The weather looked promising as Randall and I drove south from Picton to Blenheim, early on Sunday morning (November 29th). The rolling hills covered in drought-browned grasses and lush-green, irrigated vineyards reminded us very strongly of Central California around San Luis Obispo, where Randall grew-up. However, by the time that we got to the point where Highway 1 reached the coast at the mouth of the Waima River, just south of Cape Campbell, an ominous bank of clouds had rolled in from the southwest and our potential views of the Inland Kaikoura Range had been lost.

Still, it was a pleasant drive alongside the coastal railway and we pulled into one of the many “freedom-camping” rest-areas to admire a colony of New Zealand fur seals that seemed to be somewhat more energetic at 8 am than the occupants of the surrounding campervans. Arriving an hour later in the seaside town of Kaikoura (population 3,550), there were few signs of activity on this dismal-looking Sunday morning so we drove along the attractive Esplanade to Point Kean on the Kaikoura Peninsula, a prominent headland on the smooth sweep of coast north of Christchurch. The Maori legend that tells of the North Island being fished out of the ocean also explains that Maui used what is now the Kaikoura Peninsula to steady his foot in the canoe (the South Island).

From the sea-level car-park, we followed a trail up onto the headland and, although the low clouds prevented us from admiring the panorama of mountains inland, we had fine views of the massive colony of fur seals and seagull nesting area on the beaches at the base of the steep limestone cliffs. The flat top of the peninsula is the oldest wave-cut platform remaining (from 125,000 years ago) from when the layers of limestone rocks of the region were folded, twisted, and lifted-up, starting about 15 million years ago. Platforms are formed at sea-level when the area is relatively stable between uplifts. Being high-tide, we could see the wide expanse of the newest platform just under the water’s surface but not far out to sea, the floor of the Pacific Ocean drops precipitously for thousands of meters into the Hikurangi Trench.

The currents and upwelling of nutrients associated with this submarine geography, cause this area to be abundant with marine mammals and birds. A whaling station from 1842 until 1922, the town of Kaikoura has now found more popular and sustainable ways to benefitting from the marine wildlife. There are many nature tours offering the promise of seeing whales, dolphins, fur seals, penguins, shearwaters, petrels, and albatrosses. A tour in an area where we had the possibility of seeing and, most importantly, having someone more experienced identifying for us, up to 23 species of seabirds would have been very tempting on a fine day but that would have to wait for another visit.

Interpretive signs informed us that on a clear day it was possible to see the North Island and we wondered how smooth a crossing Andrew and Judith would have later that morning. This coastal visibility, good food supply, suitable vegetation, steep cliffs, and flat top of the Peninsula had made the site an important defensive position for the various waves of Maori tribes who, over several centuries, invaded and occupied this region. Traces could still be seen on the grassy hillsides of where defensive ditches and the terraces of a “stepped Pa” (a descending series of palisade fences), had once been built to hold-off the next invaders.

Resuming our journey southward, after stopping at a supermarket in Cheviot, we took a detour off Highway 1 to eat our lunch by the Cathedral Cliffs. These were intricately weathered limestone cliffs overlooking a narrow river valley rather than, as we had expected, the sea. The thin pinnacles of rock descending away from the clifftop were reminiscent of a mini-version of Bryce Canyon in Utah…or at least the little of that National Park that we could see when we visited it, instead of skiing, only to find it full of clouds.

After driving through another wine-making area around Waipara, we arrived in Christchurch in mid-afternoon. We made a brief stop in the city center but planned to explore it more thoroughly the next morning. Being a Sunday, we wanted to have as much of the evening as possible to spend with my friend, David, who very kindly hosted us for the night at his lovely, wooden, 1920s house in Spreydon, just south of the city center. I had not seen David since 1983 when I finished my BSc degree at the University of Liverpool and we had not kept in touch. However, his tales of his childhood in New Zealand had so enthralled me that when I knew that we were going to visit the country, I had tracked him down on the internet. We had subsequently emailed a few times to arrange a visit during our South Island Tour and it was a very pleasant reunion after more than 30 years.

We were lucky enough to meet David’s charming 19 year-old son, Nicholas, who is an enthusiastic sports psychology/physiology student at the same Christchurch Polytechnic Institute of Technology where David is a senior member of the Information Technology faculty. We were given tours not only of the house in which we were to stay but also of the fenced plot of land that David had recently bought in part of a huge development on a former airfield. He eagerly paced-out the precise plan of the eco-friendly house that he is to have built there and he showed us several houses that have particular features that will be included in his new home.

David’s cooking skills had not diminished in the last 30 years so he generously treated us to a delicious dinner primarily featuring fruits and vegetables from his highly productive garden and a sampling of several excellent local cheeses. Although he had to go to work the next morning, we would still be able to sleep-in a little, which was just as well because we stayed up listening to his stories until much later than our usual bedtime. His most spell-binding account was of his experience of the February 2011 earthquake that so badly damaged the center of Christchurch (where he was working), a devastating natural disaster of which we would learn much more the following day.