Thursday 13th August, 2009
After my last Front page which recounted some of my early days leaping out of helicopters onto deer and being transported at the end of chains, cutting new pads for access to remote streams and the likes someone asked the question "What do you do for kicks now?"
It made me think of the things I have done and how I guess I have done a lot of things "on the edge". I never thought of it that way. I grew up as the son of an ex steeplechase jockey and horse trainer and breaking in horses and the like was what I did before and after school... it was just what we did. I got thrown a lot but apart from a real minor hairline pelvic fracture I never really got hurt. 
Then at seventeen I did my guiding thing and made a reasonable living and later was making good money for a man in his early 20's which lead me to drink and to think I could chat up any girl I met even if they had huge boyfriends and got into some fights with guys which probably rates among the more dangerous and stupid crap I've done and I have more scars from that than any of the things I've done that people think are "dangerous".
When I took a break from guiding to become an "on stage sex symbol music performer" we often got invited to play on the South Island rodeo circuit and I recall one Labour weekend where having rocked the house to some hard rocking country at the Methven rodeo they called over the loud speaker for anyone who wanted to have a go on a Bull. They had to run out the slack (The bulls not required) and they figured they might as well put halfwits on them as they did so. I had finished my gig and was about four Jack Daniels in so it seemed like a bloody good idea. I'd always wanted to ride a bull. Apparently, I was the perfect halfwit.
I was on my way when I heard the wee scary blond girl (Now my wife, then my girlfriend) call to my drummer... "The idiot wants to ride a bull"... (She's never been subtle) and my entire band descend on me to stop what they believe is foolishness. I don't understand but then Ron, (My drummer) explains to me that we have a gig in Christchurch that night that will pay the rent, groceries and power bills for the five people involved in my show for at least the next fortnight and if 2000 lbs of angry testosterone puts a hoof through my spleen we are all essentially F***D! So they drag me back to the car and take me to Christchurch where we do the aforementioned gig. All is well.
I went back to Taupo permanently shortly thereafter and guided for Poronui Ranch and for several years the most dangerous thing I did was mention on Sexyloops I guided for Poronui Ranch which actually scared the crap out of me at times more than the 2000lb Brahma they had hog tied for me in the shoots at Methven.... Then I decided, because Morsie said I would be sexier to women if I was a SWF guy, to move to the coast and concentrate on saltwater fly fishing. I had a heap of boating experience but didn't know the local area. As the local area included what is probably the longest bar crossing in New Zealand (There are a lot more dangerous, but few as long) it seemed prudent to get some local knowledge so I signed up and became a member of the local Coastguard Search and Rescue Crew. I thought they'd train us up and they do, I thought they'd be focussed on keeping us safe and they sure do that... but once "operational" you turn up to do the rescues that need to be done. Our Coastguard is purely voluntary and every Monday I turn up and we train in all manner of rescue techniques, first aid, search patterns, boat handling and everything we need to be safe at sea and to save lives at sea.
I kind of thought about the question "What do you do for kicks" when it was asked and I posed that question to the wee scary girl (Now my wife) as I believe my life is now pretty sedentary and she suggested posting the pic of the day which accompanies this. That was a scary tow... in five meter seas in a 35' boat towing a 57' 27 tonne yacht for five hours.... Yes I'm on that boat....
Today my pager went off and I raced to the Coastguard Headquarters to find we were called out to an Orca (Killer Whale) stranding in the harbour. Apparently the Whale had made a fatal error chasing a stingray but high tide sorted him out and away he went before we got there. I'm a bit pissed off because no matter how heroic I try to portray myself here I'd have looked like f****g superman if I had a pic of me tying a rope around Free Willy's tail!
What the hell does this have to do with flyfishing? Nothing... I'm just showing off... But I reckon all those people who say we are nuts trying to catch a 100lb Mako on fly should think about it and realise those things are still pussies compared to 2000lb Bulls with a halfwit on their back!
Clark
