Most people wouldn’t call a two-week tramping holiday on Stewart Island with a 3 and 5 year old a walk in the park. And at times, it wasn’t but it was fantastic.
In 2023, Tyrell’s parents were travelling around the South Island in a campervan and mentioned heading to the island. It had always been high on our list, so we invited ourselves along.
The plan was simple. We would fly into the west coast, land at Mason Bay on low tide, then walk east to Freshwater Hut. From there, a water taxi to Oban, a few days exploring, and finally the Rakiura Track. There were some big days in there for little legs, but we thought they were up to the challenge.
Preparing for the journey
That summer, we “trained”, not by walking huge distances, but by making walking fun and part of everyday life. We’d walk or bike instead of driving whenever we could. I’d pack a bag in the morning with togs, towels, snorkels and snacks, and we’d head out, often not coming home until the end of the day. We built the habit slowly meandering along tracks, visiting friends, and playing at the beach until walking just became part of normal life. Having a dog helped, and boys that loved being outside.
This is me and Felix, getting ready for two weeks exploring Stewart Island on foot. He was 3 (just), and Jonty was 5 and a half.
The beginning — Mason Bay
We began on the west coast, landing on Mason Bay with everything we needed for the first stretch of the journey. That moment stepping off the plane onto the sand marked the beginning of the walk, and later became the first painting in the collection, tracing our journey from west to east across Rakiura. It was quite a surreal feeling watching the plane disappear into the distance and to be left standing in the middle of a beach that stretched miles in each direction.
The sandhill
One of the highlights for me was climbing the sand dune behind Mason Bay Hut. A deep, brooding purple sky gathered overhead, while late afternoon light lit up the sand, harakeke and grasses beneath it. We were all in awe of the scale and isolation of the dunes, and the small treasures we found along the way.
From the top, the view opened out to the east — where our walk would take us the following day.
The long day
The longest, most challenging day of the walk was from Mason Bay Hut to Freshwater Hut, 15km of changing terrain: grassland, swamp, and rickety boardwalks.
We weren’t sure how much Felix could manage on his own, and carrying him on top of a pack proved far more uncomfortable than I’d expected. But he surprised all of us, walking almost the entire distance.
Tyrell ran ahead a few times, dropped his pack, then doubled back expecting to find us resting. Each time, he was surprised to find us still moving and not far behind.
Even more impressive was Jonty. His awareness and empathy for his brother made us incredibly proud. He encouraged Felix in a way none of us could, turning the walk into a game and keeping things light when it mattered most. At one point, he handed Felix a stick to match his own and said,
“Felix! You’re like the golden ninja! You never give up!”
And away they went, caught up in their own world. Near the end of the day, Jonty asked me to carry his bag. I was about to tell him how close we were to finishing, when he said,
“Mum, it’s so I can carry Felix across the muddy hard bits.”
The reality of it
If you’ve seen the images and videos from this trip, it probably looks idyllic, the beaches, light, kids walking along tracks, the feeling of freedom and being outdoors together. And all of that is true. But it wasn’t always easy. There were long days, tired legs, and moments where everything felt harder than we expected. Times when the kids didn’t want to keep going, or didn’t want to go to sleep in a busy hut. We were exhausted, not just physically, but from constantly thinking ahead and anticipating what everyone needed.
Parenting doesn’t pause just because you’re somewhere beautiful. If anything, it becomes more intense. But the good wasn’t just in the highlights, it was in the rhythm we found, the way the boys rose to the challenge, and the moments in between when everything clicked. It wasn’t perfect. But it was absolutely worth it.
Small moments
There were bumblebees everywhere. One afternoon, Felix was stung. His little hands swelled up so much he couldn’t bend them, and for the rest of the trip he was known as “sausage fingers”. The next day, I was stung too. I hadn’t seen the bee land on my boot, and when I stepped forward it was pressed into my leg. Felix immediately switched into first aid mode.
“Mum, give me the first aid kit.”
“You need rescue remedy. I’ll put the cream on.”
He was all business, checking in on me for the rest of the afternoon.
I’d been warned about the mud on the Rakiura Track and quietly dreaded the kids getting stuck and needing to be carried. But it wasn’t as bad as I’d imagined. The boys skipped and slid their way through most of it, and the constant ups and downs kept everyone moving at a similar pace. It became easier to walk together as a group with the terrain levelling things out between us.
The kiwi
We were all hoping to see a kiwi. The first night, we wandered quietly along the track at dusk until it got dark. On the way back to the hut, Katrina and George glimpsed one. I was a way behind with Felix asleep on my back. The next sighting was by a campsite long drop. Again, I missed it. Another night, Tyrell sat out in the bush and waited patiently. He was rewarded with a kiwi wandering through the undergrowth within arm’s reach. I was fast asleep in the tent.
On our final nights, we camped behind the hostel as everything was full. We were exhausted, the boys already asleep, and I was ready for an early night. Just as I was about to crawl into the tent, a kiwi stepped out of the bush a few metres away. It seemed completely unconcerned, spending the next hour slowly foraging along the edge of the campsite.
The eastern coast
Our island adventure finished with three days camping in Oban and exploring the surrounding coastline. We followed tracks through lush forest, up and over hills, catching glimpses of coastline that felt like it belonged somewhere tropical rather than on our southern shores. We stopped for lunch on beaches halfway through the day, and I took the opportunity to go for a snorkel. It’s as interesting and colourful below the surface as it is above.
After the journey
It’s been a pleasure to return to this trip over the past summer and turn these moments into a series of paintings. Each piece comes from a specific part of the journey, the big landscapes, the small details, and everything in between.
This series, A Walk in the Park, traces this journey from west to east across Rakiura.
