How to fix the overcrowding issue at Milford Sound/Piopiotahi has been the focus of intense discussion for more than four decades. Even in the early 1980s, the influx of visitors during the peak summer months seemed unbearable. Back then, the annual numbers edged over 200,000 a year. In 2003, this writer wrote for the Listener about the proposal to lower a barrier arm across the road when Milford reached capacity – by then, about 450,000 a year. In 2019, pre-Covid, visitor numbers reached 870,000. Operators are preparing for a similar influx this summer, more than 6000 people on a typically busy summer’s day.
We’ve heard or endured the horror stories – the nose-to-tail and overtaking traffic on State Highway 94 (Milford Road), the chaos in the carparks, the queues to buy a lukewarm pie or board a vessel, even the boats queueing to take their place in front of Stirling Falls for passengers to snap selfies. And then there’s the force of nature – avalanches closing the road, or floods and cascading debris doing far worse.
Talks begin, talks ebb, the cycle of discussions and proposals have come and gone over four decades with the nor’west storms.
Until now, perhaps. The latest fix-it mission began in 2017 and is gathering political force and momentum. Its official title: the Milford Opportunities Project, with the rather unfortunate anagram of MOP. Six years on, a 1400-page masterplan in place, the question is: will MOP “fix it” this time, and if so, at what financial, legislative and human cost? And what will be the ripple effect on conservation land throughout Aotearoa, for tourism operators and on the intrinsic values and governance of our national parks?
When MOP was established in 2017, it consisted of a working group from local government, iwi, the Department of Conservation (DoC) and the Ministry of Business, Innovation and Employment (MBIE). It was chaired by the forthright ex-Meridian CEO, Keith Turner.
They identified what they considered to be the critical problems and came up with a bird’s-eye rejigging of infrastructure, a list of what to strike out and what to create. Under this masterplan, gone is the staff accommodation currently scattered over the Cleddau River delta, gone is the Milford airport runway, gone are any cruise ships noseying into the fiord “blocking the view”.
Instead, ambitious plans include a new hotel, a new staff accommodation block within yelling distance of the hotel, a modified visitor centre, a massive revegetation plan, another dozen helipads, more walking tracks, even a gondola up to beyond Bowen Falls. On the one road into Milford, there are plans for biking and walking trails in the wide open space of the Eglinton Valley, and the potential for expansion of visitor centres and bus hubs at Knobs Flat.
The plan is accompanied by the bold initiative of slapping an access fee on every non-New Zealander to pay for new infrastructure and boost DoC’s budget for predator control, and the requirement they leave their rental cars in Te Anau and board a bus (ideally zero carbon) for Milford.
Most stakeholders agree the aim to reduce overcrowding is laudable, particularly in the peak summer season and during the crunch point of the day, from 10am-3pm. The priority at the time of writing is closing Milford Road to foreign drivers and instigating the bus service from Te Anau, something most people – especially locals who have had too many near-misses – give the big tick.
There is also widespread support for a greater focus on Ngāi Tahu storytelling, enriching each and every landmark with the potency of pūrākau, the stories of those who came before.
Where the buck stops
The Te Anau business community is mostly supportive of the plan’s focus on making Te Anau the hub and starting point, not Queenstown/Tāhuna, as it currently is for most visitors.
There is the not insignificant issue of who will pay for all these changes – critics have budgeted the modifications modestly at half a billion dollars, not including legal fees. It might be a while before those foreign tourist ticket prices add up to pay for it all.
And it’s there that the consensus on MOP’s masterplan ends, particularly among those who call Milford Sound/Piopiotahi home.
Commercial reality
Deepwater Basin catches the first sun in early winter, a corner of Milford Sound tourists rarely see, crayfishing boats tucked snugly alongside their respective jetties with a view across the water to the Arthur Valley. Today, a few visitors are lucky to soak up the rays here – nestled into kayaks and launching off the boat ramp into the calm waters. Rosco’s Milford Kayaks is something of an institution here. Rosco Gaudin has owned and managed the business and been part of the Piopiotahi community for more than 34 years, so he’s better qualified than most to comment on the masterplan. “Most of these MOP officials have no sense of commercial reality,” Gaudin says. “It’s going to come down to who’s paying for it. And the cost: building anything in this place will be eye-watering.”
