The Many Adventures of Captain James Cook

Daily Photo – Otago harbour

When Captain James Cook and his little tub, the HMS Endeavour, appeared off the Otago coast in February 1770, he was already on something of a hot streak. He had been sent to the Pacific to observe the Transit of Venus in Tahiti the year before and, having completed the task, was given free rein to bob about the South Pacific to see what else he could find. What he was really looking for was the assumed existence of Terra Australis Incognita, the great unknown southern continent that many Europeans were convinced lurked somewhere down under.

By the time he appeared off the Otago Coast, he had completed his scientific observations, his botanist Joseph Banks had collected and recorded thousands of previously unknown species of flora and fauna, he had named and claimed a number of islands for the British Crown, circumnavigated the entire North Island, identified and sailed through Cook Strait – proving that the North and South Islands were separate landmasses, created a remarkably accurate chart of the North Island coastline, and had begun charting the South Island.

By any standard it had been a successful trip. Once off the Otago coast, he noted several things in his journal. Firstly, the many coastal features suggested a potentially sheltered harbour. Secondly, he observed an abundance of whales and seals. The interesting point here is that he thought the entrance to Otago Harbour was nothing more than a bay and sailed on, while Europeans would return and slaughter the whale and seal populations to near extinction.

It had been only a few months since the Transit, but an astonishing amount had been achieved. So, apart from the small matter of almost wiping out an entire collection of marine species, the rest was pretty good work for someone who wasn’t really a captain at the time  – he just called himself one!

Wandering on Otago Peninsula

Daily Photo – Gun Emplacements at Harrington Point

For reasons that aren’t entirely clear, I recently wandered out to the gun emplacements at Harrington Point. Some people go to the beach, others enjoy a café. I apparently head straight for nineteenth century military architecture and hope the tide behaves itself.

The road out is classic Otago Peninsula travel. You lope past Macandrew Bay, Broad Bay and Portobello, each looking as though it had been arranged just slightly better than the last, until you reach Harrington Point where you try very hard to park your car “considerately”. This is New Zealand, so the definition of considerate is flexible – on this occasion I aimed for mildly annoying.

The fortifications were built in the 1880s when Dunedin became convinced the Russian Empire was about to stage a dramatic entrance. Quite how the Russians were expected to find us remains a mystery, given we sit in the Pacific like a crumb that fell off the edge of somebody’s biscuit. Still, enthusiasm trumped logic and a maze of tunnels, magazines and engine rooms was carved into the hillside.

Exploring the place today is great fun. You duck into passageways where the air echoes, climb staircases that lead to nowhere in particular and start to wonder how any invading navy would get past the seals who survey the area like slightly disinterested security staff. One seal gave me a look that seemed to say “good luck mate, you will twist your ankle before any Russians get you”.

The whole area feels like a half-forgotten relic from a time when New Zealand thought it was more strategically important than it probably was. Yet that is exactly why it is so charming. It is history wrapped in optimism, resting above a coastline that insists on being explored when the tide is right.

The Grounds at Larnach’s Castle

Daily Photo – The Grounds at Larnach’s Castle

Back in William Larnach’s day, the grounds of his wonderful home were very different from what they are now. Rather than lovely gardens and sweeping lawns, much of the land was used for orchards, vegetable plots, paddocks for the livestock, and workers going about their daily tasks. Larnach himself would have looked out over a busy, working estate.

Today, arriving at the grounds feels more like stepping into a painted postcard. The lawns roll gently underfoot, edged by carefully tended flowerbeds, ornamental trees, and vibrant beds of rhododendrons. The old glasshouses remain, but they now display exotic and native plants rather than providing food and sustenance. 

The change is quietly profound. What was once a practical, working farm has become a beautiful estate for visitors to admire. As you wander the paths now, you can almost hear echoes of footsteps long gone – gardeners, farmhands, horses taken over by the peaceful hum of today.

