Pink hard bumpy outside. It is easy to mistake for a rock. I’m talking about Paua just so you know.
So anyway, we were fishing at camp with a few parents and our lines kept on getting caught and snagged in the rocks so Dan, one of the parents, swam out to retrieve a line and he came back[without the line] saying that he had seen tonnes of paua.
I shot my feet thinking, “Finally!” “I’ve always wanted to do this,” I thought.
Our teacher, Mrs Fielder said, “If you sit on this fallen down log you get a go quicker.” so my rocket feet jumped up and my arms heaved themselves upwards and I zoomed over there. It was like I threw some of Harry Potter’s instant darkness powder I was so fast.
Then came the wait. It was so long. Waiting waiting and a little more waiting!
Hannah went for her turn. Time passed and went and in a little while it was my turn. As soon as I felt the hypothermic coldness, I dived under. When I got a little further out to sea I felt the rip gently pulling me across. It was like I had a dozen small turtles pulling at my body.
Beneath the surface the Paua were cowering amongst the gently swaying seaweed, clinging to the rocks for fear of the current. The knife had a hard time getting them off but Dan and I were on a mission and we would not come back empty handed. With Dan’s expertise, we dived down with knife at the ready. Ready to prize off the biggest.
Dan handed the paua to me to check its size. It clung to my hand, searching for safety, as I held it. But all I had in mind was getting them back to shore and learning how to gut them and prepare them for cooking.
Rob got them ready for dinner, with the addition of a few special ingredients. Paua fritters ... a succulent, mouth watering delicacy.
