The Dilemma of the Fluffy Pink Cloud/Photo Album: 10

Our last 2 days have been incredibly full and today , being Thrsday (is it?), is a day of rest. Day before yesterday we wandered around Paihia. Having arrived the night before we were intent on finding an outfitter willing to take us on a sea-kayaking trip. Having in mind our enjoyable day in Cable Bay on the South Island we looked about for potential guides and found our way to a bloke named Dan. Now both Michele and I could have payed attention to our initial impressions of Dan, but alas, we did not. In time those initial impressions seem to confirm the following events. As we arrived at the put-in Dan explained he was taking us on a 'special' paddle. A longer paddle than usual (all told it was 14 miles in about 5.5 hours), and in addition it was in a somewhat unfamiliar area. Once on the water Dan explained that he'd been sucked out to sea on a surfboard in this very area 2 months ago, and was luckily found by his friends just as the sun set, foreboding eh? As it happened we surfed the kayak (Kenneth and Michele in a double) for a bit before heading out to circle the targeted island. We yelled ahead to Dan to wait up, he stopped and apologized for 'motoring ahead' explaining he'd just gotten the 'urge' to do so. I suddenly realized how young Dan was, and got a itching feeling about the dependability of his decision making. When I asked where we were headed he said to look at the map in front of me, there was no map, Dan said, "oh well!" As we neared the point we were to round a storm cloud materialized overhead. It didn't rain a bit, but the cooling of the water from the cloud started to cause quite large swells(I guess anout 2 meters). As Dan wandered around (out of site) to pick mussels off the rocks (which we had for dinner that night), Kenneth's panic button began to be pushed. It was unclear to both of us where we were headed and what the timeframe was. After some coercing Dan continued on, exhibiting some more 'urge' for 'motoring ahead' and paddling through tight archways out of sight where we were unwilling to paddle. As the tension began to ease with the moving away of the raincloud Dan became uneasy, after answering his cell-phone he noticed what time it was, and though he promised a quick snack on a beach he emphasized that time was tight. After we scarfed down some juice and chips we headed across the last bay as the sun began to turn pink (skinny pink clouds, not big fluffy ones). Though it was hard not to stop and gaze for awhile I finally realized where we were and how much further we had to go. We were just passing the waves we'd been surfing on and already the coastline was backlit and dark. As the sun set Dan seemed unsure of where exactly the car was, and Michele and I were moments from insisting we land the boats because the dark was nearly absolute when someone in the parking lot turned on their headlights and we could se the way. Absolute darkness fell as we loaded the boats. All worked out well, but it was VERY close to being uncomfortable. Michele and I congratulated ourselves with warm showers, a movie and broccoli with mussels at a nearby hostel. That night after doing laundry I drove until about 1 AM to the next town up so we could board a bus that morning to Cape Reinga, the Northern point of the North Island where the Tasman Sea and Pacific Ocean meet. The next day (yesterday) was fun-filled and delirious. Sore from our paddle (and not quite enough sleep) we viewed the coast and Kenneth, for one, vowed to visit again -- the waves far below echoing so deeply you could feel it affect your heartbeat. On the way back we got to sled down giant sand-dunes (highly recommended), and our guide informed us of various tidbits. On our drive that afternoon to Paihia the sun began to set and Michele decided to pull over and ask me to take some pictures of the 'big fluffy pink cloud'. After I'd been taking pictures for about 10 mintues Michele said
"Umm, which cloud are you taking pictures of?"
"The big pink one, over there," I said.
"No not that one, this one!!" Michele explained in exasperation.
"And now it's too late, that one's not pink anymore, before it was really big and fluffy and REALLY pink, now it's just big and fluffy and kind of pink!!" Her disappointment was becoming all to clear to me now. Michele just couldn't understand how I'd thought she meant a different big fluffy cloud than she had intended. I felt admittedly at fault, explaining that I had been taking pictures of a pink cloud, and I was sorry it was the wrong one. I try to take from this a lesson. Namely that there are all kinds of pink fluffy clouds in the world, and you can't assume that someone else's pink fluffy cloud is the same as yours, it's a dangerous business.