100th Blog, Our Country, Their Country and the Travel Itch!

Can you believe it – it’s the 100th Blog – I don’t think I’ve ever written anything close to 100 pages, days, accounts, episodes….I enjoy it so much I’ve actually bought a bunch of books on travel writing in case I ever wish to change careers and need some advice on how to go about it. Tonight I’m sitting down at our fold-out table, a nearly empty glass of red wine (Yalumba Vintage Cabernet) with Jen adjacent, working on her paper. The kids are deep into the Lego and you can hear the hardened plastic balls of Bionical weaponry bouncing off the walls. We’re buying time before tonight’s main attraction – Top Gear – on at 8:30pm. Streaming from my wee ipod speakers squeaks some melodic Radiohead. I’ve just finished my last ‘day’ shift and have 2 nights yet to attend to here in the Broome Emergency. Bottom line - I get to sleep-in tomorrow morning and enjoy a day in Broome with the family until 5pm when I get to fly solo in the ER! Jen and the kids haven’t been up to anything extravagant but did have a sing-a-long with some street buskers today attracting a crowd of on-lookers and keen photographers.

We’ve only been here just over a week and I’m getting the itch – the need to get back on the road, hit the wide open spaces and see more of this marvellously enigmatic land. We are a privileged little mob. I feel a little guilty telling other colleagues of our escapades and plans as they are in such a different state of mind and living an existence caught up with the daily grind, mortgages, tomorrow’s clinic or surgical roster – something I too will soon be enveloped by. Our freedom to move and see the things we have and will be able to see was brought particularly to light in a story by our tour guide to Cape Leveque’s tale about an Aboriginal friend of his from one of the coastal communities we visited on the weekend. He was espousing his plans to visit some local gorges and geological sites to her and she envied his freedom of movement as she was governed by a different set of unwritten laws which forebade her uninvited visits to another Aboriginal community’s ‘country’. There are a good 20 different communities along the Cape coast north of Broome and each is of a different Aboriginal lineage and ‘country’ with physical borders and unwritten sacrosanct laws. She was scared to set foot in another group’s territory as the punishment – set down from ages past – was to have a spear thrust into one’s foot for trespassing. Seems odd in our 21st century that such archaic customs still persist but alas they do. In a moment of free time today, myself and a couple of the other doctors had a discussion of different perspectives of risk. The oldest and possibly wisest of us was full of information from recent literary adventures and experiences. Risk is apparently something that can’t be comprehended without at least a grade 3 understanding of mathematics and the concepts held therein. Cultures in which education has faltered to some degree tend to rely on superstition or spirituality to dictate how they live their life or understand fate. Cause doesn’t necessarily equate to effect. The overconsumption of alcohol on a regular basis doesn’t correlate with the associated physical effects but rather on ‘the Gods’ and chance. One’s brother may eventually die from kidney failure due to poorly controlled diabetes but it is chance alone that predicates whether this befalls the individual him/herself. It’s difficult for us doctors to sometimes get our heads around this mindset as it seems so contrary to our embedded way of looking at the world. We can advise until we are blue in the face and pulling out our hair, but without a comprehension of how risk fits into an individual’s world view our words are lost and empty. Without a change of perspective in which risk is understood from a cause and effect view of the world, preaching a healthy lifestyle hasn’t a chance.

We have but six weeks of adventure in Australia left. In the immediate future we hope to check out some of the impressive gorges and geological features of the Kimberley then head up to Darwin. From there we will make tracks across northern Queensland to Townsville and then down the coast. By the second week of June we hope to be sailing the Whitsundays and then trekking to Hervey Bay for a short excursion to Fraser Island. We’ve been promising the kids a session on the Gold Coast and its theme parks so will head there next, selling the Kluger and Caravan by auction in Brisbane and getting ourselves organized for our trip to Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos en route to Canada at the end of June. Once back in the Great White North we will join my parents in their new motorhome and make our way to a family reunion in Northern Saskatchewan before making the last little hop to Barrie, Ontario. Seems like so much to fit into such a short period of time but alas – you only live once. Carpe Diem !

