Saturday June 18th, 1966
This morning M.G., the boys, and I went to the reef to look at shells. We found a few pretty ones. While we were out there looking, Alan and Ken decided that they wanted to come back and play on the beach while we continued looking. Well, they played well for awhile and then began to climb on the rocks. Ken got into a crack and couldn’t get out. Alan came calling for us so I rushed into the shore and helped Kenny down. This afternoon the boys rode their bikes over to the beach with Ellen. Tonight our family went to see “How the West Was Won.” We really did enjoy it especially the scenery.
Beachcombing has never been a favorite pastime for me. After reading Mom’s diaries I see this distaste developed early in life. I would have been a poor child if I had grown up where the cowry shell was used for currency.
Rock climbing, that’s a man’s sport, but you do have to watch out for those pesky fissures. I am just glad Alan was not mad at me that day or I could have perished on my personal “cliffs of insanity.”(The Princess Bride circa 1987)
Obviously the experience did not taint further beach adventure later that day.
John Wayne was truly the king of cowboys. He inspired many fictitious roundups in my early days in Kenya. That we were in East Africa made little geographical difference to my 6 year old mind. As I recall, I was able to spin a mean lariat in those days.