Click here to read the English version
So I got to Milford at 9 in the morning but the meeting time was at 10 so I went to the only toilet that exists there. I used the women’s one because I didn’t read the sign properly (it said it was a unisex toilet from 7 to 7, but I didn’t realize that it was from pm to am). Anyway just when I wanted to get out of there two girls came in and started washing dishes. I didn’t want them to see me so I stayed there waiting for them to finish their business. Then I guess a bus arrived because the women flow in that toilet became constant. So I put myself together and showed up. I didn’t want to make that moment extra awkward so I didn’t stop in the sink to wash my hands, I went to the men’s bathroom to do it… but it was temporarily closed for cleaning. I was trapped, I had nowhere to go to wash my hands and I had a sandwich ready to be eaten for breakfast. Terrible! After this little adventure I managed to have a hygienic breakfast and get to the Deepwater Basin boat ramp at 10. There I met the crew and the diving buddies. They gave us the semidry suits and, once they saw me without my t-shirt, they gave me two extra 7 mm thick vests to avoid me becoming iceman.
Hace un tiempo tuvimos unos huéspedes
en Blanket Bay que se fueron en helicóptero a hacer submarinismo (¿estamos
locos?) a los fiordos de la costa oeste de Nueva Zelanda. La verdad es que mí
ni se me había pasado por la cabeza que se organizasen inmersiones en estas
aguas, frías y oscuras. Pero nada más lejos de la realidad, afortunadamente.
Me animé a informarme y descubrí
que hay una pareja que crearon una pequeña empresa de buceo que es la única con
permiso para hacer submarinismo en la reserva marina de Milford Sound. Ellos
son Lance y Simone, que hace unos cinco años se compraron un barco de segunda
mano, lo prepararon para llevar equipo de buceo y se animaron a hacer todos los
trámites necesarios para conseguir las licencias necesarias para aventurarse en
las aguas de Milford.
La precipitación media anual en
la zona de Milford Sound es de casi 7000 mm (Barcelona son 600 mm, para que
podáis comparar) con una media de 182 días de lluvia al año (¿5 en Barcelona?).
Esto convierte a Milford Sound en una de las zonas habitadas más lluviosa del
Planeta (después de Sevilla en Semana Santa por supuesto).
Las constantes precipitaciones
generan un montón de escorrentía superficial en las montañas que rodean al
fiordo, arrastrando con ella tierra, hojas y demás depósitos de los bosques. Toda
esta agua dulce con estos sólidos en suspensión llega a las aguas del fiordo
generando, debido a la diferencia de densidades con el agua salada del océano,
una gruesa capa de agua dulce negra como el azabache que bloquea los rayos de
sol, ya escasos debido a la altura de las montañas que forman el fiordo.
Después de esta capa el agua es cristalina, teniendo una visibilidad de unos 25
m. Espectacular.
Debido a este fenómeno la flora y
fauna marina de la zona vive engañada pensando que en realidad se encuentran a
centenares de metros de profundidad. Por este motivo en Milford Sound se pueden
encontrar especies de corales (la mayor concentración de coral negro del mundo
por ejemplo) que en condiciones normales se encuentra a profundidades
superiores a los 100 m.
Así que, ni corto ni perezoso, me
apresuré y antes de que llegase el invierno me fui a Milford a hacer un par de
inmersiones. Debido a que la carretera de acceso a Milford alcanza una altitud
de unos 1000 m justo antes del famoso túnel que da acceso a la zona (es para
verlo, un par de km de túnel de un solo sentido con una pendiente de casi el 10
%, esto en España sería ilegal), es obligatorio pasar la noche en Milford
después de hacer las inmersiones (lo que haga falta con tal de evitar el
síndrome de descompresión) lo que dio la oportunidad a Marina y Pol de hacer el
Routeburn corriendo ya que el extremo opuesto a Glenorchy está al lado de
Milford, y yo iba a estar ahí.
