There’s no walk quite like the Abel Tasman Coast Track and despite its popularity, there are plenty of quiet spots to discover, writes Kathy Ombler

“Aqua (water colour). Bellbird. Canuka?” My daughter and I grinned, but had to concede kānuka starts with a K.

We were playing ‘the alphabet game’, you know, find something starting with A, B, C, etc, as we walked from Onetahuti to Bark Bay. She was 10 at the time. Dad and big sister had gone ahead to set up camp and the game was a distraction as we hauled ourselves in the heat up a gentle forested hill that seemed more of a mountain to little legs.

There won’t be so many internationals around this year but my bet is this track will still be busy. There is so much going for it, no matter your age or fitness. You can walk long or short days, stop for a swim, send your packs, or yourself, ahead in a water taxi, camp, stay in a hut or a swanky lodge, kayak instead of walk, or as well. I’ve done a bit of all of that over the years, and every visit has been a treat.

The season doesn’t matter. In summer the swimming is great. Did I mention those golden sand beaches? Winter is quieter, with calm, clear days and fewer sandflies, though just as many incorrigible weka since Project Janszoon’s pest control has enabled the re-introduction of these and other species to the park. Guard your scroggin!

Let’s revisit that family walk. We boated from Marahau to Totaranui and over a leisurely three nights walked back. Used to rougher tramping tracks this was a revelation; gentle pathway through regenerating kānuka forest, walk along a golden beach, swim, and repeat. Crossing Awaroa Estuary at low tide was an adventure; splish-splashing through squishy mud. “Watch out for crabs!” Shrieks and giggles got us to our first campsite.

Day two continued in a similar vein. Forest walk, beach walk, swim (one simply cannot walk past Onetahuti Beach without a swim) and another, smaller, estuary to squelch across to reach Bark Bay with its big hut and sheltered clearings for camping and its pretty sandspit. Bark Bay campers these days are entertained by raucous kākā, I’ve been reliably informed. Crossing the track’s tidal estuaries did require forward planning but waiting on a beach with a picnic and swimming to be done while the tide went out, as we did at Torrent Bay, was hardly an issue. (Another option is to venture inland via the track to Cleopatra’s Pool, enjoy a freshwater swim and mossy rockslide, before continuing around the bay to Anchorage.)
There was a sense of ‘civilisation’ around Anchorage, with its sheltered mooring for yachts and the Torrent Bay cribs across the bay. The orca didn’t mind. They cruised in hunting and their stingray quarry fled close to the beach. More shrieks.

For a final day treat, we sent the kids’ packs out by water taxi. They couldn’t stop grinning. Unfettered, they bounced up that hot, dry hill from Anchorage, admired the views, explored the beaches, and celebrated the end of their adventure with Marahau burgers, still legendary today.

Tips from other trips: Kayaking offers a whole different perspective of this coast. I’ve stopped at cute little campsites like Akersten and others inaccessible to walkers, my favourite being Mosquito Bay. I’ve paddled with seals and dolphins. And carried so much stuff!

Don’t miss the top end. Most people explore just from Marahau to Totaranui. North from Totaranui are more golden beaches, coves, headlands, birdlife, delightful campsites – and Separation Point. The hook-shaped headland (its Māori name is Matau, meaning hook) is a stunning spot where, on a later visit, my daughter and I sat watching dolphins playing in the currents.

Last year, I discovered Whariwharangi, the track’s northernmost hut and quite possibly one of the nicest huts anywhere. The two-story, former farm homestead has been carefully restored. A campsite sits in sheltered, landscaped surrounds. The beach is one of the biggest and best in the park, and that’s saying something. Stay here and there’s a good chance you’ll be woken early by korimako/bellbirds. Nothing’s perfect.