Back on the move again: by train on a twisting track, where precipitious mountains run down into the ocean, from Christchurch north to Picton (retracing my own drive eighteen months ago 'mid snow and ice as far as Blenheim); then east and a little south by ferry to Wellington, capital of New Zealand, crossing to the North Island.
Pray for the poor souls lost on the Wahine, back in 1968: so stormy the day, the ferry sank in Wellington harbour within sight of land yet out of range of all help – I do hope Cook Strait doesn't live up to its murderous reputation as a very nasty stretch of water. "For those in peril on the sea" indeed!
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