ON BEING MERRY

Taranaki Daily News, 14 February 1931, Page 13 (Supplement)

ON BEING MERRY

HOLIDAY SNAPSHOTS

(By “

“Michael.”)

Before proceeding further, please realise the truth of. this profound philosophy: that for the workers of. the world, which term includes neither school children nor their teachers, the best part of the holiday is the anticipatory stage wherein much of the working day is spent in pleasant conjecture of oneself on warm beaches, on tennis courts and on cool verandahs, in pleasing company. Strangely enough, the holiday seldom passes as anticipated, although it might be just as pleasant. In the case of the beach there is often a lack of warmth; at tennis one gets hot and then loses a ball; while, although the verandah may . be cool enough, the company may not be up to dream standard. Even if it is, it is unfortunately sometimes as cool as the verandah itself. Then, of course, the last week of the holidays is spoilt by the approaching shadow of the next 50. So eat, drink and be merry, for to-morrow —we work. Pessimists will, of course, point out the ominous likelihood of losing the. opportunity to work either through economic measures, or otherwise, but. . . well, ope must be merry! So away for the holiday, and devil may care. •«« ■ •

Gloriously hot day, plenty of benzine, enough weight to hold the car on the road, three rollicking cobbers, a wire safely sent to Hamilton, and a fortnight’s holiday. Wonderful! 12.10: First blow-out with Waitara in sight. Very hot changing wheel. Tar on knee of trousers. Not so wonderful. 12.30: New tube, and away all serene. 12.33: Waitara bridge safely crossed. Second blow-out on hill. Garage man unpopular. 1 p.m.t Away again. Feeling better. 1.30: Loud report. Varied expressions of anxiety and anger. Inspection shows spare tyre blown out. Dashed holidays not all they are made out to be. 3 p.m.: Awakino. Spare being fixed. 4 p.m.: Awakino: Spare being fixed again. 4.10: Another wire to Hamilton.

5 p.m.: Damn the epare, let’s risk it. 9 p.m.: Hamilton. 9.5: Well, I really forget. These holidays aren’t so bad, after all.

Wonderful features of holiday time are the meeting of old friends —• # * *. •

Many of you know Bu, some personally, others by hearsay, and still others by signs and distinct losses of fruit. Those who have heard of him are still at school, those who often saw signs of him, but never actually h,ad the pleasure of a meeting, include most of New Plymouth’s leading orchardists. Bu, yon will all be pleased to hear,.is very well. He takes old friends yachting in Tauranga. I had never been yachting, and had always wished to go, as it looked so attractive in life and mysterious in writing. It was a fine day with a strong, keen wind. As I have said, I had never been yachting. I showed great interest in the dinghy. Bu noticed this, so placed me in the sharp end, presumably, in order that I could see the whole dinghy and at the same time watch the muscles in his back, livery time we met a wave there was some spray. By the time we reached the Daphne I was quite wet. Bu’s broad back, I noticed, was perfectly dry. It was apparent that Bn knew his sea, the habits of the dinghy, and his passenger. When Bu, who’? was skipper, said “Stand by!” I was to spring to one side, and at the word “Lo” was to loosen cue rope and haul on another. Perfectly simple. First of all, however, I was to watch it done. I stood square before the cabin door and watched. From there I saw one rope loosened and another pulled. Something hard delivered me a terrific blow on the head. From the floor I saw Bu laughing as he tied one of the ropes. It appeared he had forgotten to tell me that a very hard length of wood called the boom swings across when one rope is loosened and the other tightened. I was so busy remembering which rope was which that 4 in spite of a very choppy sea, I forgot to be seasick.

On the way home in the dusk the wind blew harder and the Daphne kept burying her bows in rising seas,? Spray came across continually and Stronger puffs of wind keeled her over sharply. Ropes strained and,.bet ween the squalls, the sails would flap disconsolately. Bu tacked round a headland and anchored in comparatively calm water to take another reef in the mainsail. It was gusty enough at anchor, and the jib was torn from our hands and flapped until a rope fouled near the top of the main mast. I jerked on it to no purpose when, to my surprise, one of the crew calmly shinned up the thirty or so feet of mast and untangled the rope, in spite of the giddy lurchings of the yacht. Stingingly cold spray and the shrill whistle of the wind, through the rigging remain as vivid' impressions of a delightful day.. # # # *

—and the making of new ones.

Her sister, who was in love, informed me in all seriousness that, at that age, most of the family grew rather plump. She used the word) “temporary,” and from that I gathered she implied that it was looked upon rather as a temporary failing. The object of this criticism played a fine game of tennis, in spite of any “temporaryness.” After several hard 6ets we were taken home. The verandah was cool and looked away down the harbour towards the lount. And so passed another holiday afternoon.

Tauranga, Tc Puke, Whakatane, Opotiki. Delightful; not one puncture. Opotiki, then 25 miles of wild gorges and great scenery, with misty clouds and heights, Motu, Matawai, Te Karaka, Gisborne. On country houses in tl.w foothills we saw people picking bricks from their roofs. Scarcely one intact chimney could we see—it was a Tuesday! In Gisborne we realised that the ’quake had been a bad one. The people were nervous and excited. Piles of. masonry lay about the footpaths, and g'ass from from many shop fronts met • e eye of th° pedestrian. The Napier road was hopeless so, on Wednesday—Gisborne, Te Karaka, Matawai, Motu, Opotiki, Whakatane, Te Teko, Lake Roto-ma. Thursday —Rotorua, Taupo, Tokaanu. . .

The smoke of camp fires in the air, A misty cloud of gray Against the crimson setting sun Down old Tokaanti way. * « # *

There steals across the near-by lake A vagrant melody, To rise and fall on winds of dusk, A camper’s rhapsody. Monday: work.