It was with mixed feelings that we set sail on the Bluebridge ferry. We were disappointed that we were leaving North Island; there is so much more to see than we had been able to fit into the time. However, South Island was going to offer us more exciting experiences.
Looking back at Wellington as our ferry drew further away, you realise just how small the city is. The Central Business District of high rise offices only covers a small area but has a backdrop of native bush as the land rises up from the coast. There is more to Wellington that its CBD; it has sprawling suburbs that follow the Hutt Valley heading north. The coastal development fills in bays between headlands, and some lucky people have prominent properties on those headlands with outstanding views that you could never tire of.
Leaving the sheltered waters behind, we headed out into the Cook Strait, where two waters meet and provide a bit of choppiness, even on a calm day. When the weather is really bad, it must be such an exciting crossing. I remember thinking, “Did I apply the handbrake?” Looking down on to the car deck I could see our car and it hadn’t moved. Relax. Enjoy the scenery.
As you approach South Island it is almost impossible to see the entrance into the Marlborough Sound. Gradually you realise you are not going to run aground, that there is a channel of water we are aiming for. Once in the sound the water is flat and a beautiful turquoise blue. On either side the bush rises from the shore line. Small water taxis pass us as they take tourists to remote tracks for a walk, or pick up people who live in remote houses overlooking the water, to Picton for supplies. Fishermen bob up and down in our wake in their minute craft, and cormorants sit on the fences around salmon farms in the hope of finding an easy meal.
It takes almost ninety minutes to travel up the sound to Picton. At the quay the ferry is deftly turned around in very limited space and we are soon disembarking. From the ferry we drove through Picton along State Highway 1 to a small airfield a few miles south, belonging to Pelorus Air. Having seen Marlborough Sound from the ferry, I had arranged for us to now see it, and all the other sounds, from the air.
We met Johnny, our pilot, who seemed remarkably young. We hoped he was also competent. Having assessed our weights, we boarded the six-seater Cesna 206. We took off and flew over Picton before heading north west over Kenapura Sound and Pelorus Sound. We looked down on to perfect blue waters and untouched bush. The coastline was so varied with many little coves, inlets and headlands. The route took us to the outer limits of the sounds before turning SE. We began to lose height as we approached an inlet 
called Port Gore. Soon we could see the reason why; there was a grass airstrip rising up from the beach. Johnny brought the plane in smoothly and landed before turning the plane round at the top of the runway and taking us back down to the beach. As we disembarked, a large black and tan dog greeted us, stood at the water’s edge, hoping we would throw stones for it. Tucked away behind some trees was a house and two 
people emerged from it to join us. It was Cliff, the owner of Perorus Air, and his wife, who have lived in this remote spot since the early 1980s. Cliff used to be a commercial airline pilot but now runs this small company, largely for pleasure. No other house could be seen from where we stood, and, with a good, sweeping beach, it was the most perfect of places to be. To live here might be a bit lonely and to go anywhere by car is a bit of a mission. Cliff did have a plane tucked away in a hanger beside his house.
Port Gore is also the scene of a modern New Zealand maritime disaster. On 16th February 1986, the 20,000 ton Russian cruise ship, MS Mikhail Lermontov, left Picton with, mostly aged Australian passengers on board. The ship was being piloted out of Picton but the pilot, wishing to give the passengers a close look at the beautiful coastline, hugged it as he guided the ship out. As they reached the outer limits of Marlborough Sound the ship needed to round Cape Jackson. However, the pilot decided to take it through a passage of clear water between the mainland and Cape Jackson, assuring the Russian captain that it was safe. It was not safe, and the ship scraped a 5.5m gash below the water line. The cruise ship limped into Port Gore, listing heavily. All the passengers were rescued by passing ships, along with most of the crew. The ship was run aground in the bay at Port Gore, in the hope that, at high tide, they could manoeuvre it further up the beach. Unfortunately, it drifted back out into the bay, keeled over and sank on its side in 39m of water. There it remains to this day, with the one fatality, a crew member, who went down with the ship. Now, MS Mikhail Lermontov is a popular dive site. The pilot who guided the ship into the disaster was suspended for two years.
After about half an hour of conversation with Cliff, we climbed back into the aircraft and Johnny took us, at speed, up to the top of the runway. I thought for a moment, with the speed we were travelling, that we were going to take off into the hill. He just needed the speed to get to the top of the hill. The take off was perfect. As we flew over the bay, I would have expected to have been able to see the shape of the cruise ship on its side, but there was nothing to see.
We flew in a more direct line, back over Picton, to the airstrip. What a superb flight and it only cost us £85 each. Great value, and Johnny was a super young pilot.
Driving back into Picton we were able to check into the Picton Yacht Club. If I am honest, I thought I had booked the hotel next door, the Beachcomber. We had a penthouse suite, which was very good with views out across the harbour and marina. At least it was good for four people, not five. So, when I discovered that there was not another room available for Chrissie, I managed to get her an excellent room in the Beachcomber.
We ate at the Beachcomber. I had eaten there last year and Claire Cox announced she had the best Porterhouse steak she had ever eaten, so it had to be tried. It was beautiful and well worth the year long wait. Bizarrely, despite it being the 7th February the Beachcomber dining room was festooned with Christmas decorations! Afterwards we ventured into town where there was live music being played in one of the bars. A good way to end the evening.
The following morning, we gave a little time to exploring Picton a little further, including an excellent breakfast. Picton really is a very beautiful little town. It has everything you could possibly need. There is plenty to do and there always seems to be a lively atmosphere. Not sure it would be the same in the quieter winter months, but I do get the impression that it is a pretty idyllic place to live, particularly as there is a drinking consultancy that you could always escape to.
As introductions go, Picton and the flight over the Marlborough Sounds was the perfect introduction to South Island.
