Akersten Bay - Organiser: Carl Horn
The day dawned very grey and very overcast, not raining, but not the kind of day we wanted for an uplifting tramp in a National Park. There was an anxious phone-call from one of the members saying that they’d really prefer not to go. But the weather forecast that morning had said “0% probability of rain”, and so they were persuaded to give it a go, although they seemed to say “yes” somewhat reluctantly. They didn’t regret their decision though because as we drove up that first hill on our way to the Abel Tasman, leaving the Waimea plain behind, the sky changed from a dull grey to a bright sunny blue. It stayed that way for the rest of the day. Lucky us! It was a day not to be a pessimist.
There was some unfortunate confusion at the outset because of an innocent misunderstanding, which resulted in a half-hour delay in getting started. The organiser hadn’t explained his intentions in specific detail, and those in one of the cars assumed usual practice which the organiser hadn’t known about. The result was that one car waited for half an hour in Stoke for the other three cars which were already well on their way to the Park. As it turned out, they finally gave up on the rest of us and headed for the Park too, where they found us waiting for them. After apologies all ‘round, and introductions, we were on our way.
The weather was sunny and warm. It was like a summer day. The organiser did not hear one complaint, not once.
The tramping was easy. No one broke a sweat. For much of the way, the track was like a footpath on Trafalgar Street. There were some ups and downs, but no ascent lasted for more than a few minutes. Calling it a grade 1 tramp was an overstatement. It was more of an amble and a picnic than a tramp.
The company was pleasant, entertaining, and convivial. Because of the width of the track, in many places we were able to walk abreast. Conversations were heard for most of the day.
The scenery was delightful, especially with a lingering sea-fog giving some of the vistas a mysterious feeling. We experienced crossing a bubbling stream in the thick beech forest contrasted with trudging along the golden sand of a broad beach contrasted with hopping across a boulder bank.
We enjoyed lunch at Akersten Bay, with many of us sitting on a piece of driftwood, a rather large tree trunk which had turned white and hard as concrete after countless years under the “noonday sun”.
It was such a delightful day that one of our number decided he had to go for a swim. For some reason he did so at the very end of the beach, as far from our group as he could get. I guess he was counting on us not being astronomers or ornithologists complete with telescopes or binoculars. We’ll have to call him “Polar Pavitt”.
After all the hard physical effort of the day, on the way home some of us rewarded ourselves by stopping at Toad Hall in Motueka for some hard-earned ice cream and coffee. After all, we deserved it.
All of us were home about 6pm, having had a delightful “walk in the Park”.
The trampers (15): Carl Horn, Dan McGuire, David Blunt, David Nielsen, Gillian & Hec Arbuthnott, Grahame Harris, Ian Pavitt, Jim Maxwell, Lindsay Twiname, visitor Mary Cott, Ricky Harris, Shirley Gabrielsen, Trish Bennett, and visitor Vivienne Lightfoot.