Monday, May 24, 2010

Western Australia: The way up (May 15 - May 22)




We arrived in Perth and took a cab directly to the Apollo rental center.  There we picked up the baby brother of the Euro tourer camper van we had along the Great Ocean Road.  It was still a Hi-Top (you can stand in it), but it lacked a toilet, shower and the extra room Lindsay had come to expect and love.  Off we went heading north.  We were both so excited to be on the open highway, cruising along with the road trains through the deserts and coastline of Western Australia.  I was so excited, in fact, that I left my credit card back at the rental office.  After the one hour round trip trek back to the office to get the card, we were once again heading north.  We had over 1,600 kilometers to go to reach our final destination of Exmouth, so we figured we would break up the trip with a few areas of interest along the way.


In the late afternoon we pulled into the town of Cervantes, rushed through the general store to pick up a few groceries, and made our way out of town to catch sunset at the Pinnacles.  The Pinnacles are bunch of limestone pillars rising up from an area of sand dunes near the coast.  It's one of the attractions found in all the guidebooks, so we figured we would stop.  We sat on the dunes and enjoyed a beautiful evening before returning to the Cervantes camper van park, having some grub, and hitting the hay.


MAY 16!!! As I awoke in the back of the van to the sounds of kookaburras, I thought about where I was a year ago.  I could remember my last day of freedom well.  I was hanging out in the El Conquistador pool, slurping down mango daiquiris in between my multiple trips down the water slide.  I could remember friends and family everywhere, smiling.  I remember it being warm as I put on my guayabera and walked out on the grass.  I also could remember how beautiful Lindsay looked in her dress as her dad escorted her toward me.  So I got up, walked down to the caravan park office and bought a postcard.  I addressed it to “My Wife,” wrote some lovey dovey things on it and returned to the van.  There I told my still sleepy wife that the postman had just driven up and handed me this post card.  Thank the heavens for Lindsay's never-ending gullibility.  She seemed amazed, grabbed the card out of my hand and then smiled.  The rest of our anniversary was great.  We drove north from Cervantes to the town/national park of Kalbarri.  Along the way we took a few clifftop walks overlooking the Indian Ocean below.  

The Kalbarri caravan park was right across the road from the beach and we got a primo spot.  About an hour before sunset, we drove over to a secluded beach called Chinaman’s Point.  There we took out the camp chairs, my guitar, the chips and onion dip, and parked ourselves facing the pounding surf and the setting sun.  We opened up a nice bottle of wine and talked about what an amazing first year of marriage we had had. I also serenaded her with a few new verses of the song I sang her at our wedding.  You can say what you want about my burping, lack of hygiene, and propensity to scare and/or tease my wife, but as for romantic setting for our first anniversary, I done OK.  Later that evening we went to Finlay's, an outdoor BBQ with campfires, for a fresh fish dinner.


The next morning we were up early for a canoe tour of the Murchison River.  We were dropped off 10K north of town and canoed our way back down.  Halfway though we were treated to an outstanding traditional Aussie brekky. 



Once we were back on terra firma Lindsay worked while I ran a very important errand.  I walked up to the fishing/dive shop and purchased two “Mossie Head Nets,” or mosquito nets that just cover your head.  The flies had been moderately irritating on the river, but we were told they were worse in the National Park.  We drove to the river gorges of the national park, donned our MHNs and took a walk.  At first, I was embarrassed to be wearing such a dorky piece of head gear.  Soon enough I realized that the phrase “function before fashion” never was more appropriate.  I smiled as we casually strolled past the other running, arm-waving visitors to the park who had no respite from the buzzing swarms.  After a walk down to the river, we returned to camp and cooked up a mean pepper steak with onions and capsicum.



The next day was a loooooooong one.  We left Kalbarri and drove 9 hours north, stopping only at the occasional roadhouse for petrol, diet coke, or beef jerky.  Lindsay had a very productive day working in the front seat (thank you Dramamine and caffeine) and I kept myself entertained by listening to the unabridged audio book “Dracula” by Brahm Stoker. 


The last hour of driving was through a desert landscape filled with innumerable towering termite mounds and the occasional wayward emu on the side of the road.  We finally arrived at Exmouth, just before sunset, pooped from the long drive.


