March 7: Ferrying south

In the cool darkness of pre-rush hour, we cycle along downtown Wellington streets to the Bluebridge Ferry terminal and park in the waiting lounge as young-ens with backpacks filter in and cars and trucks are loaded onto an enormous ferryboat. This morning we'll cross the infamously rough Cook Strait, separating New Zealands North and South Islands. We are "patched" with Scop-transderm anti-nausea drugs, with dramamine backup.

Steaming out of Wellington's protected harbor in the grey dinge of early morn, we hit rough swells (we are told that today will not be "bad") and softy-Gary heads for a recliner chair and promptly passes out for an hour. Upon wakening again (in Downunder land?) the sky is blue, the sun beams and we are within the calm waters of the long fjord ending at Picton.

The air is still cool at lunch and the 19 miles to Blenheim cycle by quickly.