“On a Mish” #243 A Wet Night at Homer Hut (Part Two). Upper Hollyford Valley / Gerturde Valley. Fiordland National Park. 20.12.2015. Aotearoa New Zealand has one of the best backcountry hut networks on the planet. There are around 950 shelters of different shapes and sizes dotted around our remote areas. On many occasions I have rested my weary body in the comfort and safety of a little home away from home, and when the weather hasn’t been the driest for hiking, getting to the hut has been as enjoyable as the scenery. Back in 2015 I joined my girlfriend when she was the Hut Warden at Homer Hut in the Darran Mountains, and I was about to find out how much of a safe sanctuary the hut really is when Fiordland rain comes rumbling through…
Most people traveling along the Milford Road will be doing a quick in and out mission and won’t be experiencing the place after dark. There is something so special about an overnight mish in Fiordland, and usually the weather decides whether it is possible or not. When heavy rain falls you need to be in one of the very few shelters in the massive national park or under cover somewhere else!
After making our way to Homer Hut we were met by the warden we would be substituting for, and he showed us around the place. Our main role was to collect the hut fees and make sure the place was kept clean. An optional side job was chopping up firewood, and I can safely say it was the most dramatic location I have ever chopped wood. The last thing we were shown was our accommodation which was at the southern end of the hut. Unfortunately, the hut’s radio was out of action, but we shouldn’t need to use it, right?
We spent the first couple of days chopping wood and cleaning, as well as having a good look at the hut’s collection of books and climbing guides. The Darran Mountain Climbing Guide is on of my favourite books, and to sit where some of the gnarliest missions have begun from was quite an honour. I was extremely happy to have the opportunity to become a tiny part of the hut’s illustrious history.
The hut remained quiet for the first couple of nights and then all of a sudden, we had action! Along with the possibility of some heavy rain we were joined by a big group of French / New Caledonians stopped in with their guides for a couple of nights. They spent the day climbing around the Homer Saddle area and then at night they returned to celebrate in a very French way. Along with some high-quality cheeses, we also drank French wine from huge magnum bottles which they had brought all the way from Europe to Fiordland.
While the party in the Darran Mountains went on, the rain began to fall, and it fell like only Fiordland rain can. Every now and then I would pop outside and look at the waterfall of rain pouring off the roof of the building. Even though it was dark I had an idea of how wild the place would look as it was battered by an immense amount of water.
After a night of entertainment nearly as wild as the weather, we wished our fellow hut-mates bonne nuit (goodnight). Just before leaving I was asked if the rain would cause any issues the next day? Foolishly I said “there shouldn’t be any issues”. I would regret saying this the next day.
I woke a couple of times during the night to the sound of thunder and the rumble of rain falling at an incredible rate. At first light I looked out the window and told my girlfriend that our guests might have a watery problem on their hands. Between the hut and the car park is a riverbed which is waterless most of the time. Now, thanks to the rain it was a river which was growing in size and force. We (my girlfriend and I) manged to negotiate the river and get to the car park, and that was when we discovered a puddle on the driveway. A puddle that was waist deep and getting bigger! Our French / New Caledonian friends were going to have a problem continuing on with their Aotearoa Climbing Adventures.
We headed to the hut’s main lounge / kitchen to inform the group about the new river that had popped up overnight. The group told us they really wanted to get out so they could continue with their New Zealand climbing trip and could we see if a tow truck with a flat deck could come and pick up the cars and drive them over the puddle. We kept telling them that the water would drop once the rain stopped. Having no radio meant a hike up to ‘The Chapel’ (now gone) where there is a public phone. Our French friends needed help and we were going to do our best to accommodate our guests needs…
