The full group first met the night before we were to depart for Dusky Sound. Five had flown down from Gisborne, two had crossed the divide from the Coast, two had driven in from South Canterbury and the last pair had driven down from Christchurch. Lakeview Motor Camp provided our accommodation. It was not much more than a place to sleep as we were away early the next morning. The ferry was leaving at 7.30 and we had better be on it. And we were. However, the 15 minute delay meant that our Power Station tour had to be canceled. This was a disappointment and something that Real Journeys needs to be a bit more flexible on. We were to be delayed again as word was relayed to us, as the Tutoko's ropes were cast off in Deep Cove, that our fresh meat was still in Manapouri - thanks Super Value! It did mean that we were able to spend some time in Doubtful and also had time to visit Stoney's Cave.

Loading all the supplies was quite a job as we were taking stores on for the next two trips as well. This somewhat accounted for the mountain of beer that graced the jetty! Jack and the boys leaving the Tutoko described their week as the best ever! Quite a statement for these seasoned adventurers.

After the intro from Stoney and Abo we headed westward cutting a path through the glassy calm waters of Doubtful Sound. It was a beautiful day and, bathed in glorious sunshine, this part of Fiordland looked absolutely magnificent. While the cave party went ashore for an exploratory walk a couple of the lads donned their diving gear and dropped into the briny for a go at catching a cray or two. The rest dropped lines over the side and caught nothing but sea perch. Not that unexpected for this area. Doubtful has by most accounts been pretty well fished out.

A Cray was swapped for our fresh meat and then we pointed our bow towards the open sea and set forth. A decent southerly swell was rolling up the coast and where it met the outgoing tide through the narrow passage between the Hares Ears and the heads the swell hit some impressive highs. Punching through them had a few onboard a little wide eyed as the Tutoko climbed then dropped through some big seas.

Thankfully, the sea eased further down the coast and the ride into Dagg Sound was pretty good. The sky was still wonderfully clear and it seemed that we would be in for a great night. Soon after dark a couple of roars from stags back in the bush were heard. This had the hunters keen for an early getaway the following morning. The fisho's onboard could only manage to hook into a couple of sharks and a red cod.

Steak, bacon and baked spuds emerged from the galley, which was early for the steak (normally comes out later in the trip), as was an early appearance of the gin and rum. What wasn't early was Dodsy's exit to bed. Most of the those first to bed took the advice given and used their ear plugs. Unfortunately, they weren't powerful enough to muffle Dodsy's raucous laughter and it was with some relief for all concerned that he finally burnt himself out and made it to his bunk.

Most of the crew beat the sun up the next day and the hunters quaffed down some chaff and got their gear ready. It was an absolute cracker of a morning and we all expected to hear the stags roaring their heads off. Clem, Colin and Phil were dropped off on the beach where we had moored for the night while 2 other parties ducked around the corner for a walk up opposite rivers.

Phil stalked onto some beautiful country and heard a stag roar back up into the headwaters of the river he had walked up. There was plenty of sign and stag activity to keep the senses tuned. Later in the morning we picked up all the hunters and listened to their stalking tales. Richard has nailed a stag about 30 minutes into his stalk. There were three hinds also offering themselves for the table but he decided to drop the male only. The other pair saw some sign but not much else. Andy had ducked away himself and had spooked what he thought was quite a nice stag. Plenty of points and just to sight him was quite a buzz.

Next on the agenda was a spot of fishing but it didn't really get fired up before we decided to head off down the coast and make our way into Breaksea Sound. Clem was handling the sea a little better now and was happy to see some of his mates join him on the top deck where lines were cast in the hope of catching a tuna out on the open sea. Another skipper we spoke to said he had caught an albacore tuna in front of Coal River. We did have one minor hit but that was it. We did catch a few cod on the northern end of Resolution but as darkness descended we headed into Sunday Cove for our mooring. There was still enough light for a quick dive and a few of the lads flipped off the stabi and collected a feed of crays. Dodsy decided he was ready for a dip in the briny as well but possible had forgotten to account for all the extra weight (buoyancy) he now carried and undercompensated for it. Hence, all he could do was flounder around on the surface. As it was he finished quite exhausted by his efforts to get down - perhaps a bit more conditioning was needed!

We dined on fresh fish with a crayfish entree followed by fruit cake and custard. Biggy Rat and Paddy provided the barge to which we tied up for the night. Paddy actually made an appearance just before dark. He had been pulling pots on the outside coast and had bagged a deer or two over the last few days as well. One of them was still hanging from the roof of the barge's shelter. Chris called in later that night with a client and we sat around listening to his stories, which were livened up by a few hours previously spent on the slops. I knew he had had a few when he started to profess his love for the Tutoko! A healthy portion of the rum on board was eventually consumed and a better nights sleep was had mostly because Dodsy turned in early.

