I'll Sift Your Sand if You Golden My Beach

Saturday, May 19th:

That morning, after we ate an amazing breakfast, we loaded up in the very full, now low-riding Vista, and headed northwest out of Nelson for Abel Tasman National park. We had found a nice walk on the map that started on the south end of the track and ended in Anchorage Bay where we would take a water taxi back to where we had lest the car. The Abel Tasman is one of the most frequently visited National parks in New Zealand, most of our friends had already been and we had heard lots of stories about its beautiful beaches and luxurious lagoons. We had no idea.

Even the drive into Abel Tasman was beautiful—picture sunny beaches with pristine blue waters. Along the road was an occasional house, making me wonder who had the privilege of walking outside each morning to their own front deck and seeing these most incredible beaches.

We met some of those people in Marahau, the small town at the southern end of the Abel Tasman Great walk. The people there all wore smiles, ear to ear, and were more than happy to answer your questions and tell you about some of their favorite places—also telling you that the place you were going is amazing. They seemed to be in no hurry and on no agenda. With beaches and coastline like that, how could you be?

With our water taxis scheduled, we hit the track at about 11am with a three hour hike into Anchorage Bay. The walk was nice, following the coastline on a very well maintained track. And, to my surprise, we hardly saw any others on it. After a short and very calm walk we were in Anchorage Bay. I had heard the term ‘gold sand beaches,’ but never experienced it. Anchorage Bay had golden sand like I don’t think that I could have imagined. It was incredible. We immediately ate our lunch—leftover chicken parmesan from the night before—and began to explore the nooks and crannies of the Bay we had just discovered.

That day was surprisingly beautiful with unseasonably warm weather. We spent the rest of the day swimming in the ocean and relaxing on the beautiful gold-sand beaches.

When the water taxi came to pick us up, we were on the other end of the beach taking pictures, requiring that we make a mad dash with all our crap flailing everywhere to catch the boat before it departed with out us. Barely making it, we grabbed our seats and readied ourselves to see some of the same gorgeous coastline from our now sea born vantage point.

The guys operating the water taxis had it down to a science. I suppose that they should be pretty good at it since that’s all they do, but still, it was impressive. All of the sudden, I saw a small tractor facing away from us, when our boat driver pulled right behind him. The tractor, without stalling, pulled away with us now attached via a trailer that had previously been hidden underwater. He skillfully maneuvered his was along the ocean deck which was covered in a few feet of water. He made an awful lot of turns, seemingly to avoid ruts, for not being able to see the bottom. Next, the tractor slowed to a stop, unloaded the kayak we had gathered on the boat, secured the boat to the trailer, and was moving again in mere seconds. We then left the water and hit the open road in the back of a boat being towed by a relatively small tractor. It was a thing of beauty. And as I sat in the back of the boat I found myself wondering who this man driving the tractor was, where he came from and how he got himself into a position where all he had to do to live was haul boats around incredible beaches in this small, 1950s tractor.

Back in Nelson that night was an empty house (the family had left for their other house in Marlborough Sounds) and more leftover chicken parmesan which we were more than happy to eat for the third strait meal. We played Spades that night (not unlike Hearts) and sparked a rivalry that would last the rest of the trip. Chris and I were matched up against the ever cunning Brianne and Annika, who beat us the first night. Needless to say, we were going to play best out of three.