(Dairy Beach)
I always thought it was a stealth mission. The wind up alarm would wake me just before dawn. I would quietly creep past my sleeping Dad and head out onto the balcony. There I'd raise my finger moistened in my mouth to see if the wind was offshore, if it was I quietly got my towel and wax along with the apartment key and a couple bucks. Then I'd get my board and walk to the front door. If I got this far without a sound from the old man I was normally good to go, if I heard him move it was all over.
"Make me a cup of tea boy and I'll take you down to the beach." That would bring me back into the apartment, there was no way out! I'd save no time in fact I'd probably get there at about the same time with his ride, but it always made me antsy to have to wait while the tea brewed. He could tell but it didn't change a thing, he was taking me come hell or high water, and I was making tea in exchange. At least this way I could make a complete check from Country to Addington if need be.
I always thought it was a stealth mission. The wind up alarm would wake me just before dawn. I would quietly creep past my sleeping Dad and head out onto the balcony. There I'd raise my finger moistened in my mouth to see if the wind was offshore, if it was I quietly got my towel and wax along with the apartment key and a couple bucks. Then I'd get my board and walk to the front door. If I got this far without a sound from the old man I was normally good to go, if I heard him move it was all over.
"Make me a cup of tea boy and I'll take you down to the beach." That would bring me back into the apartment, there was no way out! I'd save no time in fact I'd probably get there at about the same time with his ride, but it always made me antsy to have to wait while the tea brewed. He could tell but it didn't change a thing, he was taking me come hell or high water, and I was making tea in exchange. At least this way I could make a complete check from Country to Addington if need be.
(Doug Knox: Bay of Plenty)
We would get down to North Beach usually and he would drop me off as the sun was just coming up, a huge ball of orange rising out of the glass Indian Ocean. "See you in a few hours, want a sandwich?" As I closed the back door of the Valiant, board in hand I'd ask for a bacon and fried egg toasted please, "You want the bloody moon!" the old man would reply as he drove off.
We would get down to North Beach usually and he would drop me off as the sun was just coming up, a huge ball of orange rising out of the glass Indian Ocean. "See you in a few hours, want a sandwich?" As I closed the back door of the Valiant, board in hand I'd ask for a bacon and fried egg toasted please, "You want the bloody moon!" the old man would reply as he drove off.
Years later he would get a big kick out of telling my friends how I would stumble past him in the dark eyes still closed, I'd wet the tip of my finger. If the winds were onshore I'd quietly turn around and go back to bed, but if the west was blowing that my eyes would shoot open......... the old bugger had been watching me the entire time!
8 comments:
ha. a great read this early morning. my Dad doesn't really know much about the ocean or the beach having grown up in the Andes but I can certainly remember some classic moments. thanks for the story.
That was good Gazza! It reminded me of my dad.
Where I grew up in Oahu Hawaii, there was a canal behind our house than ran into Kailua Bay. From the roof of our house, you could see Flat Island offshore and if there was any whitewater around Flat Island, there were ridable waves. You had to climb a tree to get on the roof of our house and run down the length to get a good look. My dad died last year but he used to complain that he could never sleep in on weekends back then because all my surfer friends and me were (loudly) running up and down our roof early every morning doing a surf check!
great story. great photos!
Cool memories Cedar...
I remember in the mid-80's, hiking into Shi-Shi beach from Neah Bay and camping with you and your Dad. Over the campfire that night, you and he got into a rip-roaring argument over some obscure South African political difference. You both went to sleep pissed off at each other. The next morning, before we went surfing, I believe you made him his tea first. You may have had radical political views, but you were a good son...
Ha!Ha! Funny story PK, sounds quite true too, Saffas love to argue their politics, god knows we had reason to!
Nice story Gazz.
It seems dads can read us like a book they once wrote themselves. My dad was only 20 when i was born, so from the time i was off the tit i was his partner in crime. The stories come flooding back when we get a couple beers in the both of us.
I love stories about fathers and sons. love your photos too
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