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Michael and
Steven just met and are enjoying their newborn friendship, but
they have no idea that they're about to embark on the adventure of a lifetime. When they stumble upon a group of men poaching crayfish, they know they have to act fast. With their quick thinking and resourcefulness, and the help of a peculiar man, they hatch a plan to catch the men red-handed.
Michael and Steven learn that they can accomplish anything when they work together and that even the smallest actions can make a big difference in
preserving our oceans and the creatures that inhabit them.
Catch at Mongrel Rock is a heartwarming tale. Readers of all ages will be captivated by the bond between two unlikely friends and inspired to take action to protect our planet.
Carol Preston lives in Wakkerstroom, a little village in South Africa where she works as an
artist and writer. Passionate about the environment and the future of the planet, she facilitates arts-based interventions with children, aiming to change poor environmental behaviour in her village. She is currently
research associate at the Wits School of Arts and
holds a doctorate in Applied Drama.
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Carol Preston
Catch at Mongrel Rock
© 2023Europe Books| London
www.europebooks.co.uk | [email protected]
Printed for Italy by Rotomail Italia
Finito di stampare presso Rotomail Italia S.p.A. - Vignate (MI)
Catch at Mongrel Rock
To Bernice McLean,
who works tirelessly towards saving the oceans of our planet.
Special thanks to Margie Stoole for her loving
encouragement, and to Sue Hall, my rock.
“We may be called ‘nature mystics’, those who experience the presence of the sacred through nature.”
Victoria Loorz
Michael adjusted his goggles and snorkel until they felt comfortable. He gasped in the cold water but soon forgot the cold when he began looking about him. The early afternoon sun filtering through the water added a lovely blue to the magical world he had entered. This wasn’t the first time that Michael had snorkelled; in fact it was his favourite hobby. Yet he never got tired of seeing the beautiful fish, the sea anemones or the shells.
He moved with skill through the water, pulling himself along the rocks as he went. His careful eye missed nothing and he would pause to study an unusual starfish or a piece of seaweed, sometimes diving down to the bottom of a deep pool to run his fingers through the tentacles of an anemone. Surfacing, he would blow hard through his snorkel to clear it of water, and send a jet of spray into the air, like a whale. From pool to pool he swam, gazing in wonder at the colours before him, and losing total track of where he was. He felt as if he was on some magical planet far away instead of only a few metres from the beach.
A little fish with bright yellow eyes and a long orange tail suddenly darted out from underneath an overhang of rock and swam round and round Michaels’s head, trying to decide what this strange dark creature was that had invaded its territory. Michael put out his hand and the little fish swam in and out between his fingers as if it was playing its own game of hide-and-seek.
Before he could control himself a large giggle escaped Michael and a stream of bubbles squeezed themselves out of his goggles, only to be replaced by water. Soon he was coughing and spluttering with all the water filling his mask, and he had to stand up. Pulling off his goggles he took a deep breath of fresh air, and looked around himself in surprise. There was his little sister playing on the beach, sunbathers lying on the sand like dead bodies and the lifesavers strutting up and down checking to see that everyone was behaving well. He climbed out of the water onto the rocks and made his slippery way back to the beach.
“Thandi,” he said to his little sister in his home tongue of Zulu. “Konke kulu ngile?” Is everything alright?