Irukandji in the ER, A bit of Obs, and a Bone-jarring visit to Cape Leveque

It always happens when we get settled for a week or so that the daily experiences to enlighten these pages dry up a bit. My work isn’t mundane but just not overly publishable. The kids and Jen are getting around and seeing the sights – doing the camel trek, getting to the beach, going to the weekend markets. Having missed these experiences being holed up in the ER, I unfortunately cannot comment but they sounded fun (I’m just jealous!). We did end up going out to dinner Saturday soire at Matso’s Brewery – a microbrewery/chic little restaurant in town that makes a host of beers including their coupe de grace – Mango beer. Sadly, it’s a bit over-rated – basically a mango-flavoured shandy – nothing to write home about other than being novel. The dark ale was good though and not just in the microbrewery way – it was fresh and hoppy – quite flavourful and quaffable. Would go back for one in a second. The food was average and pricey but such is the way in some of these resorty places. Jen and I had a combo dish with a type of white salmon, kangaroo, spiced chicken and harrassi spiced prawns – sort of bar-fare kind of standard – would go with the curry next time. All tolled, it was just nice to get out with the family for a change. Not sure how I survived the heavy work load in Narrandera for so long or how I will manage getting back into the swing of things back in Canada. I’ve been spoiled!



I’d had an interesting day in the ER none-the-less as we had 2 unfortunate souls arrive post-irukandji stings at a local beach. The first fellow was out in knee deep water enjoying a cool beer (as you do in Oz) when he felt a slight sting to his elbow and shortly thereafter an uncomfortable cramping to his back and chest. He responded well to our symptomatic treatment but once this wore off the symptoms returned. By the time my shift had ended he was still there waiting for the toxins to finish their toll on his system. His was apparently a mild reaction. Some of the nurses reported previous irukandji victims to be uncontrollably yelling out in pain when stung and requiring massive doses of opiates to settle. Our other sting patient simply had nausea and tingling and came good with fluids and anti-emetics. It added some excitement to my day. Once home and well asleep my phone unexpectedly rang out – the doctor on call needed an assist for a Caesarean Section. Naturally I agreed to help as I haven’t been near the labour ward for months and needed to get reacquainted. It ended up as a bit of a consult as the Doc on call requested my opinion as to whether to give her a trial of vacuum or not and given the clinical situation I felt it was worth a go. In the end he took my advice and with one big push and pull the babe was out and yelping. It was good to know I hadn’t lost my touch in this regard .