Our water tanks were filled first thing the following morning, courtesy of the barge's water supply hose. The delay in getting away allowed Abo to cook another great breakfast. When the tanks were full we headed out towards Resolution Island. Chris scooted up on our inside and had hunters ashore at Disappointment Cove in no time. We heard later that they had roared a 7 pointer up and knocked him over. Our first dive of the day netted a few crays. Some of the other lads went for a paua dive and did quite well. A few cod also found their way on board, as invariable happens anytime there is a pause in maneuverings! Our first trumpeter also made it onto the deck. It is always nice to get one or two of this species. They are excellent eating.

Lunch was taken in the shelter of Woodhen Cove. It is a beautiful spot with crystal clear water and a white sandy bottom. It is likely that there are scallops here but no one was that interested in seeing if that was the case. After a good pounding the pauas were sent into a sizzle and then consumed by all with great relish. The anglers onboard were soon hankering for a another go at the groper so we motored on around the end of Resolution Island to were some deeper water was and had a crack. The best we could do here was small groper from Dodsy and a double hit of shark for Phil. The big haul from the blue depths had us all highly expectant of a big bodied groper but to see only 2 tangled sharks was a let down. Although Stoney assured us that plenty had been caught here previously, it wasn't a happening thing this day so we decided to point southward and see what we could find on our way along the outside. Some hard ground was found not too far away from the Five Fingers. The mighty big blues of Fiordland reintroduced themselves to us and before long we had a bin full of cod. It was almost dark by the time we crept past the clearing on the inland side of the peninsula. It was pretty good timing for deer spotting but they were keeping their heads down this night. Cormorant Cove welcomed us for the night, and a beauty it was too. Dinner consisted of paua steaks, bar-b-qued crays, spuds and veges. Dodsy had done an excellent job of cooking the seafood and an even better job of creating one hell of a mess. Eventually some clean space was made and a very pleasant evening followed. Good yarns and fine beer with Dodsy on Phil's roaring horn providing some of the sound effects.

A pretty good day greeted us in the morning and the lads were keen to get amongst it. Three hunting parties were dropped along a 4 kilometre stretch of Five Finger Peninsula. Dodsy and CO hit the beach first, Andy and Bill followed soon after and Phil and Richard sidled ashore a good way down the coast. It proved to be a fruitful morning. Phil and Richard nabbed a 6 pointer that was roared in and the fourth party that was dropped off on the mainland knocked over a 8 pointer that they also roared in. It was really great to see the stags still keen for a scrap. About midday the weather started to turn foul. Andy and Bill were still out there somewhere. Some shots had been heard earlier so it was likely that they were struggling out with a load of venison. The afternoon wore on and the weather really started to close in. Still no Andy and Bill despite several runs along the peninsula with the odd shot fired in the hope of a returning one. The Peninsula is only about a mile wide but determining which coast was the one you needed to be on might have been a bit tricky in the conditions. It was a rather somber crew that finally conceded that night that it would be tomorrow before we were likely to see them. They would have to sit it out in the bush for the night. As it turned out the weather made quite a dramatic turnaround and cleared a lot by the time it grew really dark. We decided to err on the side of caution in this case and radioed up for a bit of assistance. By 8am the next morning Richard Hayes had found our men. They had spent the night quite a way up the peninsula having lost their bearings the previous afternoon. It was with some relief that we welcomed them back onboard and continued on with our trip.

Cascade Cove was our next point of call where more water was taken on board and a few of the lads decided to go for a bit of a bush walk. One of the fishermen who had spent the night here had radioed that he had heard a couple of stags going for it up the valley a bit. After burning some of our rubbish two of the crew donned diving gear and cut across the cove for a dive, and did quite well out of it too. The mandatory Pickersgill Harbour walk followed with a sortie then out a bit further for a fish and another dive. A good number of crays were caught with a few more fish to add to the tally. As the day was wearing on and there was quite a distance between here and our mooring for the night, Stoney swung the Tutoko around and headed inland for Shark Cove. He has a favourite deer beach back up the sound and also knew of some groper spots. The Gisborne group dragged the stag Richard had shot on the second day onto the upper deck and began the rather messy job of butchering it. There were a few other hind and forequarters to also bone out and it was quite a pile of wild venison that eventually found its way into the cooler bins for the trip back up north.

Unfortunately neither groper nor deer were found in this instance in the spots where they were supposed to be. Our mooring was secured in the lovely shelter of Shark Bay and a pretty boozy night ensued as we still had a mountain of beer to get through and there was also a bit of tension to drink off from the events of the previous night! Abo and Stoney had both had a long night and day, and it was Abo's intention at least, to hit the sack relatively early. No one was particularly surprised to hear him hit the floor of the bunkroom, literally!, at about 4am that night. Maybe that was early for him!

Our departure day was probably the clearest of several good days we experienced. Blue skies with not a cloud in sight and barely a breath of wind were the conditions we were to have for our flight out of Supper Cove. "Hannibal' Hayes took his Squirrel helicopter high up above the mountains so that we could really get an idea of the extent of the Park. The mountains stretched out to the horizon like a jagged jumble of glass shards cutting into the sky. It was, and always is an impressive sight.