I’ve lived in the deep south of the South Island, for twenty years now.
I love it down here, nestled alongside the Southern Alps. But I’m a Shore-Girl
at heart and when summer heats the land, I crave the saline depths of the ocean
to cool me down, not our pristine lakes.
Fussy maybe? Nonetheless, I was born that way. On the Ides of March,
1964, at Takapuna Hospital, a stones throw from the beach in the North Shore
suburb of Auckland; sun and stars and hours of labour aligned, then like Jonah
being spat out of the whale, I emerged. Zodiac sign: Pisces. The two fish -
salt water obviously. My destiny chosen. I would love water and swimming from
that moment forth.
And I did. I was that kid who reappeared at the end of a beach day;
wrinkled as a prune, last years Speedos cutting into sunburnt shoulders, a dark
peppering of freckles across my nose and cheeks, salted blond hair, ears full
of sand and a satisfied grin.
“Pisces love to swim…this easy glide… in the sea…serves to alleviate
much of their stress.” I read on an astrology website just now. Any chance I
get to leave our lovely landlocked home and head to the coast I grab with my
finned hands.
A couple of weekends ago we spent a blissful 24 hours at the sleepy
seaside village of Aramoana, just out of Dunedin. The weather was stunning.
Hot. The sea artic. Probably around 12 degrees Celsius. I sunbathed and read my
book. The kids swam in wetsuits. Day-trippers ate chips and drank bear under
umbrellas. Mums ran after toddlers. A seal rotted in the sand. No mind, you couldn’t
smell it. There wasn’t a breath of wind. Ah the great kiwi summer. Sun, sand
and tiny surf. Bliss
Despite my sunny loved up state I couldn’t take my mind
off the, Aramoana Massacre of 1990. The entire time.
Later that evening the kids
and I explored the narrow streets of the village looking for a track to the
northern side of the beach. I'm not obsessive or anything. Much. But I
wondered...
Perhaps David Gray had
lived in a crib like this?