The following day was spent exploring the North West Cape around Exmouth with its amazing Cape Range National Park on land and Ningaloo Reef Marine Reserve off shore.  We rented some snorkel gear from the dive shop next door and off we went.  Our first stop was at Turquoise Lagoon, where we experienced a stellar drift snorkel over the pristine reef.  We saw all sorts of coral and fish along with three green turtles munching on the reef.  From there we drove to Oyster Stacks for another nice snorkel. 



After that we drove to the end of the road and took a hike up Yardie Creek, the main supply of fresh water for the entire Cape.  It was a beautiful spot chockers with Euros, the local marsupials also known as wallaroos.  Our day ended on a large hill by the lighthouse with me playing a little guitar and Lindsay having a glass of wine as the sun set over the reef.
  



When we returned to the caravan park, there was a note on our power box to go to the dive shop ASAP.  I walked over and was informed that one of the company's two boats was broken, so our live aboard that we had planned for months in advance wouldn’t be starting until the evening of the 20th.  This would mean we would be missing 3 of the original 11 scheduled dives.  Needless to say, this did not make me very happy.  But what can you do when a boat is broken?  Not much.  In place of the dives, the company offered us a “whalesharking” trip, which left at 7:20am on the 20th rather than 8:30am, the time of our original live aboard trip.  I agreed to the plan and then returned to the van and let my ever calm and understanding wife know that not only was our dive trip truncated, but now we would have to get up an hour earlier. She took it very well.






The next morning came too quickly, but we were at the shop and ready to go by 7:15.  I reminded Lindsay that this, the 20th, was our actual legal anniversary, but she was too tired to return much affection.  From there we were shuttled down to the beach and taken to the boat via a zodiac.  It was a bright blue cloudless beautiful day and the water was like glass.  Ten minutes after we started out to sea, the spotter planes (they use spotter planes to find the whale sharks and direct the boats to their location) had found us our first shark.  Fifteen minutes later, masks and fins on, sitting on the back of the boat, the call was given.  “Go, go, go!”  We all entered the deep blue water and swam as fast as we could following our guide.  For the first few minutes it was endless blue water in every direction.  Then, off in the distance, an indistinct shape appeared.  A few seconds later and we were face to face with a juvenile male whale shark, the largest species of fish in the sea.  It was AWESOME!  I had seen them once before in Thailand while diving, but for Lindsay, this was her first encounter with these gentle giants.  The shark slowly moved through the water and we swam on the side and behind it.  We swam for about 5 minutes and then stopped to allow the next group to have a turn.  For the next four hours we had about ten swims with four or five different sharks, the largest being 4 meters (13 feet) long.  Most of these were juvenile males, and not nearly their maximum size….12 meters or 39 feet. 


One famous/infamous story about this operation, which is apparently true, is that a few years back, a novice spotter pilot directed a boat to an 18 foot whale shark.  The only problem was that when the boat arrived, they discovered that while it was indeed 18 feet, it was not a whale shark….it was a tiger shark.  Needless to say, they did not go for a swim there that day.

Once the swims were done, we returned to the shelter of the reef and everyone but Lindsay and I took zodiacs back to shore.  We stayed on and found our cozy little two-person cabin below deck.  Once settled, we accompanied Christian, one of the crew members, back to shore to pick up some chum to be used to lure in Teri the tiger shark later that evening.  We landed ashore and then walked up to the fish cleaning station where we got to talking with a few older fisherman just back from a successful day.  So successful were they that they were kind enough to treat us to the freshest blue fin tuna sashimi we have ever had.  They took out the whole fish and started cleaning it.  Then they cut us off a few hunks, which we immediately popped in our mouths.  No wasabi or ginger, but D-licious!  We collected a bucketful of other fish remains and headed back to the boat.  By that time the other six passengers and five crew members had begun to come aboard.  We did the introduction/safety thing and took off for the first dive of the trip…a night dive.


