These words ring true in many ways. It was drafted (or something very similar) on a highway sign as we trekked to Streaky Bay today. My adrenalin junkie shark cage diving experience ended up as more of a sea-sick journey to no-where than adrenalin (epinephrine for the aussie folk) filled, big teeth chomping, soil your pants sort-of affair. We ventured out 2 hrs and 40 mins to our anchorage spot between two islands of happy, lazy sea lions, frolicking on the rocks, minding their own business and for the next 6 hours poured fish blood and guts in the water waiting for the elusive snare of a great white's nostril to come and visit our wee cage. It was myself and about 14 other brave souls wishing a glimpse of this ocean beast so well engraved upon our sub-conscious by countless news renderings and the fatalistic du-dunt, du-dunt, du-duntduduntdudunt - so mechanically portrayed in Jaws. I thought I'd prepared well for the journey taking my two ginger anti-nauseant tabs well in advance of stepping aboard yet the urge to purge sat with me as soon as we were out of the harbour. I did my best to hold it all together until the fated moment I was sitting in the galley, finishing the task of putting on a wetsuit when there was really no way of keeping all that I had savoured earlier in the morning, down the hatch if you will. I wistfully grasped for the standard white vomit bag racked an arms breadth away and proceeded to chunder - I thought - quite submissively and subtley, until all was good again. Sure enough - not an hour later, lunch was ready for tender and although roughened by the initial blow, felt pangs of hunger which needed to be filled. I felt rather like a Roman at a vomitorium as no sooner had it entered the hatch than found a way out again - this time peacefully and again quite subtley - over the edge - if I couldn't enjoy it - why shouldn't the fish? I repeated my purging a couple more times and then seemed to settle. I think I managed rather better than some of my colleagues suffering the same fate as I actually was able to function between the chunders. Despite the lack of large toothy grins and fins, I still made my way into the cage for a look around in the deep. If a great pearly white had been visiting, it would have been absolutely thrilling as the bated food sat but meters from the underwater viewing slots and we would have been up close and personal. Earlier in the day, the skipper had teased me about some remnant sunscreen, poorly worked into my ever-growing forehead and I cantered with " it's shark repellant" - talk about famous last words to ruin a day! So unfortunately, the journey to and fro with much ado in between was all we were able to take in on this day - they've given me a voucher for half price next time though ...not sure I'll be able to fit it in - too much country to see - so little time...
As a glutton for punishment, we woke early the following morning to take down camp and join a crew for another ocean-going journey - this time to swim with sea lions. It was all quite festive as it was Aidan's birthday (he's turned 9 ! ). This time I got into the pharmaceuticals - none of this ginger - mumbo-jumbo - homeopathic/alternative glah - full on with the metoclopromide and I was good to go. The trip went without a mishap this time and swimming with these amazingly agile and friendly creatures was cold but very enjoyable and entertaining. It's rare that one can get so close to such natural and friendly beasts - we truly felt fortunate. Once back on terra firma we were off to Streaky Bay - a few hundred kms up the coast, primarily to put some mileage in towards Perth, but also to enjoy a B-day dinner and the local sites and surrounds. Again we were in this amazing rural sprawl of sweeping yellow paddocks, few trees and scrub. At points you could pick out the coast with large dunes invading the countryside. We stopped in a place called Sheringa - should have been Shenanigans - not sure why they stopped short? It was a store in the middle of nowhere really and there was a sign attached to the servo/town store suggesting just that. They were offering fuel - which we needed, and oysters for $5 dollars a dozen! Who could say no to that! I also noted, while fixing up the fuel bill, parcels of 5 acres of land for a mere $30,000 a block - says a little bit about Sheringa, no? Onwards we went, joining the hundreds of other caravaners who had beaten us up the road to the Foreshore Caravan Park. There are literally over a hundred other caravaners "roughing it" with us here on the foreshore. It's almost like an Australian lust for living in a trailer park - and here we've joined the lot - a swarthy group of white upstanding trailer park trash - so good to be alive...and travelling! Tomorrow we'll see Murphy's Haystack - yet another pile of rocks, and stick our heads in a faux great white shark's mouth - should be good for a couple good snaps!
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