Our best day in Sydney

Saturday was a really nice day so we decided to go out on a sailboat.

Luckily I had my iPhone with me and was able to capture this event. I love my iPhone. Sorry it's a bit shakey.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mk5kqEmm-RA

Then on our way back into the harbour ...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nhADOQsatJ0

The rocks in the background are the "north head". Loyal blog readers will recognize that is where we live (about a mile over those rocks).

During the day we saw many, many of them... here are some photos...

 The tail really is as big as that boat in the background

We were watching these two off in the distance - when Kim screamed "Look!! There is one right below us!!" We all leaned over and saw the enormous beast moving along beside our boat. The captain threw down his camera and lunged to shut of the engine and said "Shit". The picture isn't great because it was so large and so close that it couldn't fit in the frame. Kim took this picture because I was running around the boat looking for life jackets while flailing my arms in the "Joe Geris Jungle Cows are coming escape dance" because I was sure we were going to get flipped over. About 5 minutes after this incident our captain leaned over and told me that he was still a little shaken up by it. It hadn't happened to him before.

We agreed that this has been our best day in Sydney so far.

**********************
update: this happened the next day - a boy was fishing in a boat and got whacked by a whale's tale...
http://www.smh.com.au/nsw/boy-knocked-unconscious-by-whale-20110627-1gm9d.html
Also, same day... My bet is that he got whacked off the boat by a whale...
http://www.smh.com.au/nsw/yacht-mystery-man-lost-overboard-while-wife-slept-20110627-1gm7t.html

Australia's Got Talent

Jack Vidgen is an Australia version of Justin Bieber. He is from Manly and we are going to watch him perform at the beach today for a neighbourhood event. This is a fun clip to watch if you like the Susan Boyle type of feel-good stuff...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O6Imk_-gypk

The locals are going nuts over this kid.

Fiji Part III - Rescued

{this is continued from Fiji Part II - Fiji Time}

Thursday, April 28, 2011. Sand Spit, 5 miles off of Royal Davui Island

Five minutes until our boat was supposed to arrive, yet there was no boat on the horizon as far as we could see. It was clear that the crew was on Fiji time.

Our tent was occasionally being splashed with water from both sides and the Spit was just a sliver. There was a bit of higher ground and I had moved the cooler and our things to a dry spot. I decided to leave the umbrella tent standing because it may be the only thing visible above the water.

The boat that brought us out to the spit did not have gps and the process of finding the spit involved some zig-zagging around and arguing between the crew since there weren't really any landmarks to follow. When the boat got about five minutes away (don't know distance - just time) we could see the white bump in the water. 

There wasn't much of a white bump to see at this point. And there was no boat within five minutes of us.

In an act of defiant stubbornness I had pledged that I would not use the emergency satellite phone to get an early pickup. I debated with myself whether a phone call now would count as "early" since we still had five minutes on the clock - yet the boat was at least 20 minutes away because we would be able to see it otherwise. 

Since we had come this far, and Kim didn't seem too worried, I decided to wait. A moral victory of sorts.

I've always been critical of the men on the Titanic who went down in their evening wear playing music and shit. The first time I heard that story I thought - 'that's crazy. with all of the stuff on that ship and in the kitchen and laying around I could have built a raft out of an empty soup pot, a mattress,  and a cello! At least I would have a chance!'

So I looked around me and tried to imagine how I could build a raft on the sand spit.  I had an idea on how to do it - but then I decided that it would be impossible for the crew to find us bobbing around somewhere randomly in the Pacific on a raft made of out of an Eskimo cooler, an upside down umbrella tent, an empty wine bottle, and a tampon disposal bag. It would be much better if we could stay attached to the Spit.

Besides the logic of this thinking - the Portuguese spite in me liked the idea of the crew coming back to find us standing on top of our cooler and I could glare at them with an icy-cold stare and then slowly look at my watch. The image of that gave me satisfaction and I think I even rehearsed the slow glare when Kim wasn't watching.

Since we still had time to take action I decided to build a mound of sand that we could stand on. That might give us 10 more minutes or so. The sand was wet and heavy when I tried to shove it around with my foot and Kim was laughing at me - so I gave up and decided standing on the cooler would have to do.

It was officially 10 minutes past pickup time and we still couldn't see a boat on the horizon. So, with honour, I took the satellite phone out of it's protective case and followed the instructions to make the call. At least I didn't call early.