Rugged Beauty: The Otago Peninsula from Above

Daily Photo – The Otago Peninsula

Looking out over the Otago Peninsula, you can’t help but notice the way the land twists and folds like it’s been carefully shaped by a sculptor. The harbour nestles neatly in the curve of the coastline, while bays and inlets offer little hideaways for the local wildlife to go about their business in peace. The hills tumble toward the water, each ridge and dip hinting at the peninsula’s long, slow geological form. It’s a reminder that this part of New Zealand has its own personality, and it’s impossible not to be charmed by it.

The Shape of the Peninsula

Daily Photo – The Otago Peninsula

I had always thought that the Otago Peninsula was an interesting shape, with all its bays, inlets, and promontories that border the Otago Harbour before meeting the open sea. It’s like the spine of a taniwha as it twists and turns its way from where Dunedin city now sits to the harbour mouth at Taiaroa Head. To drive the peninsula is one thing; however, it’s not until you see it from a high vantage point that you truly get a sense of its unique shape. It really is no wonder that, an abundance of wildlife was able to thrive undisturbed for centuries in its secluded coves and sheltered valleys, hidden away from the rest of the world by the folds of its rugged hills and the long, protective arm of the harbour.

The Magnificent Boulder Beach

Daily Photo – The Magnificent Boulder Beach

Boulder Beach, the place is magnificent. A rugged, windswept slice of South Island coastline that looks as though it hasn’t seen a nice promenade in its entire geological existence. No neat boardwalks, no conveniently placed benches. Just raw, elemental beauty and a sense that the wind has been in charge here for quite some time. The beach itself is a glorious jumble of colossal volcanic stones and dark boulders that clearly took a fair bit of tectonic enthusiasm to create. Between them are carefully placed pockets of fine sand, that arrived on wind and next waves. It’s beautiful, but let’s be honest, you wouldn’t want to jog on it.

More importantly, this wild stretch of coast is a vital sanctuary for the yellow-eyed penguin, or Hoiho, a bird so rare it seems perpetually startled by its own continued existence. The Department of Conservation, bless their cotton socks, does a sterling job protecting them, closing off parts of the area for months at a time while the penguins get on with the serious business of breeding. If you’re lucky enough to visit outside of those times, it’s a wonderful reminder of how nature can still write its own rules. You might spot a Hoiho making its slightly awkward way up the sand, or perhaps find yourself the subject of a disapproving glare from a resident sea lion. Best advice: keep your distance, there’s nothing quite like being told off by a several-hundred-kilo local to remind you who really owns the beach.

It’s a place that feels defiantly untamed, as if it’s politely declined every human attempt to tidy it up. And thank goodness for that. Because every so often, it’s good to stand somewhere that reminds you that nature, even here at the far edge of the world, remains profoundly and beautifully unmanageable.

The Highcliff Track

Daily Photo – The Highcliff Track

A few of the enduring pleasures of summer in Aotearoa are beach days, barbecues that stretch long into the evening, and exploring walking tracks beneath the hot summer sun. And when it comes to places for walking, the Otago Peninsula has plenty to choose from. It’s one of those rare places that manages to feel both wild and welcoming at the same time, a glorious stretch of land where the views go on forever and you can easily lose an entire morning deciding which track to take next. There’s no shortage of choice out here, and each path seems to promise some new discovery, or at the very least, a better view than the one you’ve just left behind.

One of my favourite route begins down McMeeking Road – a lovely, meandering descent that eventually links up with the Highcliff Track proper, winding through open farmland and coastal bush before spilling you out towards Boulder Beach. From there, you can loop back via the Paradise Road Track, which climbs up to Highcliff Road, a satisfying, if occasionally breath-stealing, end to the journey.