Today Jen had organized for us to join a 4WD tour group up to Cape Leveque and some Aboriginal Communities in the near vicinity. We were off and running out the door by 6:30 AM ready to catch our massive Isuzu 4WD bus along with a host of geriatrics – or so it seemed and our tour guide, Wade. Jen and I were very nearly a good 20 years younger than our closest tour group colleagues and no one else had kids. Naturally we found our position at the back of the bus and in true rebel style, had a bit of a chit chat while our tour guide attempted to ramble on with his quota of stories and information. The problem was that the speaker system and bouncy four-wheel track were not conducive to what one might call actual ‘hearing’ and as such we chose to ignore the ‘Charlie Brown’ Teacher’s voice in the background to actually have a discussion we could understand. Unfortunately, being loud and North American got us in trouble and the rather obese, sedentary geri sitting in front of us became unnerved and asked us to quiet down – for what I’m not sure. It almost felt like we were in a bus with a bunch of retired old school teachers – many patronizing us with regards to the kids. At lunch the oldies seemed quizzical at whether or not the kids were in school (it was a Sunday!) for which I had to go through a thorough explanation. We seemed accepted in the end and I think the kids impressed with their behaviour – so we went home proud. The trip was otherwise great and much was learned about this part of the world. Our first stop was in a place called Beagle Bay – where Darwin’s ship actually docked at one point during his pivotal tour around the seas and to the Galapagos where his theory of evolution was derived. Aside from this famous acquaintance, the community is famous for a church built by a missionary sometime in the 1800’s. The bricks had to be built from local supplies such as the calcium carbonate of crushed sea shells and the inside has been decorated with in-laid mother of pearl shells. It was actually quite exquisite to see. From Beagle Bay we headed further up towards the Cape and learned about the less well known pirate named Dampier who frequented the west coast of Australia not only as a buccaneer but also as a naturalist and explorer well before Captain Cook claimed the big island for Britain. Cook actually used Dampier’s charts during his voyage! A stop at a tropical, barramundi and mangrove jack fish-farm at One Arm Point gave the kids some fun as they got to feed some of the big barramundi and sea turtles and gawk at some different species of Nemo (clown fish). The 11 foot(?) tide was on the way out (the second largest tide in the world … to the Bay of Fundy of course) and it actually appeared as though there were rapids the tidal pull was so great! Once in Cape Leveque we settled down for some lunch at the resort  and had a chance for a snorkel and explore in the afternoon. As I was a little knackered from the late night call the night before I had presumed Jen had packed my swim shorts so had a little surprise to find I had no togs to wear in the rolling surf. Jen kindly offered me her short blue shorts – they were better than my form fitting jocks – so I had tried them on and instantly felt like an Aussie Rules footie player with the tight short shorts. Jen was in near hysterics and vowed to get a photo. The visibility was a bit obscured by sand – likely from some off-shore storm or something, so we weren’t able to see much and the sharp coral seemed to make mince-meat of us, slicing Cole a couple times and myself a good 3-4 times on the feet. It almost felt like my skin was like butter when it touched these rocks – with a seemingly innocent scrape peeling off layers of skin. All I could think of was the heightened sense of smell for blood I imagined crocs to have and could envision one hankering in the hazy water making a b-line for me as I helped Cole back to shore. Fortunately, the crocs don’t like fast moving water and tend to hang out in the creeks rather than the shoreline of the Cape. The sandstone rock formations were once again magnificent to behold with wind-shorn tiers, multiple colourations, and impossible frail ledges or hollows bored out by the wind and ocean. We eventually clambered back aboard our bus and began the long journey (240 odd kms) back to Broome. The road in and out has an area that has been paved towards the tip where a host of Aboriginal Communities are located. It runs for maybe 70 to 80 kms – perhaps slightly more, and then becomes a corrugated, seemingly endless 4WD track. It’s one of those roads that when it ends it feels like your whole body has been tenderized by a meat hammer. Like you’ve spent 2 hours being pummeled by a Thai masseuse and her onslaught suddenly ends leaving you in an acute state of calm and serenity. We eventually made it home and without much ado  fed ourselves and called it a night.

The Low-down and Words to live by

We’re into the doldrums of our trip again – a wee siesta in one place with mind-numbing work to be done and schoolwork to catch up on. Work has been good thus far – not dissimilar to a day on-call in Narrandera without the afterhours. It’s actually quite amazing what some people deem as an ‘Emergency’. We had one character loll up today complaining of pain in his big toe which started on Jan.30th – not quite a life threatening concern – so he waited…and waited…and waited – a long, long time. The doctors are quite refreshing as they seem so excited about their work and knowledge. As we were leaving at the end of the shift, we were discussing rare ECG syndromes that both the other docs had seen and had to manage in the past – very stimulating. Having been out of the mix for a few months, the 10 hr days can get a bit weary but I think I’ll manage. Jen and the kids are going alright – schoolwork in the morning and some exploration of Broome in the afternoon. Yesterday they went down to the Port where some dinosaur footprints are touted to exist – unfortunately – they are a ways out to sea and the tides don’t seem to permit visual inspection this time of year. There are sample prints though so the kids could get the gist of what lies out in the very low tide. Today was our Kluger’s 30,000 km servicing so after I dropped it off in the morning, Jen and Co. rode their bikes in later in the day to fix up the bill and drop the keys off for me to grab it after work. Piper’s tag along wasn’t quite tightened enough on Jen’s seat-post so she had a couple of twisty falls as a result – fortunately without injury. You could imagine Jen yelling “Stop wiggling!” Jen described the second twisty fall as being quite humorous as it occurred on an island between two roads and Piper landed face first on the grass uttering “I didn’t wiggle, I didn’t wiggle.” Jen was apparently bowled over in hysterics at all this which must have looked a bit lacking in empathy to the passing motorists. They finally managed to tighten up the attachment on Jen’s seat-post with the aid of a passing lawn-mower man with tools and had no further mishaps.