At the end of each day, Gaudin and his kayaking guides retreat to what’s known locally as the “Paddle On Inn” on the Cleddau River delta. Although Te Anau is home, they live (and play) here in Piopiotahi almost full time over the operating season. Bunkrooms are basic portacoms built around an open garden area, a few past-their-use-by-date kayaks bursting with herbs, silver beet and the remnants of kale. Central to the complex is a warm, sandfly-proof communal living area, sunken couches a comfort, walls smothered in pinboards with the usual collage of photographs – the history of this community growing into the walls. “That’s what’s missing from the so-called masterplan – community,” says Gaudin. “These plans are all about buildings, structures, boats, gondolas. But it’s people who run this place.”
One cornerstone of the masterplan is to move the Cleddau River “inn” and the majority of other businesses’ staff accommodation – including employees of tourism operator RealNZ, air traffic controllers and personnel of Milford Sound Tourism (which manages the main wharf, terminal, toilets, parking, sewerage) – well away from this area.
Staff would instead reside together in a newly built, four-storey earthquake-proof apartment building behind the main hotel. Gaudin shakes his head in horror. “It’ll be a death knell for Milford. The staff turnover will be horrific. You’ll have overseas tourists paying megabucks a night in the new hotel a stone’s throw away, so it’ll be stereos off and no socialising. We’ll be living in the equivalent of a prison block.”
The masterplan recommends not only removing the staff accommodation but also the airport, whose runway currently bisecting the available flat land. MOP’s reasoning? The vision is to instead infill the area with native revegetation and walking tracks.
Keith Turner, interviewed in 2022, insisted, “It’s about all enhancing the visitor experience.”
It’s also, according to MOP, all about safety issues. The big one – quite literally – is the geologically imminent rupture of the Alpine Fault, at a magnitude of eight on the Richter Scale (AF8). Should it happen at night, when everyone’s tucked up in their beds, the geotechnical engineers suggest the staff would be much safer from the seismic shake and more especially from the likely tsunami that would engulf the village if they were in a high-rise, earthquake-resistant apartment block.
The masterplan’s artists have suggested “emergency pods” at critical junctures throughout the area in case AF8 hits during the day. Most long-term residents scoff at the idea, wondering how anyone could close the door on the hundreds trying to cram into these diminutive, aesthetically designed retreats (“nodes”) within the few minutes between shake and incoming tide.
Gaudin is ever pragmatic. “When AF8 hits, we’d have a better chance if we grabbed a life-jacket and took our chances being swept up the valley until the water subsides.” Another long-time local, Tony Wheeler, operations manager for Milford Sound Tourism, agrees. “We’d rather just accept the risk of AF8 and stay where we are. Whichever gods you’ve got up your sleeve could be useful. To be honest, the risk is way higher just driving to work every few days along the Milford Road.”
Flight risk
Arguably, the greatest pain from the masterplan is being felt by the fixed-wing aircraft operators, as Milford Sound is the biggest drawcard and earner for each aviation business. Among the many reasons cited for the runway closure is that only 5% of visitors travel by aeroplane. “But that’s at least 5% of people off the road,” says pilot Antony Sproull of Air Milford.
Young, newly married, Sproull is set to take over Air Milford from his father, the legendary Hank Sproull. “It should be an exciting time for us,” says Antony, “but instead, the fears, the insecurities, are mounting.” Without Milford as a destination, they would struggle to have a viable business.
In the Air Milford hangar is more history, including the grainy image of a Cessna 185 on the Milford Track’s Quinton airstrip (now grown over), and images of Hank’s early years with Mount Cook Airline before taking over Air Milford 25 years ago. “We’ve just come out of the worst time in operating history, trying to the keep the company afloat through Covid,” says Antony Sproull. “That was straight after we’d made massive investments in new aircraft.”
