breakers, and for a while we just float on our backs in the swell. Out there Dad is always very quiet, and if I speak too much he says I should keep quiet and listen to the sea and the gulls. If we're deep enough we can't even hear the cars driving along Strandfontein Road, and the specks of fishermen disappear behind the waves. Then it feels like Dad and I are the only people in the whole bay, and even though Dad never says so, I always think he's remembering Oupa Erasmus who went missing out there. When Dad wants to stay in the water for too long and I start getting tired, he turns around on to his stomach, and I hang on to his shoulders like a piece of floating sea-bamboo.
The first couple of times that Frikkie was with us, he was too scared to go in because he was frightened of the seals. Dad tried to explain to him that we've only seen seals out there a few times and that we'd come back to shore the moment Frikkie felt tired. I could see from
The Smell of Apples
Frikkie's face that his excuse about the seals was an old wives' tale and I think the real reason was that he can't swim as well as me. But Frikkie refused to budge and later on Dad and I went in alone while he stayed up against the dunes like a real little drip. I was irritated with him because Dad felt so sorry for him. Dad and I would just be in the water a couple of minutes before we'd have to go out because Dad was worried that Frikkie was unhappy. Dad said that Frikkie would come in once he saw there was nothing to be frightened of. He also said that I was not to tease Frikkie about his fear of water. One doesn't tease another about such fears, rather you help them to overcome the fear. I haven't ever teased Frikkie about it, although I've thought about it once or twice, when he gets smart-arsed with me.
It turned out just like Dad said, because after the third or fourth time, Frikkie took off his clothes without saying a word about the seals. Frikkie and I ran down the dune and got to the waves quite a while before Dad. I think maybe Dad let us get there first that time, just so that Frikkie wouldn't get scared from me screaming as Dad carries me into the waves. We used to come back to the beach when Frikkie got tired, but nowadays, since he's not scared any more, I hang on to Dad's shoulders and Frikkie hangs on to mine. Then the three of us float around for ages, back there behind the waves.
I go downstairs into the study to phone Frikkie and ask if he wants to come and visit. He's allowed to go on the train by himself, but first he has to call his mother at her shop to ask permission. When he comes to visit over weekends, Mum drives him home on Saturday night, so that he's there for Sunday school the next morning. But now the Sunday school is over for the year, so maybe he'll be able to stay for the whole weekend. During
Mark Behr
holidays we don't go to church as much as during term anyway.
The Delports go to the Groote Kerk next to Kruger Plain, and we are in the Dutch Reformed Fish Hoek congregation. Our church in Fish Hoek was built when the little stone church in Kalk Bay got too small for all the False Bay Afrikaners. Andrew Murray was the first dom-inee in the Kalk Bay church and now it's a sort of national monument. Dominee Cronje has been the minister in Fish Hoek for years, and everyone knows him and Mrs Dominee. They live in a big double-storey pastorie that looks out across the long beach at Fish Hoek. Whenever we go and visit them, Mum and Mrs Dominee mostly speak about the flower arrangements and cake sales for church, and Dad tells Dominee about national affairs. The pastorie has a big entrance foyer that's covered in beautiful stinkwood panelling. As you come into the pastorie, there are oil paintings and all kinds of hand-woven carpets that Mrs Dominee brings back from her trips to Israel and other countries. One of the big paintings in the foyer is of a father and his children on the beach. It could be somewhere along
The first couple of times that Frikkie was with us, he was too scared to go in because he was frightened of the seals. Dad tried to explain to him that we've only seen seals out there a few times and that we'd come back to shore the moment Frikkie felt tired. I could see from
The Smell of Apples
Frikkie's face that his excuse about the seals was an old wives' tale and I think the real reason was that he can't swim as well as me. But Frikkie refused to budge and later on Dad and I went in alone while he stayed up against the dunes like a real little drip. I was irritated with him because Dad felt so sorry for him. Dad and I would just be in the water a couple of minutes before we'd have to go out because Dad was worried that Frikkie was unhappy. Dad said that Frikkie would come in once he saw there was nothing to be frightened of. He also said that I was not to tease Frikkie about his fear of water. One doesn't tease another about such fears, rather you help them to overcome the fear. I haven't ever teased Frikkie about it, although I've thought about it once or twice, when he gets smart-arsed with me.
It turned out just like Dad said, because after the third or fourth time, Frikkie took off his clothes without saying a word about the seals. Frikkie and I ran down the dune and got to the waves quite a while before Dad. I think maybe Dad let us get there first that time, just so that Frikkie wouldn't get scared from me screaming as Dad carries me into the waves. We used to come back to the beach when Frikkie got tired, but nowadays, since he's not scared any more, I hang on to Dad's shoulders and Frikkie hangs on to mine. Then the three of us float around for ages, back there behind the waves.
I go downstairs into the study to phone Frikkie and ask if he wants to come and visit. He's allowed to go on the train by himself, but first he has to call his mother at her shop to ask permission. When he comes to visit over weekends, Mum drives him home on Saturday night, so that he's there for Sunday school the next morning. But now the Sunday school is over for the year, so maybe he'll be able to stay for the whole weekend. During
Mark Behr
holidays we don't go to church as much as during term anyway.
The Delports go to the Groote Kerk next to Kruger Plain, and we are in the Dutch Reformed Fish Hoek congregation. Our church in Fish Hoek was built when the little stone church in Kalk Bay got too small for all the False Bay Afrikaners. Andrew Murray was the first dom-inee in the Kalk Bay church and now it's a sort of national monument. Dominee Cronje has been the minister in Fish Hoek for years, and everyone knows him and Mrs Dominee. They live in a big double-storey pastorie that looks out across the long beach at Fish Hoek. Whenever we go and visit them, Mum and Mrs Dominee mostly speak about the flower arrangements and cake sales for church, and Dad tells Dominee about national affairs. The pastorie has a big entrance foyer that's covered in beautiful stinkwood panelling. As you come into the pastorie, there are oil paintings and all kinds of hand-woven carpets that Mrs Dominee brings back from her trips to Israel and other countries. One of the big paintings in the foyer is of a father and his children on the beach. It could be somewhere along
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