There are some idyllic bays tucked into notches around the Banks Peninsula. Winter is loosening its grip, so couple weeks ago we stayed at the Okains Bay campground, with tent sites tucked under those big pine trees just behind the beach.
Our friends Emma and Ian plus their three kids joined us for Saturday. If Sand + Water = Kid Happiness, then fresh Mussels + Beer = Adult Happiness.
Sand+Water+Dead Fish=Intense Happiness. We found this kahawai fish in one of the tidal pools, recently dead for no apparent reason. We were tempted to try eating it….but declined when we contemplated the various pathogens that might cause a fish to die at sea (actually, we have no idea about the pathogens, just aware that what we don’t know fills volumes). Then we saw a dolphin in the bay, and wondered if it got whacked by the dolphin, then lost in the waves. The diggers and trucks were immediately abandoned by the children. The fish was smacked, whacked, buried, disinterred, swung in graceful arcs, dropped from the overhanging rocks, and eventually detailed and descaled. Talk about cheap amusement.
You couldn’t tell Naomi that the rocks were too high for her–her chubby little fingers found the hand holds and her toes scrabbled up behind.
Aw, mommy-baby photo op.
The sand at Okain’s Bay is perfect for sculpting, smooth and wet and dense, and strong enough for a seat.
Some people are mesmerized by waves, languidly watching them for hours. I personally don’t find them so calming, but I did stop to admire the sun’s glare on the overlapping edges as they chuckled in to shore. I wonder if the waves feel a bit redundant, always doing and re-doing the same rote task, like endlessly tidying the sheets of sand only to have critters muck them up again with foot prints.