Lunch with a friend ensured that I went in the direction of the city.
Wandering around the waterfront ahead of the lunch appointment, I was sitting with a coffee at the Karaka cafe in the Wharewaka (the house built to house some ceremonial waka or maori canoes). Foolishly, my camera was still in the camera bag. I heard chanting and saw a waka coming into the lagoon. The white paddles were flashing in unison and I scrambled to undo the clips on the bag. By the time the camera was out, the waka was coasting to a stop. This is a glass fibre waka with floatation chambers and none of the mystique or history that usually go with a genuine carved waka. Nevertheless the teamwork and discipline required to use it are the same, and it turned out that this was a group of people from a large corporate, and to my great surprise, one of them was my son-in-law, Vasely.
Winter sunshine looked better than it felt with the temperature around 8 degrees C. The old steam crane Hikitia was sitting alongside the Taranaki St Wharf, where she is undergoing a long restoration project.
There are large buffer beams separated from the wharf by piles, and despite my woeful anxiety about standing near edges, I peered down into the water. There was a lot of suspended matter in the water but the colours of the weed and the water were really lit up by the bright sun overhead.
In another area of the wharf, there is a gap with a platform from which people could fish or whatever. Reflections of the surrounding piles reminded me of the geometric paradoxes painted by M.C. Escher.
That’s all for now