Saturday 10th November – Te Awanga, near Hastings

We woke up to a sunny day, feeling determined to spend some time relaxing. I managed to sit and read for about an hour before I started getting fidgety and ready to do something.

A couple of the women that I’d been speaking to passed us on the way to do some whitebait fishing in the sea. I watched for a while as Di wrestled with a giant net and helped Judy count up the fish she’d caught. I found it really hard to touch the flibbely, white, wriggly things at first but I kept trying. When they asked me if I wanted a go I jumped at the chance – if only so I could have a go at wearing the waders!

With the force of the waves and the size of the net it was actually quite a workout. Di came out to help me nd we lasted about 30 seconds before we were both on our bums and soaked. We did get the hang of it though and, with a bit of mimicry of a guy further down the shore, we were soon collecting 20 or more per batch, plus the odd mussel here and there. Eventually we all got a bit tired and took our catch to clean and sort them.

Matt had wanted to try whitebait patties but we kept missing the chance. Judy and Di had owned a fish and chip shop before giving it up for a life of fruit picking and travelling and so they insisted that they would cook them up and bring them for us to try.

Matt had a go at cleaning up and cooking the mussels. They were big ones, though nothing in size compared to the shell of the giant horse-mussel that I’d seen on the beach – it was bigger than my foot! I tried really hard to like them but they were just a bit too sandy for my taste.

When Judy and Di brought the patties over a little while later I had lost my bottle a little bit. I’d eaten the mussels without chewing them too much or looking at them too hard and now I had to eat something that was looking at me. I didn't expect them to de-head or fillet something so small but I’m not sure I was prepared to eating so many whole fish in each bite. They tasted alright but I agreed with Di, catching them was infinitely more fun than eating them.

Over the course of the day, we met several of the permanent campground residents and were invited to spend the evening with them at Dave’s place. Mike had told us earlier that they made their own rum and we were quite impressed. It turns out that they actually made their own alcohol and then added flavours to it. 

The flavours for the night were rum and kahlua – which weren't actually so bad, if a little synthetic.

The problem came with the conversation. We thought that the Australian’s were racist but the Kiwis are just as bad. Gathered with 6 other people who had been so kind to us, we weren't in situation to challenge every comment, but we made no secret of wincing every time Dave made a joke we weren't comfortable with. I really don’t how people can be so nice in general and yet be so awful about certain groups of people. Matt attributes it to fear and I think he’s right but it still leaves a really bad taste in my mouth.