Shiver Me Timbers

Daily Photo – Garage Door on the Otago Peninsula

It’s Robert Louis Stevenson we can thank for the term “Shiver me timbers.” The phrase first appeared in his 1883 classic Treasure Island, tumbling out of the mouths of salty sea dogs like Long John Silver. Despite what people think, before Stevenson, there’s no written record of pirates – or anyone else – actually saying it. What we do know is that the “timbers” were the wooden ribs of a ship, and to have them “shivered” meant they were splintered or shaken by cannon fire or rough seas. So, when a pirate bellowed “Shiver me timbers!” he’s really just expressing shock or alarm, the way we might say today “Good grief!” or “You’re kidding!”. Over time, it became one of those wonderfully pirate catchphrases, cemented by Hollywood and Halloween costumes. So next time you hear it, tip your hat to Stevenson – without him, our pirates might be a lot less colourful, and a lot less fun.

Harrington Point on the Otago Peninusla

Daily Photo – Harrington Point Gun Emplacement

The other month I went for a wander out to the Harrington Point gun emplacements on the Otago Peninsula, one of those places you always mean to explore properly but never quite get around to. I’d driven the long, winding road past the familiar waterside spots of Macandrew Bay, Broad Bay and Portobello, through Ōtākou and on to Taiaroa Head, before parking my car as carefully as possible at Harrington Point.

The site itself was first constructed in the late 1880s, when the good people of Dunedin were convinced the Russian Empire was about to sail in and start something dreadful. The whole complex, observation posts, underground tunnels, magazines, engine rooms and all was built in earnest anticipation of a war that, of course, never came. Still, it must have made for excellent local gossip at the time.

That afternoon I wandered, tripped and scrambled my way around the remains, occasionally losing my footing and my sense of direction but never my curiosity. The incoming tide lapped at the rocks below the cliffs as I explored the old stairwells and passageways, hoping to stumble upon some long-forgotten relic. From one weathered doorway a narrow stairwell led deeper underground, connecting a warren of echoing tunnels and rusting fittings that once formed the nerve centre of Dunedin’s defences.

It’s an amazingly fun and oddly peaceful coastline, part history lesson, part playground with seabirds and seals forever close to hand, as if they, too, were keeping watch for something that might not arrive.

Boulder Beach on the Otago Peninsula

Daily Photo – Boulder Beach on the Otago Peninsula

Earlier in the year, I took a walk down to Boulder Beach on the Otago Peninsula. The idea came to me one evening when, having a few days spare, I decided I would put it to good use and get in some physical exercise. This was at odds with my initial plan, which had been to lay on the couch and watch Major League Baseball, moving only to go to the toilet and gather more snacks that I would inevitably accumulate in a large pile in front me! So, after a heated debate with myself, I eventually settled on the walk and the next morning I headed out the door with an eagerness in my step, a spirited sense of adventure, and a bag full with camera equipment. 

Once upon a time, access to Boulder Beach was possible via a well-maintained and signposted track that led down to the beach. Along the way, walking tracks branched off through the dunes and up over the nearby hills. You could spend an entire day exploring them, and never walk the same track twice. Now, all those paths are a distant memory, and for good reason – it is a protected wildlife area. You see, it is often visited by fur seals and sea lions, and is a favoured nesting spot for yellow-eyed penguins. In fact, the beach is so popular with these shy, nesting birds that the track is closed to the public from November to February during the breeding season.

I walked down to the beach. The farm road was longer and steeper than I remembered, and the nearby sand dunes had collapsed, resulting in an unexpected excursion through newly formed valleys, overgrown and heavy with dune. Reaching the bottom of the hill, I pushed my way through dense bushes tangled with vines. Every so often, the path would disappear—only to reappear moments later.

Eventually, after much swearing, I stumbled upon the isolated, wild, windswept beach. Golden dunes spilled to the shoreline, while large mounds of dark, smooth stones stretched along the beach and into the distance. The air was rich with salt, and the rhythm of waves rolling beneath the endless blue sky. Quiet, peaceful, and serene.

