Oh Crap! Oh Crap! Oh -Haha, That Was on Zoom...Whoops
18 December 2014 | Mri Ang
We had arrived at the Catlins in the evening as we heard that the best time to see penguins (yes, somewhere that's not the Arctic/Antarctic!) was at either dawn or dusk and since our idea of an 'early' morning was just before 13.00, well...dusk it was. So we headed down to the beach to watch them come in and desperately wished we had remembered to bring our chairs due to the ground being wet (surprise, it's a beach!). And though the car was a mere two seconds away, it was behind a ridge – which meant as soon as we were out of sight all of the penguins would waddle on in and we'd miss every single freakin' one. And so we braved the cold by talking to the ranger stationed there. The penguins we were here to see were called Yellow-Eyed Penguins (guess why!?) and they were something rare. I don't remember exactly how rare, but enough to warrant a roped off area and a ranger on 'guard' for the night (not sure if he left at night or stayed until they went back into the sea the next morning). I might Google it when I get home, but probably not as I'll just want to collapse in bed and die. But watch this space because who knows!? Lols. It didn't happen. Anyway, after what seemed like an hour of me just shouting, “Look a penguin!” And Rob saying, “...no...that's a seagull. Another freakin' seagull” (in my defence they were far away and it was getting dark?) we finally actually maybe saw one? It was hard to tell because it was hopping and I'm pretty sure penguins don't hop...or climb cliffs. But these things totally did and they did it surprisingly fast for penguins – if that's really what they were. What do you think?
I know the pic's a bit blurry but it could totally be a penguin look-alike like a badger or something...Do badgers hop? What about skunks? No? So anyway, once all of these penguin things tucked themselves away into the undergrowth and out of sight, we headed off to find a camp a bit closer to where we wanted to be tomorrow because it turns out seals and sea lions also like to disappear after and before dusk and dawn.
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As of yet, I haven't had a resting day since the cave and though that doesn't sound like much, well, it's a lot for me, especially since we had a long hike ahead of us. Completely ignoring this fact, I decided I was well enough to do it and so marched in all my excitement to see these new wild marine animals! ... I made it maybe twenty minutes before I started just dragging my feet behind me, stubbornly crawling forward. Must. See. Seaaaa-.... SEAL! THERE'S A SEAL! OMG THERE'S A REAL SEAL! Or maybe sea lion? Who knows, but THERE IT IS DEAD ON THE BEACH!
By the look of things, he'd gotten into a fight with some other sea creature and was now covered in flies. It wasn't until we got close enough to prod it (not that we did) that it turned its head with a mumbled growl, clearly signalling us to stay the hell away - and given that it was clearly twice the size of me and a wild animal (as well as hurt), it just happened to be an order I was okay with following. I stood there hopping between one foot and the other as I chewed on my bottom lip, wondering if we were supposed to help it in some way. Eventually, we decided we must leave him due to not knowing whether he was actually hurt or just lazy or tired, and given neither of us was comfortable with poking him enough to find out...well there weren't many other options.
And so we carried on. At this point I was very, very close to my final limit, having passed my 'should've stopped ages ago' limit well, ages ago. But alas, at this point we had also passed another person who very cheerily called out, "There's a group of eight of them not far from here!" And so we kept carrying on.
In hindsight, I think that was a minor mistake. Not because I was crawling so slowly that 'not far' took another hour. Not because it was starting to get late or close to high tide where the entire beach disappeared and we still had the walk back to accomplish. Not because once we finally did get there the sea lions were gone (they weren't), but because we somehow ended up lost in high grass (yes, I'm aware that we started out on a beach) with all means of backtracking lost to us do to a 'path blockage.'
We eventually managed to find a way back to the beach that wasn't guarded by an aggressive, giant fanged beast...just in time to watch the last bit of sand sink below the water. Another fifteen minutes and I collapsed due to these annoying as hell medical problems and so Rob ended up having to carry me back the rest of the way, through slowly rising water. But hey, at least I was pretty much out of it at this point, so I wasn't freaking out about possible sea lion monsters lurking in said water. I mean, Rob walked slow enough as it was; can you imagine what time we would've got back to the van if I was being an actual pain in the ass? lols.
Despite my fear of the dark, I decided I really wanted to explore a cave - especially when I discovered that this particular one (Clifden Caves in Southland) had the whole universe trapped inside it. Can you imagine!? Okay, so maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration and a bit of a lie, but it got me excited enough to brave the suffocating twists and turns of my number one fear. Well, second now thanks to that 
Unfortunately they don't really come out well on my camera (the photo to the right is of a glowworm's trail. That part doesn't glow. It's just like a spider's web and the worm's glowing butt is the beacon/lure), so just picture a crystal clear night sky with all those stars peering down at you and that's what it was like inside the cave. My fear just went straight out the window....well, until we got to the water that is.
Jeah, there was no way I was going in that. Nope, I'd much rather walk the hour back through the dark. On my own. Then get into that cold, cold water.
Somehow Rob didn't hear all my complaints for he just waded across without me. I might have screamed them in my head or I might have whispered it due to my sudden lack of air, but nevertheless the outcome was the same. He'd left me (cue dinosaur music).
“Hurry up! It's freakin' cold and I don't want to drop the non-waterproof torch in the water!”
His voice came from like two feet away and I could still see him so he didn't technically leave me, leave me, but he might as well have. There was a freakin' pool between us. In a cave. Uh, nope.
In all fairness, I did try. I seriously did, but all I could picture were monsters lurking beneath the surface ready to grab me under. I stuck one foot in and then jumped back out, yelling for him to come back and get me.
And bloody hell, he actually did. Which was really fortunate cuz I seriously wasn't kidding about being stubborn enough to die in there if he hadn't. Stupid phobias.
Well, you know how you ask a computer geek what's wrong with your computer and they go all geeky on you so you don't really listen despite asking them in the first place? Jeah, I kinda did that with Rob when I asked him what made a bridge have a good 'jumping structure.' It was something to do with land and width and probably no trolls, but that's just a total guess. Also I'm pretty sure he didn't use jumping structure as that doesn't sound very technical, but meh, it's probably something close to it.
What I can tell you, however, is why we wanted a bridge with good jumping structure. You see, Rob had mentioned his ability to make a bridge swing and it sounded cool because I liked swings and I wasn't afraid of heights. Besides, I used to jump off loads of stuff into water so how much different could it be?
So we climb out under this bridge easy peasy despite not being attached to anything (ie: if we fell, we'd hit the river and probably drown as it was shallow with big rocks). Rob sets up his stuff, clips in, jumps off, and now it's my turn. As I stand over the edge, I briefly contemplate why I'd want to jump off a perfectly sound bridge, don't bother answering, jump off, and then heavens above, then I know my answer.
← This by the way, is the hill he launched from and yes, that there where those two vans are is the landing. Now picture that with say three more vans pulling up to watch him and that 'landing' gets very, very small even for a skilled pilot like Rob.
Regardless, he still somehow managed it and not on top of any of the vans no less – or rather, he wasn't on one when I turned around to the sound of applause. No joke; they applauded. And if you think that's something you should hear them root for your launch...
