AIRLIE BEACH, QUEENSLAND - 11th January 2010
No point beating around the bush here. About 2 hours ago I had my digital camera stolen from my hostel room.
In the 5 minutes I was out of the room walking to the laundry room and back, or the 5 minutes I was out at the supermarket, a French girl staying in the same room was stupid enough to not just let in a complete stranger when he claimed he'd "left something behind", but leave him alone in the room. 20 minutes later, I'm making a sandwich and the girl comes asking if I've seen a man from our room, because her "camera is gone". With mine gone as well, it doesn't take much imagination to guess I was far from impressed.
Thankfully, the summer 2008 theft of my mobile phone with 4 weeks of travelling photos in Kho Pangan, Thailand - unofficially known as the "Curious Incident of the Berghaus Bag" - left its mark on me in terms of securing my photos, and everything up to and including Brisbane is safely backed up on my portable memory stick. Unfortunately, all my photos from Fraser Island - which were both plentiful and, arguably, the best photos from all of Australia (particularly of Lake Mackenzie) - as well as those from the Whitsundays are all lost... which is pretty gutting.
One other blessing is that as a result of doing four dives on the Wings II Whitsundays cruise, I got a free DVD with hundreds of photos from our time there, including many duplicates of ones on my camera. The police (who blatently agreed with my assessment of this girl's stupidity) said CCTV might give them a lead on this one, but even for a camera that has been lost twice before finding its way back to me (most notably at the Reading Festival in August, when these kids picked it up, snapped a load of photos of themselves, then returned it to Lost Property), I can't say I'm optimistic.
Silver linings are always around though, and in this case it means I can get the money from insurance and spend it on buying myself a fancy new SLR-esque camera in duty free before I leave to New Zealand in a few days time!
THE DAILY ROD's Top Travel Tips:
#9 - Trusting the French may be fine, but trusting those trusted by
the French will probably end badly.
Showing posts with label Airlie Beach. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Airlie Beach. Show all posts
Monday, 11 January 2010
Finding Nemo (or not)
AIRLIE BEACH, QUEENSLAND - 11th January 2010
The list of things I've got to try at least once in my life has got one item shorter, and the list of things that are gonna cost me a lot of money due to their adrenaline-inducing addictive nature has an addition. Scuba Diving? Check.
Fraser Island's team festivities culminated with an all-you-can-eat pizza bonanza back at Hervey Bay on the mainland, which formed the prelude to yet another overnight journey. Waking from an inertial state of slumber that certainly isn't conscious, but is too uncomfortable to be considered sleep, I had to admit that spending 5 nights in 8 days on a bus is far from ideal - not to mention just 3 nights on a bed a bed since leaving Melbourne 12 days back. However, with the age-old adage of "man up" drilled into me from years of Juddian conditioning, it was hop skip and jump out of the Premier Motor Coach when, 14 hours later, we arrived here in Airley Beach - the gateway to the Whitsundays.
To quote the LPG, "just about every outdoor-loving Australian dreams of rocking up the says and reef on a yacht in the Whitsundays". Thanks to a $1000 splurge of bookings back at Byron Bay, I'd already sorted mine, and just about managed to find my way to Abel Point Marina at 1pm all set 48-hour 2 night trip aboard the catamaran "Wings II".
Of the 24 of us on board, a big solid majority were intro divers - and I was far from alone in having doubts about whether I actually wanted to do it. However, just like most things that might involve a morsel of two of fun, I was pretty easily convinced by the dive instructors on board, and just a couple of hours after leaving the mainland we were docked at Blue Pearl Bay, loaded with scuba gear, and out doing our "skills". Confirming we all had the mental capacity to breathe through our mouths rather than our noses was easy enough, so it was straight down underwater and in amongst the schools of fish and vast masses coral that give the Great Barrier Reef the awe-inspiring fame it commands.
With pretty much the whole boat deciding to dive, and being in the last group out, we got to see a bit of a transition between the day fish and their nighttime counterparts, but before we knew it it was time to resurface - cue general elation over going diving!
