Ripping the Milford Sound

Did I say something like “I was kiting in the most beautiful place in the world” the day before yesterday? Me Thor! But who could have imagined a day like today? Not me. But from the beginning:

Two lovely days in Te Anau. A short tour over 40 kilometres of gravel road to the Mavora Lakes. A nice Swiss woman accompanies me. I stop to chase an escaped sheep. I really wanted to shear a sheep in New Zealand. A Kiwi had already enquired: unfortunately it is forbidden for foreigners for disease control reasons. So today, privately and without a razor: plucking. When the sheep runs into an electric fence in panic, the fun stops for the actually very funny Swiss woman. I have to abandon the plan without success.

The next day we both do our sounds: Andrea kayaks Doubtful Sound in the south, I drive up to Milford Sound in the north. I managed to get the last free bed in the only lodge. The journey is a bit like travelling through northern Slovenia. Lonely green meadows between steep granite mountains and dark forests. Many buses keep stopping at the same places. I am very glad that I can stop at other places on my own.

Anyway, why do you have to go to Milford Sound? Some destinations seem to me like those weird savings bank adverts: my house, my car, my swimming pool, my horse. In tourist terms: my Hofbräuhaus, my Eiffel Tower, my Grand Canyon, my Milford Sound. Are there so few really beautiful places in the world? Surely not. My theory: if the typical tourist can’t talk about the same places with his peers, he feels as if he hasn’t seen anything at all.

Milford Sound, here I come! So it’s not ugly. But as always: no idea why everyone has to come here. Other places are beautiful too. Especially nice and empty. I check into the Milford Sound Lodge, which is full. The room is still occupied, so I drive another 2 kilometres to the sound. But the large car park is also completely full. Back again and stop.

A cafe. Brooding. My knee is still yodelling in the middle of the world’s most beautiful (and fully booked) hiking trails. What to do? I approach Milford Sound in the old river delta. There’s even wind here. Uhhh…wind?

Grin: The national park, heritage of mankind, sanctuary of an atheistic society. On the right a harbour with ships arriving every minute, on the left an airport with a similar frequency. Oh yes, in the water: lots of mighty dead trees washed up on the shore. Is there any place where kitesurfing would be even more stupid?

As I wonder whether it would be possible to pay the fine for attempting to kitesurf here without Red Bull as a sponsor, the wind picks up and my grin widens. The plan is made.

Rest of the afternoon: Find a suitable launch site and check for dangers. Consult the authorities: Lodge and kayak club say: go for it. I can hardly believe it. Go to the harbour. Harbour master gives the go-ahead as long as I stay out of the shipping lane. At the airport tower, they just ask how high I’m jumping. And then say I should just stay out of the take-off lane. That leaves me 250m between the harbour and the airport. Rip it!

I still don’t think the rest of the day was legal. At least the Department of Conservation would certainly have charged me. But they are sooo far away :-)

I organise a launch assistant, throw the stuff in the car, off to the sound. Out onto the rocky beach. Double check everything. The wind is now fully onshore with a very mean gust of 20 to 30 knots. Then we head out.

There’s not much to say: I have the most spectacular kitesurf ride of my life until the wind completely dies 30 minutes later. Not fast at all. No jumps. No crashes. Just me and the Milford Sound. Has anyone ridden it before me or should I have called Red Bull?