Gold Coast... Gold Sandals, Golden Gaytimes and Golden Oldies.

This week of "Round Australia in 75 days" sees us in Brissy, going Wet 'n' Wild, getting with the dudes in Surfer's Paradise and reminiscing about Brighton with the winos and weirdos of Byron Bay. We've now left the tropics of Queensland and now find ourselves in the state of New South Wales. In honor of all things golden, Andy has been drawn to trying a ice lolly called a "Golden Gaytime" and I keep telling him he's not allowed.
So this is where old people come on holiday to work on their handbags...



Brisbane is the home of our lovely Cameron, so we were expecting it to be pretty ripper. It was a gorgeous day when we arrived in the city and whiled away a few hours in bookshops, looking at the odd selection of clothing in the high street shops. Now, nobody really looks that bad walking down the streets of Australia, so where do they buy their clothes? I know what you're thinking! Those heinous blue fishing trousers and a black vest have all but become part of my connective tissues holding me together, but it's like my uniform now and it feels wrong to look any smarter or (heaven forbid) any different. Horrifically, they are finally starting to come apart at the seams. I feel a purchase coming on!

So we bought a lot of nice books with lovely front covers, had some sushi at a place with a fondness for avocado in every roll (magnificent) and then had a cup of coffee OUTSIDE. By this I mean not concocted on a gas ring in the camper and swerved in our Rhino mugs. Now that I'm a "Wildlife Warrior" I need to buy animal-related items only. Wandering about the city - quite pleasant really - revealed the usual finds of a big city. Hoards of Japanese students drinking a funny thing called "Bubble Tea" which I don't think contains any tea, but is like a milkshake with balls of psychedelic tapioca in the bottom. You couldn't make it up, eh? To our dismay, the art gallery was closed, so we left the bright sunshine for the dankness of an underground internet place. Andy felt most at home - lots of pasty grown up men playing computer games. We happened upon an Aboriginal man doing his didgeridoo thing and we stopped to listen for a while. He was creating this amazing sound with a dancey beat - it was really good and the most indigenous experience we've had as yet! I suppose you have to venture into the middle of this enormous landmass rather than skirt around the edges for more didgeridoodling and rock art.

That evening, we thought it was high time we caught a film. Anyhoo, it was as brilliant as it was confusing, with the genious himself Jack Nichoson playing a wonderful part. By the end of it I had a cracking headache from all the concentration and adrenaline. Due to time constraints, we headed off again bright and early to the Gold Coast. En route, we did a spontaneous thing which wasn't actually in the schedule until the following day, and stopped off at Wet 'n' Wild. Lured from the motorway by the vision of massive twirly waterslides was sufficient to get us in our bikinis.

Five hours worth of aquatic anctics, began with a couple of gentle slides and then some kind of race with strangers where you lie on a mat on your stomach and launch yourself off the top. Supposedly quite a safe option, I managed to somehow punch myself in the face which was quite painful. Enough of this girly rides, it was time to enter the 'Extreme Section!' My favourite ride of the whole day was where you sat on this huge clover-leaf style inflatable (one bottom per hole) and you get thrown down a very-steep slide and then the stored-up velocity forces you to hurtle up the side of an enormous funnel. Apparently it's better if there's more of you on the clover leaf, so we paired up with a very friendly couple. There was a lot of screaming (from Andy) and we repeated the process three times. Another winner was the kamikaze-style sheer-drop water slide, which actually causes you to loose conact with the slide's surface for a couple of seconds. I could almost taste my bikini upon becoming stationary. Not attractive.

Continuing the drive, we went to Surfer's Paradise... and promptly went back out the other side! It was totally not what we were expecting! All high-rise buildings and hotels, it was more Miami meets Blackpool than a laid-back beach full of dudes. Toying with the notion of perhaps having a surfing lession the following day, we camped out at Burleigh Heads, where the surf is supposed to be superior. Neglecting the concept of the surf lession, we found ourselves in Byron Bay, hopeful of somewhere more chilled-out. And in Byron Bay we found it! It instantly transported us to our home-town, with it's aged hippies (the REAL hippies), laid-back ambience and old salty dogs drinking neat bottles of Bundaberg on the street. Imagine our delight when a thoroughly unpleasant speciment entered the post office all boozed-up demanding to be served. A top Whitehawk moment, fazing the staff into a frenzy and (after he'd left) precipitating "Brenda, can I have that Mogadon milkshake now!?" from a lady with a flushed neck who'd handled the situation quite admirably.

Julian Rocks is rated as one of Australia's Top 10 dive sites. There are two dive companies in Byron take trips out to the rocks. We chose the wrong one. To anyone who might be coming this way "Byron Bay Dive Centre" is the one with the unenthusiastic staff, the unfriendly staff and the falling-to-bits equipment. Lady Luck seems to be on holiday at the moment, so the day of our dive was a dismal rainly one. Peering out to the rocks revealed a not-too choppy looking sea, but the rocks, looked manacing enough. An elderly lady who seemed to be affiliated to the dive school (never a good sign) kitted us out in older-than-she-was gear, whilst clutching a cup of tea. Andy asked our dive 'guide' (no, not a Dive Master or even an Instructor, but a guide?) what we could expect to see under the sea. He replied "Fish" in a monotone and gave us a bit of a scary-stare. What a freak. A little more coaxing brought him to the conclusion that we might see some sharks, but the visibility wouldn't be great.

