Situation as noted by me was two lightly clad schoolgirls lost in Gollans Stream area behind Eastbourne. Needed sleeping bags, Primus, spare clothing, food, etc. Having been out of action since April and currently in the process of easing back into a fitness regime, I figured when in doubt, why not. Arrival point was to be the Shell station on the Wainui-Eastbourne intersection at Seaview. Left the house at around 2:20 am and picked up Jessie, Craig, and Julian. Arrived at Field Headquarters (FHQ) around 3 am.
Gear was issued by Mike Sheridan (Condor radio, VHF radio, and first Aid kit). Tom (Field controller) tasked the team, and Andy Warnes gave us descriptions and info relating to the missing parties. There were 3 missing schoolgirls. The last confirmed sighting was at Wainui McDonalds at midday Sunday. There had, however, been other reports of sightings by walkers/trampers in the hills behind Eastbourne during the afternoon. After noting some of this down, it was into the car again, and "Wainui 4" kroozed on up to the Ferry Rd track entrance. (Weather, BTW, was clear and still).
IRN news item: (Monday morning, 7-9-1998) Three girls have spent a cold and miserable night becoming lost on a tramp in hills north of Wellington. The two eleven year-olds and a 12-year-old set the hills behind Wainuiomata, and the alarm was raised when the girls failed to return home. A rescue team located the trio this morning, but search leader Sergeant Andy Warnes says the girls could have been found sooner if they had given accurate details of where they were going.
The Murky Details. At 1:30 am (ish), Mike Cotsilinis rudely awakened my flatmates (they all have phone extensions in their rooms - I don't, but no excuse for me not to get messages). One of them knocked politely on the door, and then some intensive efforts were had in order to find a sarong or equivalent before heading into the hallway. Technical hitches meant that Mike had to ring back twice before I could speak to him, thereby ensuring beyond doubt that the whole flat was awake. Team members ringing in meant the house was sleep deprived for at least another 45 minutes.
Situation as noted by me was two lightly clad schoolgirls lost in Gollans Stream area behind Eastbourne. Needed sleeping bags, Primus, spare clothing, food, etc. Having been out of action since April and currently in the process of easing back into a fitness regime, I figured when in doubt, why not. Arrival point was to be the Shell station on the Wainui-Eastbourne intersection at Seaview. Left the house at around 2:20 am and picked up Jessie, Craig, and Julian. Arrived at Field Headquarters (FHO) around 3 am.
Gear was issued by Mike Sheridan (Condor radio, VHF radio, and first Aid kit). Tom (Field controller) tasked the team, and Andy Warnes gave us descriptions and info relating to the missing parties. There were 3 missing schoolgirls. The last confirmed sighting was at Wainui McDonalds at midday Sunday. There had, however, been other reports of sightings by walkers/trampers in the hills behind Eastbourne during the afternoon. After noting some of this down, it was into the car again, and "Wainui 4" kroozed on up to the Ferry Rd track entrance. (Weather, BTW, was clear and still).
The track was closed due to poison having being laid illegally in the area. Nonetheless, there was fresh sign on the track, of which a note was made (this sign probably did not relate to the girls). Comms were dodgy initially, as the repeater could not be accessed. The cellphone was used before Simplex comms were subsequently established between most teams, Wainui base (Seaview), and Special Ops (Wgtn central).
We used whistles at 5 or 10 minute intervals on the way up. The method used was to spread the team out along the track (maybe 50m between members) and then co-ordinate a 3 or 4 second blow). Muddy areas of track were also checked carefully for sign, with light angles being altered to highlight details of tread patterns.
Two of the girls were found by another team within 10 minutes walk of the (Koromiko??) road end in Days Bay. The third girl, an 11 yr old was found at around 4 am by a police dog handler and runner on the ridge top between the York Bay and Ferry Rd track junctions. She had been lying on the ground next to the track. The Vie team were not too far from this point, and were therefore closest (we believe we heard the dog barking when making the find), so we continued up to the ridge to assist her down the Ferry Rd track. Les and the police dog handler had provided a survival blanket and extra clothing for the girl, as well as some drink and energy food. Notwithstanding this assistance, a bit of encouragement was required to start the walk back.