I was in the staff loo yesterday at work and posted on the walls are a number of laminated sheets of paper outlining the protocol for assessing mental health patients and those with personality disorders as well as this little gem…



What Will Matter

Ready or not, someday it will come to an end. There will be no more sunrises, no minutes, hours or days.

All things you collected, whether treasured or forgotten, will pass to someone else.

Your wealth, fame and temporal power will shrivel to irrelevance.

It will not matter what you owned or what you were owed.

Your grudges, resentments, frustrations and jealousies will finally disappear.

So too, your hopes, ambitions, plans and to do lists will expire.

The wins and losses that once seemed so important will fade away.

It won’t matter where you came from or what side of the tracks you lived on at the end.

It won’t matter whether you were beautiful or brilliant. Even your gender and skin color will be irrelevant.



So what will matter? How will the value of you days be measured?

What will matter is not what you bought but what you built, not what you got, but what you gave.

What will matter is not your success but your significance.

What will matter is not what you learned, but what you taught.

What will matter is every act of integrity, compassion, courage or sacrifice that enriched, empowered, or encouraged others to emulate your example. What will matter is not your competence but your character.

What will matter is not how many people you knew, but how many will feel a lasting loss when you’re gone.

What will matter is how long you will be remembered, by whom and for what.

Living a life that matters doesn’t happen by accident.

It’s not a matter of circumstance but of choice.

Choose to live a life that matters.


There was no author listed so I can’t reference who said it – let’s just say Anon. It’s a bit apocalyptic but a powerful little piece none-the-less. Here’s to a life that matters!

Haircuts, Hospital, Crocs and Docs

I was rostered to ‘travel’ on Monday so had an extra day to venture about doing some overdue errands like haircuts, my “Working With Children” application and a visit with the Senior Medical Officer at the hospital for a quick intro to my new job as District Medical Officer in the emergency. I have to admit I have been a bit nervous about the job up until now as I wasn’t sure how busy and intense the Emergency would be in Broome. I’m experienced in most presentations but being a referral centre wasn’t sure the intensity of the acuity we would be seeing and what sort of support I would have to manage these cases. As it turned out, all the docs working in A+E are GP proceduralists like me so we come from a similar experience and mindset. I was dizzy by the end of my visit with the SMO – she’s juggling about 10 things at a time it seems but is genuinely friendly and accommodating. I was also able to finally catch up with our mail which had fortunately arrived at the hospital after narrowly missing us in Exmouth. We only get mail every 2-3 weeks or so and it is always keenly sought as we’re still waiting for birthday presents and other deliveries to arrive. All of us were in dire need of a haircut to relinquish some of the shagginess we’ve managed to grow over the past few months. It was liberating to shed some locks even though I seem to be getting less and less to donate. We were still behind on the schoolwork front so had to spend a good portion of the afternoon back at home getting caught up. We were finally able to venture to the adjacent park and kick the footie around a bit in the afternoon and I have to say I’m impressed with both Cole and Aidan’s spiral throws and improving kicking ability – seems they might have a bit of sportiness in them after all! We had a couple of kangaroo roasts for dinner – high protein, low fat sort of thing and tuckered out early in anticipation of my first big day back at work in the AM.



I cycled in well in advance of the start of my shift and before I could get formerly oriented was already handed a patient to see. The barrage of information and maze of hallways and turns was a bit mind-boggling but I think I had my head mostly around where I needed to go and how the A+E was meant to run. There were 3 of us holding down the fort and for the most part the day was steady and not overly busy. We were essentially anchored to our posts at the whim of our nurse manager who would triage and retrieve patients for us from the waiting room – it made me squirmy as I like to keep the ball moving and it drives me a bit nutty when I can’t push it along – will take some getting used to. While I was occupied in the A+E for 10 hrs, the kids and Jen managed to get some schoolwork done, visit the local croc and reptile centre, and see the Japanese and Chinese cemeteries. It seems a bit odd to visit such a morbid place but the fact that many of the tombstones are made from flat uneven sandstone blocks and engraved with Japanese and Chinese characters gives it more of an appealing, almost artistic bent. It almost overshadows the fact that any bodies are actually buried there at all and gives an impression more of a gallery than a mortuary. The older graves are from the early pearlers who came to Broome during the Pearl boom – when Broome was the Pearl Capital of the World. We’ll hopefully get to one of the pearling tours while here and learn a bit more about the history and present day world of pearling. We haven’t sat down to watch tele for ages so tonite might enjoy a bit of Top Gear before tucking in – always good for a bit of a chuckle.

