The Gloom Returns...

The day began with a glowing pink horizon. But, the blanket of clouds overhead was not what I wanted to see. The wind seemed light enough, but today was not going to be as nice as yesterday.

Rod was checking the reports early when I got up. It wasn't looking like a dawn patrol, he announced. We would have to wait and see if the wind was going to turn more westerly, as forecast.

Natalie left for her job in Dunedin, while Rod and I munched on Sanatorium granola (the best!), that great multi-grain toast they have here, and plum preserves from his orchard. We talked a long time this morning, and I learned more than ever about New Zealand, and all the realities I did not want to face.

A public school in New Zealand is run more like a business. That would explain the same sex schools and the uniforms. They are set up to promote the rich, it sounds like, with the districts having the most money having the best equipment and computers. If the district is poor, they have little, and that means little hope of getting ahead in the world. Health care is not the ideal here, either, and that was an eye-opener. Seems like New Zealand is becoming more and more like America. Rod is officially disillusioned. It was a very interesting conversation, with a very wise man, but it was sobering. I learned all about the harbour protests over the aluminum factory that was going to come in that was prevented. I loved that story. I was going to walk right downtown to buy the documentary, but when Rod called for me they were sold out.

After that, we had about an hour before we were to go check the waves, so I went for a walk downtown. I went to the Large Poppy and had some food, and then stopped at a little store for some Hot Cross Buns for Easter breakfast tomorrow. The weather was bleak, but the walk was astounding. The dark pines waved in the breeze, the rustic church and graveyard sat creepy and silent. When I got back, Rod was making sandwiches for us to take on our surf mission.

As we dropped down the hillside, he said the waves looked good. You could see the corduroy lines moving into shore. Just beautiful. The wind seemed dead, and as we pulled into view of the line-up, he hooted. No one was out! Once on the beach, we rushed to pull on damp wetsuits. We raced out to the break beneath cloudy skies. Just after we got outside, the wind came up. We both had a few shoulder high, perfectly lined up green peelers before the blustery wind became too much for me. Each paddle for a wave was a bullet spray in the face ordeal. And, my neck has been rubbed raw from the wetsuit, making it a painful paddle in more ways than one. One more day and I will be in the relative warmth of Gisborne, and maybe... just maybe, a springsuit!