Well, we set out in a little inflatable boat, with 12 of us filling it to capacity. There was barely enough room to stand with fins on, let alone manoevre into BCD. It was at this point I realised that my ancient BCD was so worn, the velcro no longer functioned. The bloke didn't seem to think this was a problem and that whilst I was swimming, it would stay put. A shaky backwards-roll into the sea found me (surprise surprise) unable to descend. A freezing 19 degrees meant that we neede a 5 mm wetsuit - providing the ease of movment that wearing a roll of carpet around each limb might. It also makes you float like a cow carcass. The bloke on the boat shouted at me that "Well, of course you're not going to descend when you're on the surface!" 'Scuse me? Have I been getting it wrong all this time - what's he on about? "You have to swim down!!"

After much hauling myself down on the boat's mooring line, I reached the others. After not very long, we met a Wobbegong shark, looking quite cool just sitting on the seabed. They are also called carpet sharks due to their '70's interior design pattern and get pretty big. A saunter along introduced us to several more Wobbegongs, but little in the way of fish that I can remember. My main recollection of the dive was the bit where we lost Andy. You could only see a few metres in front of you (10 at best) and suddenly he was gone. The panic began to rise as I twanged my wanger - still no sign. Worse still, the disappearance had gone unnoticed by Mr. Personality of the year dive-guide. I eventually managed to communicate my distress to him and we slowly retraced our fins. After what seemed like ages, we found him - he'd been taking a picture of the shark and lost sight of us pretty quickly. He'd been having a panic aswell, but had done the sensible thng and gone back to the Wobby. You might imagine the telling off he received from me when we surfaced!

I opted out of the second dive (largely to recover!) as I hadn't been too impressed with any of it - the kit, the team, the visibility. They didn't even ask me why I wasn't diving again they just replied "Well, you won't get a refund." Nice, thanks very much. Andy continued, unabashed. Though he saw nothing more spectacular and the visibility was further reduced. My saunter round the second-hand bookshops sounded much more pleasant. A wander up to the lighthouse on Cape Byron the following morning, revealed all that you want to find in a lighthouse. A source of light to warn ships of the deadly rocks below and plenty of Fraggles. This marks the most Easterly point in mainland Australia and is beautifully rugged and picturesque. So Byron Bay - lovely, Julian Rocks - bad. My advice - wait until you get to The Solitary Islands...




Currently Reading: On Beauty by the wonderful Zadie Smith.










Film of the Week: The Departed - Absolutely brilliant!







Listening to: The Wedding Present - Bizarro

Crikey! It's Australia Zoo!

On our way to the zoo we came to the town of Noosa, a right little tourist mecca and no mistake. What drags all these fair dinkum Aussies here? The beach is a corker, the river with its lazy sandbanks, birdlife and fishing is stunning and there's a gorgeous little National Park running from the town along the coast, where you can catch a glimpse of a whale or a dolphin if you're lucky (we saw a dolphin). We found a cracking little campsite by the river and the next day got up early to give the hoards a miss and headed to the Park for a walk. We had a spring in our step that morning, we were on a hunt, a hunt for the illusive Koala! We had seen signs around telling us they were here, so walking along the coast we craned our necks staring up into the tall, silvery Eucalyptus trees hoping for a glimpse. These fella's are hard to spot, for one they're grey like the tree bark and so blend in very well, also, they tend to sleep for 20 hours a day! Obviously this means they don't move about much, making them even harder to spot, but luck was on our side. Having only walked about 100 meters along the path I spied what at first I thought was a big knot in the tree branch, on closer inspection it proved to be a Koala! We were well excited and spent ages looking at the little fella. I took the opportunity to use some of my recent naturalist skills learnt in Borneo from the Orang Utan spotters and taking off my shoe, thwaked the tree until the Koala woke up :) looking very confused and tired. A bit cruel I know, but 20 hours sleep? There's a time to sleep and a time to wake up and see the 2 tourists waving at you from below. The top photo is from Australia zoo, it was too cute not to put on and the other one is just after the wild one woke up :)