Hoopers Inlet Road – No Exit

Daily Photo – Hoopers Inlet Road – No Exit

I found this sign while out on the Otago Peninsula. There’s something about it that seems to say so much about rural life on the Otago Peninsula. It points to roads that feel like they’ve been forgotten about. Where there’s wind-bent grass, broken fence posts and long silences. Occasionally a local passes in a ute with a friendly wave, birds hover over ahead, and the weather changes quickly.

Sunrise On Otago Peninsula

Daily Photo – Sunrise on Otago Peninsula

Then, a few mornings later I found myself chasing a sunrise along the hills on Otago Peninsula not far from Harbour Cone. It was early, painfully early, but as the sky caught fire with orange and crimson, any hint of tiredness vanished. A lone cabbage tree stood silhouetted against the light, like some timeless sentry watching over the land. The harbour below shimmered with colour as the first light of day spread across the hills. That’s the beauty of this place, there’s always something to discover and no two views are ever the same, and each step feels like an adventure.

Storm Clouds Over Otago Harbour

Daily Photo – Storm Clouds Over Otago Harbour

A while ago, I tackled the steep but stunning walk up Harbour Cone. The path weaved through golden tussock and scattered rocks, the wind at my back for company as I climbed higher. At the top, a brooding sky pressed down over Otago Harbour, dark clouds rolling in like something out of a gothic novel. Below, the fringes of the peninsula reached into the harbour, with bays and inlets nestled quietly along the shoreline. It was all rather stunning, dramatic and very tiring.

Derelict Building Near Larnach’s Castle

Daily Photo – Derelict building on Camp Road.

It was while I was out exploring the tracks around the Hereweka property near Larnach’s Castle that I came across these ruins. I’d spent a good portion of the day walking up and down hills, climbing over and under things, taking wrong turns, stepping over and in sheep poo and generally rather enjoying myself. Before heading home, I came across this derelict building on the Larnach estate. It looked to be an old cottage of some description going by the layout, room sizes and fireplaces, maybe to do with the farm that was operating at the time when Larnach occupied the property. But then again, this is just an assumption. Either way, it was fun to explore and photograph.

Otago Peninsula from Harbour Cone

Otago Peninsula from Harbour Cone

It was steep, very steep and the weather was changing quickly. Turns out that pamphlet I had read before leaving home was right. Who knew the people who wrote those things actually knew what they were talking about? I hadn’t noticed it at first, but now I was actually starting to feel rather cold. The wind? Oh yeah, definitely picking up. And the rain? Spitting again, this time a wee bit harder.

At the summit, I stood for a moment, let the wind blow through my hair, and fixed my gaze beyond the horizon. I stayed a while to take a few photos, enjoy the view, and have a drop of water. It really was quite spectacular. Standing there, at the highest point on the peninsula, I suddenly knew what it must have felt like for Sir Edmund Hillary when he reached the top of Mount Everest. It was nice to have something in common with the great man.

Papanui Inlet

Papanui Inlet

Recently, I’ve been spending a fair bit of time on the Otago Peninsula on a number of photographic outings. These journey’s aren’t particularly planned ahead of time, instead I have a list of locations in my head that I pick from, depending on the time of day and weather. The peninsula can be such a moody place when the weather changes and low clouds roll in. That’s what happened here while at Cape Saunders – low misty rain and heavy cloud cover drifted in from out at sea within a matter of minutes.

Boulder Beach, Otago Peninsula

Boulder Beach, Otago Peninsula

Before I went there a few days ago, about all I really remembered about Boulder Beach, beyond the fact it had sand and rocks, was that access was via a farm road, followed by a short walk through sand dunes.

Like so many parts of the Otago Peninsula, Boulder Beach is managed by the Department of Conservation. Once upon a time, a well-maintained and signposted track led down to the beach, with further walking tracks branching off through the dunes and up over the nearby hills. All those paths are now a distant memory.

The beach survives, but in a very different way. As a protected area under the Department of Conservation, it is often visited by fur seals and sea lions, and is a favoured nesting spot for yellow-eyed penguins. In fact, the beach is so popular with these shy, nesting birds that the track is closed to the public from November to February during the breeding season.

