iKirst

I have a story to tell..

When I was 17, I was lucky enough to be selected as a 6th form leader for a High School camping trip to Mayor Island. The selection, of course, had nothing to do with the fact that I had demanded such a position with the teacher in charge. It also had nothing to do with the fact that he was also the dance troupe teacher, and I was his chief choreographer and dance lead Regardless of that status, he decided that I was fit for the job of bossing the 4th formers about.

The only way to the Island is by boat. The poor wee 4th formers all got shoe-horned into a ferry, whilst the 6th formers (well, 2 of us) got top placing on a Tri-marang. Score! we decided to save the engine and sail the 4 hours. By the time we arrived with sun kissed shoulders – all wind swept and interesting from the sea breeze – and bid farewell to our Dolphin escort, the ferry was unloaded and camp was set up. Our timing was impeccable

I could tell you many stories of this camp, but one in particular stands out.

On the finest day, the teacher in charge felt it necessary to explore the island by way of a six hour trek around the out skirts, then through the center of the crater. I had done this 2 years prior, so took it upon myself to egg on the short folk (4th formers) and make it fun for them. Fun, somehow involved turning myself into a clumsy oaf. Not unusual, I think I’m quarter clown. I managed to scone myself on the exact same over hanging tree I had wiped myself out with when I was 15.  Not a bright lass on the best of occasions.

The last 30 minutes were down hill, and even after 5 and a half hours of tramping, everyone still managed to find energy to race back to camp. The 4th former I was with, Ben, bailed off into the bushes. He couldn’t keep up with my Gazelle like strides Ok, ok, more like a Daschund with my legs going doubly fast. Another 6th former shot past me, then slowed to let me catch, then darted off again. I wasn’t impressed at his cockiness and used what extra bursts of steam I had left to fly on past. Cross country training came in handy after all Unfortunately, when I had managed to flit on past and pull away at dramatic speed, my ankle thought better of the work out. It curled inwards and my leg collapsed. My entire weight on my ankle. CRUNCH!

A very un-glamorous pile of limbs was soon sliding down the hill. Nice one, Kirst
Two of the 6th form lads very kindly carted me down to camp 5 meters away. Yes, we were that close.

The camp medic had feared I had snapped my ankle and was close to arranging an airlift for me to Tauranga Hospital.

As luck would have it, it was still securely in place, it was just seriously sprained. The entire outter of my foot was a lovely bluey magenta black emsemble, and any weight even slightly threatened to be placed on it would see my face contort in forboding pain.

I was given strick foot elevation rules and ordered to stay put. Can you say Bored!?!

Madam of the Manor decided sitting about was a tad boring, so I ventured out into one of the Kayaks, leg askew and dangling into the crystal blue lagoon type bay, and gracefully glided back and forth across the water. Realistically, I more likely looked like I was completely clueless as to how to sail in a Kayak.. My tan was working up a lovely golden treat, though

Day two and I was boreder than all bored type things put together. I managed to make my away around camp on a make shift walking stick. Showering took a lot less glamour, and a lot more dependancy on the flimsy shower walls. Dressing was just an embarassement. (stop imaging it!)

I noticed the beach vollyball net was firmly tethered to a stake a and a tree, and decided to instigate a game against any willing participants. Apparently, the thought of facing up opposite a physically imparired oponent was too hard to resist, teams were easy to find.

Picture this, though.. for some reason they opposing team thought it was amusing to keep serving toward me. To their astonishment though, I hit the damn thing every time. I’d leap.. I’d use as much force as I could muster to make palm engage ball, and send it flying over the net… I’d lose my make shift walking device in the process, and I’d land flat on my face.

Oh, how they laughed…

By day 4 I was back to a standard limp, and ready to take action. I had returned back from an orienteering trip with a fellow 6th former and our team of 4th formers. I tootled over to my tent to get changed, I tripped and fell face down again… a tent peg had mysteriously appeared. I discovered the entire tent, and it’s contents had been turned about 180 degrees.

I must have looked mad, because all the 4th formers instantly came up and pointed blame on each other, then promptly turned it back the correct way. Secretly, I thought it was hilarious.

Oh, how I laughed…

I have a small diary somewhere, collated by all the students, about that very trip. I must find it, and see if I can dig out more little camp stories.

Until then, it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas, eh. Have a grand one!

This entry was posted on Monday, December 15th, 2008 at 8:59 am and is filed under iDid. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.