What a wonderful time of the year this is to be celebrating centuries. Unless of course we consider another kind of 100, that being the number of deaths from drowning in this country, this year. That milestone was reached just two days ago, when a 50-year-old man was caught in a rip near Gisborne and died at the scene despite attempts to revive him. He was the sixth victim since Christmas Day of what was once known as "the New Zealand death".
I'm writing this on a beach, lucky me, with my own children and extended family splashing about in a full tide on a clear summer's day. I can only imagine what it would be like to lose a loved one in the water, to watch on helplessly as they are dragged out by some invisible, menacing ocean current, only to disappear after a desperate and horrific struggle. Drowning, I can tell you, is not the way I would wish to go.
I have had my share of scary moments in the water. I know, for instance, what it feels like to be caught in the deadly grip of an undertow and dragged several hundred metres from shore. I know, also, what it is like to flail about in the hissing foam of a set of large west coast waves, wondering if my breath will hold for another fight to the surface. I know, too, what it is like to pull someone from the water.
I know these things because I grew up at a beach. Moreover I know these things because when I was 8 I joined the Ruakaka Surf Club as a nipper and for the next 10 summers I spent almost every moment of my summer holidays at the club, or at any number of other clubs, competing against other kids my age, learning how not to drown and, most importantly, learning how to prevent others from drowning. It was the single best childhood I could have imagined. The only downside was that I occasionally had to wear Speedos, but at least you now know how I got my nickname.
Alas, my connection with the sport and with the service has lapsed in my adult years, but not a summer passes without me thinking about those endless days at the beach, and without me feeling immensely thankful that there are an amazing number of well trained volunteer and professional lifeguards looking out for us. As far as community services go - and surf lifesaving is very much a community service, in large part reliant upon the generosity of the community - I can't think of one better. Both of my children's grandfathers were surf lifesavers. One picked up a national title, the other picked up a wife. Not a bad return just for hanging out on a beach, really.
