[ad_1]
I’m on a piece of floating path, heading for a secret chocolate shop in the middle of Otago. Sounds a bit weird, right? Wait, there’s more.
The man in charge of this mobile bridge, known as “El Punt”, also owns a church, where he grows hops to make beer. Oh, and his name is Tom Jones.
No, the pop superstar is not taking refuge from Covid-19 by conducting a punt and brewing beer; but this story is almost as good. It’s all about gold, cars floating down the river, and even the occasional robbery.
But first, how did I get here? I’m on a 100 day New Zealand road trip exploring the best of our backyard and started this particular morning in the Catlins. Its windswept white sand beaches, waterfalls and wildlife cannot be found anywhere else.
Dawn passed over Nugget Point, as a magnificent mix of pink and fiery orange painted the sky over the iconic outcrop of rugged rocks.
While driving around the Catlins many times, this time I did something unusual: I turned inland, driving through the charming little town of Balclutha, before finally reaching the village of Tuapeka Mouth. This place is so mysterious that it feels like Area 51. Unlike the American version where top-secret testing is done, this is about testing how long you can preserve history.
Tuapeka is home to “The Punt”, which frankly at first glance looks like something you might find as part of a shonky river crossing in Cambodia. It basically consists of two old boats, linked together by a board, on which you drive your car. The worn look is due to its age; the pan was first installed in 1896 as a way to connect a remote gold mining camp across the river. People, horses, cows and sheep flocked to use it. A new model was installed in 1915 and it remains largely the same today.
How does it work? Two large cables are suspended across the fast-flowing river. The punt is connected to both cables, and once your car is on board, the launcher turns the boat slightly with a rudder, which means the side of the boat takes the current. Because it is connected to a wire, it cannot go back, so it glides across the river. No engines, just pure physics.
As you can imagine, you’ve seen some spectacular setbacks over the years. In 1913, a horse and a carriage (two-wheeled cart) backed away. A lady fell into the river and was found alive 1.5 kilometers downstream. A story article prepared for the Australasian Engineering Heritage Conference explains that “In 1928, John and Mary Fahey got on the ferry for the first time, their Chevrolet didn’t stop and they jumped into the river. The clearance man used her boat and threw a rope to rescue John, but Mrs. Fahey, dragged by a fur coat, drowned. “
In 1931, a car was started in reverse and pushed a horse and a concert out of the rear. And then it was time, almost Hollywood-style, a V8 coupe parked at the top of the ramp. Its brakes failed, and the car raced down and flew into the river, sinking under the approaching punt.
The locals even had a reputation for occasional “punt robberies” – taking the ferry across the river themselves for urgent matters if the operator had retired for the night.
Yet for more than 30 years, the clearance has been uneventful, calming my nerves as I approach the river in a brand new Kona Electric. Hyundai has kindly loaned me the car for the road trip, and my blood pressure shoots up when I read a sign that says punt users do so at their own risk. Once upon a time this thing carried horses, now I’m about to cross a state-of-the-art electric car. It does many things, but floating is not one of them.
The puntsman Tom Jones greets us with a big smile, and I go straight to the point and ask him if he has lost a car. With a wry smile, he replies, “not yet.”
Tom explains that most Kiwis have no idea that the punt exists, despite being of international importance; it is the only one that continues to operate in the southern hemisphere. In fact, Tom lived in Dunedin for 20 years and didn’t know it.
The punt is free to use, because Tom explains that it is technically considered a bridge (just one that floats), assuring us that it may look old, but it has modern safety features. He even took five nuns to cross recently. God surely wouldn’t test the waters with something a little doubtful. But enough talking, it’s time to clear.
With members of the public stopped and looking both sides of the river, I drive our silent electric car onto the platform. The first thing you notice is how fast the river is moving, which Tom assures me is useful, because it needs the flow to get to the other side.
My most nervous moment comes when I approach the platform. I’ve seen too many videos on Facebook of things like this going horribly wrong, with the boat shot up and the car hanging precariously in the middle before disappearing underneath. But I don’t need to worry; four great chains hold us firmly to the dock.
Once on board, Tom goes to work. There is no button to do it for him; the puntsman needs to continually adjust the rudder to alter its speed; it’s an art thing to see.
In the middle of the river, we gained a lot of speed and began to generate waves. This is the closest our Hyundai will get to surfing. When we get to the fast-moving part of the river, Tom adjusts the rudder, so we slide to the other side and touch the shore with a gentle push. I joke that he must have learned to kick in Venice. This is the Interislander style, Clutha, and I love it.
In an age of relentless efficiency, it’s remarkable that these little historical gems still exist, and Tom doesn’t think they’re going to go away any time soon.
“I was a little nervous, we had some floods that occurred in January and they washed away one of the landing sites. That would have been the ideal opportunity for the public authorities to say that it has run its course. But it was great to see that they invest the money on revamping the platform. So for me, that gives me a lot of confidence that it will stay exactly the way it is. “
After successfully navigating to the other side, we continued the long way to Lawrence (it would have been shorter to avoid clearance) but the scenic drive up the Clutha River is worth it.
Lawrence was once the center of the Otago gold rush, but today it’s another guy taking the town by storm: a sugar rush.
Lawrence Mint is a different chocolate shop. These are handcrafted creations in small batches, and in a small town of around 500 people, it has a steady stream of devotees worshiping at the cocoa altar. The fudge and cheesecakes are also exceptional. The store is only open on Fridays, and for one day of the week it becomes Lawrence’s center of gravity.
What a day: the Catlins in the morning, a pan for lunch and a hidden chocolate shop to end the day.
2020 is the year of Covid-19, but it is also the year that kiwis hit the road to explore our backyard. When planning your next adventure, aim for Clutha.
More information: The pan’s hours of operation are 10 am to 2 pm seven days a week, but it depends on the weather. Check the Tuapeka Mouth Ferry Facebook page for the latest operating hours and weather updates: facebook.com/TuapekaMouthFerry
For more information on Clutha, see: cluthanz.com
Where to stay: Mata-au Lodge, in Beaumont, starts at $ 180 a night for two. See: beaumontaccommodation.com
The author’s trip was supported by Clutha NZ.
Brook Sabin and Radha Engling travel the length of New Zealand on a Stuff Travel country road trip in a new Hyundai Kona Electric. The vehicle has 449 km of range in the real world on a single charge; for more information see: Hyundai.co.nz/Kona-electric. This story was produced as part of an editorial partnership with Tourism New Zealand. Read more about the content of our association here.