Ignorance is Bliss and Cable Beach

Sundays are special. We always look forward to the weekends and I always recall the special breakfasts and dinners we would have on Sundays when I was growing up. The tradition has continued. It just seems right to whip up something a bit more involved for breaky and later in the day have a good and proper evening meal with family (and friends if any are around). We did the eggs benedict thing for our Sunday morning and then headed out to the markets for a proper coffee and browse. Jen was actually feeling like spending money on herself – a rare thing in this bird – and had found a rather larry sun-dress at one of the stalls. They also had some very groovy (and cheaply priced) grass-reed woven fedora hats that fit the kids' heads perfectly – so we were all getting in the groove! The kids have developed a profound love for the John Butler Trio since our Triple J One Night Stand in Alice Springs and wished to emulate the look of their new pop hero. We had school work to do though as we’d been a bit slack during the previous week and had to do some catch up, so headed back to base to get it done. As per usual, the sun was out, sky was blue and temp – rather hot (35 degrees +) so after plodding through a bit of work, it was time to head to the beach! We’ve come to Broome just in time for ‘the Dry’. They’ve just come out of ‘the Wet’ which arbitrarily ends around the end of April. The significance of this is that ‘the Dry’ brings cooler temps and more comfortable living. In terms of the beach, it means the water will also get cooler which reduces the proximity of stingers to the coastline and hence – any unsuspecting human flesh! As we made our way down to Cable Beach, a white board sign posted the temp, where to swim and the date of the last Irukandji Sting – April 26th, 2010. Irukandji are small box-jellyfish about the size of 2 matchsticks. A sting from one can lead to mild and short-lived or extreme and prolonged excruciating pain and potential pulmonary oedema or cardiac manifestations. Over 5 years, Broome has had 159 stings from these beasties and 4 of the unlucky swimmers have had to be airlifted to intensive care with full blown Irukandji Syndrome. Fortunately, there have been no deaths but in other areas of Australia, these have been recorded. Naturally, we weren’t aware of all this and as far as we were concerned and could appreciate, people were swimming (mainly with foreign accents though) and all looked fine and dandy. We spent the better part of the afternoon boogie boarding and hanging out in the surf! The sun was gradually descending in the sky and so we opted to do some exploring of some of the rock formations on the beach with associated tidal pools and catch the sunset. Aidan actually stumbled upon a pair of Oakley Sunglasses buried in the sand that some poor tourist had lost in some potentially drunken lascivious evening on the beach – his/her loss – our gain! One of the iconic images of Broome is the camel trek at sunset along Cable Beach and we could see the camels herded up and ready for their clomp along the beach with eager tourists shelling out hard earned savings to take part. As the sun truly began to set, spreading its magical light across the incredibly textured and multi-coloured sandstone upon which we were sitting, some tourists (probably American – sorry Josh) decided to go down to the water’s edge directly in front of where the sun was setting and took turns taking photos of themselves for what seemed like a millennia. No matter what incantations or hexes we were able to dispel in their direction – they just wouldn’t move…until the very last minute and we were able to get some pretty good shots without their silhouettes invading. We finished the evening at one of the resort restaurants overlooking the beach and were herded to the back corner without any view whatsoever – such is the way when you arrive kitted up in your swimming togs and 3 young kids in tow. The young waitress felt the need to impel upon our children her dietetic wisdom that it was important to eat all the food on their plate – just like all the superheroes do!? It was a bit awkward as we never push our kids to finish their plates – just to eat until they feel full, wishing not to perpetuate the myth that we need to overindulge and overeat just because there is food in front of us – a seemingly encultured trait of our industrialized sensibilities. She was young and naïve though – so we gave it a miss and reassured the kids they’d eaten enough. With darkness pervading we headed home to our cool house and languidly ventured into sleep, looking forward to another day.