Back in Byron Bay the travel agent - going by the name of Will Smith - had shown me a few Whitsunday tour operators, but any indecision over which to choose was settled when food was brought up. Wings provides a veritable feast, 3 times a day, for the duration of your trip, and the proof was indeed in the pudding - we arrived back at the boat to the wafting smell of barbecued chicken (there's a barbecue on board everything here), pasta bake, Ceasar salad, all sorts of veg, and all of that followed by apple strudel for dessert. Fantastic.
Beer o'clock followed while we watched a couple of Giant Trevallys circling the back of the boat (see right), but fatigue booze combining with the prospect of an early start (with rough seas) in the morning, I was out like a log by about midnight. Next thing I know its morning and we're in Manteray Bay - all set for another round of diving. This time I'm in group 1, so it's straight underwater in amongst some deeper and more complex reef, seeing sea clams and angel fish and some amazing coral.
Whenever the boat is docked for people to go diving, anyone else is free to go snorkeling to see what they can see. Cool as my early morning's dive was, it was trumped about half an hour later when I went snorkelling with a guy called Robbie. The sun was shining, the water was clear, and thanks to a great stroke of luck Robbie managed to spot a whopping great big turtle that we proceeded to follow for the next 15 minutes, taking turns to duck dive under and around him and give him a pat on the back (/shell). At one stage, his route in and around the bay took us through the middle of a school of millions of tiny fish - everywhere you looked there were these tiny creatures floating in the water, dodging out the way of the colossal mass of Mr. Turtle as he whiled away another of his days. If an underwater camera was ever needed, it was then.
We moved down the coast to Luncheon Bay where, sure enough, we had lunch - but the Subway sandwich-esque array of breads, fillings and salads was not before another scuba dive by "Nemo City". As Adam the dive instructor so rightly said, once you've seen one Nemo fish you've seen them all, but it was still a bit of a shame to not see any! Nemo was not found...
Water-based activities ceased post-lunch, as we took on the wind and ploughed through mega-choppy waters down to the little piece of paradise known as Whitehaven Beach. Ranked by both National Geographic and Lonely Planet as one of the best 2 beaches in the world, Whitehaven's sand is 98.7% silica, giving it the most phenomenal white colour and flour-like texture of anything I've ever seen. A lookout provides spectacular views like these...
While the beach itself isn't half bad either:
Cheesy photos, art in the sand, back the bid and beach football in the sunset all exhausted, we trekked back across the island to Tongue Point, back to our boat, and tucked into another salivatious dinner - BBQ sausages and steak with potato, tuna, and egg salads, with chocolate and/or caramel cakes for dessert.
Post-dinner we headed back north so that we'd be nearer to our final dive point this morning - and I was woken up at 6.45am with the news that we were all set for one last dive before heading back to land. 35mins or so 12 metres under the surface, seeing stingrays, batfish and loads of little guys - then back to the surface, back to the boat, and 2 hours sailing later, back to Airley Beach and dry land. Phwoar.
The list of things I've got to try at least once in my life has got one item shorter, and the list of things that are gonna cost me a lot of money due to their adrenaline-inducing addictive nature has an addition. Scuba Diving? Check.
Fraser Island's team festivities culminated with an all-you-can-eat pizza bonanza back at Hervey Bay on the mainland, which formed the prelude to yet another overnight journey. Waking from an inertial state of slumber that certainly isn't conscious, but is too uncomfortable to be considered sleep, I had to admit that spending 5 nights in 8 days on a bus is far from ideal - not to mention just 3 nights on a bed a bed since leaving Melbourne 12 days back. However, with the age-old adage of "man up" drilled into me from years of Juddian conditioning, it was hop skip and jump out of the Premier Motor Coach when, 14 hours later, we arrived here in Airley Beach - the gateway to the Whitsundays.