The two guys who had dropped us off had apparently been sent to the main island for some reason and they forgot about us. My guess is that Chief Captain crossed our name off the list when we were one minute late and at "shift change" they forgot to tell their replacements.

It took about 20 more minutes for a guy to arrive. The high ground was still dry. I held the boat, Kim got in, and the new guy took down the umbrella tent in ankle deep water. He didn't bother folding or wrapping or anything - jus threw the wet mess into the boat and we took off.  I asked him 'how long before the entire thing is under water". According to him we had 8 more minutes.

Later in the day we saw the Chief Captain hanging the wet umbrella tent out in the sun to dry. He apologised and said "was you standin' on de Esky!? Sometimes de people be standin' on de Esky when we get dem!" and he let out a hearty belly laugh.

Fiji Part II - Fiji Time

Thursday, April 28, 2011. Sand Spit, 5 miles off of Royal Davui Island

I counted aloud as I took broad strides, pacing off the distance from the water's edge on the windward side of the sand spit to our picnic tent. I got to Five.  Five firm footprints stamped distinctly into the into the semi-damp sand. Kim heard me counting and gave me a quizzical look "what are you doing, baby?". 

I replied with calming authority - "It feels like the spit is getting smaller, but I can't tell exactly. I think the tide is coming up and now we can keep an eye on the 5 footprints to see how much time we have before the water gets to the tent. The boat is supposed to pick us up in 45 minutes - so this way we can keep an eye on things. I'd say the third footprint is a good warning mark that we'll need to do something". 

"Something like what?". 

"I have a plan. Don't worry" - I lied.

She took the last sip of wine from her glass and looked at me with a dreamy-eyed sense of awe. "He is the smartest man I have ever met. He knows all these things about nature and tides and stars and things and he will always keep me safe". She frolicked back to the other side of the spit and started looking for shells or something.

I was trying to be calm in front her - but the fact is that the tide was definitely coming up and this tiny spec of exposed sand in the middle of the vast South Pacific was much smaller than when we arrived. The spit had shrunk from about 250 feet long to about 150 feet long - but the width was still about the same. Probably 30 feet. That's why Kim hadn't noticed - because the ends were creeping in on us - but the distance across the middle was staying the same. If the water were to rise beyond my fifth footprint it was going to go all the way across. For about half of the day our sand spit is a romantic and isolated picnic destination - and for the other half of the day it serves another purpose - acting as the ocean floor.

I tried to distract myself - but my attention kept being drawn back to the first footprint. Still dry.Good thing. Just 44 minutes more and we are out of here. Those guys better not be on Fiji Time today. I confirmed the pickup time with them twice when they dropped us off. They assured me they would be back on time. Watch, footprint, horizon, sky... Sky? I don't know - maybe I'd see some answers up there. Or maybe I just didn't want Kim to see me staring at the second hand of my watch and I was trying to act like I was just casually looking around. Footprint, Watch, horizon (still no  boat coming), sky.

I decided I'd take a little walk around the perimeter. Look for shells. Distract myself. Even though the width of the spit was remaining constant - I could feel the water pushing itself upward like it was trying to swell around the edges. There weren't any waves rolling up onto our "shoreline" - just poorly formed splashes here and there. The splashes stopped for a moment and it was quiet and calm. I could see a surge forming and I spun around to look at the footsteps just in time to see them disappear under a surge of rising water. All five of them. All at once. Right up to the bottom of our picnic tent. Right past number 3 and on to 4 and 5.

CRAP! F**K!

43 minutes until the boat gets here. They had better not be on Fiji Time today.

The water receded - but the footprints were gurgling with water. I walked over and glared down into them. And tried to figure out my next move... 238,000 miles above us, the moon was exerting gravitational forces that were pulling all of the water in the Pacific ocean in our direction. And Luna does not operate on Fiji Time.

And I thought about the baby shark we saw when snorkelling the day before and wondered where its parents were.

April 24-27, 2011. Royal Davui Island

The most striking thing about Fiji is how warm and sincere the people are. They melt you with their charm and it was common for wait staff or taxi drivers to completely forget about their job and engage with wonderment in a conversation about where we are from. I've been in Mexico and Jamaica and cruise ships where the staff are "fake nice" and this was very different.

They have a habit of being late. They laugh it off and say things like "you are on Fiji Time now!"

We showed up for the 2:30 guided snorkel tour and the guide showed up at 3:10. "Fiji Time!".