Now, I have over 45 dives under my belt and Lindsay is up to around 30, but starting a dive trip with a night dive is not ideal.  Starting in the day allows you time to work out any kinks while you can still use your vision.  For example, finding out that the seal in your mask is torn down at 25 meters in pitch black water is as far from fun.  For me, that was only the beginning.  Anyway, around 6:30pm we jumped in the water.  I had on my wetsuit, BCD and weight belt, mask, snorkel, and fins.  The weight was the same that I usually use.  I didn’t realize at the time that the wetsuits were thicker and therefore more buoyant, which meant I should have added more weight to my belt.  So down we went into the blackness.  Almost immediately my mask started leaking.  Just a little at first…no big thing.  I cleared it underwater and went on.  Soon I noticed that water was actually dripping from the top, which is very unusual.  But by this time we were twenty or so meters down and the dive masters were already heading off, requiring us to get moving and follow.  We had been split into two groups, but with everyone in their black wetsuits and only having met a few hours earlier, the confusion as to who was who set in early.  I kept a close eye on Lindsay, but almost immediately lost sight of the group leader.  One look at the others faces and I could tell everyone was a bit lost.  We proceeded, and for awhile all was okay.  We saw a very large ray, and woke up at least four giant sleeping turtles.  My mask continued to fill up rapidly with sea water and I had to clear it nearly ever minute or so.  As the dive was getting near an end and we were about to begin our safety stop, my left calf suddenly went into a severe and sudden cramp.  It’s the kind you can feel coming but are powerless to fight off.  As soon as that one hit, my other leg did the same.  So there I was seven meters under the surface, blinded by seawater, barely able to swim, and I noticing I was moving toward the surface faster than I should be.  I tried to adjust.  I tried to swim.  I tried to release the air out of my BCD.  Lindsay tried to grab me and pull me down.  None of it worked and I rose up an up until my head popped out of the ocean.  In retrospect, I was safe.  All of the dives that 99% of people go on are within no decompression limits, which basically means that the odds of getting the bends are very very low and safety stops (a few minutes of hanging out 5 meters below the surface - a means of being very very conservative) are technically optional.  And, my maximum depth was only about 16 meters.  But sitting on the surface in the pitch black night, calves screaming in pain, knowing that I had not done the universal safety stop, I was worried.  I didn’t have enough weight to go down so I found someone else, borrowed a weight, and went back to five meters for a few minutes.  When I resurfaced, I saw that I had drifted quite far and was all alone, floating in the dark, the ship being quite a ways off.  This was not how I had hoped the dive trip would start off.  Over the next fifteen minutes, I slowly made my way back to the boat and got on board.  It was by FAR the worst dive of my life and it took awhile to calm down from.  My calves were still very tight and one of the crew helped me loosen up.  Later that evening, we had a nice steak dinner and strung up the chum off the back of the boat in an effort to get Teri (the tiger shark) to pay a visit.  In the middle of dinner we saw the rope that contained the chum tighten.  Soon we heard splashing at the back of the boat and we all raced to see Teri.  It wasn't Teri, but instead two tawny nurse sharks were toying with the chum.  By about 10:30pm,  we were all tired and Teri hadn't arrived so we hit the hay.  While we were sleeping, however, she showed up, grabbed the chum, and ripped the rope to shreds.


The next day was much better.  Mask replaced, weights added, and calves functional, we jumped back in the water.  We did three dives during the day and saw wonderful fish, coral, sharks, rays, and one person saw a dugong (manatee).  The highlight of the day was at a dive site called “Hole in the wall,” where we swam through fish-filled caves and canyons.  As grandma would say Ma-vah-lous! In the afternoon as we cruised along between dive sites we were visited by a family of humpback whales on their yearly migration.



The food on the boat was good and the crew was even better.  That evening, despite Lindsay’s decision to stay dry, I decided to get back on the horse and go for another night dive.  This time it was great.


The next day, a bit of rough weather moved in.  By mid morning the wind had picked up and the whitecaps were alive.  Our first dive was a bit of an adventure.  Due to the rising swells, we had to time our giant stride off the boat just right to avoid the crashing waves.  Sitting on the surface was a bit challenging, but as soon as we descended into the water, things calmed down and we were in diving paradise.  From the moment we neared the sea floor it was a great dive.  We swam with at least four sharks, a wobbegong, lion fish, huge rays, sea snakes and all sorts of cool critters. 






Upon returning to the surface we found the wind had picked up even more making the climb back on deck a challenge to say the least.  Due to the weather we had to cancel one of our final two dives, but considering the swell, no one was too upset.  Once we were all on board, we took a rocky ride back to the harbor and disembarked.  From there a shuttle brought us back to the caravan park. Exhausted, we opted not to cook and instead went across the street to Pinocchio's for a blue cheese/jalapeno/chorizo pizza and later met up with some of our dive trip buddies for a beer at the Potshot Hotel Pub.  From here on out we would be heading south.





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