Orca Update 27

Merry Christmas!

It still scares the crap out of us to row ashore and see a 5-foot monitor lizard lope across the beach. Even the metropolitan reptiles are huge; walk down the street to check the surf and you're likely to see a 3-pound skink slither off the path. Luckily we havent stumbled upon any death adders, Sydney funnel-web spiders, or box jellyfish—yet.
At the rum distillery in Bundaberg, we picked up another unsuspecting vistior/victim from Monterey, Brian, and set off down a the coast. The southern Queensland coast is a fascinating place—for sand enthusiasts. We ran down the Great Sandy Straight, a shallow estuary behind 'the world's largest sand island'. The 'world's tallest sand dune' loomed unimposingly in the distance. Moreton Bay is about the same size as Monterey Bay, but is full of sand—the average depth is a sandy 6 feet. From Moreton, we went 10 miles up the Brisbane river and found the world's roughest proteced anchorage (river-ferrys send 3 foot-waves bouncing endlessly off concrete riverbanks). We also discovered perhaps the world's dirtyest river when we stepped off the dingy into the waist-high ferry wake shorebreak. The water seemed unnaturally viscious as a used condom swirled languidly around my ankles. A plaque on the riverbank blamed ancient aboriginies for the poor water quality (yes, it really did).
All sarcasm aside, we did meet some of the world's nicest people in Brisbane (they seemed to be the world's best-dressed as well). There's a city-run mooring field in the middle of downtown where a close-knit liveaboard community is happy to pay the world's cheapest downtown riverfront housing costs. For $10 a night we tied up and went from boat-to-boat watching fireworks and the city lights, hitting the pub with our new Ausie friends. We put a thouroughly unwashed, unshaven, and un-laundered Brian on the train later that week. He was all smiles at goodbye but Kara thought she detected a hint of relief in his sigh when he left us on the sidewalk. Despite close quarters, Brian can now claim status as the only Orca-visitor to have survived the full duration of his trip aboard.
Our Brisbane contacts Dr. Bruce and Francis took us home and cleaned us up, prescribing four days of hot showers, wonderful food, and a big fluffy bed at the Gold Coast. After the full surf-tour we stopped at the petting zoo where Kara fell in love. Adorable little kangaroos peeked from mom's pouch, big liquid brown eyes staring up, pert doofus ears, head cocked just so, little paws reaching, waiting to be scratched beneath the chin, pink little toungue flickering around your fingers...
That night, back on the water, we had dinner aboard Australian sailboat: steak, yummy! Kara gobbled the rare treat with gusto, mumbling compliments to the chef around a mouthful of greasy meat. Our host was pleased, "Oh good, I'm so glad you like kangaroo steak, many Americans don't."
A single tear ran down Kara's cheek as she pushed her plate away.

We were off down the coast again, into yet another 40 miles of sandy inland waterway. Working the tide, we made Bum's Bay for Thanksgiving. Kara made her now traditional and somewhat infamous stove-top pressure cooker turkey mystery log surprise, which might be described as something approaching a thigh-thick, (possibly) turkey sausage. Its probably available in your local supermarket if you dig down at the unlit back corner of the last freezer in the aisle. Despite such adversity, we proclamed the feast a sucess and put to sea again. We landed in Iluka, at the mouth of the Clarence river. Downtown consisted of a corner grocery store, a bakery, a single doctor, and a combined pub/liquor store. The life-blood of the village was commercial fishing; every evening the throb of big diesels filled the anchorage as the fleet of colorful trawlers put to sea. When the weather was foul, the crews filed into the pub where each crusy salt ordered his usual and mumbled about global climate change and how it was back in the day.
And the weather was bad, 30-40 knot southerly winds and awe-inspiring thunderstorms. We were trapped in port for 3 weeks by contrary winds and big breakers across the rivermouth. The saving grace of the place was a wave in the protected lee of the northern rivermouth jetty, where a side-wash A-frame peak blew offshore most days. At double-overhead and above the wave was a nearly unsurfable beast, bodyboarders carrying the day in hideous wide-open sand sucking barrels marching down the beach. At more managable size, a few of us surfers were able to hold our own by sheer force of will.
Finally, the wind is set to change and the sun to emerge. We're hoping to make Sydney in time for Christmas and the famous New Year's fireworks display. With a 2-knot boost from the East Australian Current we might still make it!