Seals and rubber boats

Oh, ok so their proper name is an Inflatable Rubber Boat, or IRB. Really it doesn't matter! What's way more interesting is the fun you can have with them :D

One of the local rescue boats

Years ago, way BC (before kids) we succumbed to the allure of one of these magical, hysterically fun little craft, and had an absolute ball fanging around in it. On occasion we were pulled over by the Water Police, not so much for acting irresponsibly (good grief, of course not!), but because it seems to be expected that the owners of such craft are likely to flout regulations like carrying PFD's (personal floatation device - aka life jacket), flares and things like that which the police happen to consider are extremely important. Being little Goody Two Shoes, we always had the requisite bits and bobs, I suspect much to the chagrin of the coppers!

However, there was one occasion when we kind of bit off more than we could chew ... well, only one occasion for the purposes of this post ;)

Seal Rocks are to the right of the mound (The Nobbies) on the horizon

We decided to head off to Seal Rocks, in Westernport Bay. It was a long time ago, before it was a no-no to swim with the seals. We pulled up in a little rocky nook out of the swell and waves, all the better to get up close and personal with the fur seals. The smell was overpowering - putrid stench is a better term. It oozes off the rocks and out of the murky pooey water. They stink. The whole area stinks. You gag with the pong. I guess it's the rotting fish, lack of oral hygiene, and the burping and farting of the big boys and girls out there!

My cousin, lovely boy that he was, decided that it would be interesting to get out of the boat and see what a seal looked like from closer quarters. Hmmm. Is this a good idea? They're big. They have harems. They can get rather grumpy and chase off interlopers in an aggressive kind of way. Did I mention they're BIG? Really big!

"No worries" says Cuz, "She'll be right"- and off he goes scrambling awkwardly over the unfriendly black rocks.

He lasted for oh, I'd guess about 30 seconds...

It's fair to say I've never seen anyone move so fast and for all intents and purposes enact the classic cartoon manoeuvre of running through the air. The massive bull seal was outraged and determined to see off the interloper who was clearly after his harem! The noise!!! OMG He was furious and letting every being with kilometres know that he meant business!

Slender cousin extracted himself from the sharp, rocky and ultimately unwelcoming outcrop, faster than any of those highly trained lycra clad elite Olympic athletes strutting their stuff on slick surfaces!

Needless to say, my husband and I were doubled up with laughter, tears streaming down faces, yet well aware of the potential danger dear Cuz was facing. Frantically, hubby tried to start the strangely recalcitrant engine and manoeuvre the suddenly slothful boat ready for an inelegant landing and a James Bond style get-away.

Eyes round, and clearly extremely concerned, and making some very odd squawky noises, Cuz flailed and flew, scrabbling at the slick red rubber of the boat, with petite me dragging at any patch of wetsuit and clawing to drag him to safety. Satisfied, the bull seal harrumphed and snorted his way back to his precious harem as we skittered off to a safe distance to reflect on what could possibly have gone wrong.

Which is all a long way of saying we went for a stroll along the safe sands near Seal Rocks this morning and reminisced.

Now I wonder if Cuz has told his children of this particular adventure or will I share the link to this post on FB?

Seaweed. Safer than seals!

Seaweed and shadow.

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Summertime escapism

How many times have you heard "The best camera is the one you have with you", and how often have you wished you'd taken that advice? 

If my husband had packed the camera one fine day a couple of weeks ago,  and if he'd been quick off the mark and possibly elbowed aside a couple of hundred hefty fisherpersons, onlookers and tourists, we'd have a video to rival the one below. 

Unfortunately, the camera was nestled safely at home. On the kitchen table. Snug in it's little case. Gathering dust. Ignored and lonesome.

This is our local pier. Normally it's packed with fishermen and women experiencing varying degrees of success in the fish catching stakes.

 The pier was rotting, so the authorities decided it would be a good idea to partially reconstruct it.

The pier doesn't usually attract noisy crowds, but this fine sunny Sunday, people were lined up leaning all along the railing, hooting with laughter and cheering. Fishing rods, bait and buckets lay where they had been flung aside - their owners enthusiastically elbowing each other aside to watch the show.

A fisherman had caught a garfish and had been reeling it in with glee. A passing duck saw an opportunity to freeload and wasn't going to let the tasty flapping fish pass. He wanted that fish!

The fish was well hooked.

The fisherman wanted the fish. The duck wanted the fish. The fish wanted to get away.

The fish was caught between the proverbial rock and hard place. There was a tussle of gigantic proportions. Some of the rapidly swelling crowd took the side of the duck, some took the side of the fisherman. A few kindhearted souls took the side of the fish.

Seconds turned into minutes. The fisherman reeled. The duck tugged. The fish flapped. The tug of war seemed to be stretching the already slender fish.

Being Australia, no doubt someone was taking bets.

When the duck   f i n a l l y   won, there was more laughter and cheering, general slapping of backs and smiles all round.

And the serious business of fishing resumed!

Watch till the end. There's one crazy guy in a kayak - with shark!

Everyone has a fishing story! What's yours?

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Day photos of a perfect night in Yangshuo

Stars float in the dark velvety sky, music from a wooden reed flute hovers, rich and light; the notes float as I do too, in the pool. This is an idyllic, simple pleasure, no demands, just floating in time and space - timeless perfection.

Children giggle and splash in the nearby river, no distinct voices or words, just sheer, unadulterated joy in the perfect moment.

This place, not tied to any particular era is uniquely Chinese. Majestic karst mountains are silhouetted softly against the moonlit sky, deep valleys are a darker shade of blue-grey, the reed flute music is transient yet timeless - ancient, haunting, beautiful.

I could float in the warm water forever; it’s a perfect temperature and laps gently on my chin as I tickle the mirrored surface with my fingertips. The lazy breeze plays about my damp hair and face, warm and refreshing after the heat and gritty humidity of the day.

Lilting and trilling notes enfold me, transport me to times long gone, to my childhood fairy stories of an idealised China - of elegance, rich silks, harmony and balance.

Iridescent blue dragonflies appear briefly in the fingers of light to hover and dip, before being absorbed in the surrounding dark. Bright butterflies, (a night-time variety?) fleeting gems of colour, seem also to be drawn to the music.

Day variety of dragonfly.

Ghost gums, lithe limbed and sinewy stretch toward the moon and contrast strangely with the tall lush bamboo, which appears top heavy and arches gracefully towards the pool.

Ghost gums vie for height with drooping stands of bamboo.

I feel so fortunate to have experienced this perfectly balanced evening, but eventually pruned fingers and toes put a stop to my reverie.

What moments bring you joy? Do you remember to revisit them often?
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aros. Laughter

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Cradling a hot mug of tea
I sip
then guffaw loudly
when reading the comments on one (of many) favourite blogs
awed at minds that can make me laugh out loud.

Later,
watch the blue of the cleaning cloth
smear traces of tea -
a circular pattern

until the screen is clean again.

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A river of stones is a project started by Fiona &Kaspa to encourage people to engage with the world through writing. In 2011 they invited people to join them in writing a small stone each day during January.