The girl was cold, damp, tired, and sore (reported leg cramps). She didn't really want to move. Les held her hand and tried to get her to walk. No go. The Police dog handler then offered to piggy-back her, but she fussed that she was too heavy to be carried. [The Police dude was very diplomatic at this juncture (so was I), but the girl was insistent in not wanting to be carried. She was finally encouraged to move after an offer to have a searcher hold each hand. Les held one hand, Dave held the other, Jessie provided the light for her, Craig's thoughts returned to the "Arohata option", and everyone moved off.
Conversation and rapport was established between the girl and the searchers. Topics canvassed included Teletubbies, whether her Mum would be at the Rd end, whether Les' Mum still did his washing and ironing (and if not, why not), were people angry, why were the searchers out in the bush at this time of night anyway, how far until the road end, etc etc etc. Ferry Rd was eventually reached sometime between 5 am and 5:15 am. An ambulance was waiting, and the girl was checked over by paramedic staff in the warmth and comfort, of their machine. Wainui 4 headed back to FHQ at about 5:30 am to off load gear and have a quick debrief and choccy bikkie. We were driving up Tinakori Rd by 6am, and most of us found our way to work during the morning.
Occasionally one questions why we are called the tramping club. The midwinter Christmas was a certain example of the notion of the "tramping club" causing cognitive dissonance amongst us "trampers". Having been on many tramps in the past, I have come to associate tramping with several, seemingly obvious, things. Firstly, when I go tramping it usually involves walking a longer distance than, say walking from my house to the corner dairy. Secondly, it usually involves more time than, say, having a bath. And thirdly it usually involves a hot meal in the evening.
However this is not to say that change is bad. One could probably become quite accustomed to walking for 40 minutes per weekend garnering delusions of aerobic grandeur. One could also become accustomed to the idea of driving for six times as long as the tramp itself (12 if you include brunch in New Plymouth and hot pools in Taupo). I suppose that one could even become accustomed to raw broccoli and cajun garlic bread after a while.
Thankfully we were blessed with primo weather for most of the weekend. The sky (unlike our club primus) was clear, the air was cold and crisp (like our potatoes), the snow on the mountain looked dry and powdery (like our soup) and rain was as common as gas cookers at Maketawa hut.
The drive up was made (un)memorable by a pitstop in the teeming metropolis of Hawera. A quick lunch and we were on the road and heading towards the mountain. At the North Egmont visitors centre more time was spent procrastinating over getting ready than the actual walk for that day (but I don't think anyone was too fussed). The walk in, after all that, was actually quite pleasant. Maketawa but was an excellent location for our celebration, being spacious and offering capacious views of the countryside below. The evening's festivities were quickly underway soon after arrival. However, amidst fervent food preparation a slight hitch in the proceedings was notice: the cooker was not working. No worries we thought, who brought the spare... No spare? ... Anyone feel like lighting a fire? ... No wood? ... oh fuck ... Dial a Pizza on the mobile? ... well maybe not. I suggested we bash the cooker with a hammer to make it work. That was generally agreed to be a bad ides - we didn't have a hammer.
Many calls to various people in Wellington didn't instantaneously produce a new cooker (funnily enough), however several people did laugh at us. Thankfully Nyree brought her Big Bird so we managed to throw together a not unagreeable meal of sandwiches. Which was, of course, washed down with a large amount of booze.
After dinner we partook in giving presents to each other. It was generally agreed that shoving the wrestler's leg down his spinal cavity was better than tossing the groan stick. However tossing the groan stick was unanimously regarded as better than shooting the water pistol, which was, in turn, concurred to be more enjoyable than shoving the wrestler's leg into his spinal cavity - weird.
After more drinking, some members of our party told terrible jokes while Keren and Simon did the lambada on the table (the vertical kind - get your mind out of the gutter). I was stupid enough to get so drunk that I offered to write a story for Baaa. I completely forgot about it, but Nyree and Adrian didn't.
