The Plunge Down Under

Favorite iPhone Photos from May

I have several posts in the works right now, but nothing quite ready to publish.  This may be indicative of a social life that has picked up somewhat, although I still find myself uncharacteristically chatting with salespeople when I am out shopping.  My accent often is the beginning point of a conversation, and I usually walk away afterward glad for the additional human contact. 

The first two photos I took just this morning.   Most of my iphone pictures are not nearly as clear as the first one below.  It makes me wish I had gone back home and retrieved my Nikon.

In May, James finally learned to swim on his back after many hours of practice. That same morning I had noticed the temperature when we drove to the swim center.  The car thermometer said it was 45 degrees F.  The chilly air did nothing to deter the dedicated adult swimmers, however, who prefer to exercise outdoors rather than inside the center.  I counted over thirty of them in the outdoor pool.  I don't think that would ever happen, at least on a regular basis, in the U.S.

One day in May we drove through a hailstorm on the way home from the girls' school.  Afterward, some side streets were completely white.  Rebekah said it was the closest thing to snow that she had ever seen.

We have reduced the number of trips out for ice cream and pastries, but occasionally Ross will take the kids for a treat on a Saturday morning.

I'll close by wishing a Happy Memorial Day to all of our friends and family celebrating and remembering in the U.S. today.

Cunning Crocs and other Creatures at Cape Tribulation

Among all of the deadly creatures known to inhabit Far North Queensland, the saltwater, or estuarine, crocodile is perhaps the most infamous.  While the majority of crocodile species do not pose a serious threat to humans, a fully grown saltwater croc is capable of overcoming a human adult and killing him, usually through pulling him underwater and drowning him.  They are serious hunters, and will study their prey before attacking, often swimming underwater and surfacing immediately prior to striking.  By the time a victim realizes that she is in danger, it is too late to escape.

A google search of saltwater crocodiles will turn up any number of stories involving encounters between them and humans.  One of the most well-known occurred during the Japanese retreat in the Battle of Ramree Island in Burma in which it is thought that crocodiles were responsible for the deaths of up to 400 soldiers.  British troops surrounded their Japanese counterparts as they retreated, thereby condemning them to a night in the crocodile-infested waters of a mangrove swamp.  When the dust settled the next day, four hundred were missing.  This story is listed in the Guinness Book of World Records under the deadliest attack of animals upon humans.

In spite of, or perhaps because of, the danger posed by saltwater crocs, most tourists to northern Queensland take a boat ride hoping to spot at least one.  We took the obligatory ride, but found only a one-year-old.  As we were driving back to the airport the next day, however, we noticed some people on a bridge gesturing and pointing cameras to the water below.  As we pulled over, we saw what we had hoped to find the day before.

Below is the one-year-old from the previous day:

 

The next few were taken at Cape Tribulation, named by Captain Cook after his ship struck on the Great Barrier Reef.  The beach is lovely, but again, dangerous according to our guide.  As we gathered around him on the sand, he pointed to a tree behind us that contained fruit capable of killing us within minutes.  He then gestured to the water in front of us with hands scarred by stingers ("You know within twenty minutes whether you will live or die," he explained, "So far I have stayed alive"), and told us a hair-raising crocodile story that took place about one hundred feet away.

A few years prior he had taken out a group like ours onto the beach when he noticed two toddlers splashing in the water.  As he continued speaking to his group, he made a mental note to talk to the negligent parents after he had settled his tour crew.  At that point he realized that there was in fact a large crocodile near by in the water.  He ran screaming into the water, yelling at the kids to stay still and stop splashing, grabbed the children, one under each arm, and sprinted up the beach.  The father assumed he was attempting to abduct the children and acted accordingly until he became paralyzed with fear upon seeing the crocodile land on the beach.  Fortunately, the children were saved by his heroic exploit.  Afterward, he bluntly told the parents they were complete idiots.

Our guide pointed out that the sign above, seen near water everywhere in Far North Queensland, is inaccurate.  A crocodile attack will, not may, cause injury or death.

