Mahia is ours.
It is Hawke's Bay.
Rocketland.
The place I daresay even Kim Jong Un is now very much aware of because anywhere that can send a very large rocket into the weightless and silent landscape of space has to be very special, and respected.
And old Kimmy boy will also be very much aware of the name Peter Beck — the man who lit the great fuse of Rocket Lab.
He'll probably even contemplate giving him a call, given he likely has aspirations to make his little rockets go a little higher.
That remarkable launch, which made for equally remarkable on-line coverage, put us on the map — and Gisborne too I suppose.
The image that stuck with me was the very distant outline of Portland Island below as the great roaring brute soared so high and so very fast.
I have seen Portland Island on several occasions, but never from about 20km up.
I could only imagine what went through the minds of those very early space pioneers who were sent out of this world inside confined little capsules.
Mind you, from the backward inclined and harnessed seat they were strapped to they wouldn't have seen anything until they were in orbit and weightless, so chances of spotting Portland Island were indeed slim.
Beck has been enthused about rockets since he was a kid, and his thirst for propulsion was best summed up during his teenage years when he rebuilt an old Mini which he warmed up a tad by fitting it with a turbocharger.
He was a skilled engineer and toolmaker who followed his dreams and ambitions of being part of the rocket-building family.
And he's done it.
Like many kids, I also had a longing for space and rockets and would watch the sky for anything that moved.
But back in the early '60s there was nowhere near the amount of moving hardware up there that there is now.
Go out on any clear night and look up and within the hour you'll have seen a fast-moving light.
One night, many orbiting years ago, my son and I tallied up nine in about 90 minutes.
I also pursued the thirst for horsepower although I had little or no skills in building or attaching anything to my succession of bikes.
I opened the exhausts a little, had bigger jets put in, and that was about it.
Oh, and I knew a bloke who had access to aviation fuel so that occasionally found its way into the tank.
That stuff was brilliant ... my 750 could nip at the 900s.
I also toyed with rockets - every Guy Fawkes when skyrockets were part of the legal fireworks tender.
We modified three or four into one monster and it went pretty well although after climbing to about 75m it sort of rolled and did a U-turn ... and hammered back down into the beach.
And one time a mate and I built a sort of sled out of an empty tin can which we cut and bent into the shape required to slide along a railway line.
It seemed to work, as it would scoot along for several metres after we gave it a sharp shove.
So yep, we used it at the vehicle for a horizontal-travelling skyrocket.
It worked ... for about 15m before it jammed on one of the track links and burned itself out.
So my chances of getting a job with Pete's rocket crew are at best minimal.
I have the ambition but sadly lack the skills.
But I can proudly say I live in the province where rockets are launching and where the astonishing technology required to create and operate them is well honed and internationally acclaimed.
And as I noted in my last missive, we need have no fear of any perceived threat from North Korea here in the Bay.
For if Kimmy was listening to that errant news report that emerged in the wake of the launch then only the people of Gisborne need worry.
Because he'll go there.