To quote the LPG, "just about every outdoor-loving Australian dreams of rocking up the says and reef on a yacht in the Whitsundays". Thanks to a $1000 splurge of bookings back at Byron Bay, I'd already sorted mine, and just about managed to find my way to Abel Point Marina at 1pm all set 48-hour 2 night trip aboard the catamaran "Wings II".
Of the 24 of us on board, a big solid majority were intro divers - and I was far from alone in having doubts about whether I actually wanted to do it. However, just like most things that might involve a morsel of two of fun, I was pretty easily convinced by the dive instructors on board, and just a couple of hours after leaving the mainland we were docked at Blue Pearl Bay, loaded with scuba gear, and out doing our "skills". Confirming we all had the mental capacity to breathe through our mouths rather than our noses was easy enough, so it was straight down underwater and in amongst the schools of fish and vast masses coral that give the Great Barrier Reef the awe-inspiring fame it commands.
With pretty much the whole boat deciding to dive, and being in the last group out, we got to see a bit of a transition between the day fish and their nighttime counterparts, but before we knew it it was time to resurface - cue general elation over going diving!
Back in Byron Bay the travel agent - going by the name of Will Smith - had shown me a few Whitsunday tour operators, but any indecision over which to choose was settled when food was brought up. Wings provides a veritable feast, 3 times a day, for the duration of your trip, and the proof was indeed in the pudding - we arrived back at the boat to the wafting smell of barbecued chicken (there's a barbecue on board everything here), pasta bake, Ceasar salad, all sorts of veg, and all of that followed by apple strudel for dessert. Fantastic.
Beer o'clock followed while we watched a couple of Giant Trevallys circling the back of the boat (see right), but fatigue booze combining with the prospect of an early start (with rough seas) in the morning, I was out like a log by about midnight. Next thing I know its morning and we're in Manteray Bay - all set for another round of diving. This time I'm in group 1, so it's straight underwater in amongst some deeper and more complex reef, seeing sea clams and angel fish and some amazing coral.
Whenever the boat is docked for people to go diving, anyone else is free to go snorkeling to see what they can see. Cool as my early morning's dive was, it was trumped about half an hour later when I went snorkelling with a guy called Robbie. The sun was shining, the water was clear, and thanks to a great stroke of luck Robbie managed to spot a whopping great big turtle that we proceeded to follow for the next 15 minutes, taking turns to duck dive under and around him and give him a pat on the back (/shell). At one stage, his route in and around the bay took us through the middle of a school of millions of tiny fish - everywhere you looked there were these tiny creatures floating in the water, dodging out the way of the colossal mass of Mr. Turtle as he whiled away another of his days. If an underwater camera was ever needed, it was then.
We moved down the coast to Luncheon Bay where, sure enough, we had lunch - but the Subway sandwich-esque array of breads, fillings and salads was not before another scuba dive by "Nemo City". As Adam the dive instructor so rightly said, once you've seen one Nemo fish you've seen them all, but it was still a bit of a shame to not see any! Nemo was not found...
Water-based activities ceased post-lunch, as we took on the wind and ploughed through mega-choppy waters down to the little piece of paradise known as Whitehaven Beach. Ranked by both National Geographic and Lonely Planet as one of the best 2 beaches in the world, Whitehaven's sand is 98.7% silica, giving it the most phenomenal white colour and flour-like texture of anything I've ever seen. A lookout provides spectacular views like these...
While the beach itself isn't half bad either:
Cheesy photos, art in the sand, back the bid and beach football in the sunset all exhausted, we trekked back across the island to Tongue Point, back to our boat, and tucked into another salivatious dinner - BBQ sausages and steak with potato, tuna, and egg salads, with chocolate and/or caramel cakes for dessert.
Post-dinner we headed back north so that we'd be nearer to our final dive point this morning - and I was woken up at 6.45am with the news that we were all set for one last dive before heading back to land. 35mins or so 12 metres under the surface, seeing stingrays, batfish and loads of little guys - then back to the surface, back to the boat, and 2 hours sailing later, back to Airley Beach and dry land. Phwoar.
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