After relating his tales, Bruce encouraged all of us to have a wander on the beach and through the paths before heading back to the bus.  We were a bit reluctant, I must say, but followed his recommendation, taking care to stay well away from the water and in the middle of the paths through the rainforest.

According to Bruce, who has been stung more than once, the vinegar prevents further injury by neutralizing the invisible stingers which have not yet been activated. It can save a life, but it does nothing to stop the ferocious pain.  Some victims experience cardiac arrest and require resuscitation.

From Cape Tribulation we traveled to the serene beauty of Mossman Gorge, a peaceful ending to our tour of the Daintree National Forest.

 

Ozzy, Bozzy, and Mozzie's Cozzies

I know that I wrote a language post not too long ago, but I couldn't resist dashing off another quick one tonight.  In that post I wrote about being stumped by the abbreviation cozzies.  I eventually discovered the word refers to swimsuits, but I still didn't get the connection.  Yesterday I happened to notice a shop called "Mozzie's Cozzies."  The bottom part of the sign read "Costumes for Hire," and then it finally hit me that cozzie is short for costume, as in bathing costume.

I was telling about it  Ross this evening when Cameron walked in the room talking about "Ozzy and Bozzy."  Ozzy is a player on a soccer team he faced last week, while Bozzy (Mr. Bosworth) is the computer teacher/soccer coach for his school.  According to Cameron, the students don't call him Bozzy to his face, but they will use Mr. Bozzy when they address him.

An older brother of one of Katie's friends was in our house on Sunday.  I asked him what nicknames he has picked up along the way, and he replied that he once sat down and wrote out a long list of them.  His last name is Daffy, and most of them either rhyme with his surname or pick up on the double f.  Some were quite clever, but unfortunately the only one I remember is affidaffit. 

I predict that abbreviations will continue to alternately amuse and puzzle us for the duration of our time in Australia.

 

The Sumptuous Colors of May 2011

Dedicated to my winter-weary, rain-soaked friends and family members in the eastern half of North America, this post has been pure pleasure to create.  Each day of the past four weeks we have woken to the seemingly impossible reality of colors more beautiful than those of the day before.  Although the weather last week felt very much like November in the American Midwest, it was November without the bare branches and dreary landscape.  Instead, the spectacular colors of autumn continue to linger, delighting and entrancing us each time we venture outdoors. Following are my attempts to capture some of the beauty surrounding us. 

Still the roses bloom . . .

We wondered if the colors this year were unusual, and right on cue, our local newspaper printed a front-page article explaining why this year has been extra special---something to do with all that rain earlier in the year, which caused lots of new growth, in combination with just the right temperatures and dryness once autumn hit.  All the daily taxi-driving that makes up my life has been much more bearable as of late, although I found myself wishing the other day that I were enjoying the colors on a long country road rather than sitting in traffic.  Of course, in the country in Australia, there would be only the eucalypts and therefore no autumn colors. 

As I type now, it is raining, and I suspect that the remaining deciduous leaves still hanging on have very little time left.  We will remember them, however, for many seasons to come.

Where the River Meets the Reef

As if the wonders of the Great Barrier Reef were not enough, Far North Queensland also can boast of housing one of the world's greatest rainforests, the Daintree.  I must confess, once again, to total ignorance of this part of the world before the word Australia became part of our daily conversation, in spite its exceptional biodiversity, prolific birdlife including the highly endangered cassowary, and its spot on the World Heritage Listing.  Eager to learn more, we organized yet another tour during our trip to Port Douglas in April, and I can assure you that our several guides did their heroic best to both educate us and to share their love and passion for their home turf.  The fact that they included multiple refreshment breaks throughout the nine hours of talks, walks, boat rides, lectures and bus time contributed greatly to yet another successful day of our tourist experience in tropical Queensland.

We were picked up at our villa shortly after 8am by our driver Bruce.  Exhausted from the previous days of snorkeling, we were all rather mellow and grateful that someone else was in charge of the events of the day.  Unsurprisingly, we learned that our first stop would be for morning tea.  We realized early on in our life here that morning tea is a most important part of the day, and is included without fail in a given day's agenda. I chose coffee, and the best thing I can say about it is that it was wet.  It reminded me of the light brown liquid that passes for coffee in some of the middle parts of the U.S. We concluded at the end of our stint in Queensland that Melbourne's passion for proper coffee has yet to travel to the far north. 