En fin a lo que iba, las
inmersiones y tal. Llegué al muelle de Milford a las diez de la mañana.
Afortunadamente el día estaba despejado y no hacía frío. Conocí a mis
compañeros de aventura (un matrimonio de Auckland del que se me han olvidado
los nombres) y a los instructores Lance y Simone. Nos dieron el material
(primera inmersión con trajes semisecos y sin “jacket” al usar un sistema
americano con alas, como las compresas) y antes de que las sandflies nos
acribillasen nos pusimos en marcha.
La primera inmersión fue en el
extremo norte del fiordo. Atravesamos la capa de agua dulce (debe ser parecido
a bucear en una ciénaga) y descendimos hasta 25 m de profundidad siguiendo un
acantilado donde encontramos un montón de langostas, un huevo de tiburón, coral
rojo e inmensos corales negros (que son blancos por fuera, pero con esqueleto
negro) con estrellas de mar enrolladas a ellos. Seguimos el acantilado hasta
una especie de arrecife y fuimos ascendiendo por otro acantilado vertical de
roca blanca con grietas llenas de langostas gigantes.
El traje semiseco funcionó bien,
al igual que los dos chalecos interiores de neopreno que me dieron para aislarme
del frío (el agua estaba a 15 grados), en total llevaba una capa de 14 mm de
neopreno cubriéndome el pecho, además del traje semiseco de 7 mm.
Subimos a la superficie, nos
tomamos una sopa caliente, unas galletas, unas patatas y nos fuimos a ver una
catarata mientras hacíamos tiempo para la segunda y última inmersión.
Una vez estuvimos listos Lance
nos dijo que teníamos todos buen nivel y que si queríamos podíamos hacer una
inmersión algo especial que él bautizó como “true fiord dive” que significa
“buceo en fiordo de verdad, para valientes, sólo apto para vascos”. Nos
animamos y aceptamos, aunque nos dio un poco de patatús cuando empezaron a
programar los ordenadores de buceo, darnos linternas y localizadores “por si
nos perdemos un poco ahí abajo” porque
la inmersión iba a ser psicológicamente exigente. Aquí ya nos cagamos, pero lo
disimulamos como pudimos.
Saltamos al agua y nos hundimos
como piedras hasta casi 30 m siguiendo la pared vertical de la montaña. Una vez
allí nos separamos de la pared y la más completa oscuridad nos envolvió.
Estábamos flotando en una zona de unos 300 m de profundidad y nos alejábamos de
nuestra única referencia, que era la pared.
Ahí, perdidos en la nada, nos
acordamos de los consejos de Lance: si no sabéis donde está la superficie
seguid a las burbujas, controlad la profundidad con el ordenador porque
bajaréis sin daros cuenta, no miréis “abajo” si tenéis tendencia a fantasear
con monstruos marinos, encended la linterna si creéis que estáis perdidos y,
básicamente, disfrutar del silencio y la paz del océano.
Conseguimos aguantar casi
cuarenta minutos en estado de semitrance, hasta que el oxígeno dijo “hasta aquí
hemos llegado” y hubo que empezar a subir, poquito a poco para que no nos
explotasen los pulmones por eso de la Ley de Boyle.
Fue una experiencia bastante
intensa y algo extenuante pero que repetiría sin pensarlo. Entre otras cosas
porque si lo pienso no lo vuelvo a hacer ni cobrando.
En fin, volvimos al puerto, nos
despedimos y me fui a mendigar un colchón al único hotel del parque, el Milford
Lodge. No había ni siquiera una suite de lujo disponible (la habría pagado
encantado) pero, como ya se conocen el percal, por 20 dólares te dejan usar las
duchas de agua caliente, la cocina y la inmensa sala común y además te dejan un
sitio tranquilito y resguardado para que duermas en el coche. Y dormí como un
bebé, recargando pilas para el día siguiente que me iba a encontrar con Marina
y Pol en el McKenzie hut del Routeburn.
