Friday 25^th November

We had a lovely afternoon and evening.  Lots of chat, catching up, laughter.  He and I had a lovely swim and saw some beautiful coral and big colourful fish scampering about.

And then this morning he woke up VERY sick.  Vomiting etc all night, and today he has spent most of the day lying on various couches and benches, trying to get out of the sun, with a violent, splitting headache.  I have plied him with strong painkillers - over the counter stuff available in good old Vanuatu.  This is making him sleep but he is still not well at all.

Snapshot: It is G & T time.  Pete is lying, drink-less, on one side of the couch, dozing intermittently, reading Peter Temple.  He too has a headache and has allowed me to give him Aspro Clear – he’s not up for the stronger Vanuatu stuff.  James is fast asleep, with a look of pain and misery, at the other end of the couch.  I am the only one with G & T…the only one with no headache.  (I have taken photos, on my iphone, of both of my snoozing male companions…)  We are anchored in a beautiful place, Waite Bay, I think, near Haselwood Island.  The sun is setting over the picturesque islands nestled around the bay; the tide is out and the sea is splashing over the reef.  Turtles occasionally swim by and raise their lovely, lazy heads to look at us.

This place is recommended, in our ever-reliable 100 Magic Miles book, as one of the best diving and snorkeling places in the Whitsundays.  Pete and I went straight in when we arrived at 3.00.  We saw some beautiful coral, some very lively fish, all squabbling away in a territorial manner.  Best of all we saw some very big clams.  Not our favourite colourful frilly ones.  These were big rounded shells, with pale interiors.  Pete thought they were dead but when I passed my flipper close by they – well, they clammed up!  (Not good to make comparisons…but I think the majority of the tropical fish in the world have migrated to the Solomons and to the Louisiades…)

The air is clear and we can see the outline of the islands very clearly.  This is wonderful, after many hazy days in Northern Queensland.

We had a few moments when phone reception was suddenly available.  I had a phone call from Lindy and John, in Townsville.  They said their son (my nephew) David had just got back from army exercises in Brisbane – the same exercises from which Michael was able to escape early, due to pressing domestic necessity ie a visit from his mother, Pete, and the very desirable 2XS…

David, after greeting his family, went for a relaxing swim in his backyard pool.  He was lolling about in the shallow end when he felt a strange sensation…over his shoulder was slithering – a large brown snake, going for his own refreshing relaxing swim in the pool.  See what I mean about Northern Queensland?  Pretty as can be, a hot tropical climate, a hot tropical lifestyle but…you can’t swim in the sea – crocs, stingers.  You can’t swim in the rivers – crocs, snakes.  And you can’t even swim in your own pool – brown snakes!  Brown snakes are a nasty combination of venomous and aggressive.  At least our own Tasmanian snakes: three species (whip, copperhead, tiger), while extremely venomous, also have the grace to be shy and retiring and not in the least aggressive!

In the late afternoon we saw a stranger creature speeding through the water near the boat.  A triangular white shape with a black tip – maybe a cormorant head?  A small speedy turtle?  The tip of a manta ray wing??  But no.  Pete (Attenborough) Headlam identified it on it second tour of the boat -a small and graceful black-tipped reef shark, out for a bit of an evening hunt amongst the quarrelsome fish of the nearby reef.

I am very much enjoying my Twitter moments- thank you Rachel!  And a few days ago, I had such a coincidental Twitter-inspired moment… (Possibly as a preface I have to say that most of the stuff that happens in the galley is – well it is performed by me.  Pete does all the weary–down-in-the-bilges stuff.  Fixing the engines, making sure we don’t sail into cyclones, McGuivering everything which breaks.  And I make food and drinks.  Not the G & Ts, but most other things.)

So.  I was reading a tweet which said that someone (ie some woman…I can forward you the article…) has discovered What Women Really Want.  And…What Women Really Want, you may possibly not be amazed to hear, is...a cup of tea.  The offer of a cup of tea, at times when she is tired, frazzled, stressed, or just idle.  I can’t quote, because we are, as usual. out of internet range, but as far as I can recall the writer said, slightly bitterly, “The thing is, he doesn’t even have to MAKE the stinkin' tea!  He just has to offer, and his woman will fall to the ground with gratitude and love.”  A cup of tea symbolises so much – comfort, support, concern, sympathy.  She wrote about a young woman who had a terrible bout of flu.  Her partner of a few years, grudgingly, asked if she wanted a cup of tea.  “Yes, yes,” she replied, faintly, from the couch.  “How lovely!”  He rattled around in the kitchen and shouted, “So, where are the teabags?  Do you want milk?  Sugar?”  She ended the relationship then and there…much to the MALE partner’s astonishment.  (I might copy this article, when I am back in cyberworld, and paste it into my blog…I think many of my readers will identify, most whole-heartedly.)

To continue…I was sitting at the table, having just scrubbed the deck or whatever watery task I felt needed to be completed, and was idly contemplating my computer, and the Twitter-introduced article on What Women Want.  Pete drifted by and said…MAGIC WORDS!!  “Would you like a cup of tea?”  Blink.  Blink.  I gazed at him and said, “Are you psychic?  Would you like me to read you an article on…What Women Want??  And YES please I would love a cup of tea”

And yes…he was VERY pleased with himself…