Seafood

Te Ao Hou, March 1974, Page 3

Seafood by Pehi Parata The day broke beautiful and fine, and with much excitement we busied ourselves in preparation for the 11-mile trip to ‘the rocks’, as we called the beach where we were going that day to gather sea-food. Eleven whole miles—it seemed a lifetime—but at last we were there. The beautiful blue sea stretched beyond the tail of Kapiti, which now shimmered in the heat, out and beyond even Te Waipounamu, until it was difficult to tell where the sea ended and sky began. So much to do … so much to see and touch … all squeezed into five minutes. Never mind the sharp rocks that cut, the huge mosquitoes that bit on brown skin, the fall on slippery rocks—it was all forgotten in the first dive into that cool crystal-clear water … the laughter … the tears … the memory … I remembered too, being told we kids were not tourists—we were brought along to work, to help gather paua and kina—a task we enjoyed anyway. ‘Turn over the rock and you will find the paua clinging to it’ … ‘Be quick or you will never wrench him loose’ … ‘Feel under that rock wrench him loose’ … ‘Feel under that rock for a kina’ … and in our eagerness we were rewarded with a handful of spikes; and if we needed strength to carry on, we were told to leave the shell way above the high water line. The kits were filled in a short while, full of paua that would soon be shelled and hung up like necklaces to dry—to be eaten at one's leisure; full of kina that was soaked a day or so and eaten in a hurry; giant crabs that looked already cooked with their bright red shell; and it we were lucky, a crayfish, kourahoki-whakamuri, backed into the furthermost corner … The furthermost corner … alas … just like the crayfish that got away, the paua and kina have gone and hid in the further-most corner with him …