Sunday involved waking to very messy hut and a refreshing meander back to the road end. We agreed to meet for lunch in Wanganui. Most of us turned up, some were sidetracked in New Plymouth (hmmmm), but we eventually found a late lunch at a rather pathetic food court in the heart of Wanganui. However none of us have died since, so I suppose it wasn't that bad.
Homeward after that to Wellington. All in all a good trip, thanks to Nyree for organising.
My group eventually piled into Adrian's airplane and flew to the road-end. A brief stop was made on the way for us to fuel up and then we were off again. A car was spotted in the distance and we recognised it as belonging to the President. We passed it and waved in a manner that is appropriate for occupants of such an astral body - "we in the heavens salute you".
At the road-end we bumped into Jeremy's group and realised that we'd be tramping with them for the weekend. After slowly getting changed we headed off after Jeremy's group, followed by Julian's group. The glimpses of light we occasionally caught were written off as wil'o'wisps, but we followed them anyway. Eventually the lights got brighter and two groups combined forces. On up to Herepai but, which to our disgust had been heavily vandalised. Here a brew and plans were made; the other group turned up just after the water boiled so took advantage of some hot chocolate, although one of their number (Anna) had experienced a close encounter with the ground - hard core as the broken nose was dismissed as nothing. Welcome to New Zealand (VUWTC style). We wondered if she was to continue the trend of Australians and injuries (remember Alexis).
Early start the next morning thanks to Adrian and Jeremy forcing us out of bed and then the six of us set off. Julian's group were planning on seeing us at Cattle Ridge that night, via the river and Roaring Stag Lodge. On East Peak it was a bit claggy, so maps and compasses were consulted, but it soon cleared and we were joined by the fantastic weather that characterises all of our trips.
There was a little wind about the tops, but an almost total absence of snow made travel pleasant. A fit group meant good time was made. Soon we saw Dundas and our spirits soared, our hunger would soon be gone. It's further than it looks to Dundas from this point, and we welcomed the opportunity to sit down and cat when we arrived. This hut would have to be in one of the best locations of all Tararua huts, but it's maintenance leaves a little to be desired. Here the germ of an idea appeared, and it has since been agreed that the club will approach DoC about taking some responsibility for Dundas - in addition to "our" other two huts; Carkeek and Penn Creek. With some maintenance this but could easily become my most loved but (of those I've been to).
After lunch we set off down the hill and realised we'd probably have to get wet crossing the river. None of us wanted to, so Adrian charged across and we were all shamed into following. Afterwards we realised that the options of using river crossing methods other than "just charge and hope" hadn't even entered our minds, although we had got our cameras out in the hope of recording some carnage - Jeremy nearly obliged.
A quick climb on to Cattle Ridge, fuelled by Adrian's supply of sour gummy bears, and on down to the hut. There were huge quantities of dead leatherwood lying around so we collected firewood and got the fire cranking. A great meal was had and then Rob and I managed to acquire more - Tim and Duncan and chilli don't get on too well. Had about 1.5 litres of hot chocolate, whiskey and lots of speculation about possible reasons for the absence of Jullan's group. In the end we decided there were only two acceptable explanations ....
Next morning a late start and we had barely packed when the other group
arrived. Discovered that their explanation for not turning up the night
before was unacceptable and left. Down to Roaring Stag and lunch, then
started out. Duncan seemed to decide we'd been going too slow, so a good
burn-out was had up to the Herepai turn-off. Five minute break here then
out to the cars and back to Wellington. Fantastic weekend trip with good
people; winter Dundas loop.
We were: our group: Dave Hodson (scribe and kind-of leader) Adrian
Barr, Rob Holmes Jeremy Haines (leader), Tim Baker Duncan Elton. Their
group: Julian Boorman (leader) Anna Catherine Jo Prebble.
A week in Nelson Lakes. Sounds fantastic doesn't it. Well it was. Saturday morning and we all arrived bright and early at the ferry terminal, or in some cases late and unconcerned. On board where friendships were tested as harsh calls abounded. Picton. Alcohol bought. Drunk (it) on bus. St Arnaud soon arrived and after dropping off most groups we continued to the Mt. Robert car park where we disembarked. We got to hate our packs a little in the 1 1/2hr wander up to Relax Shelter. The other group - Neal, Julian Duerr, Tim, (forgotten his name, will remember soon) and Julian's pack made a de-tour to Bushline hut. Stories were told (glass coffee tables, jesus!!) followed by a cold night for some who weren't blessed with a sleeping bag which "is the shit".
