April 7, 2016
Before ending up in the north bay, we checked out a couple of bays on the east side of Ngawhakawhiti.
The southernmost (of those east bays) was enchanting, small, and cozy. The vegetation was thick and bushy, the water a pretty blue-green. Most intriguing was a little entryway into another bay. Could we get in there? We motored right up to it, and it looked enticing with its pretty trees and patches of long dried grass. The bottom came up quickly, though, too shallow for our boat, but we could take the dinghy through there. (Click to enlarge/scroll through any of the galleries below.)
A few hours later, we took an afternoon ride in the dinghy and headed back towards this bay. The afternoon light had softened under a blanket of filmy clouds, the kind that makes the sun look misty and the water shimmer with any movement. It was now low tide, and the amount of rocky shoreline had grown considerably.
We arrived at the bay intending to motor into that other cove but found its entryway and the area behind it had completely dried out in the low tide. So instead, we beached the dinghy on what was now a rocky isthmus and walked in. This entire cove was now a dry bed of stony bottom littered with shells. Near the shore (or what would be the shore at high tide) were the areas of the dried grasses we’d admired.
We walked around, looking at the shells and finding an occasional starfish waiting out the low tide in shallow pools. Our best discovery was finding a tiny, pinky-nail-sized blue starfish hiding in a clam shell.
Being here in this strange place, in this otherworldly late-afternoon light, surrounded by mountains, and being the only people in this whole big bay once again felt like being at the world’s end. It was so remote and surreal. In the distance, Legacy was in a heavily shadowed area but seemed to glow in the low light. She looked like a ghostly apparition, and Rich and I mused that maybe we died and Legacy had come with us.
After walking around some, we motored back by the shoreline. Big trees sometimes towered over us, and we’d get occasional fish “dancing waters,” creating silvery ripples where they’d splashed. The shoreline was pretty, although not as pretty as it was at high tide when the water nearly reached the vegetation. Low tide’s orangey-brown dirt shoreline made this place seem less lush and more remote.
Earlier in the day, we’d also motored through the northeast bay to take a look at it. It was very pretty, but not as cozy and appealing as the neighboring little bay. (Below, a small photo gallery of that bay).
Tonight, we planned to remain in the north bay, then move to the south one the following day. –Cyndi
