FERRIES AT THE BOTTOM OF QUEEN STREET

All Waihekeans believe in ferries. We have to, we cannot do without them. They wand us from the Supersilly to our island paradise.

Which raises the subject of suitable names. Given what That Man said about dealing with us--that it was like trying to herd cats--it was very appropriate to call the first one Quickcat. There are no quicker cats than us, particularly when Orcland is trying to herd us somewhere we don't want to go. (And MEOW does mean the Moral Equivalent Of War.)

That underclaws the fact that we have a reputation for being feisty, which we are extremely proud of, so Feistycat would be a fitting addition to Fullers' Waiheke fleet.

But Fullers have yet to acknowledge our airy belief in ferries. They came close when they acquired a boat called Wand-erer. But for their next vessel they should admit the whole truth, and call it Tinkerbell.

Then as some unfortunate too-later sprints despairingly for a rapidly retreating gangplank, we could all call out in gleeful unison, 'Ask not for whom the Tinkerbell tolls. It tolls for thee!' (apologies to John Donne)

Or, if they want to be a tad more serious, and very Shakespearean, they could call it Titania.

THE SITTING MYSTERY

When a bird sits on a nest (a process they call nest-sitting) it produces chicks, which grow into birds.

There is also the simple modern system that has replaced all that old-fashioned nonsense called building, the process called house-sitting, which produces cabins, which grow into dwellings.

There is also of course truck-sitting, the system which results in the pitter-patter of little Fiats, which grow into all sorts of things, from Roll-Royces to Hummers, Toyotas and tanks.

However, no one has ever been able to discover what you have to sit on to produce politicians...