I have always been fascinated by rowing, ever since my son, when in high school decided to take it up. His first love was soccer but when the school headmaster put money before sense and dropped him from the team he said "I am giving it up. Andrew and I are going to try rowing instead."
He and Andrew did well. Even I had a go at rowing until business prevented me from developing further. However I did row with my son in a family competition and we came third. They joined a local rowing club and were selected as a pair for the NZ championships at Lake Karapiro. They won their grade and for about 3 years travelled all over the country taking part in competitions.
They, or he, could well have been chosen to represent their country if he hadn't decided to join the Police Force. That put paid to practice so he eventually became one of 4 launch masters on the Auckland Police Launch.
Only 6 years ago my partner and I decided to leave the big smoke and its traffic problems. We found a delightful 2 acre property nestled under the mountain and only 3 miles from the Lake Karapiro Rowing Centre. And that is where this story really begins.
During one of the frequent regattas held on the Lake I was driving home past the Rowing Centre when I came across a young man standing on the side of the road trying to hitch a ride. But if he wanted to go to a town he was going the wrong way.
I pulled up to see if he needed help and he said "Well if you have a spare bed for the night that would help."
I asked him why he couldn't sleep in his team tent or one of the chalets on the grounds and he told me his story:
His name was Craig, about 19 years old, good looking and a great physique as most rowers have. He rowed for a club based in New Plymouth some 4 hours drive south. But this being the final day and they had not qualified, the team were already on their way home.
"So why are you still here", I asked.
"Because of bloody Sandy." was his reply.
So I offered to put him up in one of the spare rooms at home (we have 4 bedrooms) if he wanted.
"If it's not too much trouble could Sandy come too?"
Now I know I am old (yet not old fashioned), and I naturally assumed Sandy was a boy. How wrong I was.
When I said, "O.K. there are plenty of beds," he asked if I could wait while he got Sandy. He trotted off into the mass of tents and caravans, while I lit up a smoke. The next thing I know is he is back at the car with Sandy.
As I said – rowers are tall, muscular, and in Sandy's case a full set of boobs that could poke your eyes out. Sandy was a female and what a gorgeous specimen of womanhood she was. Tall at 5 feet ten. long blonde hair, blue eyes and lips that were designed to be sucked, not kissed.
She was dressed in standard rowing gear – T shirt and spandex shorts. The legs were muscular but shapely and went a long way up. The shorts were so tight her mound stood out like a beacon.
I think I choked when Craig introduced us. However I explained that as my partner was away I would be doing the cooking and if they wanted to chance that they were welcome. Craig got into the front passenger seat and Sandy in the back after their kit bags had been shoved in the back of the Station Wagon.
We chatted on the way to my place and I found out that Sandy was from the big smoke (Auckland) where she already had a boy friend. These two had only met a couple of days ago at the regatta but it seemed it was love at first sight.
It didn't take long to get to my place and as we swept up the circular drive flanked by magnolia trees on one side and topiary willows on the other, they got their first sight of the house. Well actually it is not a house any more. It used to be an original 3 bedroom farmhouse: cream painted brick and red tiled roof. Previous owners had landscaped it and extended it to over 4000 square feet.
It stood on a knoll with triple steps leading to a tiled patio that almost surrounded the whole place. As we rounded towards the back the grape pergola, large palm trees flanking steps down to the lower garden always catch the eye. And then you realize how long it is as we approached the 4 car garage. It is no longer a house, it is a mansion.
Once we had parked and unloaded their kits I took them on a tour. They were impressed by the master bedrooms' 250 square foot space, the master guest bedroom, the clinic (bedroom 2) and the first bedroom opposite the guest bathroom with shower, bath and toilet and the separate toilet next to it. The first bedroom has a double and single bed in it so I suggested they park their gear there. They could sort out their own sleeping arrangements.
Then we entered the lounge with fireplace, two 3 seat couches and 2 matching wing chairs plus the 42 inch plasma TV. Then through to the dining room extending into the open kitchen, through to the 600 square foot sun room extending into a library with 5 seats.
I had wanted them to be impressed and they were. Living in the country also has its advantages. The property is surrounded by milk cow paddocks and the nearest neighbours are almost half a mile away. It is also so quiet and peaceful after the bustle and noise of big cities.
It was too early for an evening meal which I had decided would be B-B-Q, so I got some steak from the freezer to defrost. I asked if they would like anything to drink, being mindful of their training regime. They both answered in the affirmative: Craig a beer and Sandy a wine. I let them help themselves from the fridge and we settled in the sun room enjoying the warmth of a setting sun.
I noticed there were uneasy glances between them so decided it was best to get it out in the open or else the mood would be totally ruined.
"So how is it that you missed your ride Craig?" I thought would be a good way to open up the conversation.
"Well Sandy and I only met 3 days ago and we sort of became an item during the Regatta. But some of Sandy's team mates got pissed off because she was spending more time with me than with them."
Sandy added "There was a bit of jealousy because Craig is so spunky and some of them know I have a boyfriend at home. It became very unfriendly with some girls threatening to tell my boyfriend. This was just before our qualifying race and their comments got to me so much I didn't row as well as I should have. Instead of concentrating on the race I was thinking how I would handle Tom my boyfriend and worrying about Craig. As a result we didn't qualify and I got all the blame. The other girls just took off in the van before I knew it, so I was stranded."
Craig added "I couldn't just take off and leave Sandy behind alone. I know she could have begged a ride home with some other team but that didn't seem right so I stayed with her, and that's how I missed my ride home."
"Seems you two are in a bit of a pickle, because you will still have to get home somehow. I know a few people at the rowing so why don't I ring and see what can be organised. There will still be plenty of folk heading both ways tomorrow that could get you home," I replied.
They agreed it was a good idea so I got on the phone and had it arranged in just a few minutes. Almost immediately their mood lightened and I suggested they take a walk around the grounds before it got dark so they could have some privacy while I got dinner ready.
