Thanks for Teaching Me the Sea
Lately I’ve been thinking about where my love of the ocean really began. The answer’s simple: it came from Dad.
Dad grew up in Thames, here on the Coromandel, and the ocean has been part of his life for as long as he can remember. He was always active — fishing, diving, and later completing PADI dive training with Mum, back when being on or under the water became part of their life as a couple too.
It still is. To this day you’ll find the two of them out on their boat, line over the side, hoping for a snapper. The boats have changed over the years. So have the swimsuits. Their love of the ocean hasn’t. I can personally vouch for the swimsuits — more on that shortly.
Growing Up Around Boats
For me, boats, fishing, diving and being around the water were simply part of growing up. Dad taught me to drive a boat, to fish and dive, to watch the weather, and to have a healthy respect for the ocean.
You don’t think of those things as lessons when you’re a kid. You’re just spending time with your dad. You watch, you listen, you have a go, you get it wrong, and Dad tells you what you did wrong — a habit he’s kept up for roughly the next 40 years.
Dad’s always known best. Whether that’s actually true remains an occasional cause for discussion. But the annoying thing about getting older is discovering how often he was right after all.
The Year Dad Became Mr Hahei
Dad’s also part of the Ocean Leopard commentary these days. As we cruise the coast towards Hahei, I tell guests our family’s connection to this stretch of the Coromandel goes back long before Ocean Leopard existed — Mum and Dad met here on holiday as teenagers, and we kept coming back every year after.
Then there was the summer Dad became a local celebrity. I was about 12 when he entered the Mr Hahei competition — in a pair of budgie smugglers. As a 12-year-old, watching your father go up against a pack of much younger men would’ve been embarrassing enough on its own.
He won. Crowned Mr Hahei, entirely unbothered by what his deeply embarrassed son thought of the whole thing.
At the time, I’d have preferred it never be mentioned again. These days, I tell boatloads of strangers about it. Time changes you.
The Things You Understand Later
The older I get, the more I realise how much of what I know about the ocean came from Dad — not just driving a boat or handling a line, but the judgement that comes from years spent around the sea. Watch the weather. Respect the conditions. Know your limits. Understand the ocean will always be bigger than you.
These days I’m the one responsible for a boat and everyone aboard it, running Cathedral Cove boat tours out of Whitianga Wharf on the same coastline that’s been part of our family’s life for generations. Every so often I catch myself doing something exactly the way Dad taught me. I don’t always tell him that. It would only encourage him.
Being Dad
I’m a dad myself now, to Olivia, Ari and Brodie. That’s the biggest change of all — once you have your own kids, you understand your parents differently.
The things Dad gave me had nothing to do with money: his time, his knowledge, his confidence in letting me have a go, and a love of the ocean that’s stayed with me ever since. My kids are growing up around boats and beaches too. What they do with that is theirs to decide — but I hope it gives them the same confidence to try things, get them wrong, and try again.
Mostly, I hope that when they’re grown, they think I was as good a dad to them as Dad’s been to me. Though for the record — I’ve never won a beach competition in budgie smugglers. Yet.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad. Thanks for the boats, the diving, the fishing, the advice (wanted and otherwise), and for teaching me the sea.
Give Dad a Day on the Water
Some of the best things our dads give us aren’t things at all — they’re the days we spend together. So if Dad doesn’t need another pair of socks this Father’s Day, bring him out on the water instead.
Spend a couple of hours exploring Cathedral Cove and the Mercury Bay coastline aboard Ocean Leopard — sea caves, volcanic cliffs, marine wildlife, and plenty of stories along the way. You might even hear a few more about Dad.