Australia Zoo was originally built in the 70's by Bob Irwin and was primarily a reptile house. Steve Irwin took over the management of it in the early 90's from his Dad and using his growing fame funded the redevelopment of the place. Basically whatever you think of zoo's, it's a corking place and the standards are very high, it's almost as good as Singapore Zoo (still our No.1). It was a great day, but definitely tinged with a bit of sadness, especially when we saw all the Kharki shirts on display with messages from Steve's friends and admirers. He was a bit of a wally, but it seems to me that he did a lot for wildlife protection and conservation and also made me laugh a lot as he chased 'naughty' snakes and 'cranky' crocs.
The zoo itself is mainly devoted to Australian animals, but does have Tiger and Elephant enclosures too. Like a lot of Australian tourist attractions it's a great place for kids and there are endless opportunities to stroke animals. So we did! We both went up and stroked a Koala (how could you not?) and got our photo taken, but sadly I can't publish it on the blog as I've come out looking particularly evil, looking like I'm wanting to kill the Koala, so instead I thought I'd put this delightful image of Samantha and her Kangeroo friend. As well as animal petting, also on offer is croc feeding, although you don't get to feed it the beast. As seen on Steve's TV show's you get to watch a chap demonstrating the crocodiles 'natural' behaviors in the wild, which entails standing near the water and watching the croc slowly moving under the surface and then getting well out of the way as it comes in for the kill. The croc was called 'Acco' and was Huge! About 16ft long, it was a true monster and was fed 3 whole chickens and a rabbit just during the show (all dead). The bloke feeding the croc looked uncanily like Steve Irwin too which made it all the more surreal.
Next up was the Venomous Snake House, featuring all the deadliest snakes in Australia. Flan you would have loved it! Normally the snake section of a zoo can be a bit boring as snakes tend to lie there doing nowt, to our happy surprise these ones were up and about, slithering all round their enclosures. It's always more interesting looking at snakes when you know that they're all utterly deadly, obviously numero uno king daddy of the snake world, the Brown snake was there, which can basically kill you just with a look! According to the zoo, the 3rd deadliest snake is the Taipan (pictured) which is also insanely deadly and can kill you with the power of its mind! It also has arguably the coolest name, although the Death Adder comes a very close 2nd on that score.

To finish our day off we popped over to the Tiger area where they were demonstrating different skills and abilities of their tigers. The tigers have been hand reared by their keepers, so that they're used to having them in in their enclosure, not something I've seen before. If the tigers feel like it, then they'll play along with the keepers, who get them to show off by using milk. One of the blokes help up a carton of milk against a tree and the tiger was up on its hind legs having a drink, which showed how massive it really was. The tigers had a big pool as well, right against the glass of their living area and they got them to swim about in it and also by chucking in a massive ball, the tigers were leaping into the water after it, which was pretty impressive to watch. I noticed one tiger seemed to take a liking to a small boy, I'm not sure how long the boy would have lasted with the tiger :)
I was going to say I'm sure we'll get bored with all this wildlife stuff at some point, but I think we're more and more obsessed with it every day, I'm even catching myself liking birds, the most boring of all creatures. I still hate moths and wasps and in fact plan their downfall every day! Mwah hah ha!!!

Australia Zoo Slideshow



Listening to: Orbital - The Blue Album

Fraser Island... and the many hazards of Oz.

Hervey Bay is the gateway to the much-loved Fraser Island, the largest sand-island in the world. It's a very sandy place, reputedly containing more sand than the Sahara Desert! Another sandy feature are the 224 metre high sand-dunes, necessitating a 4-wheel drive to access the place. In light of this, we had to abandon the van and succumb to a dreaded guided day-tour. Arising at 5:45 for the priveledge was no joke, but it was to be a day of adventure. As luck would have it, the skies above were a worrying grey, dotted with black clouds. Not a fortuitous start, I thought, as we bumbled along to the marina, bypassing some scary-
looking birds with massive curved beaks.

Looking out onto a choppy sea, I thought about how lethal the waters around the Fraser Coast are supposd to be - something to which Vic Hislop would testify. Not only are there unruly sea conditions and undertows, but sharks of the man-eating variety are found here in abundance. Namely, Great Whites, Tigers and Bull (or Whaler) sharks. (This is where he caught most of his specimens). He is clearly a man proud of his life's work - there is another of his freak shows here! As these sharks often swim very close to the shore in knee-deep water, you really want to be keeping your feet dry (and sandy).

After boarding the ferry for the 35 minute journey to the island, we were treated to the sight of a very big Leopard Ray in the shallow water beneath the jetty. We followed his progress along the sandy bottom and promptly saw another smaller ray soon afterwards. This instantly perked me up - who cares about the weather? A short jaunt along the boardwalks of the posh resort, brought is to an abrupt stop. Steve, our guide, threw his arm across our path just in time to prevent a Sam & Andy / double brown snake interaction. "Were they poisonous?" asked an eager Andy "Oh yes - the brown ones are!" said Steve quietly, whilst shouting out to the rest of the group who'd missed them scuttling back to the scrub that they were "nothing to worry about - it's the brown ones you have to watch out for!" It always pays to be teacher's pet at the front of the group.

As if sharks and snakes aren't enough of a concern, you need to watch out for the Dingoes - the wild dogs which have become increasingly anti-social due to being fed by tourists over the years. If only this was known back in 1980 when Lindy Chamberlain claimed that "a Dingo stole my baby." During a camping trip near Ayers rock, the Chamberlain's baby daughter was stolen from their tent, never to be seen again. Failing to recognise that dingoes could do this kind of dastardly deed, poor old Lindy was convicted for murder and 'banged up in the slammer.' Sadly, a 9-year old boy was mauled in 2001, thus leading to increasing hesitance towards the act of cuddling wild dogs. They then went and shot 30 dingoes in response and at this time, pure-bred dingoes are now an endangered species, with only 150-200 remaining on Fraser Island. I've seen 'em in the zoo and they look incredibly wolf-like and unfriendly. I'd rather kiss Elvis, my brother's Rottweiler (and believe me, that would take a lot) than going near one of those beasts. Bizarrely, we watched the film "Cry in the Dark" whilst staying at The Davis in Bangkok. I just knew that Meryl Streep, despite a fretful bowl-cut hair style, was telling the truth.

