‘Rightio.’ Aimee smiled, as she pulled some papers out of her bag. ‘I also came prepared.’
‘Two scientists, Boles and Thyne, say that the Moeraki Boulders are composed of calcite-cemented mud with septarian veins of calcite and rare late-stage quartz and ferrous dolomite. That, according to my little bit of research, means that they fit in perfectly with the composition of concretions found in various locations.’ She smiled ferociously now, clearly proud of her little coup.
‘Yet Menzies suggests that these Boulders are far larger than any other such boulders found, with some being two metres in height, and more perfectly spherical than others found anywhere else in the world. Why are similar boulders not found along the complete length of coastline if the conditions and minerals are conducive to producing such forms?’
‘That’s a good question,’ Aimee said.
Matt smiled proudly. He was winning.
‘But I’ve got a better answer.’ Aimee laughed as she flipped to another page of her research. ‘There are even bigger, beautifully spherical boulders to be found in the North Island, on the Hokianga Harbour. The Koutu Boulders. Look at these pictures.’
Matt took the pictures and looked them over. Aimee was right. The pictured concretions were clearly larger than the Moeraki Boulders and were impressive in every way.
‘Have you been to these?’
‘Nup, I’d never heard of them before.’
‘Why aren’t they better known? I’ve seen plenty of references to the Moeraki Boulders in the tourism brochures, but nothing about these,’ he looked at the page, ‘Koutu Boulders.’
‘They’re out in the wop-wops, on a road from nowhere to nowhere. A few hours from Auckland. You can only get to them at low tide, and even then it’s an hour’s walk. You couldn’t drag most tourists there if you paid them.’
‘That explains a lot. So, what’s it to be then? Chinese ballast, or natural wonders?’
‘My vote goes to natural wonders. A game of Geologist’s Petanque,’ Aimee said, smiling.
‘I’m with you.’
They turned and walked up the beach and up the signalled return path to the tea rooms. It was different from the one that brought them down, running through woodland on top of the sand-dunes. Small fan-tailed birds flitted around them and the air smelled of the sea mixed with the freshness of the forest. Satisfied with their brief stop, they jumped in the car and departed for the final hour or so to Dunedin. The view as they came around a corner on the crest of the hill high above the small city was very promising. Matt hoped that the events of the afternoon would be just as promising. But first, they needed to find the nearest hotel and catch up on some sleep.
CHAPTER 37
Saturday, November 13, 1526
The coast continued in a south-west direction. The seascape here was more dramatic than in the north. We stayed further out from the shore in order to avoid any reefs that may be hiding under the choppy seas. The rocky beaches are backed immediately by a range of mountains. Much of the shoreline is steep cliffs. Among the rocks there were many seals to be seen. This made the men restless, as they would desperately like to have stopped to take a few, but the weather and the coastline did not permit it.
I took the decision to steer more directly south again. As we continued over the last few days, we gradually lost sight of the mountains in the distance to the west. I have ordered a change in course back to the south-west and hope that we will see our land again in the next days.
Greg Scowen
The Spanish Helmet
Monday, November 15, 1526
Disaster! We have been wrecked. Last night a terrible gale blew up. It was one to contend with the forces of those we encountered around the Estrecho de Magallanes. The winds drove us harder to the west and in the darkness we could see the land looming upon us. There were a few rocky outcrops around us, and some cliffs could be made out in front of us. We saw a beach out to the west a bit further, but couldn’t gain enough control to push towards that. I thought we were going to be smashed against the rocks and all be killed. But God has granted us some favour. We have been beached, and beached hard, on a small stretch of sand near to the larger one we saw. Unlike our previous beaching on the atoll, this time we are not going to be able to merely refloat after disposing of some weight. We are stuck fast on the beach. The carpenters and shipwrights have told me that the damage can be repaired, but that we will be here for at least a month or two before we can refloat the ship. In the meantime, they want to try and bring the ship further up the beach, so they can get better access to work on her. We are not sure how we will do this yet.
Only three men were killed. I do not know how we have been so lucky not to have lost more men, but maybe their good health and strength has played a part. We are all, for the most part, bruised and battered from the ordeal. Our spirits are sinking with fear of what awaits us in the forests. The beach is backed by a small gully. There is a village in the gully and we have already seen natives looking out at us. We have six men on guard, but unfortunately have very little functioning weaponry left. We have to pray that God will stay by our sides and that the natives are friendly.
CHAPTER 38
Matt and Aimee walked to the University from their hotel, which was located opposite the botanic gardens. The walk only took a few minutes and despite the clear, sunny skies, the mild climate made walking a pleasure. Arriving at the campus, they approached a striking modern theatre building and found an information board.
‘History, history, history…’ Aimee muttered as her finger ran down the alphabetical list. ‘History. There you are. F5.18. The Burns Building.’
‘Robbie Burns is my guess.’ Matt smiled, pleased with himself for knowing Dunedin had a strong Scottish heritage.
They memorised the path they would take. It ran alongside a stream which was directly outside the building they were in. Matt liked the look of the cafe that was located between the two, but what caught his eye was the beautiful stone building and clock-tower on the other side of the stream. A sweeping lawn in front of the clock- tower was occupied by summer-school students lazily chatting under weeping willows.
‘That’s pretty,’ Matt said. ‘Old England, Oxford or Cambridge.’
‘We don’t have this in Auckland.’
‘If you like this, you should come to England to study,’ Matt said, sweeping his hand out above the lawn but feeling a little naughty since his university didn’t look quite like this either.
‘Maybe.’ Aimee giggled and looked at Matt with warm eyes. There was a spark in them.
They followed the path past a few ugly seventies’ or eighties’ era blocks before arriving at the impressive glass and concrete library. It was also attractive, but in a different style altogether from the clock tower. Old meets new. A perfect harmony. Shame about the other monsters between the two. Turning to their left, Matt realised with a groan that the ugliest building on campus was their destination. As they walked in and found a lift, Matt mused that it looked more like a hospital or a council estate than a university building.
The directory by the lift listed Aimee’s friend on the second floor. Matt and Aimee took the stairs. Aimee had never met Mary before, but they had communicated at length via e-mail on various projects. Mary specialised in social history of the Pacific and had been a valuable resource for Aimee on more than one occasion. Reaching the door to her office, they peered in and saw the back of a woman wearing a red pullover. Aimee knocked lightly and waited.
‘One moment.’ Mary’s voice carried to the door.
