Outpost and haven
Way out on the isolated end of Pelorus Sound at the top of the South Island is French Pass, one of New Zealand's most spectacular and historic coastal treasures.
The road out to the pass was first opened in 1957 and is a remarkable achievement as it climbs and descends along the ridgetop above sheltered bays and hidden harbours.
The hills are at first thickly forested, both above and below the road, with some large specimens of rimu, miro, and matai instantly recognisable. Beyond Okuri Peak, where the road reaches 500m, the bush suddenly draws back revealing an open treeless expanse of farmland stretching all the way to French Pass.
This dramatic change grants a sense of space against the wild blue backdrop of the sea. Here the long, twisted fingers of the outer Marlborough Sounds appear to float on the all encompassing tapestry of the ocean.
The hills seem disconnected from the mainland, as though they are islands, and this sense is emphasised by the prominent bulk of D'Urville Island blotting out the horizon to the north west.
Drawing you on, the road passes windswept summits where enchanting views of the inner sanctuary of Pelorus Sound slow the journey and send visitors reaching for a map to make some sense out of the confused topography that crowds in from any vantage.
It is an astounding interface between ocean and rough, steep hill country where colour, shape, and texture all compete for attention. It is best just to resign oneself to gazing at it all from the top of one of the minor summits like Orr Hill, 493m, where you can feel the wind and taste the salt air as it rushes through the dense wind-scorched vegetation.
At French Pass proper another experience awaits of an altogether different magnitude -- the raw power of the sea. Here in 1827 Dumont D'Urville plied the waters aboard the Astrolabe fighting wild currents, whirlpools, reefs, and vicious eddies between Admiralty Bay and Current Basin.
The pass was also frequently navigated by local Maori in canoes. Today the channel is treated with great respect by all-comers who pass warily through the narrow slick of water especially when the tide is coursing through at six to seven knots, as it does twice each day, foaming and boiling through the gap.
A short track descends from the road to the lookout point and from there through bush to a hidden beach which at low tide presents a wide sandy sweep and safe swimming as well as excellent fishing from the rocks at the mouth of the small bay.
Here, too, a rough, rocky scramble is possible, again at low tide, around the coast to the neck of the pass. This is an exciting diversion where intricate rock forms, exceptionally clear iridescent water, and the roar of the tide ripping through the pass heightens the sense of adventure.
Fishing is possible from many a rocky step, but beware the tide. At the tiny bay, where the bush reserve backs onto the beach, there is an array of polished stones and, for the observant, an army of hermit crabs in shallow water by the rocks. To seaward the ragged southern end of D'Urville Island blocks the bay, leaving only a southerly view toward Tasman Bay.
French Pass village is another focus of interest. A small cluster of buildings, a wharf, camping ground, and information centre, face north-east out of the bay toward D'Urville and the tiny Trios Island wildlife sanctuary.
It is the end of the way for travellers, unless you plan to visit D'Urville Island on a fast launch where further stunning scenery awaits. Yet the pass and the road, together with its charms, are reason enough to visit this far-flung outpost; a haven on the sea.
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