After morning tea, we trooped down to the Daintree River for an hour long boat ride down the river and to the other side.  The Daintree River is not spanned by a bridge, and thus the only way to cross is by boat or by a ferry that runs only during daylight hours.  This helps to protect the surrounding habitat.

Our boat driver recognized that every passenger on his boat was mainly hoping was to spot one of the area's infamous saltwater crocodiles.  He did talk about them, and took us down a water way favored by a female known as Elizabeth, but it was clear his primary passion was the mangrove swamp.  He managed to fill most of our one hour ride discussing mangroves, and I did my best to remain interested in spite of periodic screaming fits from a grumpy two-year-old on board with us.

I don't remember much, but I did scribble down that the yellow leaves that we saw occasionally are those that are over one year old. After turning yellow, they fall down and eventualloy decompose to create mangrove mud.  One tablespoon of the rich mud thus created can contain billions of living organisms.  At the mouth of the Daintree River, the water is salty, but as it winds its way through the mangrove swamps, the salinity decreases until the water becomes fresh. Apparently the mangroves have several adaptations to help them cope with the saltiness, and our guide discussed them at length.

Unfortunately the closest we came to seeing Elizabeth were a few tracks in the mangrove mud.  We did see a baby croc, but that will be a story for another day.

From the boat we boarded our bus, now on the opposite side of the river thanks to the ferry, and headed to a lookout over the mouth of the river.

Somewhat weary already at this early stage in our day, we were glad to hear Bruce announce that not only was our next stop was close by, but that we would be served a second round of morning tea at the Rainforest Discovery Center.  The coffee here was no better, but we did have the privilege of eating homemade, scrumptious anzac biscuits in honor of the upcoming holiday. 

Bruce handed us over to Chris, our personal tour guide at the center, who wins the prize for the most passionate guide of the day. Chris was so keen to share everything possible with us, that after speaking to us nonstop for one hour, he followed us all of the way out to the bus to continue answering questions. He instructed us about many of the rainforest's inhabitants and plant life.  I especially remember the Orange-footed scrubfowl, architects and builders of giant nests. The males control the temperature of the incubating eggs (kept warm by the decaying material inside the nests), and help determine the number of boy and girl birds as these birds mate for life and thus need an even number of males and females. Nests can grow up to five feet by five feet, or sometimes even larger.

After the crocodile, the cassowary must be the area's most famous creature, and the one in which the locals show pride.  Chris told me with beaming face that about once a week he gets to witness an adult cassowary walk by his back porch, and that even after one year of living here, the magic of these moments have not decreased for him.  When I queried him about our chances of seeing one, he suggested that we visit a local wildlife center.  Bruce, our bus driver, insisted that we keep our eyes peeled along the sides of the road as we traveled, but we never did see one.

The cassowary is Australia's heaviest bird, although the emu is taller.  As you might suspect, it is related to the emu, the rhea, and the ostrich.  It is able to eat many of the fruits of the rainforest that are poisonous to all other animals, and thus plays an important role in distributing seeds throughout the region.  As with the Orange-footed scrubfowl, the male cassowary is the one incubates and guards the eggs, and then raises the chicks on his own for eight to eighteen months.

Having looked in vain for cassowaries, we finally reached a highpoint in the day for the children, a buffet lunch alongside a stream near Cape Tribuation.  It consisted of, naturally, a barbecue with offerings of steak, sausages and fish.  We also were served damper, a kind of bread cooked in a pan over a fire (universally disliked by our kids), salads, and a wonderful selection of local fresh fruit. The piece the looks like an orange tomato is a persimmon, which three of us found to be delicious.

James insists that I have been working on this post for far too long, and I tend to agree with him.  He is keen to walk to the library, and as the sun is shining for the first time in many days, I think this is a great idea.  I believe I will save the recounting of the second half of this very long day for a future post.

