ON A NORTHERN BEACH.

Taranaki Daily News, 15 December 1922, Page 6 (Supplement)

ON A NORTHERN BEACH.

(By Beryl Egarr, Norfolk Road, Standard VI., 12 years 9 months).

The most interesting day of my life—l am trying to think, to analyse, to sort out and to pick out the happiest of them, the most interesting day in a world of days (I do not seem to remember the nights) where, there is so much sunshine, so many little birds that sing, and where winter scarcely brushes us with his wings. Each day, as it passes, at this time of the year especially, seems to bring new interests, reveal new glories, and to close down, leaving us at sunset with the joy of living. Spring sunshine, however, is only one part of each year, and one day in summer seems to stand out in my memory perhaps more vivid than the rest. It was the holidays, the Christmas holidays of 1921, that we had looked forward to all the year, and the scene was a corner of Fairyland that had been dropped down on the shores of the famous Auckland harbor. I reluctantly pass by the trip by steamer from New Plymouth to Onehunga, the train ride across the island to the Queen Street wharf, and our run of an hour and a half down the harbor in the ferry boat (though that was surely one of “the days”), till we reached our destination, a little seaside village called Hawick. We hired one of those delightful little cottages on the beach, my two brothers, my sister, and I, with our parents, and we just lived in the sunshine and the sand. We had not been long at the water’s edge, that first sunshiny morning, when we espied, washed up on the beach, the dead body of what appeared to us a peculiar and unusual kind of fish. I inquired of a kindly-looking old fisherman, who sat smoking on the sunny side of the rustic bridge-like construction that did duty as a wharf, what kind of fish it was. “That ’ere little fish, missie,” he answered, “belongs to a deal savager kind than ye’d think. That be a baby shark, an’ if ’e wor’ on’y as big an’ as lively as ’is mommie ’tended ’im to be, ye wouldna’ be handling ’im like that theer.’’ We crowded round the toil-worn old man while he told us stories of the<sea, among which were some about sharks; we liked these latter kind best. Then he showed us the oyster beds, between the wharf and a beautiful rugged old cliff that defied the waves and went further out to sea than the rest. After explaining to us that we must not interfere with the oysters, as they were Government property and the getting of them was let by contract to various firms, our new friend led us on to the opposite side of the landing, where, when the tides are out, as it was then, there is a beautiful level beach about two chains deep. All along this sandy stretch, hidden amongst the grassy-looking seaweed that grew there, and half buried in the sand, lay innumerable cockles. These, the fisherman told us, we were free to take, for the mere finding and gathering of them; and oh, the delight of that hunt for cockles’ We found a few by feeling with our bare feet, but, in our enthusiasm, we were soon down on our hands and knees, scrambling along the beach from one end to the other, paying heed to neither the dampness of the surface nor the sharp edges of the shells which were uppermost against our knees. Not by far the least part of that joyous and happy day was the swift run over the sea-grasses and bracken to our little cottage a few yards distant, and the emptying of our sand-buckets before our parents. The sun of our prosperity was high; the fish we were to have for lunch that day were real ones, and of our own catching.

During lunch we indulged in a chat on various fish. Before to-day we had not noticed the beauty and the wonderful construction of the shell of these little dwellers of the sea. The dainty, fan-shaped home of the cockle awakened our admiration, not only by the beauty of the shell itself, but also the cleverness of the architect and builder. The fish roused both our curiosity and utmost respect, while father told us of brilliantly-colored creatures that abound in the Australasian waters, particularly those in the vicinity of the Great Barrier Reef.

After satisfying our hunger, we revelled in a refreshing bathe in the cool, delightful waters of the Tasman Sea, with the sweet balmy zephyr floating gently over

While we were thus enjoying ourselves, we suddenly heard a loud droning buzz, and, glancing in its direction, we espied, to our utter amazement, a giant seaplane speeding towards us. When about three hundred yards distant the monster suddenly swooped downwards, where it skimmed past us at a most terrific rate. We had often before seen and admired the sunset, but this one, with the harbor | and city for a foreground and the gulls screaming around us, together with the gorgeous colors of the sky, was too beautiful for pen to describe. Over earth and ocean, With gentle motion, Sailed evening, and spread her motherly wings Over harbor and city.