“That song almost ruins being on a boat. That sucks.” Pete observed before we even left the pier.

I know what song hes talking about, but Im scared to say it, just incase it gets stuck in my head while actually on a boat. Which is, of course, a worst case scenario.

An hour later and Nat cant get any closer to the edge of the boat. She’s on the very front, holding on with one hand, rodeo style, as we roll from wave peak to trough. Unlike a stoic bull rider, she is squealing with joy at each near soaking. Tempting fate, the spray blows over her and hits the rest of us, who are quite literally unable to stand, partly because of laughter and partly because the sea was really picking up.

We’d just passed the albatross colony, which was surrounded by a seal colony, near the shag colony. A random penguin was also in there. Pooping on itself. Classy. Another classic example of the ample New Zealand wildlife.

The light house at the mouth of the harbor was almost too much, our little weekend sailing trip had become a full on photographers wet dream. Linzay set the camera to rapid fire, while the boys helped man the jibs (if thats even he term) setting sail on the low seas. I can see how rich people get used to this kinda thing.

50,000 cups of tea later, as the sun set, a couple of Barracuda for dinner and we trolled our way back to the pier, young and old everyone sat in quiet contentment.

“This ain’t Seaworld, this is as real as it gets.” Damn that song and its catchy tune. I ain’t above it. Sailing is awesome.

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