The new 12-seater Cessna Caravans sit outside the Queenstown hangar, each aircraft costing more than US$3 million, bought to ensure quieter, more-efficient flying. “The carbon footprint of these aircraft per passenger is less than half that for a helicopter,” says Sproull. And aircraft carry three times as many passengers as helicopters into Milford. “It’s also a third of the price. Most Kiwis can’t afford to fly by helicopter.”
One of the so-called “key concepts” of the masterplan is sustainability, to “adopt zero-carbon technology”. Which is where most aviators raise an eyebrow, knowing fixed-wing aircraft will get there well before rotary or helicopters. “Low-carbon technology is already here,” says Sproull, pointing out the latest hybrid Cessna Caravan on the market. “Zero carbon, fully electric or hydrogen aircraft – they’re just five to 10 years away.”
The concern for these operators is that no matter what they say, they won’t be heard. MOP director, Chris Goddard, rejects this, insisting everyone’s feedback will be listened to and noted. “The masterplan is not a fait accompli. It’s a series of recommendations. Our job now is to test the feasibility and practicality of each element.”
Keith Turner stood down from his role as chair last year and Goddard was appointed director of the new MOP taskforce. With a background in the Australian mining industry, Goddard is said to be adept at navigating between government and business. He’s also personable and presents an amicable and open forum, putting a huge emphasis on community liaison, getting feedback on every element of the masterplan.
He refers to cabinet papers: “… no decisions have been made on the masterplan’s recommendations, and [stakeholders’] feedback will help inform the feasibility assessment”. The team and board members have met residents, tourism operators and the aviation and business sectors in the past year. Goddard says transparency is key. “Although we don’t attribute it to individuals, we post every bit of feedback on the website.”
Next-level complexity
The government committed just over $3 million to the first and second stage of MOP, culminating in the 2021 masterplan. This third “feasibility” stage is now being government funded to the tune of $15 million. “We need to emphasise that the prime purpose of the masterplan is an opportunity to think about visitation differently for Piopiotahi and the Milford corridor,” says Goddard. “It’s a test case, but it is also meant to be transformative, which is why it’s so complex.”
By “test case”, Goddard is referencing the strong wording in the masterplan that the project has the potential to be “precedent-setting”. Whatever transpires here could have significant flow-on effects for managing tourism in places such as Āoraki/Mt Cook, Franz Josef or the Tongariro Crossing.
What he’s referring to is not about whether a runway goes or stays, but a next level of complexity that challenges the laws and public expectations surrounding our national parks. It is particularly difficult because the governance of Piopiotahi involves a convoluted tapestry of bureaucracies and organisations.
There’s the road – administered by Waka Kotahi NZ Transport Agency, the runway – on DoC land but controlled by the Ministry of Transport – and where the land meets the water the marine jurisdiction (including collecting fees from cruise ships) comes under the auspices of Environment Southland, a regional council, with advice and guidance from the Guardians of Fiordland.
DoC is forever overwhelmed and budget-constrained (the birdsong is hardly deafening in Piopiotahi). The Southland Conservation Board has so far given a decidedly mixed response to intiatives in the masterplan. There’s also MBIE throwing its tourism hat in the ring, and then there’s iwi – no fewer than seven rūnanga of Ngāi Tahu with mana whenua across the entirety of Fiordland/Te Rua o te Moko.
One option being discussed is to create an entirely new statutory body, an organisation that could take on a number of governance roles in Piopiotahi – for example, the responsibilities of conservation, transport and even the marine environment out to the Tasman Sea.
Goddard has his work cut out for him, but he is well supported by an advisory board and a taskforce focusing on the nuts and bolts of the plan. One critical unit member is lawyer Silke Radde, a self-described “policy wonk”, working on the legislative implications. Piopiotahi is wedged into a corner of Fiordland National Park, so anything that takes place here must abide by the Conservation Act and the National Parks Act.
Section 4 of the National Parks Act, for example, includes the simple phrase, “The public shall have freedom of entry and access to the parks.” Whether that clause precludes non-New Zealanders having to pay a fee, or if they can be forced to leave their rental car in Te Anau, is yet to be determined.
