Gloomy Waitangi Day

Waking up in the dread of the frosty morning was the least of my problems. But getting out of bed was something different. My muscles barely mobile, I strained to get myself up on a gloomy Waitangi Monday.

My hopes were completely crushed as I spied through the blinds of my bedroom window wishing for my life that it was going to be a spectacular day for the beach. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t raining but I knew that it was going to soon. I could tell by the sombre look of the clouds and how the sun hid itself beneath a group of cumulus clouds so extraordinarily that not a speck of light showed itself. Not a single speck.

Although it was obvious that we were not going, it was odd to see that my sisters Agnes and Rosary were wearing their bathing suits and fashioning unbelievably broad smiles.
“What are you smiling for, I snorted, and we can’t be still going to the beach, can we?”
“We are, aren’t we Rosary,” Agnes said.
“Fat chance,” I muttered to myself.
“Bet you we are going Ben,” Agnes said. I laughed hysterically and poured milk into my cereal. I watched as the milk frothed around and around inside.

It was ten minutes later, and we were all piled inside our car heading in a northerly direction towards Browns Bay. I had no idea how this had happened, what had occurred to my parents minds? But it wasn’t like I didn’t want to go and it wasn’t raining either. So there really was no reason to complain. Reluctantly I had admitted defeat to Agnes and she curved her lips into a smirk and muttered something like “told you so.” I ignored her. The way to Browns Bay was going to be long and boring, but I couldn’t sleep because my brother was snoring so loudly that anyone within a five metre radius would lose their ears. Jokes!

Approximately forty five minutes later our car had pulled up into an available car park, and we were emptying it of our luggage. I shook my brother awake.
“Yo Joe, wake up.” He squinted at me through his baggy eyes, and closed them again saying nothing at all. I got the warning that if I tried again he would throw a tantrum. On one occasion he was almost close to punching me in the face. So I left him there, “Don’t come running to me if dad chucks you in the water,” I thought.

At exiting the car my feet collided with smoothness of the sand mixed with fresh grass. I glanced towards the grass hoping to find our picnic site. I saw it near a patch of sand, and the wind was blowing towards it. I thought this was one of the worst places to set site, and I think you’ll know why. My first and as always foremost option once arriving at the beach was to swim and I’m sure more than half the population of children there are in our world agree with me. But my parents (of course) didn’t let me, and more than half the parents that live on our world would have done the same thing. Lunch always came first on their list, and realising how hungry I was, it just wouldn’t make sense to wail and groan and plead as were the kids around me doing now. And the next thing I knew I was piling mounds of food onto a plastic plate and devouring every bit of it: corned beef, taro, chicken, and all that traditional Polynesian stuff. After about five minutes of pleading, my mum finally agreed that I could swim.

Splash! A face full of icy, brackish water crashed onto my face. It felt like I had been slapped in the face with a brand new thick sandal. I swam towards bigger waves to dive through. But an urging voice in my head told me to stay where I was. It was boring frolicking around in the water, doing nothing but well, bouncing around. It was getting windier and windier by the second, and I couldn’t help thinking about staying any longer. Nah! I should just stay, I thought to myself. Another gust of wind met my face, and I was suddenly under the water again, darting towards the sea bed. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t cold. It was probably because my body was getting used to the water. Seaweed clung onto my face and I brushed it off with my hand. Suddenly realising I couldn’t hold my breath any longer; I shot myself up to the surface, another cold gust of wind meeting my face. I noticed that I was alone because earlier my sisters were accompanying me, and now they were walking on the sand heading back towards the site. Coming to my senses I realised that everyone that I knew who was with me were gone. Kicking myself up from the water I followed them.

Arriving at the site I saw that there were mounds of leftover food on the mat. And before I could even reach out my hand my mum snapped at me telling me to get changed.
“You’ll eat after,” she said. I grinned and ran along to the changing rooms hurrying along in my wake.