 

Four Mile Beach

Computer troubles have caused me more than frustration than I care to remember the past few days, preventing me from posting over the weekend as I planned to do.  All is now well, at least for the time being, thanks to the generous and thoughtful donation of a Sunday afternoon by a techie friend of ours (thanks Kent!).  I do have a few pictures to share, however, that I uploaded previously of our last morning in Port Douglas.

Ross and I had considered taking a walk along this well-known beach one evening after dark, but we ultimately decided we didn't feel comfortable given that we were in Far North Queensland.  The next day we were told that not only does a crocodile live at one end of the beach, death adders may be present. We decided to wait until broad daylight before attempting another visit, and ended up enjoying the brief walk before heading back for breakfast and packing up the suitcases.

A few people were swimming within the relative safety of the stinger nets.

 

The Great Barrier Reef Revisited

Ross was so impressed with our first trip out on the reef that by the time we made it back to our villa he had booked us on a second tour.  The first time out, we traveled to what is called the inner reef.  It was spectacular in its own right, and well worth the visit, but he felt we would regret not going to the outer reef.  This required going three times the distance on a monstrosity clearly designed for conveying as many eager tourists as quickly as possible, rather a contrast to the beautiful sailboat of the prior day.  Since we were visiting on a holiday weekend, the boat was filled to capacity.  We purchased six of the remaining eight available seats (out of a total of 400 or so).

I must say that I had my reservations about committing ourselves for a full day to a crowded vessel, but the staff were thoroughly impressive, and well prepared to help us make the most of our time out on the reef.  Shortly after we boarded, the giant machine was traveling at top speed to get us to our destination (a giant pontoon anchored off the Agincourt Reef) within the ninety minutes they had promised.  Tea, coffee and biscuits were served as we watched various videos and listened to a lecture from a marine biologist who tried to prepare us for what we would see later in the day.

Comprised of more than 3000 individual reefs spanning nearly 1800 miles along the coast of Queensland, the Great Barrier Reef is one of the world's seven natural wonders.  It is the only living thing visible from outer space.  We learned that the intense colors of the coral come not from the tissue of the coral itself, but rather from the algae that live in the coral.  Coral bleaching occurs when the water temperature becomes too elevated for the algae to survive.  I can thank our captain from our first day's excursion for that explanation.  Exhibiting similar disdain for distant authorities that we witnessed from our guide in the Barmah National Forest, Alex told us that he took important government officials and researchers out in his boat during the winter to document the tragedy of coral bleaching.  He was not permitted to speak during this boat ride, but apparently he had much to say that would have contradicted the researcher, whose main concern was funding for his next project.

I think Alex's main point was that coral bleaching is a result of the temperature and not directly connected to tourists visiting the reef.  The most recent year in which it occurred is 2006.  Hurricanes, or cyclones as they are known here, do far more to damage the reef than human activity.  Of course this is what tour operators would like to believe as their livelihood depends upon tourism.  They did seem to be very vigilant when it came to ensuring that we did not stand up nor so much as touch any part of the reef, but it did seem a shame to be visiting something so beautiful in the midst of gasoline fumes.

There are more than 400 types of coral on the Great Barrier Reef.  We heard the not-terribly-creative names of many of them, and attempted to identify some of them as we snorkeled, but I regret to report I have forgotten many of them already.  I do remember the staghorn coral, and the brain coral (see next picture).

Once we arrived at the pontoon, the relative peace of the journey disappeared into a mad stampede.  The smarter travelers, those who clearly had done this before or were benefiting from the advice of those who had, delayed the snorkeling equipment queues in favor of being first in line for the lunch buffet.  I, on the other hand, spent the first hour getting four children and two adults outfitted for snorkeling while Ross fed James.  Katie and Cameron were off as soon as they had their gear, and spent several marvelous hours exploring the reef, diving periodically underwater to get closer before resurfacing for air.  Happy for them I was, but also, I confess, rather jealous.

Here is what Cameron had to say about his experience when I quizzed him that evening:

"My favorite fish was the octopus  --  it was mostly blended in to the brain coral.  It looked like a hump and then I saw a tentacle move slightly.  I also liked the mostly purple fish with white splotches on their cheeks with bright green stripes down the sides.  The backs were sort of bluish.  I came across several green turtles as well as big brown fish in a dark cave.  There were mostly round, very thin fish with yellow and black stripes and big lips that looked like a beak.  I noticed brown fish with black splotches laying on top of boulder coral.

