The Port is actually quite small in area but has numerous small anchorages with good shore tie ups all in place. The most well known is Disappointment Cove and we enjoyed the comforts of this hidey hole, anchoring in about 4m of water at low tide, completely surrounded by small rocky islands. The bay had a resident sea lion which frolicked under our dinghy. She had remarkably long sharp teeth and I was concerned about her enthusiasm resulting in a punctured RIB. We did the short muddy walk over to Broad Bay on the Southern Ocean side to examine sea lion tracks in the sand. Quite big ones, leading up to a lair in the bush, to which we did not venture. The males are said to be aggressive and surprisingly nimble on land. One is told to make oneself look big and avoid eye contact if confronted. Hmmm. We harvested mussels from the rocks for an entrée and waited out the rain. Across the South Arm is Evening Cove which gives access to a walking track up to some wild granite peaks. “Track” is perhaps overstating it, for at times we were on all fours tunneling through the low, unforgiving bush and scrub of the alpine tundra. Andrea and I emerged onto the hugely elevated 140 m high summit of rock sculptures and feasted on the view over the Port as well as to Gog, Magog, and the Scotsman across the valley. Diomedea toured the Port in a strong westerly before anchoring near Twilight Cove in the North Arm. We saw two other yachts, and one gin palace in the Port. The nights and mornings were very cold with the Webasto heater doing good service. Washing and drying clothes proved virtually impossible, even on the tiny clothes rack under our saloon table. And we wore lots of clothing â€�" multiple layers of thermals, polypropylene mid weight tops, Windstopper jackets, fleece pants, neck muffs, helmets, various glove combos, all covered up by the Musto Stretch Goretex Ocean wet weather gear. For land trips we used increasingly disgusting bushwalking attire. We always carried a backpack with first aid kit, water, raingear, a VHF radio and a hand held Garmin GPS loaded with topographic maps. This gadget proved its worth on a number of occasions, enabling us to find our way home. In this region, you are absolutely on your own. However, our minds were turning toward the prospect of the 1100nm trip back to Opua. The days were a lot shorter with the “sun” reportedly not up until 730am and setting at 8pm. Sun-related events were actually remarkably rare as the skies remained relentlessly grey and dreary. So with the forecast of all sorts of northerlies coming in we made the decision to quit Port Pegasus and begin the trek up the east coast of NZ. It was with mixed emotions that we watched the Port and then later Stewart Island fade into the murk but to some extent we had become sick of the grey gloom of these parts. Independently, we have been told that this was the worst summer in 10 years in Otago/Southland, with no “summer” to speak of and a looming trough in honey output. So buy up all the clover honey now before the price goes stratospheric.