Bluff Oysters

I was terrified they’d be the best oysters I’d ever eaten. And they were!

Even nicer than the French Belon oysters enjoyed in Paris – many decades ago, BS, before Sarah. And even nicer than the Kumamotos – that is, the Sea of Cortez version of these Japanese beauties served up with pride by Roberto in LaPaz.  They were my faves. Until now, until these wild Bluff oysters. Smooth, white, plump and creamy, perfect balance of sweet and salty. Seriously yummy.  What an unexpected treat!

I know, not everyone loves oysters. But if you do, these are sinfully delectable. Imagine one of your favourite foods, and then imagine stumbling on a version of it that is so unimaginably good that you never could’ve imagined it!

Unlike every other oyster in the world, lovingly and sustainably raised in commercial oyster farms, or small-batch harvest of coastal beds, these Bluff oysters are wild caught. Pulled from the only-remaining natural deep-water oyster beds in the world – in the cold cold waters of the Foveaux Strait that runs between Bluff on the southern coast of New Zealand and Stewart Island.

We’d spent the night in Bluff at the Bluff Lodge and Backpackers Guest House – well, actually in the van in the parking lot of the Lodge – hoping to catch the next-day ferry over to Stewart Island.

Bluff Lodge is a colourful landmark. In terrible condition – falling apart really, but nobody seems to care. It’s a fun and quirky place. Kay and Atu run the place with exuberant hospitality and the kind of friendliness that’s contagious.

Bluff Lodge is also the end of the road – or the launchpad – for walkers who tackle the Te Araroa, the long-distance trail that spans the length of Aotearoa New Zealand.

The Te Araroa Trail, known as simply the TA, is a long-distance trail that spans the length of of the country – from Cape Reinga at the northern tip of the North Island to Bluff at the southern bluff of the South Island. The TA winds through the incredible diversity of NZ landscapes from sandy beaches to rugged mountain passes, and includes a huge variety of tracks – from steep narrow singletracks to wider and flatter forested pathways to urban streets.

You can pick a TA section anywhere in the country for a day walk or for a week-long camping and tramping experience. But through-walkers, as they’re called, set out to walk from tip-to-tip on an adventure that takes 5 months to complete – usually done SOBO (southbound), but sometimes NOBO (northbound). Walkers come from all over the world to walk the TA.

Stewart Island is a national park and wildlife preserve. It’s a place of breathtaking beauty, we are told, a place to hike through unspoiled wilderness, including predator-free out-islands, and a chance to see NZ wildlife up close.

In Aotearoa NZ, “wildlife” usually means birds, indigenous birds. Many of them flightless – flightless indigenous birds. And many of them endangered – or formerly endangered and now recovering thanks to herculean preservation efforts on the part of Aotearoa NZ government and people.

There are really only three groups of land animals in NZ. Indigenous wildlife, aka birds. Livestock, aka sheep and cows. And foreign introduced predators, aka possum, rats, stoat, and the like. New Zealand is a very remote place and, with the exception of a tiny bat, New Zealand has no native land mammals, none. And with no predators to eat them, many NZ birds never learned to fly – or else they forgot.

Indigenous wildlife, mostly birds, are protected in NZ – like nowhere else in the world, I dare say.

Livestock are contained and managed. Venison or lamb in a fenced-in pasture is one thing. Roaming deer or goats – the damage they can inflict on indeigenous species – are something else entirely unwelcome, and they are targeted for elimination by hunting or otherwise.

And invasive predators – well, good luck to ya’. Traps and poison are everywhere – the ultimate goal being to exterminate all alien vermin that were originally brought to NZ on European ships, intentionally or otherwise. Even dogs and cats are widely unwelcome at campsites and on walking tracks throughout the country – either because they could be harmed by the ever-present network of traps and poison, or because they themselves pose a threat to indigenous wildlife, especially flightless birds.

Wallabies, introduced from Australia in the 1800s, are another kind of unwelcome pest in NZ. As herbivores, they don’t pose a direct threat to indigenous wildlife, but they are nonetheless reviled for the damage they do to habitat, forests and farmland. Among the most voracious and most successful, I’m sorry to report, is the Bennett wallaby. The national campaign to eradicate wallabies is underway but still in its early stages. We don’t see wallaby traps everywhere. Most notable are the huge billboards in certain parts of the country asking “Seen a Wallaby? Report it!”

