An original story, based on true events

Earlier this month I wrote about a certain writing competition that I won last year (and didn't win this year). I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you might want to read that ''winning story''. So that's why I'm posting this story on my blog. I'm also considering posting the story I entered this year, so you guys can see the comparison. Yes, I'm doing it all for you.
Anyhow, this is based on a true story, and I hope you like it.

Surprises around each corner, and over every wave.

As I sit at my computer and stare out at the water trapped between Tindalls’ distance strip of cream coloured sand, Big Manly Beach covered in tiny specks of happy families and Swann Cove’s lush pohutukawa trees I recall the events of that unforgettable January day three long summer’s ago…

The air was filled with our anticipation for the day ahead. It was early, the sun just a pale yellow shape silently rising from behind the Gulf Harbour peninsula. The air was cold; a mirror of the eerie blue sky’s watered down colour. It was going to be another beautiful day here in the Bay, how could it not be? With not a single cloud to be seen and the water looking like a plate of frosted glass?

We were going to go fishing today out by Mota Ora and I knew we were going to have a really successful day. Why? Because my dad had told me so the previous night as we had watched the sun go down, departing through a leaving party of fluffy pink clouds; ‘Pink at night, sailor’s delight. Tomorrow it’s gonna be like shooting fish in a barrel.’

So while dad and my older brother were hooking up the boat to the tow bar and mum was packing the picnic and filling the chilly bin I had been set the task of sorting out the towels and beach things. I went to the cupboard and pulled at a pile of towels managing to bring down the entire contents of the top shelf in the process. I grabbed a few then pushed the door closed to cover the evidence as we all probably have done at one time or another. I went out to the deck to get the beach bag and found everything covered in sand from our sand castle building expedition a few days before. I shook the bag out and left a small beach and a half sitting on our deck.

It was now nearly time to leave, apparently, as dad kept saying; if we left it to late the boat ramp was going to be choca-blocked, whatever that meant. Mum was rubbing sun block on my arms and face and like everything else it hadn’t been spared from the sand. The white cream was all gritty as she rubbed it in and as usual she left one big blob on the bridge on my nose. And so, after reluctantly putting on a hat and dad saying that no, we couldn’t ride in the boat on the way down we were turning into the car park of The Bay Boat Club.

We didn’t have a big boat then just a twelve foot Mac boat, basically just like a fancy fibreglass dingy. So after the usual fighting over who got to ride on the tractor and dad letting us both squish on to the back, dad was letting the boat slowly into the water then driving the trailer away with my brother sticking his tongue out at me all the way.

We sat in the blazing hot, January sun for three hours. Jumping with excitement whenever we thought we got a bite or sighing melancholy when we realised there was no fish on the end of our line. We had only used three or so bait fish because nothing was biting at all. At the climax of our fishing trip dad managed to catch an extremely undersized snapper that I insist he throw back, albeit reluctantly.

The heat and sunlight reflecting off water (no matter how gorgeous it looked) was starting to get to us all and so after mum saying to dad; ‘Pink at sunset, fishermen’s regret’ we were headed home. The mood was not uplifting to say the least so I suggested we go for a little look around Tindalls. That was proved to be a very wise decision indeed. We rounded the corner in a wide arc and saw about six or more boats all filled with people motoring about the same small area. Dad was excited when he realised it might be a new amazing fishing spot. Well, it turned out there was no short of marine life in that little patch of water but not in the way you might think.

As we got closer we realised that it was actually a pod of dolphins, and a big one at that.
We were heading closer to join the sort of semi-circle of boats around them when one of them did an amazing jump right out of the water. It seemed to stay up there forever, droplets of water glistening on every inch of its smooth blue-grey skin. Unfortunately, gravity still existed and it dived back down into the crisp, cobalt blue water with a splash.

They were heading in land at an angle and so everybody began to follow. It was quite spread out and really, still quite private as only little dinghies were there. Though we were close enough for me to see the expressions of pure joy on everyone’s faces, and the expression that could have been perceived as a smile on a golden Labrador’s face that was sharing a boat with its master.

Now, people say dolphins are extremely intelligent animals but personally I think they are just genus humans that are so smart the have mastered the art of breathing underwater. They were swimming so close, I reached out and my fingers and they found the silken skin of a dolphin as it sped past. Then my dad proved that even if he couldn’t breathe underwater he could still use his intuitive pretty well; and he threw a whole bait fish over the side. It only was on the surface of the water for a few moments before a dolphin swam along and it was gone.

Right after that we all simultaneously reached into the bait bag and threw a fish over board. We had the attention of some of the dolphins now so I decided I should use my brain and held the bait fish over the side by the tail. We were stopped by now so it was possible that a dolphin might be feeling friendly and pop by for a bit. It proved true as a dolphin’s elegant fin sliced through the water and stopped about a metre away. It cautiously edged close and took it in its mouth. A dolphin had just eaten something form my hand, my jaw was probably touching the sea floor. There was still half of the fish left and the dolphin back came over and stayed there while it ate. I touched the skin around the side of its head and let my hand glide down the front of its long face.
Then as time reluctantly moved on it made a squeaking noise that I will forever remember as a ‘thank-you’ it dived deep down and swam away.

I didn’t want to spoil what had just occurred with another attempt so I just sat there, rocking with the slight swells and watching as dolphins shared special moments with humans all round. They soon began their retreat out to deeper ocean and us inland. We didn’t speak much as we were all so awestruck. We all were probably smiling like idiots as we put the boat on the trailer and drove home but it didn’t matter as I felt like I was floating on air and I just felt whole and so unbelievably happy.

And that’s my story. I’m sure many amazing things have happened to people all around Rodney; it’s just that kind of place. With little bush tracks and secluded little nooks and bays around nearly every corner its something that’s hard to avoid during summer. But I think us as people; can get too caught up in out work, distracted by money and little problems that would soon blow over in the cool summer breeze if you let them. Rodney is an absolutely amazing place, it’s a beautiful oasis and I believe that it needs to be recognized for what it is.

Paradise.