The ferry crossing between Wellington and Picton is one of New Zealand's most iconic tourist experiences, and supposed to be one of the most spectacular cruises in the world. Our journey began on a typical New Zealand morning - grey and drizzly, but still picturesque nonetheless, gliding past mountains reflected in the Picton's calm harbour waters. After parking their cars, families and travelers quickly found seats on the upper decks and settled in for three hour journey.
As the ship eased out of the sheltered harbour and entered the open waters of the Cook Strait, the winds began to pick up, and the seas began to get rough. Really rough. Although the ferry crossing only covers 92 km, it takes place at a latitude known as the 'Roaring 40s' because of its unpredictable and furious winds. The strait is located where the Tasman Sea meets the South Pacific, funnelling westerly winds and deflects them to the north, which in the right conditions can produce the perfect storm. On this particular day, it brought in winds gusting to 60 or 70 knots, and within a few minutes, we were sailing through blowing 6 m swells.
The top deck was closed due to the severe weather, and the decks below were lined with people looking out in awe of the huge waves below. Sprays from the bigger waves came up 20m high, completely dousing the unsuspecting onlookers, which made for a great show from my perspective at the rear of the boat. We sailed on, and the storm only intensified as the waves kept getting bigger. For some reason, the captain turned the ship parallel to the wind, which meant that the brunt of the waves was being felt, rocking the boat heavily from side to side. As a sailor and somewhat of a thrill-seeker, I was totally loving this weather... but inside was another story.
A crowd of people on the deck
Once I stepped inside, it felt like the remaining passenger decks were ground zero of a disaster scenario. Children, the elderly and entire families were laid low by seasickness. They held vomit bags to their faces, wailed for help from frantic crew members or just laid facedown on the ground, completely incapacitated by nausea. The halls echoed with horrible sounds of people vomiting and crying, dishes flying off the shelves in the kitchen and crashing to the floor, and chairs and tables scraping across the floor. Over the main intercom, the captain gave repeated updates on the weather conditions, and car owners were called to the parking lots below to shut off their vehicle alarm systems. I had to escape outside to the freezing decks in order to avoid being overcome by nausea myself.
Biggest waves I've ever seen
Finally, the rocking motions eased and we entered the North Island channel opening and safely docked at Wellington harbour. Only two hours behind schedule, and a little bit worse for wear. The pain will soon be forgotten though. Tomorrow is our most gruelling hike yet - a 6 hour hike up to the summit of Mt Tongariro, or perhaps better known as Mordor.
1 comment:
That really sounds like fun! Did you see any small sailboats out there?
Post a Comment