Three Weeks In New Zealand With An IWC Watch — Witnessing Avalanches And Trekking On Glaciers
The first thing you notice when you’re thousands of feet above the earth is the silence. Weather is highly changeable in mountain ranges, and where I find myself is particularly known for sudden shifts. In 10 minutes, it can go from crystal clear and sunny to a dense, cloudy fog that threatens rain and dangerous winds. I look down at the IWC watch on my wrist. It’s already been just over five hours, and I’ve only ascended about 2,000 feet.
The silence, though, becomes much more noticeable as fog settles over the mountain range. When trekking, I hear a “thud, thud, thud” sound, like some primordial force is trying to shift the whole mountain. The sound is of an avalanche in the distance. The shape of the valley I’m climbing in is the perfect amplifier for this momentous movement of rock, ice, and water. Every half hour or so as I climb, the mountain creaks again with another avalanche. It’s a restless moment for the Southern Alps in New Zealand. Summer has brought with it melting ice, and that provides fertile ground for avalanches.
Enough stairs to make a mountain goat cry
I am hiking up in the shadow of two mountains, Mt. Sefton and Mt. Cook, the latter of which is also known as Aoraki. The name Aoraki means “Cloud Piercer” in Maori. It’s an apt name, too, as the peak glistens proudly in the sunlight, clearly distinguishing itself for many miles of horizon. Aoraki is a perilous peak, even by the standard of hazardous climbing. More than 240 souls have been lost on that peak and its surrounds since the start of the 20th century. The mountain’s terrain is technically difficult because of the many crevasses, high avalanche risk, changeable weather, and glacier movement. Even now, the mountain continues to claim the lives of even the most experienced mountaineers.
I am doing a much easier route along Mt. Sealy as part of the Mueller track. What awaits at the top of this track is a distinctive red hut where climbers can stay the night. In 2003, it was officially opened by Sir Edmund Hillary, who reached the peak of Mt. Everest with Tenzing Norgay in 1953. The track is reasonably difficult, though, involving a lot of rock scrambling and enough stairs to make even a mountain goat cry. The sound of kea birds can be heard as I make my way slowly up the mountain. These birds are highly inquisitive and very cheeky.
A trip to my spiritual homeland
I’ve come to New Zealand for a few weeks to reconnect with a part of my heritage that I neglected since my early 20s (I’m now in my early 30s). Recently, I have gone through significant personal changes, and this has led me to reconnect with my passions and the places that have been significant in my life. The pinnacle of that is this trip to New Zealand. It can be intimidating laying out a map of a country with three weeks to spare and no exact idea of where you are going to go. But relishing the knowledge that I had an objective, I threw myself headlong into the adventure. Thankfully, New Zealand is quite safe, particularly by the standards of some of the countries I have either been posted to for work or covered through the course of my relatively young career in journalism.
A major part of this trip was immersing myself in the mountain landscapes of New Zealand’s South Island. The personal challenge I presented myself was making this trip to take impactful landscape imagery, particularly with a film camera. This meant taking not only a digital camera but also one with 35mm film. Before the trip, I had considered taking a medium-format Rolleiflex TLR camera. The larger film negatives provide greater flexibility and image quality than 35mm film. But the advantage of 35mm film, for me, was the fact that I had a more complete camera setup for this format. I could take a couple of great wide-angle lenses (21mm and 28mm) as well as something with a little more reach for smaller details or to isolate a particular image component (90mm).
Taking an IWC watch (or two)
Taking a watch on this trip was also a significant decision. In the end, I went with two watches. One was my grandfather’s Caliber 89, which I’ll write about in a separate feature, while the other was the IWC RAAF that I have been spending time with. The IWC RAAF watch would be advantageous because it’s highly legible and has a 100m water resistance rating, which would be useful for icy plunges into glacial lakes, rivers, and the Pacific Ocean that skirts New Zealand.
Yuichiro Miura in New Zealand
This isn’t the first time that New Zealand has been featured on Fratello. Some readers may recall an article I wrote about the man who skied down Mt. Everest with a Certina DS-2 watch. Yuichiro Miura also trained in New Zealand, and we have a photo of him near Mt. Cook. This is because this part of New Zealand is considered a bit of a mecca for mountaineers. The different conditions and the fact that the mountains are not always particularly close to towns or villages provide a distinct and wilder experience than the mountains of Europe.
Chopping a path through the ice
A particularly memorable part of the adventure was the opportunity to hike on one of New Zealand’s great glaciers. Fox Glacier, on the South Island, is a 13km-long temperate maritime glacier in Westland Tai Poutini National Park on New Zealand’s West Coast. According to Maori legend, the glacier is known as Te Moeka o Tuawe (“The bed of Tuawe”). According to the legend, a princess named Hine Hukatere had a great love of mountaineering and persuaded her lover Tuawe to climb with her. Tuawe was a less experienced climber than she was, but he loved to accompany her. One day, an avalanche swept Tuawe from the peaks to his death. Hine Hukatere was broken-hearted, and her tears flowed down the mountain. Rangi the Sky Father took pity. He froze them to form the glacier now known as Franz Josef. The glacier now known as Fox Glacier marks Tuawe’s resting place.
The conditions on top of a glacier can be trying for a mechanical timepiece. To get up to Fox Glacier, you need to take a helicopter. This is because it has receded so much since even the mid-2000s. When you reach a safe spot to land on the glacier, you’re greeted by the sheer breadth and majesty of the ice formations before you. Trekking carefully, you need to dig staircases into the ice. Even with crampons, the surface of the glacier can prove treacherous. Ice whips up from the vibrations as you dig into it. The equipment you wear can easily mark or scratch a mechanical timepiece too.
Taking the IWC watch on to New Zealand’s West Coast
The ability to handle ocean conditions has always been a key attribute of mechanical timepieces for me. In fact, I find this critical for any adventure, and the IWC I’m wearing for this one is no exception. The screw-down crown and 100m water resistance are reassuring, particularly as I snake my way through New Zealand’s rugged West Coast to enjoy the pristine beaches further north. This quadrant of the coast, north of a town called Greymouth, is like something out of Jurassic Park. One thing those who’ve visited this part of New Zealand will know is that the sandflies are horrendous! Those little buggers practically ate me alive, despite me having used a lot of repellant.
What greeted me on this journey north was one of the best driving/riding roads I have ever experienced, with the jungle reaching almost right down to the sea. Large and dramatic sea cliffs plunge into the ocean like giant daggers. For those of you curious about visiting this part of the world, I heartily recommend checking out Hokitika and Punakaiki.
At Hokitika, I’m greeted by the immense array of wooden structures that locals have built on the beach. It is like being in an alien wooden world. The sunsets punch through under clouds and highlight the rich textures of these haphazard constructions. At Punakaiki, the beaches are simply wondrous. This is a surfing country, and the locals are extremely adept at navigating the powerful swells.
Concluding thoughts
There were so many more components to this adventure, but these were the highlights I shared with the IWC RAAF watch. Sometimes it’s good to have a mechanical timepiece companion that just gets out of the way and does the job on a solo adventure. This IWC watch was perfect for this and was highly legible, even in high-glare situations. Of course, a less expensive/exclusive watch could have accompanied me just as well. After all, the best watch is the one on your wrist during your adventure, whatever it may be.
Adventure truly is an antidote to the disruptions, complexities, and disappointments that life can sometimes throw your way. Do you have any upcoming adventures you’d like to tell me about, dear Fratelli? I’m looking forward to reading about them in the comments. Oh, and what watch will you be taking?
