Pegman is one of a small but dedicated band of Kiwi astrophotographers capturing the beauty and mind-bending scale of the night sky, using recent advances in digital photography, technology developed for exploring Mars, and, above all, patience.
As a child growing up in the north of England he was fascinated by black holes and other celestial objects long before Carl Sagan's 1980 TV series Cosmos brought the universe into people's living rooms.
At that time his photography was confined to landscapes captured as he scampered about the peaks of the Lake District, first with an ancient, fully manual Praktica - the shutter was like a cannon going off, he says - and later a Pentax K1000.
Photography and the outdoors helped him escape from the unhappiness of school and his teenage years.
The name he gives to his current photographic obssession, Soliloquy, harks back to that time. A soliloquy is a device used in theatre when a character speaks to himself or herself, relating thoughts or feelings and thereby sharing them with the audience.
But for Pegman it is also "expressing your innermost thoughts as if no one is listening".
"I found that in the hills, on my own, far away from the misery of school," he says.
Twenty years ago Pegman fulfilled a long-held dream by emigrating to New Zealand with his wife and two daughters. They have had one more, now aged 17, since then.
The dream began when he was studying osteopathy next door to New Zealand House in London's Trafalgar Square. An Air New Zealand poster he scrounged, showing a view of Russell from Flagstaff Hill, has followed him ever since.
They came for the scenery - "I felt the whole world was represented in one country" - as well as a better climate, their kids' future, a more relaxed lifestyle and the lack of pretence. Here Pegman says he can be the person he wants to be and sport a mohawk if he pleases, which he regularly does.
The family started in Christchurch and eventually made their way to the Bay of Islands, where Pegman focussed solely on family, work and church.
All that changed three years ago. A perfect storm of serious financial strife and family illness, with both his wife and youngest daughter ending up in hospital, made him rethink his life and how he spent his free time.
"I realised I wasn't doing anything to charge myself back up again," he says.
So Pegman revived his teenage hobby by buying a digital SLR camera and joining a Facebook photography group, where a few experienced snappers took him under their wings.
The epiphany came when one of his on-line buddies posted a photo of the night sky at Okaihau.
It was, he realises now, a fairly ordinary image, but it opened his eyes to the possibilities of astrophotography in Northland.
Pegman soon discovered his camera wasn't up to the job so sold his guitar gear and used the money to upgrade (twice). He now uses a full-frame Canon 6D, usually with a Gigapan robotic housing - technology developed for the Mars Rover mission - allowing him to capture the entire night sky in a precise grid of 24 images.
He then uses some "very fancy software" to stitch the photos together into one giant image, and finally spends up to 20 hours hunched over a computer refining each image in Lightroom or Photoshop. The biggest he's had printed so far is four metres across and still sharp as a tack.
His first real success was at Cape Brett. He'd offered to take photos of runners in the Cape Brett Challenge and decided to stay in the lightkeeper's cottage. He spent the night wandering up and down the hillside looking for the perfect spot.
The resulting image, showing the brightly illuminated lighthouse in the foreground with the Milky Way's myriad stars arcing across the sky, is still one of his favourites.
Since then he has photographed the night sky over Marsden Cross for the 200th anniversary of the first Christian service in New Zealand, the Bay of Islands from a hill above Rawhiti, the Rainbow Warrior Memorial at Matauri Bay, the Stone Store, and Kerikeri's St James Church as the light of an evening service filters through stained glass windows.
His photo expeditions have involved camping out in odd places, being harrassed by possums and arousing the suspicions of security guards.
He has been "scared silly" by shrill noises until he realised they were kiwi calls and nearly froze on top of Mt Tongariro.
It's a hobby that would be difficult in a big city where light pollution invariably drowns out the stars.
"Northland is a belter of a place for it. My buddies in Auckland are very jealous. They have to drive huge distances just to get a clear sky."
Pegman still can't comprehend the scale of the universe - on an ordinary night in Northland, for example, you can see objects with the naked eye which are 200,000 light years or roughly 2,000,000,000,000,000,000km away - but it no longer has him crying himself to sleep.
Now when he looks at the night sky he sees beauty, inspiration and confirmation of his Christian beliefs.
"I've found peace with it. Now I look out there and I see God's work."
Chris Pegman's photos are on show at the Turner Centre's Theatre Bar, on Cobham Rd, Kerikeri, daily until the end of September. Free entry. The exhibition features photos from the past 10 years at the Turner Centre as well as his panoramic night sky images.