Today’s adventure was an attempt to unravel a 20 year old mystery.
On 13 July, twenty years ago, Margaret Kaye Stewart vanished in the Wainuiomata wilderness. According to online news reports, Mrs Stewart had visited the Catchpool Visitor Centre and asked about a short walk, as she was due to collect her daughter a few hours later. A DOC worker recommended the Ngā Taonga Nature Walk and later saw her parking near the ford by one of the track entrances. Around two hours later, she approached another DOC worker at Hunter’s Bach and asked for directions back to her car. He advised her to walk down a driveway, continue along Coast Road for a few hundred metres to the entrance of Catchpool Valley, then follow Catchpool Valley Road to her vehicle. But she was never seen again.
The search lasted four days and involved over 40 volunteers, helicopters with infrared cameras, search dogs, and police divers. A further four extensive searches took place after that with police college recruits and detectives canvassing hundreds of homes in Wainuiomata. Nothing solid indicated foul play, but it was never ruled out. It’s still unclear how Mrs Stewart ended up at Hunter’s Bach, as there are no obvious tracks linking it to the nature walk.
Today, my goal was to walk the Ngā Taonga Nature Walk and assess spots where someone might have strayed from the track into the surrounding bush. At first glance on Google Maps, the area appeared open enough for a person to wander freely. But switching to 3D view revealed a very different picture. The slope above the track was both steep and elevated. It didn’t look like the kind of terrain a person would likely venture into.
I drove to the Catchpool Valley car park. On the way in, I made a mental note of the ford and spotted an entrance to the nature walk nearby. Wanting to walk the whole track, I parked further in at the main car park to the official entrance, knowing I’d eventually loop back past the ford entrance.
I began the walk and could immediately see the steep, high hill in front of me, draped in regenerating native forest. After crossing Grace’s Stream Bridge, I was soon surrounded by nature. I took photos of trees marked with signposts to help me identify them later. I struggle with tree names.
Eventually, I reached a fork in the track, crossed a small stream via a footbridge, and arrived at what I believed to be the car park near the ford. I took some photos before re-entering the track and continuing along the hillside. So far, there were no obvious ways up the bush-clad hillside. The slope above was just too steep to be easily climbed. It’s unlikely Mrs Stewart would have attempted it.
Further along, I came to a spot where a large rock jutted out from the bank. There, I noticed an easily climbable section. I scrambled up, and at the top found a faint trail likely formed by animals. I followed it uphill. It wasn’t too difficult. As I climbed, the forest I eventually got high enough to see beech trees and a short time later I could see light filtering through the trees above. I soon reached the ridge, where I found remnants of an old forestry track, and over the otherside of the ridge were pine plantations on private property as I could see a fence line.
I followed this track south in the general direction of the Visitor Centre. But the track soon became overgrown with small mānuka trees and gorse, then so dense that I had to crouch in places to follow it. Eventually, I was crawling through some sections that was mostly gorse and thorns. Still, I pushed on, hoping to reach a spur that might lead down near the Visitor Centre. Along the way, I found an old insole. It looked to be about a size 10 or 11, as it roughly matched my tramping boot.
Conditions worsened as the gorse thickened, forcing me to detour onto the hillside above Catchpool Valley. My arms were scratched and lightly bleeding, and I remained wary of wasps. Only a few months ago, I’d been stung over a hundred times after stepping on a nest hidden in similar terrain I was now crawling through. It felt eerily similar, drier, sun-exposed, and filled with flowering gorse.
I pushed on and reached the edge of the spur and intending to descend from there. But it was no better as I headed down, just more gorse, thorns, and dense patches of young, prickly mānuka or kānuka. I decided to turn back, this time taking a slightly different route along the ridge to return, in the hope of avoiding the sections I’d previously had to crawl through. But I ended up crawling again. While crouching under small bushes, I stumbled upon a skeleton, thankfully not human, likely a goat. The skull and vertebrae were scattered among the undergrowth. I assumed wild animals had fed on the carcass which moved the bones and vertebrae into different locations. I kept moving.
I was now searching for a way down into Catchpool Valley, but the hillside remained too steep and hazardous. Eventually, I noticed a small gully filled with tree ferns on a reasonable gradient, a promising sign of a stream, which usually means a safer descent. Almost immediately, I came across a track and followed it northwards, but it only led me back uphill and into more gorse. So I turned and followed it down instead, but it petered out quickly. Oddly, it was a well-cut path, yet it led nowhere. I suppose the rest of the track wasn’t cut into the bank and the bush had reclaimed it over time.
I continued directly downhill from here. The slope was steep in places, and I did slip about one metre down the bank at one point, but managed to stay mostly upright. Nearing the base of hillside, I spotted water glinting through the trees. For a moment, I thought it might be Catchpool Stream, but was a bit confused as according to my calculations, the river was on the other side of the valley. I was right as it turned out to be a small swamp or tarn, perfectly reflecting the forest canopy and sky above.
After navigating this swamp, I emerged into a grassy area. I saw a park bench and the road behind. Just before reaching it, I noticed a discarded rubbish bag dumped in the bush, which was disappointing. I then walked along the road and entered the section of the Ngā Taonga Nature Walk I’d missed earlier, having originally climbed up the hillside instead.
I emerged at the ford entrance to the track and noticed fresh flowers tied to a tree, likely a quiet memorial marking 20 years since Mrs Stewart disappeared. From there, I continued back to my car via Catchpool Valley Road, as I had already covered the track section heading in that direction.
Back at the car, I swapped my boots for sandals and climbed in. My muscles were aching so much I had to physically lift my leg into the vehicle. What I thought would be a lighter walk had turned into a much tougher trek than expected.
So, what do I make of it all? I’ve narrowed it down to two general scenarios, both unlikely, and either could involve foul play.
In the first, Mrs Stewart walked the Ngā Taonga Nature Walk, chose to bushbash up a steep hillside, reached the ridge which may have had a clearer track 20 years ago, and then descended into private land on the other side, eventually ending up at Hunter’s Bach. If so, she either followed the DOC worker’s directions and made her way back to Coast Road and Catchpool Valley Road, where something happened, or she re-entered the bush to return to her car and was hit by a vehicle on the forestry track or suffered a fatal fall on the steep slope. Another option is she returned to the nature walk and decided to complete the section she may have missed (north of the ford), then got lost further into Catchpool Valley where the bush is near endless.
The second possibility is that she completed the Ngā Taonga Nature Walk, returned to Catchpool Valley Road, and then re-entered the bush perhaps via the Tawa Grove Walk, but eventually ending up at Hunter’s Bach whether intentional or by mistake. That would have involved some bush bashing, though likely not as difficult as climbing the slope from the Ngā Taonga Nature Walk. While I’m not certain of Hunter’s Bach’s exact location, I believe it can be accessed from Coast Road, somewhere between 300 and 400 metres from the Catchpool Valley Road turnoff. Regardless of how far the bach is from the road, she could have headed north and got lost in the bush or ultimately met her demise on or near a road shortly afterwards.
Regardless, it would have been incredible to stumble upon a clue or breakthrough in this 20-year-old mystery. But after all this time, I knew the chances were slim to none. Two decades is a long time and I’m certain the bush is far thicker and denser now than it was in 2005.
