Every sailor dreams of discovering new shores, of setting foot where water meets land and the unknown unfolds. After months of feeling the familiar sway of the ocean beneath my boat, I found myself on solid ground — New Zealand’s South Island, known as Te Waipounamu, the Land of the Greenstone. Here, mountains rise from the sea, and every step reveals stories both ancient and new. Join me as I take you through three chapters of this remarkable journey, where land and sea mirror each other and the horizon is always a promise. Traveling by Intercity bus let me slowly immerse myself in the ever-changing landscape.
Arrival and Connection — From Cook Strait to Marlborough Sounds
After crossing the unpredictable waters of Cook Strait aboard the ferry from Wellington to Picton, the sunlight welcomed me like a fresh breeze after a storm. Onboard, I met fellow travelers — Alex from England, and later Kelley and Beau — whose stories blended with mine like currents converging. Kelley’s podcast The Same Boat reminded me how, no matter our different paths, we all share the same journey.
Marlborough Sounds greeted me with waters so calm they mirrored the towering hills, like a compass pointing both upwards and downwards — towards sky and depth. In Picton, I was met by Tricia holding a sign with my name — a rare anchor in a sea of strangers. Over the following days, unexpected detours and new friendships shaped my passage through the South Island. From missed buses to quiet cafés, every moment felt like a wave unfolding in a larger story.
Mirrors of the South Seas — Cycling, Lakes, and Mountains
The bike beneath me felt like a vessel gliding over water as I rode toward Lake Matheson. The winding path stretched before me like a tidal stream threading through sandbanks — patient, inevitable. The surrounding fields, sprinkled with sorrel and buttercups, transported me back to childhood cycling rides in the Dutch countryside, reminding me how even halfway across the world, a piece of home can appear unexpectedly.
At Lake Matheson, the mountains reflected perfectly in the still waters, their peaks melting into the sky. During a chance encounter, a man recognized me from my YouTube channel — a surreal moment, being known so far from home. The bus ride to Queenstown stretched beyond schedule, teaching me that arrival times, like wind, are suggestions rather than guarantees.
Queenstown offered lightness — avocado toast at Vudu Café, rich chocolate ice cream by the lake, and the company of Kelley. Our walks around Moke Lake were filled with silent moments where the wind whispered through the grass, like stars twinkling on a windless night at sea. Milford Sound followed, with its cathedral-like peaks and silver waterfalls. Mirror Lakes perfectly reflected the sky and mountains — rare moments when the boundary between above and below disappears.
Every step was a passage, every view a lesson in patience, strength, and trust. Water, in all its forms, connected every experience.
Farewell to the South Island — Goodbyes and New Horizons
Christchurch offered a different kind of journey: wandering historic streets where wooden houses hold stories, walking along the Avon River that winds gently like a silver thread through the city, and tasting warmth in cozy cafés. The ocean’s nearness was felt in the salty breeze, the rhythm of the surf, and the familiar caress of wind — a reminder that, no matter where I am, water remains my compass.
The ferry back to Wellington carried a gift — a surprise reunion with Billy aboard his boat Pixie, a fellow rare bird of the ocean like me. I waved and jumped from excitement as he sailed into Picton as I sailed out. Dolphins danced alongside us, their shimmering bodies offering a final farewell to the island.
Wellington itself was a harsh contrast — a hostel that smelled of still air and restless nights. Yet even here, small lights appeared: a kind barista, soft music in a coffee caravan, and shared smiles on a bus ride north with Regina from Germany. The landscape shifted outside the window like a changing tide — from diverse communities to quiet hills guarded by wind turbines.
Looking back, the South Island gifted me glaciers, lakes, walks, and conversations. It taught me that land and sea share more than we think — both require attention, respect, and an openness to be surprised. As the island faded behind me, I sailed onward — guided by an open heart, curious eyes, and the promise of new stories yet to unfold.
This South Island journey was more than a physical passage — it was an inner voyage. Filled with unexpected winds, quiet moments, and connections that remind us of the vast web we’re part of. Land and sea, human and nature, past and future — all flow together in life’s great current. And so, I sail on, with open eyes and a curious heart.
My name is Jacqueline Evers from The Netherlands. Solo sailing around the world in my 27 foot sloop. While my husband and son may have chosen a different path, their unwavering support fuels my solo pursuit of this lifelong dream.
Not confined by age or the constraints of conventional life, in my 50s, I bravely departed from the rat race, trading it for the serenity of the open sea. Through my unscripted videos and blogs, I offer a glimpse into the authentic tapestry of my sailing
🔗 Explore my Adventures: YouTube, Polarsteps & Instagram
📸 Feel connected to my journey: Buy a t-shirt or sweater in the Loveworkx Shop
🌟 Support the Voyage: Join on Patreon or contribute via PayPal
Please Subscribe and Join me as I sail Around the World… 🌍