"OH! FOR A LAUNCH!"

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 28, 26 April 1927, Page 5

"OH! FOR A LAUNCH!"

(Written for THE SUN.) If the gods who grant to mortals all their wishes were to wait in deputation upon me to find what I most desired in the world, I should say: “Give me a launch, a few weeks’ holiday, and weather like you gave us this Easter. Then give me a handful of friends who have grown up with me, a bag of fishing lines to catch breakfasts, and tell me that I may cruise round in the Hauraki Gulf till the time is up.” This is not a. very tall order, but even the youngest of the gods would see the possibilities it contains. If I had my choice in the startingplace I should arrange to be in Matakana when the launch descended from the skies. Matakana is a little village a few miles inland. It has daily communication with Auckland by bus, overland to Kaipara Flats and thence by rail, and once or twice a w'eek a little steamer glides up the winding river through the mangroves. Yes, I should be staying with a friend who would live away along the straight road that runs into the hills. I should see that she was of one of the old families who can look back nearly a hundred years, as many in this village can relate such stories, that her house had a thatched roof, and that she lit the fire in the mornings with ti-tree, so that the scent of the sweet smoke could penetrate to my gabled room. I should start off down the river long before the dew was off the grass. Farmers on either side of the road to the wharf would be getting their cows in, and the sun would make a long track of gold along the water as I chugged down to the sea. Behind me the hills would be creeping out of the mist. Tamahunga, known on the map as Mount Hamilton, would have, perhaps, a little rose-tinted cloud resting half-way to the summit, and the low hills would be purple and golden in the light of the early day. Soon I should come to the mouth of the river. I should cruise, I think, along the shore for a while, past the little pohutukawa-fringed bays, because I have learned that there are few more beautiful places on earth than these northern shores. The breath of peace and restfulness that pervades them is as balm to city-dwellers.

And then across to Kawau. I wouldn’t call at the Mansion House Bay, but would wander all round the island. I might have lunch on the little island known to mainland residents as Pine Island, because there are heaps of dry driftwood on the sand for fires, and shade under the pines. And oysters? Yes, but these are forbidden fruit. If accidentally one is opened on the rocks one may slip it quietly into one’s mouth, but the risk is hardly worth it. A horrible detective may be lurking round the next rock, and then no amount of tears or entreaties will soften his heart. I’d go fishing before the day was up. To Half-Tide Rock, just off th€; Matakana coast, I think. Or off anj r of the little headlands. The waters teem with fish, and the fishing itself, when it is not for wanton sport, is good fun. Little schnapper, cooked over driftwood fires, make breakfasts fit for kings. . . . And then to sail off again, dangling my hand over the side of the boat into the warm blue water. Oh! but I should have a lovely holiday if the gods who grant to mortals all their wishes were to give me launch and three weeks’ sunshine to sail in the Gulf. I wish they would call on me, or give me a tinkle on the phone! K. M. KNIGHT.

Mr. Thurston has a hlg reputation on the English stage both in vaudeville and revue work. Among the revues he has played in are “Flying’ Colours,” “Hello Tango," “Hello Ragtime” and “Brighter London." He is also one of those fortunate theatrical folk who never enters a country under contract to any firm —he makes his arrangements after he gets there.