Our first stop was Lake McKenzie, reputedly a magical spot featuring a lake of pure rainwater. If you are able to envisage a beautiful blue sky and erase the beautifying-effects of the emergncy poncho, you can imagine how gorgeous this place would be. Everyone else looked extremely miserable, but we made the best of the situation like a pair of simpletons and splashed about wearing our celophane sreations. The sand is silica granite, like Whitehaven beach and the lake is extremely pure. It is prevented from leaching into the sand by a layer of rotting vegetation or humus. Chickpeas are marvellous things. Considering the nippy weather, the water was nice and warm. It maintains a pH of 4.5-4.8 and is magic for washing your hair in. According to our guide, Steve ("your guide, your driver and hopefully by the end of the day - your friend") you don't need shampoo or conditioner and when you come out your hair will be fluffy and gorgeous. You can also buff your jewellery by scrubbing it with the wet sand. Forgoing the opportunity to be transformed into something fluffy and shiny, we went in search of sustinence.

Steve is a man who thrives on repetition. Throughout the morning, he said "in a minute we'll stop off for a cup of tea and a muffin... maybe a biscuit," several times. By the time it had been uttered four times, it became very funny. By the time he'd said it seven times (no exaggeration), it was to become hilarious. His love of saying everything several times actually apppealed to my dim memory, meaning we (yes, even Andy!) were able to absorb a lot of information. And he like to chat. With more than a passing resemblance to my Dad and Alan Titchmarch, we were loving Steve by the end of the day!

Being on a 4WD bus is quite a novelty and quite necessary to negotiate the rough sand tracks of Fraser. Following a very rainy cup of tea and a muffin, we bounced our way towards the sub-tropical rainforest section of the island, listening to Steve providing commentary by means of a Madonna-style microphone headset. A very pleasant walk through the forest protected us from the rain and we marvelled at the jewel-bright colours of the palm and the creepers post rainfall. It was a different type of rainforest again, and the only one in the world to have sprouted and thrived in sand. Some pretty massive trees loomed above us and a crystal clear creek ran though its centre. A brief herding later and we were in a hotel having lunch, and then we headed for the beach. Yipee - more sand! Along the beach, the eerie Maheno shipwreck juts from the beach. A passenger ferry blown ashore in the clutches of a cyclone in 1935 on its way to the scrapyard, the top of the Maheno now peeks out of the sand as a rusting lump - much of it buried underneath. The joy of watching idiots running around atop the rusting carapace despite the signs warning them not to! My day would have been complete had one bloke in particular fallen through the structure, receiving a tetanus-complicated open fracture, as he managed to be in all of my photos. Oh why can't people behave?

Eli Creek was our next top, another source of crystal-clear, fast-moving water. I'm sure it's very nice on a hot day, but we didn't join in the rest of the miserable group for their wade down the creek. Everyone was falling asleep, but Steve carried on regardless and droppd us off at yet another destination (our third so far) to be named "The Pinnacles." These lumps of sandstone are banded with different colours due to mineral deposits and weren't nearly as impressive as 'the proper' Pinnacles. Not sure I could take much more without another cup of tea and a muffin...maybe a biscuit, but we were deposited once more to catch sight of the sand dunes. And so the day of fun came to a close. Damn those group tours, but Steve made it so much better!

This may be digressing, and yes, the detail is necessary. We've been having some quite spectacular dreams of late, but it's rare they can be recalled. The other morning I awoke abruptly to the sound of Andy doing a little trump. Allegedly, I sat bolt upright in bed and exclaimed "Was that a yak?" before rolling over and going back to sleep. As it's unsafe to let one go whilst wearing a wetsuit, he's certainly making up for lost time. Time to ban the mung beans and keep him away from the trees.



Currently listening to : Andy's Organic Sounds (not yet available in HMV).





Currently managing to escape this stressful life by reading: Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman.

The Long and Winding Road...

