Tuesday 10thth September, Uretiti Beach. The sound of the ocean here is completely different to Piha. At Piha the surf is always running. Day and night there is the constant rumble of waves falling over each other, crashing into the ocean and finally rushing up the beach. It is incessant and constant. The wind is currently offshore here at Uretiti (nor ’wester today), and whilst the Pacific is less than a hundred metres away, there is no noise to alert me to it. The waves in here come slowly. Each wave rolls in, one at a time, splishing its way forward before finally washing out across the even sand. Unlike the constant roar at Piha, there’s a gap between each wave. It’s like cars on a country road. You hear each one come, and pass, there there’s a wait before the next. I was quite pleased when I woke before the dawn. Of all the days I’ve been next to the ocean in the van I’ve not yet been in a position to see the sun rise over the ocean. So, I grabbed my coat and my camera and walked in the morning gloom over the dunes to the beach. The pre-dawn chill numbed my ears and fingers, and I was pleased to see the first strands of light spring from the cloud sitting on the horizon. I took my pictures and headed for warmth. It was 6:40. I still wore my pyjamas under my coat, and it was still early enough to go back to bed; so I did. After coffee, toast and a tin of peaches I got into the day. I have a lot to do to in terms of fleshing out the detail in my book. I have the general form of it; know in a general way how it unfolds, and know the ‘sidebar’ stories I want to tell, but I have a lot of work to do linking it all together and telling each part concisely. I have to be particularly careful with one very major aspect, and that is the Maori pre-history. Each tribe places great store by the tales of their past. To carelessly report any of it incorrectly is a grave insult. The part that gives me the biggest difficulty is how to deal with the parts of their oral tradition, which they hold as literally true, that are clearly metaphorical. I have no idea how to do this yet… and probably won’t until I come to draft the actual texts. Here is an example. One particular boat leaves its tohunga (priest) behind after a quarrel. They sail to New Zealand without him, but he arrives first, having been transported here by a Taniwha… a spirit beast. I have no right to say that there’s no such thing as Taniwha. They are real to Maori. Therefore I can’t dismiss the account as fiction and not history. This is a problem with the Maori Oral tradition when viewed from the European perspective. I have great difficulty understanding what’s happened when historical detail is merged with mysticism and symbology. The Maori have no such difficulty. I took a break in the afternoon and had a good explore around the campsite. I was pleased with my choice of site; it was as good a spot as any there is here. Of the dozen or so caravans and campers here only half seem to be occupied. The others appear parked up and waiting for their owners’ next visit. These are loosely clustered around the warden’s office. I gave an ablution block a closer inspection. They’re neat and tidy, and clearly all fairly new replacements of some rather more primitive (still here, but locked) facilities. In the showers I noticed that the water tap had a red button on it, suggesting that it might offer up hot water. I ran the water and tested it. As I walked back to the van I wondered if I would ever recover sensation in my right hand. Back at the van I flicked water heater on. It’s gas powered, and I now know that I don’t get through much gas, and I also have no shortage of water. So, it time to try out my own shower. Up ‘til now I’ve showered at the campsites, only missing out while at Waikaremoana, where it was simply too cold to even contemplate. I was delighted with the result. I’d not found the prospect of the shower in the van very convincing. I expected a hurried, draughty and constrained experience under a dribble of lukewarm water. I was wrong on every count. The water was hot and plentiful. It was more generous that at Hi-de-Hi’s, and despite the shower also having a toilet in it, it seemed as spacious as any other. I’d had the forethought to turn the van’s heater on before stepping into the shower, so when I emerged I stood in lovely warm air… a luxury absent at the campgrounds. Good news all ways round. I’ve added a bunch of photo’s of the beach and campsite to the album September 2013. I’m going to stay here tonight and tomorrow night, but probably won’t be adding many more photo’s. It’s a big beach, but not much more. There’s a limit to the number of ways you can photograph it. Now, it’s time for a cuppa and cake, then back to work. Tonight’s in-flight entertainment is “Back to the Future III”. Goodnight all.
Posted on: Tue, 10 Sep 2013 09:48:30 +0000
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