Katie was more reticent, but equally enthusiastic.  Her favorite experience was watching the bright blue fish swimming through the purple coral with bright blue tip.  She also enjoyed the large schools of fish that stayed at the same angle as they swam.  They were silver, almost transparent.

Sophie reports that she had lots of fun.  "I think snorkeling and seeing lots of fish and coral is a good experience. I loved the rainbow fish [the parrot fish] and the turtles.  There were blue starfish all over the coral."

For my part I will ad the experience of watching a large fish getting cleaned by a dozen or so little fish.  They swam in and out of its mouth as they completed their task.  We all agree that the giant clams were possibly the most amazing thing that we observed.

Sophie grew confident enough to strike out on her own in the beginners' area, which was closely watched by staff.  James made several more attempts to snorkel, but just couldn't seem to keep his mouth closed underwater.  The three of us opted later for a ride on the semi-submersible boat, which did allow us to get closer to the coral and marine life without having to swim. 

The next two photos are of Sophie snorkeling just before we had to begin the trip back to Port Douglas.  Unfortunately for some onboard, the wind picked up in the late afternoon, and about halfway back the staff were kept busy distributing white paper bags as the travelers began to drop like flies.  Fortunately the Wilkin stomachs proved to be up to the task, and we were able to ride home in relative comfort, all the while trading stories of the many beautiful creatures we had the privilege of viewing that day on the reef.

 

Spag Bol for Tea

It has been a while since I did a language post.  I am not sure if there is any significance to be attached to it, but I have not been scribbling nearly as many notations over language differences lately.  Today, however, I did pause for a moment after speaking with the secretary at Cameron's school.  I had mistakenly given her the incorrect expiration date of our credit card when paying for his winter uniform, and she had rung up to get the correct date.  After I supplied it, she replied, "Thank you.  That's gorgeous." 

Gorgeous is a term that some might say gets a good workout down under.  I have yet to be weary of it, but I do find it curious how many different ways it is used.  Very young children are often greeted with a cheery, drawn out, "Hello, GOORrgeous!"  I have heard it used to refer to physical appearance, but more often it seems to address one's character.  It seems that being called gorgeous means you have a kind, pleasant, considerate personality.  Gorgeous also is frequently employed for food, which as I'm sure I have mentioned previously, is an incredibly important part of life in Melbourne and is taken very seriously indeed.  One might rave that the soup was just gorgeous, referring more to its taste I believe than to its presentation.

Speaking of food I was quite proud of myself a couple of weeks ago when a friend mentioned over coffee that on a particular day of the year she generally prepares spag bol or a similarly easy dish.  I think that would have passed completely over my head a few months ago.  It is short for spaghetti bolognese, a popular main dish for the evening meal, which, by the way, can be called tea or dinner, but never supper.  I can't seem to give up using supper, and am frequently corrected by my eldest child.  It is a fairly important term to get right.  For example, I invited a friend and her three children over for supper before going for a swim, and my usage of the word caused some confusion.  In Australia, supper is similar to a bedtime snack such as popcorn and milk.  It is something you eat fairly late at night to tide you over until morning, and never applies to a substantial meal.

The phrase "going for a swim" could very well be used in the U.S., but I think the more common phrase would be "going swimming."  It reminds me of another feature of language down under that I picked up unconsciously right from the start, namely the phrase "having a (insert a word that can function both as noun and verb)" My kids might be invited over to "have a play."  I might, on the other hand, be invited out for coffee to have "a gossip" or "a chat."  Cameron wrote a persuasive piece for school this week arguing that plastic bags should be banned.  He urged his readers to "have a think" about the information that he would be presenting in the coming paragraphs.  There are more, but my memory has failed me, in spite of having a good, long think about it over afternoon coffee and chocolate just now. Edit:  Ross reminded me tonight that I missed the obvious one:  to have a go at something.

