Thursday, New Zealand time.
On both Tuesday and Wednesday when J and I were swimming at Hataitai Beach, we banged into what we thought was an unusual jellyfish, one that was floating in roughly the same spot on both days. Day 1, J had almost swam on top of it, and Day 2, I tried to escape but it seemed intent on following me. There were no other jellyfish around.
We debated/discussed/argued later on over the colour, size, and whether or not it had prickles or tendrils. I guess it's like when a thief escapes from a bank robbery. The witnesses often give completely different descriptions.
Anyway, today, Thong Man was getting out of the water as we arrived. He said he'd banged into a jellyfish -
"-but it was one of the clear harmless ones," he said. It hadn't bothered him a bit.
Yikes! J and I hate all type of jellies.
As we were leaving the beach for home, we glanced down onto the sand, and there was a dead jellyfish.
We debated/discussed/argued whether or not it was 'Arthur' - the name we had previously given to 'our' jelly -
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