I leave the North Island. The ferry hits a rough sea. Well, it is actually the other way round. Sea sickness grabs my stomach. I stay on deck, use the steady horizon and the fresh air as remedy. Then we enter the calm waters of the Marlborough Sounds.

Past the rock sentinels …

… the ship glides along barren hills …

… and an occasional house by the beach …

… deeper inland.

The engines vibrate the deck …

… that shines brightly in the southern sun.

The evidence of human endeavours …

… finds its way to the global network.

The hills come closer, …

… as do the boats: Big boats, …

… small boats …

… and boats that look like submarines.

I land in Southland.