My first night in Okuru was less than restful. Apparently the bed sheets were washed in soap powder that didn't dissolve. The result was an irritating bed full of soap that got rolled into balls as I tossed and turned. In the morning, I told the housekeeper the bed was full of soap pills, and I asked to have the sheets changed. She was outraged. "PEE-yulls?!?" She changed the sheets, but I know she muttered to her companion about my crazy claim of medications in my bed.
Fortunately, Steve was polite and charming to the housekeepers, as he is to everyone, so our hosts were left a net neutral impression of the Yanks.
We had dinner in Haast Junction at a weird place called the Hard Antler. It’s a bar and restaurant, and there are mounted animal heads in the bar and televisions showing a game show in the restaurant. Still, because we are sort of enchanted by the remoteness and simplicity of the place, we had one of those moments when we were really aware our luck and felt grateful. Our friend Alona can tell us how to say it in Italian: “It is sweet to do nothing”. La Dolce Far Niente.
Jackson Bay is at the south end of the road in Westland. We walked through the forest to the beach to look for penguins, but it was cold and raining. The only species besides us dumb enough to be out in that weather was a lone Oyster Catcher, and it was agitated, so we were probably near its nest, or it would have been hunkered down with the rest of the sensible wildlife.
We went to the Craypot to get something to eat. This is a tiny building like a caboose on a raised platform with eight cramped little booths. You enter through the kitchen. The only person on staff was the hostess/waitress/cook/bus person/dishwasher/cashier/tourist information person. I had gone in earlier when it was packed, not realizing she was dealing with about 24 customers by herself, and I asked where the trail head was. When we went back for food after our unsuccessful penguin hunt, the empty diner was in a shambles, and she was talking on the phone and trying to recover from the lunch rush. I started busing tables, and eventually she got the dishes done in the sink and gave some more tourist information to a caller, and finally was able to take our order. We have noticed that even the most modest restaurants in tourist towns serve gourmet food, but off the beaten track, fish and chips feature prominently on every menu. We were way off the beaten path, and reluctantly ate these grease bombs. We had to admit, though, it tasted pretty good.
Steve asked this multitalented waitress, etc., if there was any season we could visit and not encounter so much rain. She said it could rain any day of the year. Turns out, the weather is as versatile as she is. She said we could and probably would experience every season on any particular day. Sure enough, by the time we finished lunch, the sun was shining.
Back at the place we were staying, Steve had talked with Brian, the owner’s son, about fossicking (rock hounding). Brian told him where to look for big jade boulders on Jackson River, so we went several miles up a dirt road, fording a few streams I didn't think we should be crossing in our Corolla, in search of jade. Whenever I found a likely prospect, Steve would politely examine it and tell me that although it was really pretty, it was only serpentine. He smashed a lot of rocks to get past the weathered outer surface, and collected some stuff that might be jade, but we’ll have to take it home to find out. I was counting on his bag to be underweight so the two of ours would average under 50 pounds, but it looks like I’ll have to come up with another strategy.
