Discovering Milford Sound: A Whining Adventure Without Illness 03
After acclimating to the time difference in New Zealand, I hopped aboard a tour bus in the quaint town of Te Anau, bound for one of the South Island’s most celebrated natural wonders. This breathtaking site, often hailed by Air New Zealand’s flight attendants as the “Eighth Wonder of the World,” is none other than Milford Sound.
As we journeyed north along serpentine mountain roads, the landscape outside my window transformed from lush pastures and serene lakes to towering, mist-shrouded mountains and ancient, primeval forests. After passing through the Homer Tunnel, it felt like we had entered an entirely new world.
Around midday, I stepped onto a two-story cruise ship, savoring the aroma of roasted veal leg, and set off on my voyage through the fjord. Milford Sound is known for its exceptionally high annual rainfall, but on this particular day, the weather was nothing short of perfect, with clear blue skies and fluffy white clouds, giving the area an almost ethereal, Middle-earth-like quality, reminiscent of Tolkien’s descriptions.
The fjord’s sides are lined with steep, jagged cliffs, as if they were carved by a colossal axe. The deepest part of the fjord plunges over 300 meters, while the surrounding peaks soar to 1200 meters, creating a dramatic and awe-inspiring vertical drop. It felt like sailing through a majestic version of the Three Gorges, but unlike those water-eroded valleys, this landscape was sculpted by glaciers during the Quaternary Ice Age, tens of thousands of years ago.
The thick glaciers slowly advanced through the valleys, smoothing and deepening the terrain, forming U-shaped valleys. When the glaciers melted, seawater flooded in, creating the stunning fjord topography we see today. This natural masterpiece, crafted over millennia, presents a unique and unparalleled landscape that is truly one-of-a-kind.
The cruise ship glided gracefully through the winding waterways of the fjord. After nearly an hour, we ventured out into the Tasman Sea, where a fierce wind instantly chilled my face. In June, the powerful westerly winds of the Southern Hemisphere, combined with the fjord’s wind tunnel effect and the winter sea conditions of the Tasman Sea, created a force 7 wind, accompanied by swells up to 2.
5 meters high. As the ship approached the open sea, it felt like we were aboard a pirate ship, thrilling and exhilarating, and I loved every moment of it.
Considering the majority of seasick or uncomfortable passengers, the captain allowed only a brief moment for a photo before steering us back into the inner fjord, heading towards a must-see spectacle—Stirling Falls. The waterfall cascades more than 3,000 feet, with a massive volume of glacial meltwater plummeting from a cliff over 150 meters high, striking the water surface with incredible force.
The kinetic energy disperses the water into a fine, misty spray. As the boat drew closer, the wind carried the mist, stinging and chilling our faces, but I managed to capture the stunning scene. Fortunately, my outerwear was waterproof, and the temperature was a brisk 3 degrees Celsius. By the time I returned to the cabin, my hair was soaked, and I quickly dried it with the cabin’s hairdryer to avoid catching a chill.
The cruise spanned a delightful two hours. On the return journey, I stood on the deck, mesmerized by the breathtaking panorama cradled between towering mountains and shimmering waters. This exquisitely crafted landscape, in its raw and unspoiled beauty, exudes a sense of majesty and enigma. As I departed, I bid the captain a heartfelt “kia ora, kia ora,” feeling a tinge of longing and vowing to return. Next time, I am determined to tackle the seven-day trek above Milford Sound.
Low clouds shroud the sound, the waterfall’s thunderous roar sending a chill,
A solitary boat slices through the wind, venturing into the boundless sea.
Thousand-foot stone gates conceal the icy green,
A silver ribbon cascades from the azure peaks.
— July 2, 2024, aboard flight MH2746
