That Sunday afternoon, in 1957 the clouds hung heavy over the Mapping Pool. I remember that day for two reasons. The first was my new found fear of sharks and the second, my foray into crime. I suppose it could be called "My Coming-of-Age Story". Although back then it was called something different.
As the hot westerly wind diminished under the full force of the southerly buster, Billy and I knew what happened next. We grabbed our bags and headed for cover. There were several small shelters between the pool and the Ocean Baths but they offered little protection. Sand, whipped up by the wind lashed our briefly clad bodies. Bodies already burned by the sun after failing to protect as instructed.
