figureheads

Haunui, waka hourua

"So, you think that homeschooling is all about making money do you? It's kids like you that should be in school."

On lookout for daddy who was greeting an ocean-voyaging waka with his team of waka ama paddlers, we basked our bodies on the breakwater of Tarakohe's port yesterday.

Mirrored waters in the harbour reflected back to us the beauty of stingrays and snapper idling and gliding, and my children drifting around the steep rocky walls, seals, cormorants and penguins on radar, hanging out at the penguin nesting holes that they'd help build 18 months ago.

We had a good wait.

Four hours with little food, toys or techno games.

No wingeing, no boredom, only an underground growling of excitement as we watched a rare event unfold before us.

Haunui, an ocean waka, sailing around New Zealand spreading messages of sustainability, oceanic conservation and raising awareness of climate change was billed at arriving 'around the middle of the day'.

Locals came and went, ready to greet the waka hourua to the shores of our Golden Bay.

Schools of children played tag as their allotted time restraints kept them playing relay, teachers shuttling flotillas to and from school.

Some sat the day out, mixing the autumnal rays with a shot of conversation, making friends, talking about celestial navigation, maori culture and life.

Others left frustrated that the double hulled waka's crew of sixteen had not phoned, face booked or text through exact times of their ETA.

And two slightly weathered figureheads graciously dressed for the occasion in lilac hats, sat upon the prow of the rocky arm, accepting polite enthusiasms regarding their attire from my children.

Three pirates wooing ladies with their play-full endeavours, conversation skills and eagerness to watch their daddy flank a cultural symbolism of hope and peace.

Talk of overfishing, maori tales and how to catch the perfect crab seemingly had them hook, line and sinker.

Until the elders launched an attack on why they weren't in school.

"We don't go to school," piped up the eldest Peter Pan
"Mummy homeschools us," charged in the second.
"Bum bum hair!" anchored the third.


 "So, Mummy teaches you does she? What does she teach you?' asked the lilac hat.
"Mummy doesn't TEACH us," mentions the eldest. "She just lets us play."

Silence.

A bloodcurdling cry from an overhead seabird echoes my thoughts.

Allowing themselves to be steered into conversation by my charmingly honest three, the two proud ladies gradually fell apart as they found out that not only did the children learn life through living it, sailing the seas of practicality, action and knowledge, but my eldest had her own business and had more money than mummy!

Having then equipped their astounded audience with the finer details of household finances and how they were going to contribute to the family's economic path, the ladies forcefully stood up, brushed down their skirts and put on authoritative faces.

"Life's not about making money Miss, and if you went to 
school where you belong then you would know this."

Not to be taking prisoner, a rebuke from my daughter, "But we just want Daddy home. If he has to be the one making the money, then he's too tired to play. If we all make our own money doing what we love to do, then we can all play all the time."



With that, the figureheads disengaged themselves from their anchored place of prominence and set sail, sensing a battle they'd initiated had totally backfired in their wake.

Unperturbed, the sea-nymphs took up positions in their crows nest and hulla-balloed as their captain of the seas paddled close to Haunui, the waka hourua bringing her home to Golden Bay.