April 16, 2016
Still enveloped by the floral smell from the island, we untied from the tree branch and brought up anchor, reluctantly leaving this special place. The next round of winds was coming, and we hoped to make it to our next anchorage before it arrived. Sadly, our time in the sounds was coming to an end. Our final anchorage would be in the deep bay called Port Ligar near the entrance to Pelorus Sound. This is where we planned to sit out the wind for a couple of nights before heading on. (Below an interactive map of our route: you can zoom in and out and click on the markers to see what’s what.)
Heading up Pelorus Sound, the mountains went from green to beige as the vegetation became increasingly dry. We saw some strange watercraft (see previous post), plus dolphins and fur seas feeding near a salmon farm. (Below, a gallery of photos heading up Pelorus Sound. Click to enlarge/scroll).
Two hours later, we were turning into Port Ligar. With its high, dry mountains, patches of farmed pine trees, and mussel farms filling its entry bays, this area felt so much different from the nature reserves in the sounds. It had its own beauty, but to me it felt remote, kind of isolated. While were technically still in the sounds, it felt like we’d said good-bye to them as we neared the entrance to Pelorus Sound. This felt like being in limbo, no longer in the sounds, yet not yet anywhere else. We were just passing time in this strange, dry place until we could really leave. Below, a gallery of photos from heading into Port Liger.
We had three possible anchorages in Port Ligar. While we were pretty sure where we’d end up, we went to check out the other two. The first was Te Kopi Bay. It had a pine farm on a white sandstone shore, more strange-looking than beautiful. It also had a mussel farm, but one of our nice neighbors in Picton offered that we could use the private mooring there as it belonged to a friend of his. We found the mooring and considered his kind offer, but our guidebook warned that this bay gets gusty in strong northwest winds. Remembering what happened the last time we ignored this warning: being blasted with wind gusts all night, we decided to head to another bay.
Our next possibility was Waterfall Bay, highly recommended by someone else we met. I was intrigued by the rustic lodge there and the appealing-sounding hike in the area. But the only viable anchorage was a small indent in the shoreline near the entrance to this bay, and two boats were already there. We also worried about winds funneling down the steep hillsides along the anchorage. With that, we went with the only real choice we had: Homestead Bay.
Homestead was a wide bay surrounded by dry grassy hills, protected by a large headland dividing it from Waterfall Bay. It had Combined Club moorings, but with the coming winds we feared the arrival of club members wanting to use them. Instead, we found a nice spot not far from beach, tucked in behind the headland. We dropped our anchor, and just as we were finishing up the wind started picking up. Perfect timing! –Cyndi
