The Southern Ocean

We are south of the 46th parallel, almost as far south as our home is north.  It’s blowing 35-40 here in the "Roaring 40s."  Huge seas are crashing, the temperature has dropped into the high 40s, and we are safe and sound in a motel in the village of Oban on Stewart Island, not too far from the southernmost pub on the planet, unless you count whatever they might have on Antarctica. Sockdolager is safely tied up at a marina in the Bay of Plenty.  There is a lot of catching up to do, and we promise a nice long blog post soon.  But we wanted to let you know all is well.  Tomorrow we re-cross the Foveaux Strait back to Bluff, NZ, by ferry.