Amaneció en Milford y me fui
hasta The Divide, el extremo del Routeburn más alejado de Glenorchy. Me puse
unos calcetines de lana, las botas y empecé a caminar. Pasadas unas cuatro
horas un grito de “¡Enrique!” me sorprendió y me encontré con Marina y Pol
corriendo hacia mí, y no pararon, así que me puse a correr yo también (la
verdad es que pensaba que una vez me encontrasen iríamos caminando).
Pero bueno, acabamos el Routeburn
los tres corriendo como africanos. Marina y Pol invirtieron algo más de cinco
horas en correr los 31 km, los 10 últimos conmigo de acompañante.
Al final llegamos al aparcamiento
de The Divide más enteros que al acabar la cursa de la Mercè, nos montamos en
el coche y condujimos de vuelta a Glenorchy (300 km de nada) más felices que
una lechuga.
Enrique & Marina
English version
SCUBA DIVING IN
MILFORD SOUND (PIOPIOTAHI)
Some time ago we had some guests at Blanket Bay
that went to do some scuba diving in the fiords (Doubtful Sound mainly) of New
Zealand. They went by helicopter, which made me think about the decompression illness
for a bit. Dangerous business.
Anyway I put myself together and started
looking for some information about scuba diving in New Zealand and I found a
company run by a couple (Lance and Simone) that are the only ones with a
license to dive in the Milford Sound Marine Reserve, in the Te Wahipounamu
World Heritage Area (Fiordland). Good news.
The mean annual rainfall in the Milford Sound
area is almost 7000 mm (that means that, if we put all the rainfall together
the whole area will be flooded to a depth of 7 meters, which is like a two storey
house) in 182 days (180 more rainy days than in Barcelona). Milford Sound is
known as the wettest inhabited place in New Zealand and one of the wettest in
the World. I’ve already been there twice and it has been always sunny. Next
time I go I’ll buy a lottery ticket.
All this almost constant rainfall drains
through the steep mountains that form the fiord (on a side note, Milford Sound
is a fiord not a sound) and the water becomes stained with suspended solids
making it look like a strong black tea. This dark water reaches the fiord and,
due to the difference in density between fresh water (1000 kg/m3) and
salt water (1030 kg/m3 approximately, meaning that salt water is 3 %
heavier) it forms a thick light-absorbing black water layer.
This lack of sunlight restricts algal growth
and tricks the flora and fauna of the area, allowing deepwater or light
avoiding species to become established in shallow water. Below this freshwater
layer the sea is calm, crystal-clear (20-25 m visibility) and relatively warm
compared to same latitude regions. As Jess says with her eyes “wide open”: this
is mind blowing!
Without thinking twice I shook off my laziness
and, before the awful and cold winter strikes, I happily drove to Milford Sound
in order to do a couple of dives. This is one of the most scenic and enjoyable
drives that someone can do in New Zealand, reaching Milford through a tunnel so
narrow and steep that in Europe will be illegal, leaves you breathless. This
road reaches an altitude of more than 1000 m so, in order to avoid the
decompression sickness (bubbles inside the body generated by breathing
compressed air while diving that will increase their size when the pressure
decreases, as it happens with altitude) when leaving Milford after scuba diving,
it is compulsory to stay overnight there.
So I got to Milford at 9 in the morning but the meeting time was at 10 so I went to the only toilet that exists there. I used the women’s one because I didn’t read the sign properly (it said it was a unisex toilet from 7 to 7, but I didn’t realize that it was from pm to am). Anyway just when I wanted to get out of there two girls came in and started washing dishes. I didn’t want them to see me so I stayed there waiting for them to finish their business. Then I guess a bus arrived because the women flow in that toilet became constant. So I put myself together and showed up. I didn’t want to make that moment extra awkward so I didn’t stop in the sink to wash my hands, I went to the men’s bathroom to do it… but it was temporarily closed for cleaning. I was trapped, I had nowhere to go to wash my hands and I had a sandwich ready to be eaten for breakfast. Terrible! After this little adventure I managed to have a hygienic breakfast and get to the Deepwater Basin boat ramp at 10. There I met the crew and the diving buddies. They gave us the semidry suits and, once they saw me without my t-shirt, they gave me two extra 7 mm thick vests to avoid me becoming iceman.
