Wind, water and the Cook Strait

New Zealand undoubtedly produces more Geography than can be consumed locally. Anyone contemplating a field trip on which they will see everything from volcanoes to glaciers and fiords, with plenty of tectonic entertainment in between, would do well to wend their way to these isolated isles. And Wellington has its fair share. Balanced precariously on a the intersection of two major tectonic plates, it is proud possessor of a magnificent, sheltered, deep water harbour, shaped like a curly number nine. And sister! does it need that shelter – ay?

The harbour mouth opens into the Cook Strait – called after Captain James who sailed here not just once, but three times. Cook, evidently, was a cautious captain (go figure…) – Doubtful Sound was so dubbed because he was, quite rightly, doubtful that he would ever get a wind behind the sails to blow him out of the fiord. And he took the same low risk approach when it came to Wellington harbour. He would not have had to linger long to get taste of what wind and water can come up with in this part of the world.

But he gave his name (or maybe someone else gave his name) to the turbulent strait between the two main islands - where the tidal flow from the Pacific is battling with the opposing flow of the mighty Tasman. In the picture above you can see a line offshore where the two bodies of water are pushing in opposite directions and trying to elbow the other one out of the way. If you fly over the Strait this is something to look out for. (click on the pic to see it bigger)

And the weather, too, seems to make Wellington as a battle field. When there is a southerly breeze, you can feel that Antarctic chill – a taste of winter it seemed in the middle of last week. Then the warmer northerlies gain control and Wellingtonians put the fleeces away, pop their shorts back on - and in some cases walk past the upmarket shops on Lambton Quay with bare feet. But a lull like we are having does not last long. We appreciate the good days because we know that next week, or the week after, there will be a howling gale coming from either north or south. Possibly, but not necessarily, bearing rain. We look out at a deep valley here and one day, a few weeks ago, there seemed to be horizontal sheets of rain blasting from the north all morning and then from the south all afternoon. And the most unfamiliar weather of all, is when we get a gale – and bright sub tropical sunshine.

But the last couple of days the sun is shining, the wind turbine is revolving lazily, and everyone is appreciative.