The fish fry

Got back from my tripping around up north on Friday, had most of Saturday at home (long enough to make some plum jam), then stayed the night with Chris and we headed to Waipu Cove on Sunday for the Fish Fry.

Full marks to Mike Cunningham from the local newspaper The Advocate for organising this event, the first of its kind in New Zealand.  I'm sure there will be more.   There was a terrific collection of surfboards of all ages, all shapes and sizes.  Likewise the crowd was made up of surfers of all ages, shapes and sizes.  

There was one little star who caught my eye.  We first spotted him as he struggled to lift his surfboard from amongst those on display.  With a little help (not much, he was extremely independent) he managed to hoist it on to his head and trot off to his mother.  He would have been four years old at the most.   I'd guess three, close to four. 

What a delight it was to watch him, assisted by his Dad.  But, like before, there wasn't much assistance from Dad.  He would launch his little body on to the board, wriggle like a little worm until he had his body positioned in the middle of the board for balance, then paddle like a little machine out to his father.  Dad helped him turn the board and wait for a suitable wave.  

When his ride took him into the calm water he tried and tried to stand.

I didn't think this was the day he would master the art and was about to move away when he did it!  That's no mean feat for a little fellar!

 His name was Quinn.  I must remember that, he just could have a future in the surf.

 

Pretty young gull keeping a sharp eye on us eating out lunch.

These two only had eyes for each other.