With great relief we trod once again upon Terra Firma, the high, rocking waves left far behind us and jumped into our camper to begin the long drive south. What you need after feeling sea sick for the best part of three days is little movement and a very still horizon, because you know you're going to start feeling boaty again, cause that's the way it works. What we did instead was to drive 20 k up an improbably windy, pants wettingly, steep mountain in order to reach the Atherton Tablelands area. The views as the sun was setting were great, although the landscape did seem to be tilting up and down somewhat. We secured a campsite for the night in a small town that could have come straight out of Deliverence and woke up the next morning to the Tablelands proper.
No idea why it's called the Tablelands, but its an area of undulating green hills, a plethora of waterfalls and some cracking wildlife. We managed to cram all the culture and beauty into one packed day of sight seeing which was helped by a circular route that took in several waterfalls and a couple of lakes. Lake Eacham was particularly pretty and we whiled away an hour or so checking out the little turtles swimming about and the massive Pelican that was practicing its taking off. These lakes and waterfalls seem to be impressively clean and clear and there were signs saying it was ok to swim and several people splashing about, enjoying a lazy Sunday, no doubt with a few stubbies (of VB Jason!). We wound our way along and came to the Milla Milla Waterfall, easily the most pituresce of the ones we saw. Its weird driving through what looks like English countryside (only better, bigger and sunnier) and coming across rainforest in the middle of it all, such a diverse place. Its a stunning area of Eastern Oz to drive through, where the drive to your destination is as good as the destinations themselves. Wildlife wise, it was good to see the turtles and there are a lot of beautiful birds flying about, all sorts of eagles, ospreys, herons, parrots, it's a bird lovers dream really. We had our beady eyes out for the tree kangeroo, but didn't spot any, a bit hard to see when you're driving.
The next day we carried on south and stopped off for a quick ly about on Mission beach. A totally gorgeous stretch of sand, far nicer than Cape Trib and other northern Queensland beaches that we'd been to, where Sam managed to buy some circa '89 Australian Geographic mags full of pics of places we'd been in Oz and in Borneo and also some proper hot (ish) chilies, seemingly hard to come by in Oz so far. The afternoon found us in Paluma National Park, another windy, steep drive, rewarded by great views of countryside and coast. One sentence doesn't really do any justice to it, but beer waits for no man as they say :)
Bypassing Townsville for no other reason than time constraints, we arrived in Ayr where we planned to book up a dive on the SS Yongala, supposedly one of the best dive sites on the planet. Unfortunately the weather for the next day was looking decidedly dodgy and not wanting to spend any more time feeling sea sick we called it off, I think Sam was slightly more pleased about this than me, when she discovered that there's a resident Bull shark at the wreck, one of the 'bad' sharks. I'd loved to have seen a Bull shark, but not at the expense of my stomach contents going over-board :) Ayr was a really wierd little town full of hicks and we were pleased to leave it later that day. We were less pleased about 1/2 hour later on to discover that I'd left my Memory card at an internet shop and had to return to the stupid place and camp there the night as the shop had shut for the night!
Continuing south, we arrived at Arlie Beach, a small town on the coast which is the gateway to the Whitsunday islands. Before we embarked on a cruise around the islands we spent an entertaining day in and around the town itself. First up was a visit to Vic Hislop's Shark expo. Vic is a complete git who spent many years killing sharks through some warped attempt at saving human lives. His laughable theories that some 'bad' types of sharks should be culled as not only were they a danger to man, but they also attacked 'family orientated animals' (I'm quoting here), such as whales, dolphins, turtles etc. There were 3-4 rooms full of Vic and his tacky pictures of dead sharks, he also had a 5 meter Great White shark frozen for you to gawp at, so we did. I deeply regretted paying the entrance fee afterwards, thankfully hunting Great Whites is now illegal as they're endangered.
Later that day we returned to our campsite, one we had chosen, because of its jumping pillow (which turned out to be a bit crap), we decided to have a game of Tennis. That's right me and Hamble played tennis and a classic Serve and Volley game it was too, if nothing else the astro-turf court exfoliated our feet and gave us some much needed pre beer exercise.
Due to our hectic schedule we had only time for an afternoon speedboat ride around the islands. They were discovered by our old friend Captain Cook, funnily enough on WhitSunday and jolly nice they are to. We made sure we got a tour to get us to Whitehaven beach, as recommended by Jason, basically the must see scenery of the islands. It's a 6k long beach whose sand is 95% silicon apparently, which means that it's stupidly fine and rather pleasingly squeaks when you walk on it. Our enchantingly dull tour guide informed us that it was actually mined and used in the construction of the Hubble telescope lens, the only interesting peice of information that day. We also enjoyed yet another day of waves and a subtle feeling of sickness, mmmmm, you'd think by now the sea would generally chill out about us sailing on it and just be calm for once.
We would love to have lounged about at the Whitsundays for a few days, but we had a plan to stick to and there was no stopping us as we pushed on further south. In fact covering about 800k over the next couple of days we zoomed down past Rockhampton and arrived at the Town of 1770. A very beautiful and peaceful little village getting it's name from a certain Captain Cook who landed there in a certain year. We had a delightful stroll around and a spot of lunch before once again taking the high road and heading for Fraser island, but that's another story...




Listening to: Ash - Free All Angels







Just Read: Richard Laymon - After Midnight Classic Trashy Horror, brilliant stuff!

Cod Almighty!

Pass me that bucket Andy! We just returned from a 4 day dive safari on the Great Barrier Reef. Seeking the poshest and most fancy of expeditions, we opted for Taka Dive for our much-anticipated trip. The biggest draw was the opportunity to visit the world-famous Cod Hole, home to some giant potato cod and hopefully much more besides. The trouble with many trips to the Barrier Reef is that from the beach outwards, it is slowly dying. The nearer you are to Cairns, the more chance of it being over-trafficked, and at full bombardment from all kinds of man-made nightmares such as pollution. Rather than suffer some sub-standard diving, we were going to explore the outer reefs for some of the most pristine coral and marine-life around.

As we boarded the calm waters of Cairns that evening, we had no idea what was in store for us as the night progressed. This was to be our first ever liveaboard, so we didn't know quite what to expect. Adding to a group of 30 divers, we were welcomed on board by friendly, professional crew and had our first dive brief as we set sail. We were to sail up to the Cod Hole, a dive site some 13 hours North and roughly parallel with Cookstown. By the end of the dive brief, we were both feeling quick sick, so escaped dinner to seek refuge on the deck, in a bid to stare at the darkening horizon. Everyone else seeked OK, stuffing their dinner down and having a few beers. After medicating ourselves, we shot off to bed for an early night. Being the cheapskates we are, we were sharing a cabin with two blokes - one of whom was very strange and did a lot of staring at the ceiling. Stepping outside the cabin some time later revealed that someone had vomited right outside our door. It was pretty horrendous and what was more, it looked like we were responsible for the pea and carrot carnage.

