A nasty shock when the electricity decides to quit
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I was relying on those screens for time out in the rain.
It was 1882 when the good people of Manhattan first started to sit down to enjoy the evening meal under the comforting glow of a bulb driven by electricity.
What a revelation it must have been to flick a switch, not light a match, and instantly have relief from the dark.
Now, many years later and constantly surrounded by electrical devices, we no longer marvel at the bulbs above us. In fact, we barely notice them until they are not available.
Electricity, in general, is such a commonplace part of our lives that now even camping we get a powered site and run the cable direct to the tent, charging devices and boiling jugs without a second thought.
And it was with this blatant disregard for the electrical grid that on one of the rainiest long weekend Sundays we have seen I neglected to charge my phone.
A magical couple of days in Mahia was about to turn a little wild for the final night, and as sudden as a flick of a switch the power for Mahia was gone. All of it. Having watched the weather forecast we knew we were in for a damp evening, so I’d prepared. Four movies downloaded on Netflix ready to go and only 8 per cent battery.
“Kids, did you charge your devices?” I asked, prepared for the inevitable reply, “nooooo” they simultaneously called out. We hadn’t brought board games. I was relying on those screens for time out in the rain.
Glancing side to side in the confines of our canvas walls, I wondered how many items we had for eye spy. “I spy with my little eye something beginning with J” — “The jug” came the reply. Correct, this wasn’t going to last long.
A trip to the store will pass half an hour, I thought, as I scrambled for my keys. They are OPEN, first tick, Eftpos is up! Second tick . . . The fryer is out of order thanks to the power cut and there’s no chicken and chips. That was dinner.
The rain proceeded to get harder as I drove myself back to the campsite, windscreen wipers now requiring maximum speed to clear the way. Other campers strolled the grounds, umbrella in hand no doubt headed to ask about any updates to the power situation.
Just as suddenly as it had turned off five hours before, the campsite roared back into life.
I ran toward the charging port with a well-placed fend against three power-hungry children and once again was back in 2022, not 1881.
And we got our chicken and chips. Three cheers for electricity.