Should New Zealand Ban Freedom Campers? by Eden

Should New Zealand Ban Freedom Campers?

Freedom campers in New Zealand have been destroying the clean land and contaminating it with rubbish and toilet paper. Many people are contemplating banning freedom campers but, if we did, that would cause a huge impact on our stunning country.

Tourism is not uncommon in New Zealand but it could be if we ban freedom campers. Freedom campers pay lots of money for campers, food and drink but obviously don’t spend it on fully-equipped campervans. If they did, this would not be such a major problem. If freedom campers do spend their money on rubbish bins, however, they don’t use them. If we go to their home country, would they want us littering and urinating on their land?

With tourists paying for things they need, our country has a lot of money for the government and then they can spend it on useless little things like changing the flag. If we ban tourists, we won’t be able to do that! But seriously, our country has quite a lot of money now, but without it, we will remain to have damaged cities and homeless citizens roaming the streets.

In my opinion, I believe that we should not ban freedom campers but should be more strict on the requirements for their trip. For example, instead of freely entering a camping spot, they have to have their camper checked and make sure that there is a bin and a toilet.

In conclusion, I agree that this is a huge problem but can easily be solved without harming anyone.

Olympic Highlights by Eden and Nikita

Francis Brandywine By Eden M

Francis Brandywine

By Eden McLeod

On a cold Chicago night, I hear the rattle of a train as it passed my dusty bedroom window.  I was sitting at my small oak desk, rolling out my Quetico Park map.  Quetico Park takes up hundreds of acres of land with trees, campsites, tracks, and lakes.  I adored Quetico Park.  My family and I go camping there every year but we won't be going back anytime soon after what happened there last year……

Francis Brandywine was a dark haired, reckless, 17 year old girl who loved to be alone. Francis and her parents had been camping near one of the deeper lakes in the park. The very centre of this particular lake was rumoured to be around 300 feet and created by a passing glacier.

One night, Francis waited eagerly for her parents to go to sleep. An hour later, Francis was planting her quaint feet into her leather brown boots. So she left the shore, walked out on to the rickety pier and jumped into the old rowboat. She planned to find a quiet place in the middle of the lake, lay on the bench of the boat and write in her journal underneath the star- soaked sky.  She rowed for about 20 minutes and when she was satisfied that she was over the lake’s deepest spot she lay down on the bench, and looked up at the night sky and put a cigarette to her mouth. The stars were very bright tonight. She felt very peaceful.

She threw her smoke into the dark water beneath, then she heard something strange.  It was like a knock. Two gentle taps on wood. She sat up guessing that the boat had drifted to shore and run aground but she looked around the boat and she saw that she was still half a mile from shore. She leaned over to see if she could see anything but she saw nothing, no logs, no rocks, nothing. So she lay back down and told herself that it could be a number of things a frog, a turtle, a stick that had drifted to the side of the rustic boat. She relaxed and soon fell into a contented slumber. She had just closed her eyes when she heard the knocks again. Three crisp clean knocks. The horrid noise seems to be coming from underneath the boat. Now she felt terrified. She leaned over the side again. It had to be an animal, but what animal would knock like that? Her mouth went dry. She held onto both sides of the boat and waited for it to happen again.

The silence stretched out and just as she started to relax and think that she had imagined it all, the knocks then came louder. She had to leave. She lunged for the oars, knocking her lantern into the dark, murky water. The lake was calm so she  should have made good progress but, after rowing quickly, she realised she wasn't moving anywhere. Something was keeping her exactly where she was. She kept trying to row on the verge of tears, but she was going nowhere. Her muscles ached and she was exhausted. Her deep, raspy breaths, filled the air. She curled up in a ball and cried. She sobbed. Once she had calmed down she realised that all was silent. For 10 minutes, then 15, then 30. Again, she tricked herself into thinking it was just her imagination. But just like before, just when she was beginning to think she was safe and beginning to get a grip on herself, the knocks came again, this time as loud as a bass drum. The floorboards of the boat shaking vigorously with each knock. She made a questionable decision to dip an oar into the black water, and try to dislodge herself or at least, feel what was keeping her down. As the oar broke the surface however, a strong grip dragged it under water. She screamed and jumped back and hit the last remaining oar into the murky depths below. Now she had no options all she could do was sit, hope and wait, wait for morning to come and hope that whatever was going to happen, happen.  