Possibly the longest night in maritime history ensued as we rolled all over the place. At one point, it actually felt like we might be thrown from our bunks. I can safely say neither of us had a wink of shut-eye. During the night I'd gone upto the 'living room' as I was sure I could hear water leaking in. This location was no more settling, as I was able to hear the pots and pans being thrown around in the galley, the swivel chairs were wanging around of their own accord and the waves were crashing onto the deck. By the morning, the sea was calm and the reef (light green) beckoned us from the deck.

Unsurprisingly, we weren't feeling top-notch for first couple of dives at a site called Challenger Bay. Due to unseasonally rough conditions, it was too dangerous out at Cod Hole. that would have to wait until later. Nontheless, Challenger Bay provided us with pretty amazing dives. It was also our first time to go not in pursuit of an instructor, but just to dive in buddy pairs. After a spot of bother equalising my ears, we were in hot pursuit of a vast array of reef fish and pristine colourful coral. With a visibility of 25 metres, we were treated to sights of Unicorn Fish (second picture), Angelfish, Butterfly fish, a pair of Baracuda - film - (I think they were married), a large Blue Triggerfish, a huge Bumphead Parrotfish, Moorish Idols, Blue Sea Star, Table, Fire and Staghorn corals, Clown Triggerfish, Pineapple Sea Cucumber and an impressively large beige/yellow Maori Wrasse. Somehow Mr. Breathing-Control chugged all of his air pretty quickly, so we had to surface sooner than planned (he was excited, bless him).

After a mouthful of lunch (still suffering slightly) we arrived at the Cod Hole. This was to be the only time we were to dive as a group (and when there are 30 of you, that's a good thing). The residual current and the surface waves were a bit off-putting, but we stuck to the secret of being one of last to enter the water. This means, you spend less time getting thrown about and can descend quickly where the conditions are much better. As soon as we began our descent, we could see schools of big Red Bass circling the boat. To quote our dive master Andreas, Red Bass are a "prick of a fish" and proceeded to show us the scars they'd inflicted upon him in the past. Obviously wise to the knowledge of an easy feed, they swarmed around us ready for lunch. They have an initial white colouring, and turn red when they get excited or aggressive. They are poisonous if eaten and their dracula fangs were certainly a bit scary. We were all thankful to not be the one carrying the food bucket. One poor girl was having a terrible day and as soon as she put her foot in the water (no fins on), one took a chunk out of her foot!

We battled with the current for a short while until we reached the sandy cod feeding area. Here, we all formed as best a circle as was possible under the conditions (film), and watched the tea party commence. Along came the friendly potato cod, with his friend, the Maori Wrasse. Despite their size, they are very gentle and inquisitive so will stay with you for a long time. At this point, I noticed that the circle appeared to be smaller. As I looked around me, I realised that the surge had swept me into the middle of the circle and there I was face to face with the Maori Wrasse. He was gorgeous and I was able to clearly see the markings on his cheeks after which he is named. I then noticed that Andy was stroking the Potato Cod, who was acting just like an underwater labrador and seemed to be loving the attention it was receiving. Andreas seemed to be batting away Red Bass left right and centre and I think he was relieved when all the fish-food was gone (film). We then made our way to Shark Ally, where I was blissfully unaware of a 5 foot White-Tip Shark just next to us! Note the manic expression!

After dinner, it was almost time for the night dive (film). Not wanting to rock my newly-found confidence, I chickened out as it was truly dark by the time everyone had their gear on. Undeterred by jumping into inky waters full of night-predators (doesn't he realise that's when the big fellers come out for tea?), Andy teamed up with some Brazilian bird and off they went. Seeing them all in the water it looked more like some kind of search and rescue operation than something you might want to do recreationally. I paced about quite a lot waiting to see that little monkey-face pop back to the surface I can tell you.

That night we were only sailing for three hours and I didn't even hear the anchor dropping at midnight, so asleep was I after dinner and a beer. Conditions were so much calmer being stationary, that I think everyone had some welcome rest. The next morning, we got up for Steve's Bommie. Steve was an engineer on on of the dive boats and he's gone off for a solo dive (silly boy), never to be seen again. His body and SCUBA equipment have never been found, but it's thought that he went too deep for too long, got nitrogen narcosis and then just went off blue-water diving and ran out of air. I have to say, the dive briefs were never the most relaxing, but the crew were very on the ball and always checked out the current and conditions before we went down. The on-board engineer was a reassurrance, even if he seemed to be a bit of a nightmare.