The island we stayed on accommodated 15 couples at a time. It is a very private and very secluded island. We had a pop culture moment when we went to happy hour the first evening and Kim spotted an actress from Grey's Anatomy. They struck up a friendship during the week and she was really nice and nobody knew who she was (and we didn't let on). I don't want to put her name on the blog because then it will show up on a Google search and I don't want her to think Kim betrayed her or will be telling any secrets. She was obviously there to let her hair down in private. She plays Lexi if you watch the show.

But that's not what this blog is about - I got off track. One of the featured activities is called the Sand Spit picnic. The Sand Spit is way out in the Pacific Ocean completely in the middle of nowhere. Nothing but Sand and sea shells surrounded by ocean with just enough room to walk around a little bit. They take one couple at a time out by power boat and drop you off with an umbrella, a cooler, and a red water proof bag with an emergency satellite phone and instructions on how to use it in case of emergency.

Almost every couple signs up for it and they can only do two per day - so we got our assigned date/time as soon as we arrived. As the week went on - it became customary for the couple who went to the sand spit that day to make mention of it at happy hour. It seemed like each time - the story ended with "... and we used the satellite phone to call them to get us early". Too hot. Too Windy. Had to take a dump. Whatever. 

I thought to myself - we are going on Thursday - and I am NOT breaking the seal on the emergency phone. This is a grand adventure and we are going to stay the full allotted time! Rain or shine!

The girl scheduling us told us that because of the tides - we needed to go at 4:30 and she apologised that it would be too late for lunch and asked what we wanted to pack in our cooler (they call them Esky's - I assume short for Eskimo). We said "just give us a bottle of wine and some cheese". Then I thought to myself "...4:30?? That's odd. It gets dark at 6:00... what if it gets dark and they can't find the little spec of sand in the middle of nowhere and then the tide comes up and then the sharks come.... (we had been snorkelling with a baby shark already so we knew they were around). Then I got distracted and forgot about it.

The day before our outing - the chief captain of the marine crew urgently came and found us by the pool. "Miss Kim-bu-lee? You goin' a Sand Speet amorrow? You can no go at 4:30!" (as if it was our decision in the first place). It get dark and tide come up and we not can find you! (sorry I can't type Fijian - I can only do cockney and bee dibity).

He kind of looked up at the sun and sniffed the air and said "10:00 will be best time for tides". I was a little shaken that they seemed to be making this up as we went along. I don't know that much about island life and I saw the flaw in the original 4:30 plan... why did it get as far as it did? Then I got distracted and forgot about it.

April 28, 2011. Royal Davui Island

The next morning greeted us with weather that was a bit dodgy.  Rain and wind and a bit cool. But as breakfast went on I could sense it was getting better - so I was pretty confident we would still make it out to the sand spit.

Kim had won a drinking contest or something with Lexi the night before and she was off getting her free 30 minute massage after breakfast while I was getting my 30 minutes of internet time in with my iPad outside of the library. Kim mandated a firm limit of 30 minutes and then I had to unplug.

Chief Captain came and found me squinting at my iPad and interrupted me and said a bunch of stuff that I couldn't understand at all. I assumed he was asking me if I was still interested in going to the sand spit in an hour - and I said "looks like it's clearing up- so we probably will." He looked confused and I said "when Kim get's back we'll decide" and he left. Looking a little confused.

His interruption cost me valuable internet time and now there wasn't going to be enough time to do all of the things I wanted to. I decided I had just enough time to check the Royals score (lost), see if I had any new comments on the blog (I didn't), and check the Drudge headline (boring). What I should have done instead, I now know, is to google the precise arrival time of the next "high tide" in that part of the south Pacific. But we'll get to that.

Kim returned. We decided the trip was 'on'. Also decided that it wasn't important for us to be on time at the marine office because we kept getting places early and waiting around for Fiji Time.

Then we learned that Fiji time only works for Fijians. We got to the marine office exactly 1 minute late and passed two grinning marine crew members skipping by like Matt and Barb Huffman leaving work on a Thursday afternoon for a 3-day weekend. They had fishing poles and a look of pure joy.

Chief Captain saw us coming up the stairs and realised that we were, in fact, going to do the picnic. I guess that as soon as the clock struck 10:00 they had assumed we were a 'no' and that meant fishin' time for the two guys who were supposed to take us out to the spit. Capitan yelled something at them and they froze. Their fishing plans just got ruined.

