The weather couldn’t quite make up its mind whether to be autumn or winter the day we left for Nelson, gateway to the northern tip of New Zealand’s South Island.

The last time I had been in Nelson was to attend the Wearable Arts Festival and I remember meeting the then-Prime Minister Helen Clark, being introduced to bizarre brassieres (not on her) and sitting in a cold tented venue where the wind was blowing rather bizarrely as well.

This time, I was being given a personal tour of his wildlife sanctuary in Marlborough Sounds by Peter Chalmers, a former hedge fund manager who, inspired by nature, decided to invest his money, energy and love into what he calls “natural capital”.

From the wingtip of the Bombardier, I got a glimpse of what would be in store for me the next three days. An ocean so blue it hurts the eye, strings of islands strewn across the sea and stretches and stretches of wilderness as far as the eye can see …

First though we had to stop in Nelson to stock up on food. Peter tells us we are going to an area where we cannot get any provisions so we have to be fully armed. Tell an Asian that and guess what, we needed several trolleys to cart away our haul.

I love shopping in supermarkets in other people’s countries and nowhere more so than in New Zealand where the fruits and vegetables are so fresh, and oh yes, the wines so damn cheap.

Into the boot it all went. We had a two-and-a-half hour drive ahead of us and Peter was anxious we got to our first stop – St Kilda  – before sunset. “We can have wine and cheese at sunset at the end of the jetty,” he promised.

The drive is long and winding. The road hugs the coastline, which weaves in and out like the snake ladder’s game I remember from my childhood. It also goes up and down a lot. So it helps if you have a strong stomach. That said, it’s worth it. The views are spectacular. There’s also an easy one-hour access by sea to the pier.

St Kilda is one of Peter’s properties in the area. They all link up but each has its own individual character. He owns a total of 1,800 hectares or 4,400 acres and this includes one massive headland called Te Kopi (560 hectares), which he’s designated to be a sanctuary for, amongst others, the flightless tahake, an endangered species of bird in New Zealand.

The idea is to develop a tourism and wildlife sanctuary where high-end travellers get an exclusive, immersive experience in an expansive natural environment. You can stay in these properties and have more than 100km of walking and biking treks all to yourself and fellow guests. I’d estimate that even at maximum capacity, it would never feel that there were more than 20 people in the whole area.

To someone living in Singapore – and I’ve sometimes had 20 people in my living room alone – this is a novel idea.

What’s novel too is the feeling you get, sitting at the end of the jetty, sipping wine and eating Kapiti blue cheese, as the sun sets and there’s just the stingray beneath your feet and you. And oh yes, a seal swam in and clapped its fins for me as well.

“I’ve never seen a seal at St Kilda before,”  said Peter. I’ve never seen a seal in the wild before. Period.

From then on, it just got better and better. That night, we lit a fire – the weather finally decided to be winter. While the men did the barbeque, I took care of the stir-fry. Yes, in the great outdoors, gender roles are very clear. Me Tarzan, You Jane.

We are all equal though in the embrace of Mother Nature – humbled and appeased.

In the silence of the Sounds, we had our dinner, looked at Peter’s old maps (he is a collector) and talked about how the environment needed saving from mankind. For dessert, we went out to the jetty, looked at the stars and I was reminded that stars really twinkled and we threw stones into the water to watch the phosphorescence.

That night, I had my best night’s sleep since Dylan died. I dreamt he had come back as the seal to say hello to me.

The next morning, we went for a walk and Peter told us about the birds and the trees. Shags that sometime fall out of the trees rather clumsily and then swoop down to catch a fish very gracefully. Weka, wild chickens, that roam freely about the garden.

We then packed all our food – I think we managed a 10% dent in it the night before – and headed to Bulwer, which is the heart of Marlborough Sounds. We’d actually have neighbours there, Peter said – his manager, James, and family as well as a few residents with second homes in the Sounds.

The plan was we would trek to Bulwer while James took the car and food. The trek reminded me of the one I did in Danum Valley, Sabah, last year except there were no leeches to worry about and it was cool and dry, not hot and humid. Kiwis claim their country is the safest when it comes to wildlife, no nasty insects or creepy crawlies that will sting you, unlike across the ditch in Australia.

The only thing we had to worry about were wild pigs, said Peter. You wouldn’t want to meet them head-on. We didn’t, even after four hours of trekking through the most pristine scenery I’ve ever walked through. Armed with my walking stick, I left like Gandalf leading Frodo and his fellow Hobbits in a scene from “Lord of The Rings”.

Just as the rain was starting and the sun beginning to set, we reached Bulwer. The first thing I did was head to the fire prepared by James. I was cold, wet and hungry. That night, we managed another 10% damage to our food stock. Fresh air and exercise a good sleeping aid maketh, and we slept like shags in their trees.

In the morning, I greeted the resident stingray, chased the wekas and collected shells. Then we went out on a boat towards Te Kopi, the crown jewel in Peter’s estate. Peter has done the basics in making the island pest-free for the tahake but there’s more work yet to be done.

At Te Kopi, I truly appreciate Peter’s work over “a decade of restoring biodiversity and the natural character of the environment”. The Te Kopi Wildlife Sanctuary is named for the 560 hectare headland at the extremity of the outer Pelorus Sound of Marlborough; and it looks out to Cook Strait and Admiralty Bay.

This is nature in sensurround. Pure New Zealand.

I had 15 minutes to myself at the top of Te Kopi – we took turns on the back of James’ quadbike to make the steep ascent – and felt literally on top of the world. Around me were strings of islands strewn across the ocean. The sight that had beckoned me from the Bombardier aircraft was now literally at my feet. Around me only the sounds of birds and the wind.

Here, I listened to Peter’s stories. No need for Google or Wikipedia, here’s one man’s living account of the flora, fauna and culture of the area. Ancient Maori legends mingle with the timeless secrets of nature.

The modern-day tale isn’t as romantic of course. Since the global financial crisis, it’s been hard for Peter to find investors to commit capital to a long term nature tourism vision, but he is still hoping to find the right partner. Natural capital doesn’t yet quite have the same appeal as real estate capital, I suppose. Its time must come.

Peter points to Stephens Island where the tuatara, the oldest line of reptiles on the planet, live. He said he was first inspired to create a sanctuary for the flightless tahake after he visited the Tiritiri Matangi Open Sanctuary, located 30km north-east of Auckland. “I saw the flightless tahake there and thought I should find another special place for them,” he said.

Pointing to the ground we were standing on, he said, “This is it. People in the Department of Conservation tell me that Te Kopi has the most ideal conditions for the tahake.”

From the top of Te Kopi, we did about an hour’s walk to the jetty where James was waiting to take us fishing. I am not a fishing enthusiast and after this outing, I think I will remain so.

Our haul was several blue cod and when James asked us how we wanted them prepared, Peter said instantly, “Battered.”

“That’s sacrilege,” I replied. “It’s fresh, we should have it steamed with soya sauce, ginger, scallions and spring onions.”

Tarzan won though, we had fish and chips, which was, by the way, delicious. Our food haul from Nelson did not include spring onions and scallions anyway, even though we still had pretty much everything else.

That night, I took my iPad out, opened Ghost Radar Classics and we communed with the Maori spirits of this ancient land. And I found myself wishing and hoping that Peter will fulfil his dream of becoming the Birdman of Marlborough – for us and tahake’s sake..

• Photos courtesy of Yeoh Siew Hoon