I walked down to the beach. The farm road was longer and steeper than I remembered, and the nearby sand dunes had collapsed, resulting in an unexpected excursion through newly formed valleys, overgrown and heavy with dune. Reaching the bottom of the hill, I pushed my way through dense bushes tangled with vines. Every so often, the path would disappear—only to reappear moments later.

Eventually, after much swearing, I stumbled upon the isolated, wild, windswept beach. Golden dunes spilled to the shoreline, while large mounds of dark, smooth stones stretched along the beach and into the distance. The air was rich with salt, and the rhythm of waves rolling beneath the endless blue sky. It was just as I remembered it: quiet, peaceful, and serene.

Hare on Fence Line

Hare on Fence Line

This image is my take on rural life on the peninsula—unfiltered and a bit rough around the edges. I initially drove past this scene after first seeing it. Something about it stuck with me. It’s not an easy picture, and that’s part of why I took it. There’s no drama, no movement—just a quiet, weathered kind of finality.

At first, I wasn’t sure what to do with it. But on a still, grey morning, walking the same fenceline, I realised this was really a photo about boundaries, both literal and symbolic. Out here, fences mark more than just paddocks. Sometimes they hold stories, or reminders. This hare, caught and left, becomes part of the land in a strange way. You see things like this from time to time. No explanation, just a presence.

Rural life can be harsh. There’s beauty in it, but not always the kind you hang on a postcard. This photo sits with that reality. Quiet, a little uncomfortable, and honest.

Natural Beauty & Rugged Charm

An isolated section of coast on the Otago Peninsula

I’d spent the afternoon walking some of the tracks that cross farmland on the Otago Peninsula. Tucked away on the southeastern edge of New Zealand’s South Island, it really is a treasure trove of natural beauty and rugged charm that never fails to impress. It has so many wonderful and incredible spots sometimes it’s hard to know where to start. This is the view from part of the Highcliff track looking down on one of the isolated sections of coast.

A Walk On An Empty Stomach

The Solider’s Memorial on the Otago Peninsula

In the evening I decided to walk one of the peninsula tracks up to the Solider’s Memorial. Having not heard any news in the past week, I loaded a podcast that promised to bring me ‘all the latest news from around the country’. Having set off, after several minutes I quickly discovered that the major local news focus seemed to be centring around the government’s restructuring of a nation-wide school lunch programme. Essentially, wanting to save money, the government took a well run scheme that provided healthy, nutritious and tasty school lunches to thousands of children and slashed millions of dollars from its budget. The result of course has been disastrous! Schools have been delivered an endless quantity of uneatable macaroni and cheese that simply gets thrown away by children due to its nasty taste and off putting smell. In his infinite wisdom, the Prime Minister responded to the uproar by advising parents to pack a sandwich and an apple if they weren’t happy. 

I pondered this problem walking up the hill. Nearing the end of the track and the monument, I began to think of solutions instead of throwing the lunches away. I also wondered if the schools in the Wellington region had really investigated all the food recycling options available. I would like to suggest that they could gather all the uneaten meals and send them to the houses parliament via Uber Eats. The cabinet could have them as an afternoon snack while discussing more ways to stumble and stammer through interviews and avoiding giving straight answers to straight questions.

Sandymount Recreational Reserve

Sandy Mount Recreational Reserve walking track

I spent the morning exploring the Otago Peninsula. Eventually coming across the Sandymount Recreational Reserve. There used to be tracks that led to natural land features called the Chasm and Lover’s Leap but those old tracks are now closed and there are mean spirited warning signs that tell you so; ‘Warning significant falls exist.’ ‘High winds and falling trees – beware!’ ‘Unstable land and high cliffs-keep to marked tracks’ and ‘Brodifacoum Poison do not eat!’