This morning, over tea and biscuits at our weekly Ladies Bible Study, I clarified a couple of words that have puzzled me of late.  I had overheard our landlord in Port Douglas explaining over the phone that due to our missing luggage, we were without our "cozzies."  This, I was told, is the term used in New South Wales for swimming costumes.  Normally it would not be used in Queensland, where they prefer to use the word "togs," while bathers, of course, is what we have learned to say in Victoria.  In the midst of this discussion, one of the ladies exclaimed over the biscuits we were rather rapidly consuming, "They are so moreish."  That means something like delicious, or so good that you keep eating more of them.  My last query was over the phrase "dinki di."  Like fair dinkum, it means "true blue" (that didn't really help me) or "the genuine article," "the real thing."  

I think I like the phrase "dinki di."  It is a worthy aspiration, and one that seems especially appreciated in Australia.

 

 

Autumn Rambles

I have just returned from a lavish mother's day breakfast at Sophie's school, followed by a beautiful mother's day tea at Cameron's, and am feeling rather spoiled.  I think I like having this particular day occur in the opposite season to the one to which we are accustomed.  Fall, or autumn as it is called here, has long been my favorite time of year. 

It therefore seems like an appropriate time to share some of my favorite photos from the many that I have been taking on our walks through our neighborhood in the past few weeks.  Autumn has turned out to be a gorgeous season, far prettier than I would have expected, thanks to the abundant sunshine, as well as to the European trees brought here in the first part of the last century.  There is a move to re-plant with native trees, and whilst I do understand the rationale for that, I am enjoying the beautiful crimsons, oranges and yellows that have been around for many weeks now, far longer than we get to enjoy them in Pittsburgh.

A quick check of the origins of the word fall confirms what I thought I had read in the not-too-distant past.  Before the 16th Century, the word harvest was the term most commonly employed to refer to the season following summer.  It was gradually replaced with  fall, a word coming from the old Germanic languages, and autumn, ultimately from Latin.  The expressions fall of the leaf and fall of the year were common in Middle English, and likely that is how fall came to be used to refer to the season in British English.  The popularity of its usage in England coincided with the time that the pilgrims were emigrating to North America.  They took the word with them and continued to use it, whilst in Great Britain, autumn became the preferred term. We are working hard to remind ourselves to use autumn during our time in Australia.

Happy Mother's Day to the all the mums out there!

Snorkeling at Low Isles

A sailboat, tropical weather, ocean breezes, delicious food for morning tea, buffet lunch, and afternoon tea, competent and friendly guides, a coral cay island on the Great Barrier Reef as our destination . . . what more could we ask for on a Saturday down under?

Approaching the island:

Katie and Cameron headed off on the first tender to shore:

My snorkeling pictures are few and far between.  Ross and I had all we could do to sort out the gear for four children and ourselves, and to teach Sophie how to snorkel, so the camera was kept safely tucked away most of the time.  I have searched and found a few free-to-share pictures online that come close to the things we discovered and enjoyed

One of the first things we noticed on the ocean floor were the giant clams, something like the one below.  Ross reports that he came across an empty shell of a clam that was so large, he was sure he could have fit his entire body inside.  Our guides cautioned us to keep a safe distance from the clams as they are unable to form a clot. If ever it receives a cut or nick, the giant clam will bleed to death.

The Low Isles are known for their families of green turtles, so we were on the lookout for those as well.  Katie and Cameron came across several, I saw one, and Ross none.  Contrary to what one might think, the green turtle has no exterior green color, but is named after the color of its fat.  It feeds on sea grasses and travels long distances throughout the course of its lifetime.  One curious thing about the green turtles at Low Isles is that after hatching, they leave Low Isles and do not return for about twenty years.  We were told that scientists have not yet discovered where they go in the interim.

The neon-colored damselfish were everywhere, glowing amongst the various types of coral:

We also noticed the parrot fish, angel fish, and bright blue starfish.

The parrot fish picture above doesn't really do it justice.  Cameron called it the "Rainbow Lorikeet of the ocean."  About 30% of the sand around the Great Barrier Reef comes from material that has passed through the bodies of parrot fish.

