I am lounging outside on the open-air deck of a 40-foot launch as it putters away from shore in Havelock, the self-proclaimed world capital of greenshell mussels. It's February and, as friends freeze back in New York, I wear a short-sleeved shirt and wide-brimmed hat to protect me from New Zealand's sun. I have never before heard of a greenshell mussel and, truth be told, I am a reluctant eater of bivalves back home. But what crabs are to the Chesapeake Bay and lobsters are to Maine so, too, are greenshell mussels to the Marlborough Sounds, a region of inlets and bays on the northern tip of New Zealand's South Island. These particular mussels, our guide tells us, were a favorite food of the indigenous Maori. So finding out there is a three-hour boat tour that not only cruises the sounds but also dishes out wine and mussels, is a deal-clincher.

As we pull away from Havelock's marina, Dave Morgan, our captain, tells us about the European pioneers who settled in the sounds in the 1830s and about how living here still requires an off-the-grid mentality. Mail is delivered by boat twice a week, as are groceries. I peer into the water, an inviting hue of greenish blue, and ponder drinking it. I spot no flotsam and nary an oil patch and, for the first time, "fresh from the sea" sounds like a delicious idea.
Surrounded by sea cliffs, the sounds look as if a carefully sculpted ice mold had been removed to reveal craggy formations. We marvel at the expanse of these waters and feel dwarfed.

As we approach Kenepuru Sounds, about an hour north from Havelock, we see where the mussels are cultivated: Long rows of natural-fiber buoys float like lined-up cadets on the water's surface. Hanging down from these buoys are lines of rope on which the mussels anchor themselves.
 
As we stop the boat near the buoys, Morgan explains that the water, which is 57 to 64 degrees, is carefully monitored for purity. He pulls up a line to reveal dozens of the jade- and gold-colored mussels, almost jewel-like in their iridescence, attached to it. Morgan cuts one off and explains that it takes 12 to 18 months for them to mature from seed to harvest.
Once we're all mussel experts, a ready supply of mussels appears, and in about 10 minutes, after they are prepared, the eight of us on this cruise are gorging on the freshest mussels I've ever eaten. Because they are recently harvested, and they haven't been snap frozen, they are rich with salt water and the shellfish's own juice. No garlic or white wine is necessary for flavor. What does complement the mussels is a glass of chilled Awatere Terrace Sauvignon Blanc.
  
On a gourmet roll, the next day I drive to wine country and visit Cloudy Bay, a well-known winery in the region. Only 20 minutes from Havelock, Marlborough wine country is a patchwork of small country lanes connecting huge green tracts of vineyards. The fruit hangs heavy, since it is less than two months from harvest. Walking into Cloudy Bay, I know I'm in a sophisticated wine region, except I am the only one in the tasting room — when was the last time that happened in Napa? After the tasting, I journey to more vineyards, some whose wines I've never heard of and others whose labels I've seen on the shelves back at home. Throughout my four days in Marlborough, I feast on greenshell mussels and sip white wine. It's the perfect summer meal in February.