The Transport Act may well present an even tougher constraint. “The current transport legislation does not permit us to toll a state highway when there isn’t another way to get there,” says Goddard. Radde and her team will present various options to the incoming ministers of conservation, tourism and transport to determine whether MOP’s plans are achievable under existing laws or legislation is needed. The options are still being discussed.
Goddard says they can’t tackle every element at once but are focusing on the big three: managing access, an international visitor charge and “precedent-setting changes to governance and concessions management”.
Concessions delay
Which is where everyone is feeling the pain. The greatest frustration for those who live and/or work in Piopiotahi are those concessions – a licence to operate in the national park, with a fee payable to DoC. Most concessions in Piopiotahi have stagnated. Pleas to DoC for the security of a roll-over of an operator’s 10-, 20- or 30-year concession have gone unanswered. Air Milford’s concession applications have been delayed time and again. Gaudin is in the same kayak, refusing even to discuss the issue, mumbling expletives under his breath.
Roger Wilson is chair of Milford Sound Tourism. With the terminal, main wharf, parking, toilets and sewerage in its remit, it pretty much runs the place. Wilson has been involved with the area for more than 40 years and is apoplectic.
“With no rollover of concession we have no security of tenure. We can’t invest, can’t get a bank loan, can’t upgrade, we can’t guarantee anyone’s going to have a job in six months’ time. There’s a several-thousand-dollar investment required to upgrade the sewerage system at Knobs Flat. That’s a huge risk if the concession is not going to be renewed.”
But is this MOP’s fault? Goddard is firm on his response. “Concessions are the responsibility of the Department of Conservation. And DoC cannot use MOP’s existence to approve or not approve a concession.”
Cat Wilson, DoC’s director for heritage and visitors, acknowledges its responsibility, but defends the delays. “Many of the current concession applications are complex,” she says. “These processes are not impacted by the Milford Opportunities Project.”
One question, however, that the masterplan asks: should a separate entity – “a dedicated business unit” – be created and mandated to manage these concessions? If not the obviously overstretched DoC, then who or what? And is this the reason DoC is stalling, hoping some other statutory body could please take over this behemoth of a job?
No, says Wilson. “Feasibility testing does not affect the current governance of the site [including concessions] nor the role of DoC in taking regulatory decisions as required by the legislation.”
There’s another reason, however, that DoC might be hedging on granting concessions. In 2018, the Supreme Court ruled in favour of Ngāi Tai ki Tāmaki in the Hauraki Gulf, when the iwi challenged DoC’s granting tour concessions on Rangitoto and Motutapu islands. The ruling referred to section 4 of the Conservation Act: “This Act shall so be interpreted and administered as to give effect to the principles of the Treaty of Waitangi.”
The ruling strongly implied there should be a preference in favour of iwi in the concession process. “The findings of the Supreme Court in the Ngāi Tai ki Tāmaki judgment are important for all of DoC’s mahi, not just concession opportunities at Milford Sound/Piopiotahi,” says Wilson.
In effect, then, no one is any the wiser and there is no endpoint in sight for the renewal of operators’ concession applications. Goddard has no knowledge of any concessions being contested by iwi, but suggests, “If we succeed in slowing people down, spreading the numbers across the day, and along the Milford corridor, there’ll be many more tourism opportunities for Ngāi Tahu to be part of Piopiotahi, and to lead the way telling Ngāi Tahu stories.”
So, when will this all be decided? MOP is due to present all options and recommendations to the various ministers in mid-2024. If the somewhat glacial progress since the early 1980s is anything to go by, it might be a little later. Then, of course, decisions will be discussed or debated in cabinet. For however long.
The concluding lines in the Listener’s 2003 story questioned what would come first: avalanche, deluge, earthquake or the answer to how to fix Milford. Today, we can add a few more disruptions to that list – global pandemics, sea level rise and the intractable issue of the carbon footprint of long-haul flights and sustainability of international tourism. By the time Piopiotahi is all “fixed”, will there still be anyone coming to visit?