THREE MIDDLE AGED MEN IN A PINK DINGHY

Beach party, New Year's Eve, Wongarra Beach

Shells underwater, the Otways

Drinks on the beach, New Year's Eve, Wongarra Beach

Beach party, New Year's Eve, Wongarra Beach

White seabird taking flight off rocks, the Otways

We didn’t expect to ring in the New Year wondering whether three men in a pink dinghy were going to drown in a spontaneous burst of drunken cray-fishing. Luckily they didn’t, their children’s toy boat good humoured enough to keep afloat it heavy load, a held breath away from being inundated by each tiny wave.

Picnics on the beach next to strangers in fading light soon lead to lively conversations with a beer in the hand. Full bellied contentment, squint eyed games of beach cricket and frisbee lit by fireworks with Gracie dogs collar held tight.

Continue Reading

THE OCEAN CRASHES ONTO THE ADVENTUROUS

Crashing waves, the Twelve Apostles, Port Campbell National Park


Windswept by the Twelve Apostles, Port Campbell National Park

The Twelve Apostles, Port Campbell National Park

Tourists on the beach near the Twelve Apostles, Port Campbell National Park

Thunder Cave, the Twelve Apostles, Port Campbell National Park

 

Tourists tend to stick together, sometimes it’s hard to appreciate something when there are so many people trying so hard to do the same on all sides. We made a plan to return to the Twelve Apostles on a day that was not sun drenched Summer.

If you just venture a little to the west and down there are wilder adventures for those who leave the guide rail behind, past the Thunder Cave and onto the rocks. As we approached our fellow wanders they were frozen on the horizon in the act of a guilty holiday pleasure. They counted down the seconds until the wave crashed onto the rocks as he stood posed on an imaginary surfboard, the ocean had other things in mind, drenching them, squeals and all, washing away their hopes for a novelty holiday photo. Tourists can be determined though and we all rushed onto the cliff edge with renewed vigor to stand in various bizarre poses, playing chicken with the surf.

Continue Reading

A SEASIDE CHRISTMAS

Fruit salad, Grey River Christmas

Putting up decorations for Christmas at Grey River

Toasted croissants, Grey River Christmas

Breakfast BBQ for Christmas at Grey River

Christmas muffins for breakfast at Grey River
Fruit salad, Grey River Christmas

Christmas Breakfast, Grey River

Linesman fixing powerline, Grey River Christmas

Little Dog receives his present with suspicion, Grey River Christmas

Dylan's Christmas present Swainston's Fish of Australia, Grey River Christmas

Charlie and Little sitting on dad's lap, Grey River Christmas

Tom taking Wardy out spearfishing, Grey River Christmas

Fisherman and fisherdog on the beach, Grey River Christmas

Trout, Grey River Christmas

Watercolour fish, Grey River Christmas

Gracie dog decorated for christmas, Grey River Christmas

Hash browns, Grey River Christmas

Christmas Dinner, Grey River

Birthday cake, Grey River Christmas

Chess, Grey River Christmas

Stormy weather took out the power lines so Christmas  morning began with a crackling fire and smokey toasted croissants. Traditions of plastic trees, turkey and shouting matches are made to be broken: family, friends and fishing are much nicer. Chocolate birthday cake is pretty delightful as well.

Continue Reading

SECRET PLACES IN SPRING

Fishing by where the river meets the sea, the Otways

Rock sitting by the river, the Otways

Fishing off a rock, the Otways

Searching for a snag, the Otways

Rethreading the fishing rod, the Otways

Blue skies diminishing, wrapping up against the chill, the Otways

Plants growing in the dunes, the Otways

The wind began to pick up, the Otways

Sand through our toes, the Otways

Running for cover, the Otways

Packing up in the wind, the Otways

Rugging up against the wind chill, the Otways

Homeward bound through the reeds of the estaury, the Otways

…and the wind blew in, sand turned savage began biting our legs. What seemed like an easy wade across the river mouth before became treacherous as I began to sink, the sickly quick sand like slurry giving way beneath me to gobble up legs to the knee. I pulled myself free as the clouds rolled in and we ran for the cover, although I think some were secretly running towards lunch as our hooks remained empty. But lovely remote spots are wild like that, and that is their charm.

Continue Reading