But I digress … back to Bluff and our planned visit to Stewart Island.

Come morning, the cold rainy weather put a damper on our plan. Five hundred dollars for the crossing, on what Kiwis affectionately refer to as the “vomit vessel” – I guess the Foveaux Strait is quite challenging – seemed like a steep price to pay to tramp around in single digits in the rain on a mostly undeveloped island in NZ, no matter how beautiful. According to the MetService, we’d be socked in for the next several days, so we made the reluctant decision to pack up and head out and onward toward Dunedin.

But then serendipity stepped in. It was March 1, first day of the annual harvest season for world-famous Bluff oysters.  Oh sure, I thought, as if anything in this town-time-forgot could possibly be world famous.

Still, we were intrigued by the excited chatter we overheard amongst the locals. It seemed the oyster boats had got out in the morning, in spite of the weather, to everyone’s great relief. 

Then we happened into Hayz at the Anchorage for lunch before setting out – what a find – and that’s where we sampled some of the local delicacies – paua wontons, muttonbird pate, and greenbone fish and chips.

There at the Hayz, we met award-winning chef Haylee-Chanel Simeon, a vivacious foodie and home-grown Bluffie. She is passionate about sharing the local foods of her Māori heritage, and she is proud that her national recognition has shed light on Bluff which, as she laments, gets a bad rap.

She lit up when we asked about the oysters. No, none today. But we could get some tomorrow when the boats have unloaded their first day’s harvest. And that’s all it took, we were hooked. Dunedin would have to wait.

We drove 30 kms back on ourselves, to our beachside campsite of the night before – at Monkey Island on the south coast. An exquisite spot and not a big hardship to endure. We circled back to Bluff the next morning for our oyster feast.

Serendipity and eavesdropping, sprinkled with a little curiosity and a bunch of patience. Those were the ingredients that led us to the best oysters ever. A rare treat indeed. Only once for me, I thought, in this lifetime.

But just then, serendipity and patience – no, not patience, tenacity – paid off once again.

On our way to Dunedin, we stopped for the night at yet another beautiful beachside campsite, where we met a couple taking their dog on a beach walk – jumping over the waves that were breaking at the shore – the dog that is, not the people. So Fergie-like, we just had to stop for a chat. As it turned out, the couple lives in Dunedin and, as we raved about the fantastic oysters we had enjoyed in Bluff earlier that day, they immediately told us about the Best Cafe – only place in Dunedin to get Bluff oysters, if indeed there are any are to be had.

Arriving in Dunedin, we headed to the Best Cafe for lunch. Alas, no oysters. But she expected to have some that evening – we should come back after 5:30. So we did, having gotten a bit delayed wandering around, taking in the city – all the while anticipating our second (unexpected) round of Bluff oysters. Alas, when we arrived at 6:30, we were turned away. The restaurant was full to capacity, thanks to the arrival of Bluff oysters, and they just couldn’t handle any more guests. We slumped away.

The next day, after our morning outing and before moving on up the coast, we called the Best Cafe, just on a flyer – and yes, they would be open for lunch and yes, they have Bluff oysters. To be sure this time, we made a reservation and arrived promptly at 1 pm for our second chance at oyster nirvana. The Cafe was full, but there was one table for two, reserved for us. Oh boy, how lucky are we! When she came to take our order – a dozen Bluff oysters, plus a side of six more – she said, oh sorry, we just sold out! Our hearts sank, and we shared with her our woeful tale of striking out 3 times in 2 days on her Bluff oysters.

Many other nice choices on the menu though – so we rolled up our sleeves to make the best of it and ordered some of their (equally famous) blue cod. But minutes later, didn’t she come back to tell us, literally in a hushed whisper, that 18 Bluffs had been reserved but were now available to us if we wanted them. Oh yes! We took all 18 and slurped them back, feeling just a little guilty as other disappointed patrons kept streaming in.