It must be a vacation, I find I don't know the day or the date...
Picton is a small port city at the top of the South Island, where the ferries to the North Island land and leave from. As such, it is dominated by its railroad yards (they put trained on the ferry too) and backpacker hotels.
Our ship was docked next to the ferry docks... All day ferries arrived, unloaded, loaded, and left... Passengers, cars, trucks, and railroad cars... There are two ferry companies, the Interislander, the New Zealand government boats, and Blue Bridge, the private competitor. The ferries are a mixed lot, at least one an ex-English Channel boat... Only some of the government boats carry trains, the Blue Bridge does not.
We took the free shuttle into town, got off at the town museum (the only stop). The museum was a classic small historical society, with displays of irons, and other house hold goods, and photographs of local families... having an English flair, the Lord Mayor's necklace, a heavy silver badge of office, accompanied by photos of various mayors was found, prominently displayed... What set this museum apart, was its collection of whaling photos and memorabilia... Not just a few wrought iron harpoons and the routine large black iron pot for trying blubber (and would likely serve for missionary stew, if you wanted a stew rather than the locally preferred barbeque, but I digress)... There was an unexpected sadness surrounding the whaling displays... The story was not just the sailing whalers of the early 19th century, but also talked of modern whaling, with harpoon cannons shooting 200 lb explosive projectiles... Which were thoughtfully displayed (both the gun and the projectile)... With photos and diagrams of the processing, which had taken place at shore based processing stations as recently as 1966. I love industrial history, and understand that logging and mining and such, including whaling all came with an environmental cost, and can usually separate the environmental damage from the history... (one professor used to say "the devil got that best lines" when discussing some of the industries, and stories of the past such as mining, industrial fishing, or logging... I have long agreed, loving the tales, but apparently my compartmentalization has a limit, and modern whaling is beyond that limit. ) I found myself staring at displays of old irons, from heat on the stove top to coal heated, to electric... Not particulaly compelling, but preferable to large explosive harpoons. I don't know why, but chasing and killing a whale ( or writing about it) from a wooden boat with a hand harpoon is romantic, while with a steel boat, a steam powered weapon, it is not.
We walked up the main shopping street... It was clearly designed to appeal to tourists, with appropriate shops full of post cards and glass kiwi birds... But also boasted a hardware store, a super market and several real estate offices... It was not cruise ship tourism (not that they didn't welcome us) but instead "backpacker tourism" a local term for low budget tourists, many a bit younger than those aboard our ship, who tour either via camper van, or with a backpack in place of a suitcase. With this being the the southern terminal for the ferries between north and south islands, it was a focus point, with "backpacker" hotels, youth hostels, and pubs dedicated to the trade.
Having explored, and the ladies having successfully shopped (both from our and the local shop keeper's points of view) Karin (aka: dear sister) took the shuttle back, while T and I headed back afoot along the harbor front... I wanted to see the Edwin Fox, an 1850's sailing ship (THE 9th oldest ship in the world) now preserved within its own dedicated museum. The museum was located a great distance away, possibly as much as 100 yards... (Picton being a small place). Tina sat and read while I visited the museum... They have a small building with offices, the book shop and such downstairs, and a first class, well crafted, very well researched museum dedicated to the ship's construction and voyages upstairs. Built in India, her first voyage took her to England loaded with tea, where the ship was sold, and chartered to the British sailing with troops to the Black Sea, and the Crimean War ("Into the valley of death rode the 600") Back with wounded, then converted to a convict ship bound for Australia, later converted to carry settlers to New Zealand where she was later converted to freeze sheep carcasses, then used as a warehouse before being beached, abandoned.
Being well built, much of her wood teak, she did not rot quickly, and being recognized as historic, an effort was launched to preserve her. She now sits in a covered dry dock next to the museum building. The preservationists did the unexpected... They did not try to restore the ship, only stabilized and preserved (and interpreted) what survived... The bare hull, a bit of her copper plating still attached, and a bit of decking mostly at the bow... Visitors get to go aboard, walk the bit of deck, where they have replicas of steerage berths, and a first class bed... And stairs into the hold... You are also allowed to walk down into the dry dock and walk around underneath. They let the artifact speak for itself. I went away, impressed.
Back to the ship... Walking, via the ferry terminal, Tina settled in, while I went back into town, looking for photos (mostly of the railroad and such) and free wifi... I found both... The railroad near the port, the wifi at the local library... I found the librarian a bit cross... The backpackers and cruise folks tender to sit outside blocking the entrance to the library and adjacent clinic... Apparently one cruise passenger had told her he wouldn't spend any money in town. While she didn't want people sitting on the ground outside, you were welcome to step inside, sit down in a real chair, and use the wifi at no charge... I apologized on behalf of the shop's passengers...
Having checked email, I walked back to the ship where we sat about, enjoyed happy hour in the Crow's Nest, a nice dinner in the dining room, and went to bed...
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