Fortunately the new track leads to a viewing platform that offers a stunning vista looking out over Allans Beach, Hoopers Inlet, Mt Charles and inland to Harbour Cone, so you’re not really missing too much. However, on this occasion, the track was closed as the farmer was separating Lambs from Ewes or doing some other farm-ish activity I didn’t understand. So, I amused myself by walking through the trees trying to guess how old they were. My estimate was 376 years, 4 months and 17 days. Though, I’m willing to admit I might be slightly off!

Peggy’s Hill

Otago Peninsula and Harbour Cone from Peggy’s Hill

It’s not hard to see why William Larnarch chose this spot to build his grand house and estate in 1871. The story goes that while out riding with his son, William Larnach came across a location near Peggy’s Hill which he immediately loved. After purchasing the land and much of the surrounding area, he then employed the well known architect Robert Lawson to complete the design. The site was then cleared and levelled, allowing construction to begin in 1871.

Farm Shed with Hay Bales

Farm Shed with Hay Bales

I came across this hayshed near Cape Saunders. After spending some time studying the scene, I started looking at the composition in the form of lines, squares, rectangles, circles and cylinders. It’s always interesting to see how the eye can be moved around inside the frame with the arrangement of elements that suggest habitation and time which I’ve always enjoyed. In this case, a corrugated metal shed on the right side and a row of wrapped hay bales in front of it is backdropped by a grassy field enclosed by a rustic fence.

Chimney Stack At Hereweka

Chimney Stack at Hereweka

While I enjoy walking through cities and towns transcribing what I see in words or images, I also enjoy getting out to more remote locations. Every so often I find myself drawn to creating photos that are more of a long stare than a quick glance. There are element’s of remoteness, past habitation, time, the passing of time and timelessness that I find myself coming back to again and again. It might be a fence line covered in mist, an old metal shed, an abandoned house or a stone wall on a rolling hill but they all hold deep and compelling meaning to me. In this case an old chimney stack on the former farmstead owned by William Larnach in the 1870’s made an interesting subject. In this image the challenge was ensuring the sunburst coming through the trees didn’t dominate the whole scene.

Glenfalloch in Dunedin

Evening on Otago Harbour from Glenfalloch

The next day, on impulse I headed for Portobello Road on the Otago Peninsula. Running along the edge of Otago Harbour from near the city to the peninsula suburb of Portobello, a distance of around 15 kilometres, the road has a popular shared walking and cycle path. A perfect place if your preference is for a lazy stroll along the flat. 

Having spent the last few days walking over hills and on beaches, on this occasion I opted for a more horizontal surface below my feet and the shared walk-cycleway of Portobello Road seemed just the ticket. Setting out from the local Vauxhall Yacht club on the edge of Otago Harbour, I followed the road which snakes along the base of the peninsula until sometime later I arrived at a popular spot called Glenfalloch as the hues of the evening sky took hold. There, I’d spent around half an hour photographing the sunset when it suddenly occurred to me I still had to go back to my car. And that was 6 kilometres away! So, as darkness took hold, I turned and headed for my vehicle, which felt quite some distance away.

Dunner Stunner Sunset

Sunset above Dunedin

I had made my way to the soldiers memorial on the Otago Peninsula. The monument stands an impressive 280 metres above sea level and recognises those who lost their lives in World War I and II. While it’s a steep climb, the end result is an impressive view of the Otago Harbour. From there, I took a track down the other side of the hill which led me through farmland to a very delightful lagoon on the opposite side of the peninsula. It was while I was wandering around this lagoon taking in the bird life, that I realised my car was still at the top of the hill. So, not fancying the idea of retracing my tracks back through the steep farm paddocks, I detoured to the not so steep Centre Road which links the road heading over the top of the Otago Peninsula to the suburbs of Ocean Grove and Tomahawk. A while later, after a slow walk back up to the top of the peninsula, I noticed that the sky was starting to turn a wonderful hue as the light faded into evening. Having come this far, I figured a few more steps wouldn’t hurt as I pushed on up to a lookout to view the evening sunset.