" Do you know how many people would do anything to be in our situation right now? Like a third of the world's population."
"Hhmmm. I don't know about that." the words absently drifted from my lips as I was engrossed by scintillating stars playing hide and seek among tendrils of silver clouds.
Looking back on this moment, it was one of the stupidest (possibly most dangerous) things I've ever done. At 1 am, as Sean kicked us out of his apartment after a Black Tie party, it was the best idea ever. Tullamore Dew still coursing through my veins, left my heart feeling restless. Even after hours of dancing, my heart was calling for something greater. As I struggled in my stilettos to walk down the steep paved path of Karaka bay, I never questioned my safety. I piggybacked on back of a man I had met that night (C.K.), stopping only to look at the moon hanging in the sky; a beacon summoning us to continue our adventure. I shivered uncontrollably standing on the shore, watching my best friend, Leanne, attempt to reach the Little Boat anchored just out of reach. When Leanne realized she would not be able to walk to the Little Boat without getting her black dress wet, she returned to Bronwyn and I huddled on the shore. C.K. brought us lifevests. While we fiddle with putting them on he swam to the Little Boat and brought it to shore for us to climb in without soaking our little black dresses.
Once we left the safety of the house and street lights, the ocean lit up reflecting the vibrancy of an unpolluted black velvet sky. C.K. was right, there millions of people who would never see the ocean or the night sky like this. They would never be out on a tiny pontoon at 2 am with no concern for their safety. At any moment the sea could have changed her mind, knocked us from the boat and carried us away. While the life jackets may have kept us afloat, no one would have found us before hypothermia had claimed us. Yet she was calm, caressing us with light sea mist; guiding us carefully to our destination. We were buzzed and vibrating with elation. The sea serenaded us, reassuring we meant to be like this. Sprawled out under the stars we were infinite, connected, calm.
When we got to the Big Boat anchored in a bay of Rangitoto Island, it was not the flash boat one would expect. It was a rusty fishing boat, like something out of a horror movie where the Psycho stashes his victims before hunting them like prey on the nearby deserted island. As we walked through the haul, I became Captain Obvious and stated that this boat was like a relic you would walk through in a Maritime Museum. Once the generator was on and we had found the comfort of the rec room all thoughts of the rustiness oldness of the boat were forgotten. We wrapped ourselves in thick Dunas and cuddled together. Once again C.K. was right. A third of the world would do anything to fall asleep safely in the comfort of a Big Boat bobbing in a bay, surrounded by love.
I am so lucky to be loved by the strangers I have turned into friends.