The sea was rough and the boat was not that big - so I assumed we would get wet. I really wanted to take my iPhone to get pictures and a video but I didn't want to risk getting it wet. Kim told me that they had plastic tampon disposal bags in the bathroom. It was a perfect fit - so I wrapped my iPhone inside one and smuggled it onto the trip.

{To Be Continued...}

 Here is a picture from the sand spit taken with my smuggled iPhone:

Fiji Part I - Escape from Denarau

We visited Fiji over Easter and the following week. It's a 5-day weekend holiday here when you throw in ANZAC day (Australia New Zealand Army Corps landing at Galipoli).

Liane (blog follower) is our Travel Agent. She lined up an itinerary that had us arrive in Fiji and spend a couple of days in the tourist hotspot Denarau before shuttling off to our secluded island paradise on the other side of the tall mountains and out to sea.

Australia is so vastly large, and they don't have "interstate hi-ways" like we have in the US. So when Aussie families go on vacation - they don't load the kids into the SUV and hit the road (okay - I'm generalizing - many probably do that but how would I know). Instead - they cash in their Quantas points and fill up the airplanes with fidgety, sneezy, seat-kicking kids. Even business class is full of kids.

I swear this is not an exaggeration - when I got off of the flight I had trail mix falling off of my lap and down my shirt that somehow got on me from a kid throwing a fit on the other side of the 747. Since these lovable little rascals were all on their way from Sydney to Denarau - I was really looking forward to our secluded island paradise that was waiting for us on the other side of those tall mountains and out to sea. I read on the web site that there are no  kids allowed on the island paradise. 

Good work Liane.

I do some domestic travel for my job within Australia. I've flown to Melbourne, Canberra, and Brisbane. Quantas is consistently $150 more than the other airlines. Quantas is also consistently full. It's parents racking up miles so they can take their kids on holiday every year!

Liane worked out our itinerary from the US and 15 time-zones away from us. It was a lot of work for her and she stayed up into the middle of the night (her time) so she could talk me through the options. Over hours of phone calls I asked question after question after question... and she answered one after the other after the other.

I forgot, however, to ask a very important question...

"Hey, Liane! How, exactly, do we get over the tall mountains and out to sea?"

We arrived early to Nadi Airport on the morning of our escape from Denarau to paradise so we could beat the crowds. The airport is remarkably modern and efficient. We looked for our check-in counter "Royal Davui".

We saw American, Continental, Pacific Air, Royal Davui. There it is! "Hey Kim look - there is no line! Let's go check in even though we are early".

The guy behind the counter greeted us. Clicked on his keyboard and checked us in. He took our Bags and asked us to step onto the luggage scale. I mis-understood and put my carry-on backpack on the scale. He smiled and said "you too".  "Huh?" "Sir we need you to step up onto the scale". I looked over my shoulder - "In front of all these people?" There was a 747-sized load of families weaving back and forth through the roped off lines next to us at Pacific Air. It was humiliating - but we each did it. And people looked and pointed because when you step up onto the scale - you are well above the crowd and on display. This was my first inkling that I should have asked Liane more questions about this leg of the journey.

Then after we finished that process he told us  "wait over there" - and vaguely pointed towards a coffee shop. Bewildered - I asked "Where? Over where? (Frantically pivoting my head back and forth to look from him to wherever he was pointing and trying to triangulate exactly where that was) Will they make an announcement? How will we know where to go?" He said "Don't worry, we'll come get you" and he switched off his light, shut down the counter and left.

Hmmm. His computer screen must have told him that we are the last ones to check in? That's odd. I thought we were early. Let's go find where everyone else is waiting.

Ummm, Liane.... Umm , hello... no,no everything is fine.  I have a question... what is "Royal Davui" airline? You got us in business class, right? Just checking. We never really talked too much about this part of the trip.. not sure? local travel agent booked this? okay... bye now. Yes, everything is great so far. Bye.


We milled around the coffee shop. I was nervous, as usual, that we might not be in the right place and annoyed that the stupid guy behind the counter was so vague about where we were supposed to wait ... and  then a guy came out and waved us over to a security checkpoint that I hadn't noticed on the far wall. I was a little embarrassed that we went to the coffee shop instead of through security like everyone else did. I was so relieved that we were back on track - I quick slide stepped across the floor toward the metal detector, accidentally leaving Kim several steps behind me. I was anxious to get through security and find the rest of our Royal Davui travelers.

