Mārahau sits at the southern end of the Abel Tasman Coast Track. It is a small settlement, its houses scattered along the road and tidal flats. Most people arrive carrying a pack, waiting for a boat, or preparing to enter the national park on foot.

Our first day began with a water taxi.

The passengers were already seated before the boat reached the water. A tractor towed us along the road, past the houses and down onto the wet flats. When its wheels entered the sea, the tractor stopped and the boat’s engine came to life.

The same boat was first towed along a road. Only when it reached the water did it become a boat.

After leaving Mārahau, wind poured in from both sides. The water taxi travelled north along the coast as headland after headland slipped behind us. Forest grew to the edge of the rock, and the water changed colour from bay to bay. Every so often a beach appeared beneath the hills, with no road leading to it.

We were bound for Bark Bay.

The water taxi put us ashore, then quickly left with other passengers. Once the engine had faded, the beach became quiet again. A track sign stood at the forest entrance: Anchorage to the south, Awaroa farther north.

We turned south.

There are two ways from Bark Bay to Anchorage. At low tide, walkers can cross the inlet at Rākauroa / Torrent Bay. When the tide is wrong, the track makes a longer circuit around the estuary. We took the high-tide route.

The water taxi would collect us from Anchorage at 3:30 that afternoon. We did not want to miss it, and added no side trips. The turn-off to Cascade Falls remained on the sign. We kept walking south.

The track soon entered coastal forest. Tree ferns leaned from the slopes; the ground was damp in one place and bleached by sun in the next. The sea did not remain beside us. Often we could only hear it, until a bend in the hillside let the water appear again between the trees.

Far below, two people in a kayak moved slowly across the bright water. We watched for a moment from the track, then continued.

The Falls River Suspension Bridge crossed the forested valley. A sign at its entrance said: maximum ten people. The river below was dark, and the deck shifted gently beneath each step. We reached the far side and did not turn towards the falls.

Beyond the bridge, the track continued to rise and fall between hillside and coast. Through gaps in the trees, the afternoon sea sometimes turned almost white; around the next bend, it became blue-green again.

Then Rākauroa / Torrent Bay opened in full below us.

The sea reached between the hills, crossed by a pale sandspit. Nearer water was clear blue-green and deepened with distance. Tidal flats, houses and boats at the shore had all become small. We had already walked a long way, yet the bay seemed to open the entire coast all over again.

At low tide, walkers can cross the Torrent Bay estuary directly. We did not descend to the flats. We went back into the trees and followed the high-tide track around the bay. For a while the sea disappeared, leaving only the path beneath our feet.

We began checking the time more often.

When we reached Anchorage, the water taxi had not yet arrived. We were early. We put our packs down beside the beach, and at 3:30 the boat approached across the water to collect the day’s final passengers.

The day’s record stopped at 15.94 kilometres and 25,048 steps.

Back in Mārahau, time slowed again. We had dinner at Hooked on Marahau, where the tables look across the road to the tidal flats. The retreating sea left narrow bands of light in the mud, while the distant hills turned dark.

Katherine ordered a local wine; I ordered a beer. At The Vic in Nelson, we had sat down for a drink together for the first time in nearly twenty years. In Mārahau, we did it for the second time.

She kept the glass beside her, ate slowly, and occasionally turned towards the flats.

Before the last light left the sky, the moon rose above the tidal flats with a trace of pink.

The people who had been hurrying for the 3:30 boat were sitting at a table now.