How do you say ¨fucken big shark¨ in spanish?
Today as I was sitting in the water, a large (but not mammouth to be fair) great white, took it upon itself to launch into the air not 15 meters from where I was sitting.
For the nay sayers that took it upon themselves to tell me that a) sharks don´t jump and b) it was just a fish... 1) you´re an idiot 2) yeah it was a fish. a big grey and white fish. dumb arse.
Lets make it clear that I find it hard to believe myself. If I hadn´t seen it with my own two (admittidly dodgy) eyes, I would pass the ¨see-er¨ off as a crack smoker. But I haven´t smoked crack since at least last week and I know what I saw.
So yeah, needless to say, I paddled my scared wee self into the beach... waveless... but with short legs no shorter than before the surf.
...
A fly on the palapa wall would perhaps see our days pass, without much of a difference from one day to the next. Perhaps this fly would see me, woken up by dad, come out of the tent rubbing the sleep from my eyes, pondering with a frown why I am up before the sun. It would see us load in whatever board from the quiver deemed appropriate for the days swell, along with at least 4 other peoples boards. And it would then see 3 people clamber into the front cab, with two people hanging off the back, the dimness of sleep disappearing from their eyes, as the thought of what waves awaited them today took over their thoughts.
It would then see us salty and sunned, return a few hours later. After reports of, how big, how clean, how crowded, have been passed around, and a quick rinse under the fresh water shower completed, this fly would then observe me settling into the muchos importante role of... lying in the hammock. Once in the hammock, many things can take place... The eating of breakfast (manzana yogurt with banana and almonds), reading of a novel or lonely planet, conversing with our new but wonderful buddies on all sorts of revitting conversation... or it could observe me simply... just... swinging...
Come the afternoon, after lunch has been consumed, an internet visit has occured, and the suns going-to-give-you-old-granny-skin rays have somewhat dimmed, the spider, tired after a day of dodging webs, would see the days stage 1 repeat. Boards loaded, off they go, smiles firmly planted...
We return as the sun has long since dipped over the ridge of the surrounding hills, and the last light is disppearsing into the dark night sky. Cold refreshing showers taken, insect repellant apllied vigorously, first cervza consumed with a starving thirst, the second consumed at the same pace of the meandering contemplation of the most important question of the day... Which restaurant should we eat at this evening? A laughing bunch of at least 4, and joined usually in quick succession by others, we desend upon the chosen eatery. After many laughs, a bit of spanish (improving slowly) with the locals, stories a plenty, a filling meal, and at least two pina coladas consumed (one for fun, one for desert), we make our way home... slightly heavy with food, slighty light with the days waves, sun and drinks...
As I am brushing my teeth, I observe a fly stuck in a web. Slight twitches, it is resigned to the fact that sooner rather than later, a big fucken spider is going to come eat it.
...
So there it is. Sharks, insects of all sorts - including two tranchulas we saw IN ONE NIGHT. At least it wasnt the Boa Constrictor that Zula the Swiss girl saw in the palapa down the beach. Having a great ol time in paradise and discovering that there are rather alot of other living things enjoying paradise with us.
So many good crew have been with us. It is sad to see them go! Mike and Laura left a few days ago. Our Hawaiian buddies just left a few minutes ago - luckily we will see them in 3 months when they come to Raglan. The ozzies are also off today, and the sole remaining kiwis, Ty, Dahlia, Cuzzie and Olive, will leave in a few days. Then it will be just father and I... and if the wildlife doesnt kill us first, then it will be survival of the fittest. May the best girl who is 22 called kelly win.
On a more serious note: In the past week, I got some of the most tragic news from home I could ever hear. Reminded just how precious this life is, we sat out in the water and sent our aroha all the way back to the west coast of Aotearoa. Though we may be in a beautiful place, doing the thing we love so much, we are reminded that family are everything. So to my whanau (comprising of those I was brought to by birth, and those I was brought to by life), I love you. Being my family, I will be there for you always, and I hope that no matter what, you can always feel that.
Go surfing, watch out for the noahs, love a little and then love some more...
Arohanui xxx