After snorkeling we spent some time exploring the tiny island.

It was after our first snorkeling session, and a much-appreciated lunch on our boat, that the sharks came by for a visit.  It would appear that they know about the prawns that occasionally are tossed overboard. 

It was also after snorkeling and lunch that our captain, Alex, began telling us stories.  I suspect that if he had told them earlier, a few of us may not have ever entered the water.  We learned, for example, that the very beach where we had been relaxing was where Steve Irwin was brought after being mortally wounded by a stingray.  He was helicoptered off to the nearest hospital, but to no avail.

We also learned that crocodiles occasionally visit Low Isles.  When that happens, a special sign is placed on the beach so that boats know to stay away.  It remains for seven days after the last sighting.  I had pictured crocodiles in the rivers, but it had never occurred to me that they could be a threat in the area where we were snorkeling.  Alex had a few crocodile stories up his sleeve, most involving idiotic tourists.  A friend of his told off some parents who were letting their children swim in Cooper Creek, home to the estaurine, or saltwater, crocodile.  This was dangerous enough in itself, but additionally on this day, a dead dolphin had been washed ashore in the vicinity.  Alex explained that no native of Tropical North Queensland in their right mind would swim in Cooper Creek under any conditions.  The presence of a dead dolphin made the danger akin to placing one's children in a grizzly den with the cubs while the mother is out hunting. 

As the story goes, the parents and Alex's friend argued back and forth for awhile, but eventually the parents pulled their children out of the water just as a crocodile surfaced, followed immediately by a shark who finished off both the dolphin and the croc.  Alex assured us multiple times that every detail of this story was true.  Whether or not this was the case, there was no doubt that that he enjoyed himself hugely in the telling of it, and had all of us shivering by the end the tale.  We, the gullible passengers, exchanged nervous smiles and agreed that our respective resort swimming pools were sounding more attractive by the minute. 

Alex followed up his croc stories with more information on the stingers that caused all of us to don the full body lycra suits before entering the water.   This information caused us to view the unattractive suits with renewed appreciation.  Although we were well briefed on the dangers of the box jelly fish, an animal that can cause the greatest agony known to man, we did not realize that we were in more in danger of being stung by a type of stinger so tiny as to be almost invisible.  Alex explained that every once in a while a snorkeler or a fisherman is stung badly enough to require a helicopter ride to the nearest hospital.  Recently a young boy had been snorkeling, and returned to shore to adjust his flipper.  He was unlucky enough to bring his just-uncovered foot down on one of these invisible creatures, and shortly afterward was hospital-bound.

Stingers are a threat in Tropical North Queensland throughout the summer months (November to the end of April).  We made it for the tail end of the season.  The full body suits do a good job of protecing, Alex explained, but a few areas of skin remain exposed, including the upper lip which has now become the most frequently-wounded part of the body.

Throughout the duration of the spine-tingline stories, Katie and I had been riding in a glass-bottomed boat peering down at the coral with Alex at the tiller.  We were safe enough for the moment, short of a crocodile appearing and upsetting the boat, and I knew that Ross and James had remained onboard the sailboat. I was fairly certain, however, that Sophie and Cameron were swimming with the sharks, which meant the possibility of stingers.  That they were, but no one was harmed, and the reality is that an individual's chances of being stung are not very great.  Alex eventually turned from croc and stinger stories to the dangerous snakes that inhabit Tropical North Queensland.  These stories continued throughout the duration of our hour-long sail back to Port Douglas, and they grew taller and merrier by the minute until we had visions of dozens of pythons hanging from the trees over all of the roads in the region.

If you look carefully at the picture below, you can see Alex at the wheel, in white hat and gray t-shirt, surrounded by admiring listeners.  We chose to kick back and relax at the front of the boat, enjoying the snatches of stories that floated our way from time to time. 

You can see some of the coral reef just below the surface in the picture below. 

After disembarking, Ross purchased some prawns from a nearby trawler that comes in to Port Douglas once a fortnight.

By the end of the trip back, we agreed that the trip had been so marvelous, we wanted to go out one more time if possible, in spite of the potential dangers.