LEST WE FORGET [with links to The Press and Ralph Miller]

ANZAC day... what a wonderful tradition! And thanks Deirdre for prompting me to write and even setting up the image of the poppy for me.

I grew up in the shadow, if you like, of WW II, as my dad was away at that one before I was born, for near on seven years. Even as a kid, although he preferred not to talk of it much I knew his experiences were profound, and therefore in ways I don't fully comprehend they've affected myself also...

... and like him perhaps there is a part of me that wishes to side track talking on that topic, so lets go elsewhere: The press.co.nz has posted an article today, and I'm very taken with a photo ... more >>

Also my good friend Brian... his dad Ralph Miller, an artist of that era did some beautiful sketches of life in the Pacific theatre of WWII... more >>









a note on the poppy as the symbol of ANZAC day: The poppy flowers in Turkey in early spring - as it did in April 1915 when the ANZACs landed at Gallipoli. According to Australia’s official war historian C.E.W.Bean, a valley south of ANZAC beach got its name Poppy Valley "from the field of brilliant red poppies near its mouth". I also found this long read, and poem, on the symbolism... more >>

An eclectic post with links to Mt Hooker, Otematata Station and a view of the development under Mt Iron here in Wanaka

It's been a week of staying put preparing for winter etc. However I was active on the web.

I've finally finished a post on a trip I did to Mt Hooker over 30 years ago. Yes, you can even see some vintage "Donald" photos.

To pique your interest here is a picture of Gavin, at a later date, in his Piper Cub at Marks Flat under Mt Hooker. I'm hoping to publish that one too, as the trips just got better and better...

see the full finished story here

With cousin Deirdre I built a blog during the week for her to populate with news from the recent centennial 1908 - 2008 of the Cameron Family at Otematata Station.

Deirdre grew up on Otematata Station, and here is her dad, [my uncle Jim] mustering with Laddie [pre 1969]...

see the blog here

And lastly here is a sunset shot I took last night while walking up Mt Iron of just some of the "too rapid" development in Wanaka of late...

More on Fiordland, Mt. Titiroa at Manapouri, and some funky rocks at Port Pegasus, Stewart Island

Last weekend after the Fiordland follies with Roger we spent a night at the beautiful Lake Manapouri [Maori for Lake of the Sorrowing Heart - so apt], and we got up not-too-early to do a photo shoot of forest in the mist, and we went to the southern end of the Kepler track.

The swing bridge across the huge Waiau River. This river, the largest and one of three of the same name in New Zealand] doubled as the River Anduin at the end of the first The Lord of the Rings movie, The Fellowship of the Ring, where the Uruk-hai chase the Fellowship along the river banks....


The view looking downstream [taken from the middle of the above bridge], later when the morning's mist started to burn off. Note the silver like rocky mountain left of center by a tree, Mt. Titiroa ..


A telephoto of Mt. Titiroa. I'm pretty keen to climb this, or more-to-the point, I have reason to believe that if I did so I'd get to wander and camp among some outstanding rock formations - these, as you'll see below, I have a penchant for...


So on the topic of funky rocks here is my good friend Darrell on such a rock below the summit of Magog, a very remote peak in Stewart Island's Port Pegasus area. Taken on an expedition trip aboard Elwing a couple of years ago...


Also in the Port Pegasus area, here we see my son Dougal beside an interesting formation on Bald Cone ...

Seeking primordial puddles in Fiordland

In the week gone by I joined my friend Roger for a few days off to seek definitive photographs of a primordial nature in southern New Zealand's Fiordland. I feel so privileged as I compose this blog as it reminds me yet again [2 days after completion] of how such a journey is where we can learn from being tested as nature imposes it's rules and time-tables, thereby challenging us to be gentle in the soul and mindful of how to best live our lives...

Our entry point to this remote land was the Middle Fiord of Lake Te Anau - here we see it in the distance to the right, from Te Anau Downs at dawn...


Our boatman Vern, a living legend in Fiordland with a wealth of information gleaned from a lifetime's professional hunting with an accompanying acute observation of nature...


At the head of the Middle Fiord we walked to another lake where we transitioned to another of Vern's boats [heli'd in several yrs. ago] to take us further west...


The left ridge on this mountain was one of our potential goals - we did get to the bottom of it, but not up it, but then, being Fiordland, the next front was upon us the next day with accompanying rain...


The views boating were stunning, despite the bite of old man frost...


It was sobering to consider just how remote we were going, when you need so many resources to just get in and out to the start of the foot work! This was as far as we could go with Vern's help , so we said our good-byes, asked him to pick us up on Friday, Roger stepped ashore, and we pushed him off into the current...


We then headed up this river bed into the frost smoke. Note the hut on the right in the shade - one we would be so happy to warm up in on our very wet and cold return journey...




Yet another lake, but no boat on this one! After crossing the outlet seen here, on a nearby 3 wire bridge we then tackled the rather rugged marked route which was to take us around to the area seen here a bit on the right of center...


Into the primordial stuff...


We had a couple of days in a hut with Roger doing some solo exploring and myself enjoying a day off from life snoozing, as the rain pattered about. But all good things come to an end, and we headed off early on Friday to retrace our steps in quite a storm - about a 7 out of 10 on the Fiordland scale, with periods of approx. 1 inch of rain per hour falling. In this sort of rain even kit inside plastic bags gets wet, and we were to witness sheets of water hitting the lake surfaces and then bouncing up again - something I've seen before, but it's still a marvel! This shot shows the waterfalls starting to leap into action, with a nice primordial swamp foreground...


Rain or no rain, Roger had one shot left, so out came the "third member" [tripod], the big Technorama pano film camera and I held a hat over proceedings...


The trip out was technical - this is not disneyland in the rain, but Fiordland in it's enchanting natural uncompromising state that simply forces respect and humility and lays a flavour of fragility over one's self...


Roger on one of the 3 wire bridges - once mastered their consistency of footing is a welcome change from accompanying courses of green boulders, slippery tree roots and branches [yes, you're often well off the ground in this terrain, be it on bridges or on land]...


There is always on-going attrition in the rain-forest - the trick is to not be under a tree going down...


Not far from meeting Vern - the rain is easing, the bush enchanting, with the shades of green defying description in their luminosity...


The last hut out before the boat, and just as you'd expect from a considerate and gentle seasoned campaigner in the hills, Vern was in there with a couple of Wapati hunters who'd come down from the tops before the storm, and they had a brew on the fire ready for us soaked rats, and the hut all nice and cosy...


Back on a Lake Te Anau after our first boat trip in the wee local boat, and now into the larger one for a bumpy trip home...


Looking back...