Saturday 26^th November

We didn’t get to Whitehaven Beach – the wind is the wrong direction.  Nor did we power off to Bait Reef today, to go diving.  James is still unwell, with hideous stomach cramps.  His blinding headache has receded, so has his high temperature, so he is much happier.  But still not ready to have a 4 hour trip across the ocean to the Barrier Reef.  We are staying, very happily, in Waite Bay.

Sunday 27^th November

James was much better so we had a very nice time at our next destination – beautiful Cateran Bay.  Lovely snorkeling.

Monday 28^th November

Whitehaven Beach for lunch.  Lots of boats there, lots of tourists, all frolicking on the white sand.  James and I swam in to shore and walked along to the end of the beach to snorkel along the rocks.  Last year there had been lots of coral…this year, nothing… Cyclone Yasi, I reckon, has taken its toll.  James is very sunburnt.  Especially his feet, which are bright red and make me wince just to look at them… I knew he had socks tucked into his flippers, to protect his poor red feet from harsh plastic flippers.  He was slathered in sunblock (too late, she cried…) and I suggested he might like to put his socks on as we walked along the beach.  “No,” was the terse reply.  “I am already looking enough of a nerd, carrying my mask and flippers, with my bright white legs and bright red face, hair and feet.  We are about to walk through a bevy of bikini clad hot chicky babes.  I am NOT wearing my socks!”  Fair enough…

It wasn’t very far to go to Manta Ray Bay, on the top of Hook Island.  We were very lucky to get a mooring – a big dive boat was just leaving.  None of us had been there before and it was just wonderful.  As soon as we tied up to our mooring – the James and Marguerite team has this down to a fine art – we were surrounded by fish.  Jaunty little silver and blue fish with yellow tails, so thrilled to see us.  Hmmm…I strongly suspect that the dive boat people feed the fish, to impress the customers.  And we were impressed!  In amongst the myriad blue and yellow fish were big grey shapes – oh the thrill, what could they be!  James and I peered intently though the galley ahtch and saw some very big fish, large and rounded in shape – not sharklike at all. 

Weehee!  There were dozens of divers and snorkelers in the water around us, with other dive boats, so we didn’t really think the big fish could be menacing.  They certainly didn’t look scary.  And they weren’t!  Our biggest, best fish, named Alfred by James, was about as big as I am, if not the same shape – well I certainly hope I’m not the same shape as a Humphead Maori Wrasse (my Mary Who Bookshop Field Guide to Marine Fishes of Tropical Australia and South-East Asia comes to the fore!)  He was just gorgeous, a real Disney character of a fish, swimming ponderously around us, turning on his side to get a better view.  His body was a beautiful pale lemon yellow, with cross-hatching in delicate pale brown, and his face was bright blue.  Big bright blue lips, golden bulging stripey eyes – my Field Guide says the stripey eyes indicate a juvenile fish.  A very big juvenile fish!  James and I were entranced by him.  A few other very big fish came up to be admired, giant trevalley, adult and juvenile, but they didn’t hold as much charm as our darling Alfred.

We eventually wrenched ourselves away from the boat and swam around the little bay, which was full of gorgeous coral and big schools of fish.  Happy days!

Now James is better and doesn’t have to be put to bed full of medication and with a cold wet facewasher clamped to his forehead, we have been having Oh Hell tournaments every night.  Once again I am playing extremely well, with great skill but…I have only won one game.  In fact I have had almost record low scores…

Tuesday 29^th November

Snapshot:  We are moored in beautiful Blue Pearl Bay, at the top of Hayman Island.  James and Pete are staring intently at the computer, willing the internet connection to stay, well, connected, for long enough for them to put some accommodation up on the Stayz website.  They both look very hot and bothered.  I, on the other hand, am cool and happy because I have just had a big long swim and have gazed, yet again, at the fish and coral in this dear little bay.

I haven’t told you about Pete and his Precious.  A few days ago, I think in Waite Bay, Pete and I decided to have a go with the power snorkel.  I have probably said, many times, that I NEVER want to dive.  Not with tanks, not with the power snorkel, not with anything.  Goodness knows how/why I ever did my diving course, let alone completed it and passed the tests; I am SO reluctant to go below the surface.  I am always ready to snorkel, no matter the conditions, but diving fills me with dread.  Once I am in the water, mind you, I love it, and I am always thrilled to bits with the experience. 

So there we were, having a test dive down the anchor chain, with me steeling myself and Pete absolutely gung-ho.  I went down first, quite swiftly and competently, unblocking my ears very efficiently and breathing slowly in and out all the way down.  Success!  But once I was down there – oh dread – I couldn’t breathe.  No air coming through.  No panic; I was only about ten meters down and could just go straight back up.  Which I did, speedily.  Pete followed promptly, spluttering and saying, cheerfully “Oh Gawd, we were down too deep for both of us to get air!”  Indeed… Suddenly and unexpectedly the trusty little dive compressor…conked out!  We looked at each other in astonishment and some slight alarm – this would NOT have been fun had we been deep down under the water…how fortunate we were on the surface!  (The battery terminal had come unplugged; it was a bit dodgy and bodgy, had been McGuivered by Pete and Andrew in Port Vila.)  At almost the same moment, Pete’s snorkel detached itself from his mask and slid, silently, to the bottom of the sea…He was not a happy camper.

At one stage we had more snorkels than we would ever have needed.  I had my own good one, and had bought another (pink) snorkeling set in Lord Howe Island.  Steve Mason had left his (yellow) Lord Howe set on board for us.  And we had various other spares in the locker.  My pink snorkel never worked.  The first time I went swimming with it jauntily attached to my mask – all this new pink stuff was making me very happy – I got a mouthful of water at first breath.  Since then it has sat in the locker for many months.  Every now and then somebody unearths it and says, “What a lovely new snorkel!  I think I’ll try it out!”  Mouthful of water at first breath…it gets returned to the locker.  I should have thrown it out in June!  Because…now it is Pete’s Precious!  Ever since he lost his (sorry Steve; it was yours…) he has been on a mission to Fix The Pink Snorkel.  James and I disappear for hours, happily snorking around.  He is using a horrible ancient blue and brown snorkel with a split end (I don’t think it is meant to be brown…) and I am using my very own Precious, which has served me very well ever since my Southern Divers open water diving course.  We arrive back on 2XS to find Pete muttering darkly and cradling Precious in his hands.  He has applied many layers of glue and tape to it, and every time we test it, his face is alight with joy – Precious will work this time!  And every time the hapless tester puts her head in the water – snuffle cough, mouthful of sea.  We will be back in Hamilton Island, the World of Shops, tomorrow, and I will buy Pete, and Steve, a shiny new snorkel.  But I know Pete will keep muttering and gluing and taping Pink Precious unless I manage to chuck it out while his back is turned…