A "Bommie", in case you're wondering is derived from the Aboriginal word 'bombora,' meaning submerged rock. It is used to describle large coral outcrops which rise towards the surface. Steve's begins 35 metres below sea level, where Wobbegong (carpet) sharks can be found. If you dive 30 metres or deeper you're pretty sure to get 'Narc'd' - sensation not dissimilar to having a few beers at lunchtime. Then you start to do scary things like pass your regulator over oncoming fish. In light of what happened to Steve, I was reluctant to go below 25 metres, so we began our dive at around 24 metres and slowly ascended by swimming around the Bommie. It proved to be an incredible, the pinnacle swathed in vibrant hard and soft corals, anemones and sea fans and sponges. The tip of the Bommie lies only 5 metres from the surface and if anything, the last

15 metres is the most stunning as a greater proportion of light is available to penetrate the water. Critters observed included a massive yellow Nudibranch, a couple of beautiful Lionfish,, Orange-lined Triggerfish, Pink Anemonefish (film) and Black Anemonefish, schooling Big-Eyed Trevally, Harlequin Sweetlips, Giant Clams, Coral Cod, Baracuda and the elusive Flame File Shell. Apparently, you won't find these things anywhere else in the world and appear attractive to fish by their red glowing light inside. Thought to be due to an ongoing chemical reaction, the fish think it's a disco and head on in, only they never leave the party.

A second dive (film) at this site revealed many of the same and much much more. We saw two Leaf-Scorpionfish which are very cool little scorpion fish which vaguely resemble leaves. They are very poisonous and not to be touched!! Hundreds of schooling Scale-Fin Anthias, Forcepfish and Orange-Spine Unicornfish and Regal Angelfish. The afternoon dive at Princess Bommie revealed delights not quite up to the previous standard, but I did find a lovely Flowery Cod, who just looked at me for about 10 minutes, having his photo taken. By the time everyone else had caught up, he must have felt like he was on the red carpet as everyone was flashing away. Several Cow-Faced Boxfish, Coral Beauties and Pennant Bannerfish later and that was day 2 over. This time, we both declined the offer of the night dive - especially upon hearing there was a bit of a current. How scary would that be??!! Lost at sea in the dark!

After another extremely turbulent night at sea, we were now only 3 hours away from Cairns. A rude awakening at 6am after very little sleep, meant a few of us sleepily made our way to get our wetsuits on. The sea had been so rough that our gear hadn't had chance to dry out as waves were breaking on deck throughout the night. It was cold! Luckily the sea temperature was about 24 degrees, so a half-wetsuit was enough for me. Andy did his best to look attractive by upping his insulation levels with the aid of a wetsuit material body suit which was like an old lady's bed jacket which fastened under his crotch with velcro'd gusset. Mmmm...

We were in the water by 6:15 and there was barely any sunlight. Due to our proximity with civilisation and city life, the visibility was reduced from 30metres of the previous day to around 10 metres. A few Nudibranchs and a bit of a play with the Christmas Tree Worms and this time I was glad when Andy signalled we should start our ascent. After brekkie, we did the same site again by which point there was much more light in the water and things looked more appealing. We then set sail for the final leg of the journey - back to dry land. Several hours after docking, and we were still feeling really 'boaty,' but were very relieved to get back to the camper and have a proper nights sleep!!! All-in-all the Barrier Reef was a fantastic experience. I've made many underwater friends. Maybe next time we decide to go on a liveaboard, the sea will be a bit kinder to us!




Listening to: Bic Runga - Beautiful Collision





Currently Reading: Joanne Lees - No Turning Back

Queensland

A 12-hour journey by air catapulted us to Queensland where we've been exploring the wonders of Cairns... or rather trying to escape being eaten alive or stung or pecked to death. It's very tropical over this part of the country as the humidity and 30 degree temperature indicates. It's bizarre to see ancient strangler-fig trees taking up the pavements, but a welcome relief from the row-upon-row of dive-outlets and cork-hat shops. I didn't know quite what to do when I found a kangaroo-scrotum bottle opener (the real job) a few days ago. Mix in a few groups of pissed-up blokes and you have Cairns in a nutshell. That's the city itself, of course there are the beaches which we've seen little of, but were intrigued enough by "Yorkie's Knob" to go and investigate. The beaches are very nice but those yellow signs are a little intimidating. Given that the harmelss-sounding 'Stingers' actually refer to the presence of the most poisonous species known to man - the Box Jellyfish. There body may only be 30 cm across, but its tentacles go on for 2 or 3 metres. As a bloke cheerfully informed us the other day "Get stung on your upper half of your body and without medical attention, you're dead within an hour." Thank goodness there is a bottle of emergency vinegar to be found on most beaches. Now I'm sorry, but if I'm attacked by some stinging monster of the deep, I don't think a bottle of Sarson's will fo far in my reassurrance.

A couple of nights in a lovely little traveller's rest called "Dreamtime" and sushi for 3 meals out of 4 and we were ready to hit the road again. Collecting our van from the Traveller's Autobarn (mark II), we were five minuted down the roads when we realised that the lock to the driver's side didn't work. A quick dash back to the depot and a swift lock-change had us on our way. It was only that night after stuffing it full of food, that we realsied the fridge didn't work. Nice one. We had to turn into proper campers and buy an Eskie (along with ice twice a day). A short drive down some snakey beach-side roads brought us to Mossman Gorge, a pretty swimming hole in the midldle of the pristine Daintree Rainforest. A gorgeous walk though the rainforest was nothing like the gruelling climatic extremes of the Bornean versions. However, it yielded none of the amazing wildlife either, but the sound-effects were all there.