Our first dive was in Penguin Cove, where the
fiord meets the open ocean. We went through the blurry black water layer and entered
into the peaceful and silent underworld that hides behind the surface. We
reached a depth of 25 m following a cliff where we found lobsters, a shark’s
egg, hydro red coral and huge black coral systems (they are white, it’s their
skeleton the one that it’s black) with snake starfish around them. We followed
the mountain wall until we got to a reef and then we went back to the surface
following a vertical white rock wall with cracks full of giant lobsters.
The semidry suit worked very good, insulating
me from the cold waters (15 degrees Celsius) of the fiord. It was very
interesting also the buoyancy system that we used. Instead of the usual
inflatable jacket we used a system called BP & W (back plate and wing)
which gives you a lot of freedom to move and helps you keeping a horizontal
diving position. It was the first time I used it and I loved it.
Back in the safety of the boat (the “Pacific
Runner”) we had some hot soup, cookies and chips. While waiting for the safety
time between dives to pass we swam to a nice hidden waterfall. It was ery nice.
We were ready for the second dive. Lance told
us that we had enough level and confidence to try a “true fiord dive” if we
were brave. We were very keen until we saw them programming the computers,
giving us torches and locator beacons “just in case you get a bit lost down
there”. We were scared but we all had our poker faces on so no one could tell.
We sailed to Cray’s Crack and jump into the water.
We sank like rocks until we reached a depth of
about 25 m and then we embraced the unrelenting darkness of the abyss. We left
the safety of the wall reference which was psychologically exhausting; we had a
200 m deep intriguing water world under us. That was the “true fiord dive”
challenge: being able to focus on diving while thinking about what was hiding
under us.
There, lost in my thoughts, I remembered Lance’s
tips for this dive: if you lose perception of up and down just follow your
bubbles, check the depth all the time with the computer because chances are
that you’ll get distracted and sink, don’t look down if you have a tendency to
imagine sea monsters, if you panic and believe that you are lost switch on the
torch and I’ll find you and, the most important, enjoy the magic of the
peaceful silent of the deep ocean.
We managed to stay in trance wandering the
depths of Milford for almost forty minutes, until we ran out of oxygen and had
to go up to the surface, slowly but steady to avoid our lungs to explode (we
were all familiar with Boyle’s law that says that pressure and volume are inversely
proportional in gases so if you go up, the pressure decreases so the volume of
the gas has to increase, hence your lungs can explode if you go up too fast).
After that we went back to the boat ramp and I
went to beg for a mattress to the only accommodation business in the park, the
Milford Lodge. They didn’t even have a nice luxury suit available so I had to
sleep in the car, but it wasn’t that bad because for 20 dollars they let me use
the lodge’s facilities. I slept like a baby, charging my batteries for the
following day, when I was meeting Marina and Pol in the McKenzie Hut of the
Routeburn.
There was a nice sunrise in Milford, it was
difficult to leave. I went to The Divide and started walking towards the McKenzie
Hut. Marina and Pol were running the Routeburn and I wanted to get there before
them. 4 hours after starting the hike, and when I was about to get to the hut,
I was surprised by a very high pitched shout of “Enrique!”. Marina and Pol were
running towards me and they didn’t stop, so I had to keep up and run with them
(I thought we were going to walk once we met).
We finished the Routeburn running
like olimpic athletes. Marina
and Pol did the 31 km in a bit more than 5 hours, the last 10 km with me as a
running buddie.
We got to The Divide car park with enough
energy to drive back to Glenorchy and have a well deserved rest.
Enrique & Marina
