A Story By Vanessa
The most wonderful part of living on an island as a child was the beach. It was our playground and we spent many happy hours playing in the sea and on the sandy beaches. We could all swim like fish, and played in rough and calm sea alike. Friends were easily made, and friendships easy to maintain; one just showed up at the beach and other kids would be there.
We played at a variety of beaches, but Lower Bay was our main haunt. Sometimes we were dropped off for an afternoon of play, for someone’s parent would mind us right? There was only one rule: we were not allowed to go to Princess Margaret Beach.
Today Princess Margaret Beach is lovely to go to, but at some point in my childhood it was forbidden because of the men who were squatting there. We could not go because these men were unknown and thus dangerous. We imagined all sorts of things about them. So of course we went. Sometimes we went only to say we had gone, jumping in the sea and then hiking back up and over to Lower Bay.
One time in particular we hiked around the cliff edge. The band of kids that day comprised of my sister and I, Bret and Ross, Freddy, and a dog named Nina. Ross and Freddy were around five or six, I think. We had drifted down that end on a foam bed you could rent from De Reef. We dragged this raft around and up the cliff. At the start there were rocks and boulders to walk over, but gradually we had to climb up. The cliff was sharp and crumbly in some places, for sure not ideal for a bunch of kids in bathing suits. I have no idea how we dragged the raft up there, but we did. The pillow head of the raft had a hole through it, so you could stick your arm through to drag it, or to haul it across cliffs one armed (obviously). About half way around the cliff the cliff face becomes smooth, making any further progress impossible. The only choice was to turn back, or jump.
Of course we jumped! Wha’ wrong wid you?! When I look back now I think it must have been dangerous, because where we jumped was a small pool surrounded by shallow reefs. Jumping too far one way or the other would have been disastrous. The water must have been calm, otherwise you would be flung against rocks. We threw the raft into the sea, and then threw the poor dog. Ross and Freddy followed, and when they were safely on the raft the rest of us jumped. We swam the rest of the way, pulling the raft with Ross, Freddy and the dog atop. We rested on the beach, pleased with our adventure. Then dragged the raft back over the hill to Lower Bay, our parents none the wiser!