Port Douglas is a bit of a swanky place, equipped with nice bars and posh-looking restaurants and hotels. It's probably the first time either of us have felt moany about cooking and eating in the a la carte kitchen and sleeping in the van. We wondered if we stood next to a table long enough whethere someone might feel sorry for us and chuck us a chicken drumstick, but we probably look far too well-nourished for that. After a nice Andy-dinner (sausage pasta), eaten whilst watching the fruit-bats swooping above our heads around the tree opposite, we headed out. Unfortunately, the bar hosting the evenings 'live cane toad racing' had sold out of tickets, so we went to the pub instead.

In order to reach Cape Tribulation, we had to board a ferry in the camper and take the 3 minute ride across the water. Somehow we felt much safer than a similar experience crossing that river in Laos with the motorbike. A trip down the river in the "River Train" provided a kind of Harry Potter meets Crocodile Dundee moment as we cruised along and absorbed information about the dangers of Northern Queensland. Not only did this involve being handed a jar full of Box Jellyfish (is that safe procedure on a moving vehicle?) whilst croc-spotting on the banks. Now your fresh-water crocs only grow to about 2 or 3 metres, but your saltwater (esturine) variety have reached proposterous dimensions of 10 metres (in India). 37 deaths have been attributed to croc-attacks in the past 100 years - the last one being only a year ago when a man decided to take on a big feller who was getting in the way of his fishing expedition. He met a very grizzly death but his wife managed to escape. They sleep on the bottom of the river, needing only one breath of air every four hours, and slow their heart-rate to 4 or 5 bpm. They thermoregulate by basking in the sun, something they need to do less and less now the water temperature is heating up (so they are harder to see).

Box-jellyfish, on the other hand have done away with 136 people in the last 7 years and contain enough toxin to see the demise of 27 humans in one go. We spotted three crocs in all, but they all looked quite small (2-3 metres), plus a tiny baby sitting on a log. We were accompanied throughout the trip by several green Tree Frogs who were temporarily residing on the boat, some nice birds with spoon-like bills and we stopped to look at a tree-snake and a python. It was an Amethystine Python is actually the largest snake in Oz, but is non-venemous. Apparently tree-dwelling snakes are relatively safe.

Cape Tribulation is World- Heritage listed as one of the very few places in the world where the rainforest meets coral reef. A much-photographed destination, the sweeping beach has beautiful views of the surrounding rainforest and mangroves. The only bummer is that there is a 4.5 metre salt-water croc living there at the moment. We couldn't quite realx enough to lie down, so went for a walk to the lookout instead. Visitors to the surrounding jungle area have recently sighted a large male Cassowary. These prehistoric-looking birds are related to the Kiwi and are massive and ugly and pecky and so approaching one is (surprise, surprise) quite dangerous. This one in particular has been approaching people and the signs advise you to make a lot of noise and clap at it if this occurs.

As if that weren't danger enough, you have to be vigilent on checking the tide-times before you head on down to the beach. Get it wrong and you find yourself in the middle of the mangrove with the water level rising around you. So, armed with our new tide-timetable, we headed off from our jungle camp to have a look about. Any excuse to abandon the community of travellers who were entertaining themselves by swirling batons around their heads and playing crap music for all to endure (oh dear). Our look about didn't get us far as I'd had the forthought to bring a box of vino with us. Anything to get Andy to sit down as
he just kept pacing about, periodically peering into the mangrove for any snapping jaws. We drank quite an amount of wine and ended up having a row about nothing, culminating in Andy abandoning our futile game of Scrabble. Evidence the next day suggested he's had a terrible selection of vowels. Luckily, arguments have been extremely few and far between - quite fortunate when you're living in the Scooby-Doo van. Stopping by at the Daintree Ice-cream Company (we had home-made apricot, raspberry, wattle seed and coconut, mmmm!), we paused to consider the fantastic surrounding landscapes and gardens (below right).

One particular noteworthy argument took place between us and an old bag who worked at the campsite in Port Douglas. I got the inkling she was a little controlling when she insisted on directing Andy into his precise camping spot. The next morning she came round with a clip-board and asked if we were leaving. Confirming that we were, she looked at her watch and said "Just watch your time" with an artificial grimace pasted to her mental face. It was quarter to 10 and checkout of these places is usually 10, but as you would expect, it's usually quite a relaxed affair as there are no beds to make or rooms to clean. Andy was on the BBQ doing some bacon, when she swirled by five minutes later, walky-talky clipped onto shorts. "Just making brekkie is he, well, you don't have..." I cut her off saying we wouldn't be long. Anyway, we'd just sat down to what was possibly the best bacon sarnie we've ever had (toasted Turkish bread, BBQ'd proper bacon and cherry tomatoes, mayo) when she couldn't resist coming over again to gleefully inform us that "If we weren't out by 10:15 she's be charging us for another day."

What an old boot. There were many people around us who were also leaving a little after time and they didn't seem to be getting the brunt of this old witch. As we sped out of there cursing and incredulousat 10:12, heartburn roaring in our chests as we noted that there were five empty spaces and nobody waiting to check-in. How dare she interrupt the best bacon buttie of our lives??? To think we were worried about an aggressive cassowary...

Time to explore this Great Barrier Reef...


Next installment : Will Sam & Andy find any giant cod in the Cod Hole?












Currently can't read quick enough: Between a Rock and a Hard Place, Aron Ralston.