50°39’S 166°10’E
Bull kelp tangles the propellor of the zodiac, turning the steady hum into a choking grind. Martin, New Zealand Sea lion expert and our current zodiac driver, throws it in reverse and we muscle out of the mess, chunks of salad floating in the wake. Kelp grows fast in the long days of summer – and can increase in length by 50 centimetres every day – so it will soon recover from our brief insult. I’m leaning back against the inflated side of the boat, eyes trained up on the cliff side. Among the bright hanging gardens are the invisible nests of light mangled albatross. Invisible, that is, until you spot one sitting. Pairs swoop the cliff in perfect synchrony, their two-tone breathy wail echoing down to us. I don’t think I have a favourite bird, but if I did, Light mantled albatross would be strong contenders for the top spot.
Musgrave inlet is even brighter with the cliffhugging megaherbs all throwing out flowers. Their lush tangle is a beautiful contrast to the black rocks that form the jumbled shore at the base of the cliff. Eastern Rockhopper Penguins skitter along and disappear between the giant jagged boulders, their crests and beaks glowing in brief snatches of sunlight.
The name Musgrave pops up quite a lot in the Auckland Islands, a peninsula in Carnley Harbour also bears the name. Thomas Musgrave was the captain of the Grafton, whose crew were shipwrecked in Carnley Harbour in January 1864. The crew of five survived there, in a hut they named Epigwaitt, over a subantarctic winter. When they realised that no rescue was coming, Musgrave and two others sailed for mainland New Zealand in the ship’s dinghy, which they had labouriously enlarged and prepared for a sea journey. Despite having no navigational instruments, they made it through five days in a gale and reached Stewart Island/Rakiura. After a struggle to raise funds, they returned to Auckland Island to rescue the remaining crew. It’s one of the most successful stories of the Shipwreck era, when many who were stranded on the islands perished. Musgrave was instrumental in the campaign for castaway provisions on New Zealand’s subantarctic islands, and visited all of the islands but the Snares on the steamship Victoria to search and provide for potential castaways.
Auckland Island is the remnant of two old volcanoes, beaten by the southern ocean and gouged by glaciation. Around 25 million years ago, a hot spot in the mantle passed underneath the Campbell Plateau, which caused the formation of the Auckland Islands. The northern end was formed first, and has mostly eroded, leaving only the eastern part of the crater rim to form the areas around Port Ross. The southern end – around Carnley Harbour and Adams Island – was formed later, and is more intact. When I was a kid I was fascinated by volcanoes, rocks and minerals. It didn’t lead me to a career in geology – birds won out there – but I’m still impressed by the stark geology of these islands. The sheer scale of it is amazing. Layers of different colours stack up the cliffs, softer rocks have eroded faster and left deep caverns and a spectacular sink hole. Armed with a fisheye lens, I can capture the window to the sky, framed by rata and hanging moss stalactites, the red ochre of the rocks and the bright turquoise of the water. It’s nothing like being there, surrounded by it, but it’s an improvement on the GoPro shot from last time!
We leave Musgrave behind as the wind rises, and head south for Carnley Harbour. The weather does not improve. We plough through the gale that funnels down the long harbour, clinging to the outer decks to feel the fury of the famed winds of the Southern Ocean. Thousands upon thousands of Sooty and Short-tailed Shearwaters spiral through the air, skidding over the spray torn free from the waves. We spot two young Gibson’s Wandering Albatross (the taxonomy of the Wandering albatrosses is much debated, with some considering these birds a seperate species from the Antipodean Albatross, and others considering them sub-species), which nest on Adams Island, the southern shore of Carnley Harbour.
Photos cannot do justice to the sheer blast of the wind, so I settle for some short video snippets, bracing against the railings in a somewhat useless attempt to keep the camera still. We stay on the ship for the afternoon, the weather too rough to attempt a landing. Listening to lectures in the snug lecture room with mugs of tea is a nice way to wind down the day, with the winds howling outside.