8am. Alarm. 9:30am. Visited by Julian. Up. Slow packing and then off. Along the ridge and stopped for lunch in sight of Angelus Hut. At hut about 1pm and spent the rest of the afternoon playing with the frozen lake... We realised there was very little snow around and decided to plan a slightly more interesting and ambitious route. More and more people arrived including an Auckland University group. Started cooking tea and realised our fuel was petrol, so we vowed to kill Neal Osborne (this vow was retracted when we realised that it wasn't his fault - we'll have to bomb Shell instead).
We left at 9:30 next morning when Benj finally got up, and walked up to Sunset Saddle. From here a fun time was had down to Hopeless Hut - ice, frozen waterfalls, bluffs, scree.... Benj made endless entreaties "don't die. You're not allowed to" and later "too much farting around".
From here up the river where Anke (willingly) and Rob (unwillingly to retain some pride) swam outside John Tait hut. Spent the night planning potential routes and had to solve our quandary with democracy. Sometimes democracy is crap.
Long morning up the river once we finally left, during the morning the endless beech forest somehow metamorphosed from beautiful and inspiring to morale sapping and tedious. At Upper Travers we opened the door only to be surprised by a crazy man in a kilt. One of his party - Keren - was very sick and was not looking too happy. We decided that Adrian and Benj would carry Keren out to a doctor the next day and we would absorb Dave Rafferty and Karia into our group.
That afternoon everyone who was able went wandering behind the hut.. Rob and I managed to terrify ourselves on some moderately ex- posed scrambling while Dave R and Adrian built snowmen. That night someone admitted they hadn't heard the clown joke. oops.
Wednesday. Karla's birthday. Easy plod up to Travers Saddle in rain and cloud and then down the other side "with our knapsacks on our backs". Further down; "Spray 'n' wipe", Grease, I will survive and worse. Oh well, you tolerate the things people do on their birthdays. Dave R found his third foot and realised that he has a very close affinity with the earth. Arrived at West Sabine hut to see Sarah's group. Why???
Decided to stay there and Hackey sacks started flying. "yes scrubber, scrub me". Anke sulked for several hours. Then there were 14. Neal Matheson's group had come via Moss pass and it had made a huge impression. They were one member down, apparently ??? had tucked his knee and bailed out. Couscous and pasta for tea and then heard about how to steal cooking fuel from Aucklanders - poor them. Gordon massaged Karla for 54 minutes, she moaned, a comment was made and then "you're not that good". Rob "was it good or just long".
Up to Blue lake next morning which wasn't that blue and enjoyed the hut book. Apparently no-one goes down faster than Jane (Alice) Tansell. Rob and I climbed up to Moss pass for a look, and then a blast back down to the hut - Rob carrying coal. The fire cranked and we sat around yarning and then cards. I was given food by the Aucklanders who mocked our insipid meal. Quote of the day "K-struck". Down to Sabine next day where it was realised that almost everyone was injured.
The wounded decided to hobble out via Speargrass and we grabbed anyone who could walk and went up to Angelus. Interesting conditions and good to reach the hut. Later people arrived. Who could it be? Adrian, Benj and Keren burst in the door. A joyful reunion and lots of food. We considered climbing Angelus next morning for a dawn summit but given the circumstances it was decided against. Rob and Gordon enjoyed dawn from Sunset Saddle while we experienced it from Mt. Robert ridge. Out. The worst thickshakes in the world come from St. Arnaud. Good beer at the pub though. Onto the bus where more beer was drunk and singing progressed from fantastic to barely endurable. To Picton and the Federal. Pool, beer, spirits and a long crawl to the ferry. We offered Rob 20c for every complete stranger he embraced. attractive chick tick her two male friends cross scrubber tick her friend tick and so it went on.... Back to Wellington and sleep.