Sea-sparkles at Manly Beach

"The strong manly ones in life are those who understand the meaning of the word patience." Tokugawa Ieyasu 


I've opened up my post today with a quote from a Japanese Shogun of the 15th century. I don't know if he meant it back then the way it sounds today. If he was a shogun maybe he was referring to being patient in waging war. I don't know. I would imagine that the 1500's in Japan (or anywhere) was a pretty tough time and place to live. Whatever his intent was, it is a good quote and says something important to the people (especially men) of any century. 

It's important because in a lot of our world today, being manly is not about showing patience. It is about power and dominance. And often times those being dominated are in fact being abused. It's shameful, not manly. 

Now, before you think that today's post is going to continue with this sobering lecture, let me reassure you that it will take a lighter tone by the end of this sentence. The term 'manly' was on my mind today because we visited the northern suburb of Auckland recently that is named Manly. 

Years ago, on my first trip to Army Bay Beach, we passed through the small town of Manly. I saw the Manly Liquor Store, the Manly Fire Station, the Manly Life Saving Club, the Manly Takeaway and the Manly Bar. Hmmm, I thought. Is everyone here big, tough and macho? 

Then I saw the sign for the Manly Beaches. Uh oh, would an older person like me find that sand was kicked in my face at such a beach by hulking gorillas? And there was, I soon discovered, a Big Manly and a Little Manly Beach. What exactly I wondered, was the cut-off point that determined which beach any individual guy belonged at?  Do you suppose that they had a sign at the entrance of Big Manly stating that a man must be THIS ^^^^ TALL to enter? Did they have bouncers to enforce the rules?  Well, I figured maybe the Little Manly Beach might be a safer bet to visit until I remembered the little man syndrome. (the Napoleon Complex). Apparently little guys occasionally try to make up for their perceived short comings by a volatile temper and domineering personality. Yipes, little mean guys might be even worse than the big ones! (visions of Joe Pesci's character in Goodfellas comes to mind). I was relieved to remember that my own masculinity would not be challenged that day since we were in fact headed for Army Bay Beach. Phew! 

Relieved, I went back to looking at the signs in town. We passed the Manly 16-foot Skiff Club (If your skiff is only 14 feet, you don't get in), the Manly Lagoon, (Used mainly by 14-foot skiffs) and the Manly Surf School. (No board size requirement here I guess) But then the tone of businesses changed a little and I saw the Manly Osteopath, the Manly Hair Salon, the Manly Art Gallery, the Manly Peace Park, and finally, the Manly Women's Centre. 

We even drove past a street called, The Ladies Mile. I don't even want to know why it's called that. Interesting town.  

But that was my first experience with Manly. Recently, we did venture back to Manly and on to Big Manly Beach one night, hoping to witness a natural phenomenon that had been reported in the news. Check out the link below.

https://www.stuff.co.nz/environment/95594840/sea-sparkles-delight-residents-in-whangaparaoa

Unfortunately, the bioluminescent plankton that wowed 'em at Manly had taken their act on the road. (Okay, the waves) The beach was dark as, the night we were there.  

But, our night had not been without fun. We were celebrating Allie's birthday at Daikoku, on the north shore. It is one of those places like the Benihana restaurants in the States, were a chef cooks at your table and dazzles his diners with his whirling knife and spatula skills. I think that our chef was still in training because although he tried his best to toss pieces of scrambled egg into the boy's mouths, he only succeeded once out of 6 tries. I saw another, obviously senior chef at another table popping egg into a whole line of mouths at his table. Didn't miss a single one. If we go there again, I'm going to request that we get a chef with better aim. The boys were good sports about it but their foreheads and cheeks had a somewhat greasy glow until they washed up after the meal. (Maybe they ought to issue safety glasses when trainee chefs are used.) Hey, I have an idea. I could save my menu and roll it up in to a cone. That might help.  

Here are a few pictures I took. We had finished our meal by this time so we don't appear in the shots, greasy or otherwise.   -djf