It was the worst day of my father’s life.
It’s the reason he taught me to swim.
It happened years before I was born.
Sometime in the 1960’s, he and my newly married mom were walking the golden sand beach of Whangamatā, in the Coromandel in New Zealand.
It was not summer; it was a lazy Sunday afternoon in the middle of winter.
The beach was isolated
Two peop…