There was no line at the xray machine so we stepped right up. They asked us to take out our liquids and our laptops and place our bags on the belt -same as in the US and everywhere else.  Pretty modern and familiar. I caught a glimpse of the waiting area through security and noticed that we were late and the other passengers had already boarded the plane and now there probably wouldn't be any room left in the overhead compartment for my backpack.

Man, that's a bummer... stupid coffee-shop-pointing guy sent us the wrong way and now we will be the last ones on the plane. How embarrassing. Maybe Kim will let me put my backpack under her feet...


We easily found our gate and stepped out the door towards our plane...

                                                      Royal Davui Flight 001

                                                     Liiiiiaaaannnnnne! 



The tall mountains were probably 2000 feet. We were flying mostly at 3000 feet but sometimes I'd look at the gauge and it said 2400 or so. The mountains were looming in front of us like we were certain to crash into them (an optical illusion I guess).

Our pilot was texting with her cell phone during the entire flight. Seriously.

More on Driving

I've mentioned several times that I don't drive over here. I usually offer the explanations of 'why' in a boastful and arrogant manner to paint the picture of how smart I am and how much money we save by not driving.

Well... there is another reason I don't drive. Too many drivers honk at each other. I don't like the idea of being honked at while I hesitate to decide who has the right of way in the roundabout when the cars are all on the wrong side of the road. The slightest hesitation and <HONK>! Forget it. I don't need the humiliation and stress. There it is. Full confession.

This brings me to today... I walked out of our office this morning to attend a meeting across town. A few steps down the sidewalk and I heard two horns simultaneously. That's not very unusual. But then I heard a crash and grind as the two cars came together. They were headed the same direction and the car on the left was in a "turn only" lane and decided to go straight instead - but there was another car in that lane and the two cars crunched together and came grinding to a noisy stop in the middle of the intersection.

All of this happened just a few feet from where I was. Heads spun around when the crash happened. People stopped in their tracks. The other cars, buses, and taxis all stopped.

During this frozen-in-time moment of eerie silence in the Central Business District, the cars were wedged side-by-side, door-to-door. I could see their windows were open and the two drivers were sitting a mere 5 feet apart. Do you know what happened next?

They honked at each other one last time. Taking turns. No words, even though they were close enough to have an intimate conversation with each other through their open windows. No eye contact. Each trying to establish the righteousness of their position with the final "honk". As if to present their case to the stunned on-lookers:

one medium long honk - "didn't you hear me honk?!"

one short dismissive honk - "yeah, whatever. bite me!"

As the accident was happening - I doubt that either driver ever, even for one millisecond, considered using their brakes instead of their horns. That's just not how things are done over here.

Orion the Hunter

On clear nights we can see brilliant stars. When we were on the cruise back in January we had a spectacular view of the Southern Cross. It drops below the southern horizon during parts of the year so it was a unique experience. The stars on the Aussie and NZ flags represent the Southern Cross.

Back home in Manly - Orion's belt is the first thing that catches the eye when you look up. It is one of the constellations that can be seen from both of our homes on each side of the equator. Only there is a wrinkle... ready for a headache? Then read on...

Picture a tennis ball hanging in the air (earth). Picture yourself standing midway between the equator and the top of the tennis ball with your head pointing at an angle upwards. Now picture Bryan and Kim standing towards the bottom of the ball with our heads pointing at a similar angle downwards...

In this imaginary room with the imaginary floating tennis ball - imagine a poster on the wall across the room. Now think about how that poster would look to your tiny imaginary self  as you raise your tiny head to look at it. Now switch your perspective to ours. Down here near the bottom. Our feet magically clinging to the fuzzy tennis ball and our heads dangling below our feet towards the floor. Looking up at the same poster on the same wall... notice anything different in your mental view of the poster?

When we all look off into the distance at Orion - it is upside down here in Australia! I didn't notice at first, I just saw the three prominent stars that make up the belt - but Kim pointed out that the sword hanging from his belt was pointing up. Then I squinted and did the tennis ball imagination thing and about 2 hours later I sort of worked it out in my mind.

I've known since kindergarten that the earth is round and that gravity pulls us to the center. It is one thing to be able to correctly pick those words in the form of a multiple-choice answer on a school test. It is a deeper level of realization as we now find ourselves clinging upside down towards the bottom of the floating and spinning tennis ball. I've become much more aware and appreciative of the miracle of gravity!

http://www.dibonsmith.com/downunder.htm