Te Arai. I’ve never dived there, despite professing to hate it. Just Call Me Doris would have none of my lame excuses. Okay, if I’m gonna waste my time, at least I might as well do it diving… Sentiment I would come to regret as Doris locked the brakes in the fog just before the Give Way sign. Well, there goes breakfast – best not show the newbie my illness Doris had impressed me. He wanted to go for a shorey. I don’t normally take newbies out, but I thought why not. So, as a warm up he’d survived a 5 hour swim in the Bay of Islands the previous weekend, and opted not to shoot a 25kg plus kingy, as had I, er, “opted” to let two 8kg snapper by, er, shooting short. How hard could Te Arai be, anyways? Yeah, well, 7am, feeling crook as a dog, Doris, from the base of the cliff by Mermaids Pool, ruled out entry from there as we where hit with spray from the pounding surf – just below. Shivering with cold, I worked on what to say to talk him out of it, while still appearing to be staunch. I crafted a response. “Well this sucks”. To which Doris replied, “well I’m diving”. “What a pussy” I thought, contemplating further excuses for not going diving after a 4am start. Needless to say, “we both” opted for a beach surf launch. I’m guessing like the Yappies do. After being smashed by a series of pounding waves, we made out way out in the shty, murky, crp conditions to “the rock” under half a click out Don’t think about sharks. I really, really didn’t. The first rock held baitfish on the northern side in a tightly packed school with only rat kings in attendance. The second rock was much more interesting. It held sweep and a range of small baitfish, gently swaying in the current, while I was being smashed at the top, untying the float line from the rocks. A ray swam in at me, and morphed into sizeable bronzy. I glided down after him, locking on the target, for fun of course, the bronzy thought the better of it and left. Half an hour later, the washing machine was really working it’s magic “I’ll make my way in Doris”. He was clearly struggling, and managed barely a couple more hours working the spot. The waves worked me. I might as well have surfed my plat in. I admired my small kahawai. Well that was worth it I relaxed in the car park, sunning myself, while Doris worked. A Korean couple pulled up in a new Mercedes 4x4. I surveyed the beautiful vista, the stunning white sandy beach, the Hen, the Chicks, Whangerei Heads, only to turn and be greeted with the “brownest of eyes” as he got changed into 1980s snorkelling gear – ya know, bare toes sticking out of short rubber fins. Well, there goes breakfast. Did I mention I hate Te Arai? Driving home, Doris decided another adventure was up for grabs in Leigh – I, relegated to a return to Auckland to pick up the kids from school. Still fresh in my mind, the phone call the previous day from the school receptionist “your kids are waiting for you” at 20 past 3, as if assigning some responsibility, rung in my ears. “I’ll drop you off”, I offered, as Olenz was diving also and could take Doris back. A quick phone call to the Missus as I sadly pulled out of the car park after dropping of Doris “do you mind picking up the kids Love?” Sure enough the Lady approved (she’s the best). Game on. Doris made another classic newbie mistake, and offered to walk around, then wait and meet me at the white sandy beach once I’d swum around, before we swam off hand-in-hand to the weedline. “Sure” I replied. I’d wait. At the middle of the weedline. Newbies. Phiff. Couldn’t find Doris, spent some time looking for crays, then spotted my yellow plat that I’d lent to Doris in the middle of the weedline. “Dog” I thought. Poor form as I swam to catch up and pass him. T’was as they say “going off”. Baitfish in tightly packed balls everywhere. Crays in the crevices, warm water (20-22 degrees) and vis clear enough to work the weedline from the surface (I’ve heard this is what other lazy divers do). So we proceeded to work the line. I thought I’d show Doris what do to, but he couldn’t keep up as I took off while he was stuffing around with a John Dory on his spear. Yet another rookie mistake. I spooked an absolute ripper of a Boary nosing in a sandy channel that left a Mach 3, couldn’t find him. Schools of squidies, juvenile snapper and trevs. The weedline was, did I mention, going off? Ran into Olenz – introductions at 10m. He’d skewered a JD, and as fate would have it had shot a small trev, allowing me to graciously bolt ahead of him, and hello, boary on the sand. Head shot then… “Hey Doris, I was calling you over to shoot this, but you didn’t respond”. I had to shoot it you see. What followed was a very, very enjoyable dive. Pulled a Campese “goose step” on a big plate of JD at 10m, and brained a male boary – surprised how hard I pulled the trigger, such repressed anger. Pushed at 5 knots back through the channel I couldn’t believe it when below three kingies were “throwing up” shells on the bottom. I duck dived down quickly, but was swept over them in the current as I descended, so grabbed the bottom and threw up some shells in the current. Head down, hold your breath, keep calm – I gripped – the current ripping, the goodie king swept in, to my port side, but, too far away. A quick kick out while peeling a round, which fell tantalisingly. Stink. Whoops, out of breath, I broke the surface, just. Close one – don’t try this at home kids Doris had clearly learned some valuable lessons from me while I was 200m away during the dive, and had slotted “a zebra” as he was to describe his first boary and another plate for a JD. Really stoked for him. He’s ticking of the “firsts” at an alarming rate. It’s pretty motivating being out with someone at the start of the “list” As for me. What can I say. I hate Te Arai - Snoop