Saturday morn, walk the pier
Marina so busy, makes fishermen dizzy
But not this family,
fishing is bliss, not to be missed
When a offer goes out
its hook, line and sinker, tucker and bait
Set sail for possies renowned
They sit it out, in hot searing sun
A strong aroma, Bonito and squid
As the sun goes down, they return with a frown
Smelly bait, an empty plate.
Looking up, at a rig so tall
Reaching past, the goals of all that are old
Reaching tall with passion, So grand,
we seek the tallest
The ultimate goal, was taken first
From a country afar, where it had only
Left, for one spar
We took it second, on home turf straight
For it was easy, Five times, with no brakes
We meet once more, on February dawn
To thrash it out, for there is no doubt
NZ, will be proud
Two thousand and three
Who will it be?
At Omokoroa landing, they all start to arrive.
Trucks, cars, occasional Tractor too.
They’re all in a line, that some call a que, But
I forgot to say , there’s a bus here too
Far in the distance, a vessel, comes to view,
defiantly a barge, pushing up tide, slow but sure,
Said to arrive some time round four.
As it touches land, starter motors sing.
Its time to board, this enormous thing.
As we thrust off, the ground seems to move,
this is not, what a car is meant to do.
It seems all foreign, stranger than strange.
Just can’t wait,
to hit Terrapherma again.
Omokoroa slipway, a place for small ships.
Where Allen and Murry, will haul out your boat,
our set it afloat and Stan the man, will lend a hand.
But at the end of the day, they’ll sit in the bay, and
tell stories of day’s gone bye.
Along comes Collin, to cook up a feed, Pork chop,
spud and peas. The beer will flow, throughout
the year, to help the work get done.
As Christmas approaches, Omokoroa slip,
‘URGENCY’ On work seems to be the one.
For there’s Fishing, Sailing and good times to be had,
the seas the place to be.
So we’ll leave the lads, to tend to there boats,
Allen and Murry, to set them afloat and Stan
the man, to lend a hand.
For they’ll all be back, again next year, to add
to those thoughts and stories
of Day’s gone bye.
He travelled far, in a life so short.
He conked challenges, greater then all other.
With honour, grace and charm,
he took Kiwi's by the hand
and lead them, to greatness
the world over.
We salute a man, a husband, a father,
a Kiwi, a hero
and a teacher.
We think of you often
Like the time, a rogue wave
snuck up our stern,
when a budding hero is born
and when the sun, is setting low.
We think of you.
We lost "Sir Peter" at the peak of success
We will now, let him rest.