[jshepherd]

Day 8

Awake and rested, we headed to the bus after a New Zealand-style breakfast. We drove to the small town of Akaroa, about an hour and a half outside of Christchurch.

The countryside of New Zealand ran by the windows like a film-strip of postcards, each more beautiful than the last. We chatted about “Lord of the Rings” and just admired the scenery.

Akaroa is a quaint little town, sleepy on a day like this. We walked down the center of the street as there were no cars or pedestrians to speak of.

At the end of the town's pier we visited a blue pearl jewelry store, and a presentation gallery that detailed the operation – past and present.

Split into three groups, we took turns on the boat out to the farm.



It was cold and windy, bouncing through the waves; it felt as though we were on an Alaskan fishing boat. The crew on board and the crew on the barge looked as though they had endured this weather for years. Roger later told me we were lucky that the weather was so nice!



The barge had been retrofitted to pull barrels of abalone out of the water. The black barrels, which looked like perforated garbage cans, were packed with abalone in all different stages of growth. Roger pulled a few out and lifted the edges of their mantles, or “lifted their skirts”, as he so aptly put it, to show us the growing cultured mabe pearls.



Returning to Akaroa we had lunch at a local diner and talked about the day. I sat across from Roger and asked a lot of questions. After lunch it time to head back, but Roger invited me to ride along with him to continue our conversation.

Instead of going straight back to the hotel, Roger took me back to the processing center for a private “behind the scenes” tour. He allowed me to shoot photos of the entire process and equipment, and interview him candidly as we went. I had been familiar with his operation since the late '90s, and was particularly interested in the progression and seeming success he had finally achieved. I may write an article for P-G about it soon.


Roger showed me how each piece of equipment worked

After another cup of tea and a discussion about scotch, a fellow scotch lover he his, Roger drove me back to the hotel. I arrived with 15 minutes to prepare for dinner.

Dinner was at a private club which was once limited to male members. We heard a bit about its history, which closely paralleled that of Christchurch.

Bidding adieu we walked back to the hotel.