Field Trip No. 01 - The Last Fiordland

This trip almost didn’t happen.
Which, in hindsight, would’ve been a pretty accurate preview of how the rest of it went.

Field Trip No. 01 for Calvert Supply was never meant to be polished. The idea was simple: take a crew of surfers, hunters, photographers, and one very capable outdoor chef into a place that doesn’t care about content and see what comes back.

Fiordland was the call.

For Sean Riley, it had been sitting unfinished for over a decade. A missed trip. A pile of secondhand stories about raw coastline, heavy weather, and empty waves. When Calvert Supply launched, this was where he wanted to start somewhere honest enough to hold the weight of a brand trying to do things properly.

Enter Warrick Mitchell. Local. Connected. The kind of guy you don’t replace with a Google search. His family’s been tied to Fiordland for generations, which matters in a place like this.

Getting in wasn’t guaranteed.

Queenstown delivered the usual big night, early start, questionable decisions. By the time the crew hit the helicopter hangar, most were running on fumes. The weather wasn’t helping: wind, rain, low cloud. Even the pilots weren’t sold.

Then a window opened.

Gear got thrown together. No ceremony. Just movement.

The flight in was a reminder that Fiordland doesn’t ease you into anything. Wind bouncing off the mountains, the chopper getting knocked around enough to keep everyone quiet. Even Craig Parry who’s seen his fair share looked like he was doing the mental maths on how badly he wanted to be there.

Touchdown came with relief.

Warrick was waiting, calm as ever. For him, this isn’t an experience. It’s home.

That difference sets the tone for everything.

 

No Warm-Up

Fiordland doesn’t do soft openings.

Mountains straight out of the ocean. Bush that fights back. Weather that changes its mind hourly. You either get comfortable being uncomfortable, or you don’t last long.

The Calvert Field Team settled into it quickly.

Boards waxed. Rifles checked. Cameras out. Plans loosely mapped around swell charts, deer movement, and whatever the weather felt like allowing.

This wasn’t a content trip. That was the point.

The Wave

It took a few days, but the swell showed.

Zac Condon found his rhythm early clean lines, a few proper ones, nothing forced. The rest of the crew played their part: a mix of optimism, ageing muscle memory, and later-night video analysis that didn’t quite match the internal highlight reels.

But the session that mattered didn’t involve everyone.

Day four, while most of the crew were inland grinding through bush and mud, Zac and Nick Pearce made a call and headed to one of the points.

When they came back, it was obvious.

No overselling. No big carry-on.

Just that look.

Two guys who’ve surfed all over the world quietly agreeing it might’ve been the best wave of their lives. A perfect right-hand point peeling through the fiord. Glassy. Empty. Dolphins moving through the lineup like they belonged there more than anyone else.

Throw in a rainbow across the mountains for good measure.

One of those sessions that doesn’t need editing.

Everything Else

Back on land, the rest of Field Trip No. 01 kept delivering in less glamorous ways.

Hunting in Fiordland is work. Wet, slow, unpredictable. You hear stags before you see them, and more often than not, the wind shifts just in time to shut it all down.

Still, the crew got it done.

Two deer a stag and a yearling. Processed properly. No waste. Fish from the rivers. Crayfish and pāua from the rocks.

No shortcuts.

One afternoon at Awarua Point, it all came together. Trout over coals. Venison on the fire. A loose circle of tired, slightly broken humans eating as the light dropped out of the sky.

That part felt closer to the point than anything else.

Why It Matters

It’s easy to roll your eyes at “brand trips.”

This wasn’t that.

Field Trip No. 01 was about setting a baseline for Calvert Supply what it actually stands for when no one’s watching. Not curated. Not overthought. Just a group of people in a place that demands something from you.

And Fiordland demands plenty.

It doesn’t care if you score waves. It doesn’t care if you get a shot or land a fish. It’ll shut you down just as quickly as it opens up.

Which is exactly why it works.

Because when something does line up a wave, a meal, a moment it actually means something.

Out

When it came time to leave, the place finally softened.

Clear skies. Still water. The kind of conditions that make you forget how chaotic the entry was.

Helicopters came in, gear got loaded, and just like that, Field Trip No. 01 was done.

With a quiet understanding that the idea worked.

Calvert Supply had its starting point.
Not in a studio or a campaign deck but in a place where nothing’s guaranteed.

A few waves. A couple of deer. Some properly earned meals.

And one session that’ll get brought up forever.

“Remember that time…”Yeah.That was this one.”