Mug punters on the ferry from Paihia across to race start at Russell, known formerly as "the hell hole of the Pacific". This lot apparently doesn't realise it's changed since the old days. Russell now positions itself as "Romantic Russell". We've never known anyone called Russell to be romantic. Not that we'd be in a position to know, perhaps, although, come to think of it, Russell Jackson, up at Forster, always has a coterie of lady swimmers hanging off him. Thank you to the kind lady who smiled for the oceanswims.com Brownie Starflash-in-a-plastic bag.

Where do former Prime Minister's wives go when they stop being Prime Ministers' wives? They go to Russell, in the Bay of islands, and become milkos. They eschear sheep and deliver milk.

Mean, fightin', eccentric... who's the odd person out? see below.

... further below. In the meantime, we met Haggis, 2nd right, who is a science teacher who really knows how to fill a void. Haggis has a theory about why people cark it in ocean swims. Click here to find out, and leave your two penn'th, as well. Haggis was dismissive of wetties, which is why he was attracted to us, or most of us, anyway. His cobber, Michael, to his right, is not so concerned.

	Ever wondered where people who wear glasses keep them when they swim? How would you react if someone told you to "stick them in yo ass"? Frisco's Gary Emich takes them literally. When he swims, he takes his spectacles and...
	... shoves them in his ass.

Part III - Dissertation on future directions in English in the South Pacific

In earlier chapters, we have speculated on how the different forms of English have developed in Stray'a and New Z'lland. To date, this has been a relatively shallow essay which has focussed on current differences. For example, in New Z'lland culcha, the indigenous Maori have their own theocratic belief system which underpins their culcha. One of the elements that brings Yrpeen and indigenous New Z'llanders together - the pakeha with the Maori - is a set of deitetic characters known as 'llbliks. English in New Z'lland is evolving so rapidly, indeed, that only two years ago, these people -- more spirits than real people -- were known as Ollbleks, but usage has changed again already. And this itself is a key to understanding the future directions of English in New Z'lland.

New Z'llanders have set up these deities as national protectors. Visitors to New Z'lland in winter, for example, will be greeted at ports of entry in Auckland, Wellington, Christchurch, wherever it might be, with incantations from local customs officers that serve to warn off miscreants and infidels. The chants go along the lines of, "'ll'bliks'll k'llya". Visitors have never quite been able to work out this curious phraseology, but the meaning, the warning inherent in them is clear from the tone with which it is delivered, indeed in a brooding, Deliverance-like mumble, such that the visitor knows that, whilst the chant is prompted by their arrival, it is directed at invoking "action" by their Gods.

New Z'llanders are fiercely religious; their faith in these god-like figures -- figures which those in more advanced societies would dismiss over dinner parties with flippant asides -- is unshakeable, much like most undeveloped societies which have only one cultural thread running through them. In New Z'lland, it's the cult of the "'ll'blik".

But that recent change, from "Ollblek" to "'ll'blik" is the pointer which guides us today. Whilst it can be said of Stray'ns that we have lost our consonants, so have New Z'llanders lost their vowels. We have made this point before. The short "a" sound becomes a short "e"; the short "e" becomes a short "i", the short "i" becomes a short "u", and the short "u" becomes a short "_", which is to say, no sound at all. It's only a matter of time before those sounds progress to their natural conclusion, thus - "a" becomes "e" becomes "i" becomes "u" becomes "_". At which point, the only short vowel they have left will be "o", and goodness knows where that is heading. (Your contributions would be welcome at this point - click here).

Similarly, in the longer forms of the vowels, the long "e" ("ee") becomes "i" becomes "u" becomes "_". The long "a" ("ay") becomes short "e" becomes "i" becomes "u" becomes "_".

And so on.

We enjoy what have become our annual visits to New Z'll'nd, Aoteoroa, the land of the long lost vowel.

The start, Russell to Paihia, a swim that we reckon should run from Russell to Waitangi, on Hobsons Beach, recognising the shared Anglo and Maori culchural heritage of this area. Water temp. was 20-21 deg C, which is plenty warm enough to do away with those silly wetties. But New Zealanders love them, and the event's sponsors include a wettie company, so there you go.

Shark feeding time: mass migration of seals off the beach at Russell. Sharks like seals. We reckon ocean swimmers in wetties look just like seals. There's one smart one amongst them.

Mrs Sparkle is a good girl, sometimes, always sighting, right from the start off the beach at Russell. And as she swims past, she always is smiling. Must like this caper.

New Zealand is one of those rustic places where men and women shower together, communally. It's an old Maori tradition, along with tatts.

Bougainevillea in Paihia.

Our guide through the Waitangi Treaty site was Ngati Kawa, a severalanth generation Waitangi local. But you could tell that. We reckon the Bay of Islands swim should run from Russell to Hobsons Beach, the landing beach at Waitangi where the poms came ashore to "negotiate" the Treaty of Waitangi. Russell was the original British "capital" in NZ, where sailors on shore leave would cavort, ho around, brawl and get up to all other kinds of hi-jinks. A place to be avoided, it became known as "the hell hole of the Pacific".

Swim start at Romantic Russell, although by this time it's a day post-swim day, looking across the bay towards swim finish at Paihia. Looks idyllic, to be sure, although water was not as clear as we'd expected. They'd had little rain in the area, and it's estuarine. Water actually was clearer at Cockatoo Island. Not much in the way of stingers, though. We struck one: felt like we'd put our hand through a gossamer net, a hair net, almost ticklish, then the tingling spread across our wrist like Tinker Bell spreading fairy dust. It turned to a gentle sting which stuck with us for a couple of hundred metres. Not much to write home about, but almost a surreal sting experience.

One of the characteristics of ocean swimmers is that, at every opportunity, they talk stroke. This pic may look posed. It's not (well, we just got them to do again what they'd just been doing, and when they know the Brownie Starflash-in-a-plastic bag is on them, they do things differently, eg they smile. Mind you, Roy of Swan smiles most of the time, perhaps the most delightful travelling companion in all of literature. Roy Swan travels usually with Lea Hill, hence LeaRoy from Swan Hill. This time, Lea was sick and couldn't get to NZ, hence Roy of Swan.)

Proof incontrovertible that New Zealand is behind Stray'a: in Russell, a jacaranda is in full bloom on December 13, almost a month since its peers in Stray'a have moved on to full blooded greenery. Stray'a has Mauvember, NZ has Maucember.

Colonial church in Romantic Russell, once "hell hole of the Pacific", now idyllic retreat for Kiwis to catch up with their roots.