The petrifying knocks went on through the lonely night. To pass the time she doodled in her journal about the knocks and everything. It is only because of this journal that we know what happened that night. Francis can’t tell us. She was never seen again. The boat was found on shore the next day, and in it, her notebook. Frantic pictures and entries in her distinctive handwriting, all pages but the last, which looked like it had been written fast with a muddy finger. And on this page, that truly make this a horror story, were the words “I DID KNOCK FIRST”

By Eden McLeod

The Tundra Ecosystem By Eden M

The Hoatzin by Eden

Why Volcanoes Erupt - Narrative Writing by Eden

Why Volcanoes Erupt

Once upon a time, Wera-Rangitoto and the scorching mountain beside her, Kohatu-Whakerewa were happy. Wera and Kohatu were best friends but Kino-Wai who lived around them hated it, and wanted to end it. Forever.

Wera and Kohatu were comfortable next to each other. They were chatting about the landscape around them, and telling one another legends about the lands. But, little did they know, Kino-Wai was seething with hate. She hated how they never talked to her. How they thought she was just another thing, another ocean, a mindless ocean.

“Well, lets see how those two mountains think when I drag them down to the seabed.” Kino-Wai spat the words out spitefully.

Kino-Wai lay still, calm, happy. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike. She watched as they fell asleep. Kino-Wai knew she had to wait for a couple of hours, so they would then be in a deep, silent sleep. Kino-Wai, with the help of her friend Marama, made gentle waves that lapped at the base of the volcanoes to settle them and comfort them.

As Marama stood in his place right above her, Kino-Wai gathered her strength. Rua Te Moana was underneath her, waiting for her to push her water into the earth’s mantle so he could emerge and drag Wera down. Marama, who waited patiently for the others to be ready, sent signals to Kino-Wai. It was time. Kino-Wai poured all her strength into the earth’s mantle. Rua Te Moana jumped up and grabbed Wera. Wera screamed, and this awoke Kohatu. Kohatu, being the smart one, grabbed some of the rocks from his body and threw them into Wera, hoping to make her heavier to slow her down. Rua Te Moana started to struggle, he slowed down quite a lot until, eventually, he stopped. Wera was scared, and shaking with fear. She went to yell but, as she is kind-natured, kept her anger inside of her. This would turn out to be horrid for Kino-Wai. All was silent.

Wera kept her anger inside of her, on the outside, she looked peaceful, but inside of her the rocks that Kohatu threw inside of her started to melt. Wera shook, she could not stand the silence or the anger, and as she went to scream the melted, hot rocks inside of her launched out of the top of her. The hot, red water slid down her body into Kino-Wai. Kino-Wai screamed and shouted. Kohatu was amazed at what his friend was doing.  

As Marama slowly backed away, Wera-Rangitoto finally stopped. This left Kino-Wai quiet, tame and frightened

Every now and again when Kino-Wai puts a toe out of line, Kohatu or Wera will burn her throughout the night, or day. Kino-Wai is the scorching mountain’s pets and will obey them. This is why volcanoes erupt.

By Eden M

Show Not Tell By Eden M

As I clean the dirty tables of McDonald’s, I hear the sound of a door opening and peer out the glass door.  Business men and women carry their briefcases and books into the restaurant with ease. People of New York creating a wave of noise and footsteps behind them. As the doors swing shut, the noise becomes muffled. The chatter of politics can be heard as I walk over to the sink. I take my grimy cloth and soak it in the pink, soapy water. The greying water jumps up and hits me in the face. I grimace and reach for a towel. The towel feels dry and soft as I dry my face. I continue working until my arms begin to glisten with a sheen of sweat. I decide then to take my leave. I open the doors and walk into the streets of hot New York.

Treaty of Waitangi by Eden M