Basking on the beach

 The days activities were very much morning focused. Up early and down to the harbor (2 minutes in the buggy) was thrown into total confusion by a shower of rain! I mean what the heck? Perfect the next day sure… but where to go from there? Can’t it please stay that way Laura? Does this mean we have to start from crappy and work our way up again?

Luckily enough we were mindful of the early morning coffee queues and thus had adequate time to get our beverages and join the queue for the Cat out to Whitehaven beach. It was a rough trip for some and thoroughly enjoyable for those of us with the fortitude to love riding the high seas. The well trained crew were perfectly poised with bags for anyone who needed them. In hindsight it must be a game for them, play it right and all is good – play it wrong and they have to clean up the mess. Really feel sorry for the poor kid who’s dad though the best way to handle his sea sickness is to keep his face buried in the vomit bag. Maybe breath of fresh air and a view of the horizon occasionally would have helped. Whatever, the kid lived and seamed no worse off later when on the pristine sand with bucket and spade in hand.

Whitehaven beach is famous for being really white and a real haven for people to…taken haven in (I guess). Apparently the sand is 98% silica – the other 2% reminding everyone that nothing in nature is ever 100% perfect – not even in one of the most beautiful and pristine places on the planet. We had a few hours to frolic on the sand and in the water of which we did. Because it’s stinger season (so we were led to believe) we had to don stinger suits which effectively made the water look like it was being invaded by Teletubbies. Suspect the tour guides made us put these on just so they could laugh at us – however we didn’t care because we are tourists, paying to do what we are told, and do it when we are told and besides … no one would ever take photos of such a demeaning situation.

Cynicism (and pride) aside – the suits were actually quite comfortable, let the water through and were like a second skin – someone has done their fibrous technology homework well there. However, there is more to these parts than simply blue skies, turquoise waters, pine and palm trees lining the island slopes – there are also the bountiful beautiful bare bottoms basking on the bright beach brilliantly breaking the boredom of bemoaned bachelorhood.

Excessive wordsmithing aside it was a great interlude, we wandered up the beach, wandered back, went for a swim, paddled an SUP for a bit (we are now Suppers) and whiled away the time fighting off the inevitable camp stealing crows, spotting goannas and general people watching.

This place would truly be a haven if these pesky tourist boats full of Teletubbies stopped dominating the place.

The trip home was less eventful on people’s stomachs and it was great to see the island (and our abode) from another perspective (sea level). Hoping off the boat we hopped into the buggy and hopped over to Bob’s (the Baker) on Front Street and feasted on his fares – which is fast becoming a daily pattern here – his pies are really good.

Buggying back up the hill to the abode (must take all of 3 minutes) we spent the afternoon winding down and resetting before heading off to the IGA (now a daily event) to collect our expensive seafood BBQ platter. Really good intentions – unfortunately the execution (bloggers cooking skills on an unfamiliar BBQ) let us down a bit. Not much – just a bit. Still – with the million-dollar views, another rain shower setting off every bird in the valley as the setting sun lit up the cumulus clouds drifting over the pristine waterways defined by spectacular tree covered hills – who could argue about the daily touristy classification?