To Broome and the Staircase to the Moon

We pulled into Broome around mid-day and managed to find the hospital without much difficulty. It’s practically brand new and despite a bizarre music video playing in the background, the receptionist of the A+E was exceptionally pleasant and immediately found the envelope with the keys to our house and driving directions. The house wasn’t too hard to find and was about three times the size of our flat in Alice (or about 20 times or more the size of our box we call home – the caravan.) It’s in a nice little sub-division and adjacent a park for the kids. It has A/C, a dishwasher and space for us to park Bessie and Gertie side by side under cover – ‘tis a thing of beauty! Once unloaded we headed into town to a weekend market by the courthouse, did a quick amble around the stalls and found some lunch to keep us going for the afternoon. It’s a quaint little place with a trendy shopping area and a large mall not far from an impressive looking aquatic centre. We needed to stock the shelves of our new digs so headed to the local Coles. The kids were overwhelmed with all the stores and were keen to check out the wares of the local Toy World – although our space to accommodate much more stuff in the caravan is extremely limited and as such our visits to toy stores are often fruitless and short-lived. Back at the new base the boys tucked into some school work and I attempted to get organized for our next couple of weeks here. Jen was eager to get out to the town beach for the Staircase to the Moon phenomenon that frequents a few days a month during the full and nearly full moon here in Broome. She’d been told at the Information Centre that the moon rise was going to be at 7:48 pm. Not wishing to miss a thing, she had us woof through dinner and jump in the car by about 6:45 pm. The town beach was just down the road and we definitely beat the masses. There were already people down on the beach all set up to watch when we arrived. Fortunately, there was a park for the kids to play in and Jen and I were able to garnish some entertainment from a rather abusive aboriginal couple who were up in arms over a dead battery in their car. It’s hard to believe people actually can treat each other with such little respect – it was almost verging on brutal at times. There was no physical abuse, just verbal – and nothing was kept to a dull roar – I’m sure the whole beach was aware of the goings on. As the darkness set deeper over the bay we scuttled down to the sand to await this majestic rising of the moon and subsequent display of steps on the tidal flats. At precisely 7:48 pm a slight glow emerged from the horizon, like a flame bursting forth and the moon gradually rose in all its glory. It was quite impressive. The camera snaps were flashing almost like popcorn – building up in frequency as the moon rose, peaking like some sort of paparazzi fest, then gradually dissipating as the moon ascended higher into the night sky. Feeling slightly more complete having checked off this experience in our minds, we headed out in search of an evening ice cream spot but were sadly disappointed in our search, as there was none to be found. With tears in our eyes and lumps in our throats, we toddled back to the base and tore into some fruit and a touch of chocolate to ease the pain of our failed exploit. The beds were comfy and environment cool so all was good and we settled off for another slumber, looking forward to a more substantial exploration of Broome in the AM.

Everyday’s An Adventure

Some people seek out adventure wherever they go, whatever they do – others are quite content to let adventure pass them by and become a wreck when it sneaks up on them and gives them a fright. There were parts of today that pushed the adrenalin lever to high – not for the faint hearted or those that simply love a Sunday stroll down to Bondi. We started the day as any other day – content to keep put at Port Smith, a lovely little off the beaten track sort of place – a haven for weekend fisherman and retirees who love to cast the reel. Jen and the boys got stuck into some schoolwork so Piper and I trucked around the caravan park – checking out this and that, finding out what we could do, where we could fish, what bait to use and how to get to some cool fishing spots. The lady proprietor was quite brisk in her explanation talking about a right and then another right, then a red track and a sandy track. When asked if an AWD would handle the terrain she fell suddenly quiet for a second or two and with an about face to her previous rant, simply said “No, you should probably only go if you’ve got a 4WD.” We’d had this discriminatory discussion before back at Flinders and the fellow who took us on our 4WD trek was a bit more open minded and let us tag along. I had an inkling this was the case again so re-checked her instructions and decided we ought to give it a whirl. We were out here deep in the bush anyway – what’s a bit deeper? The heat was rising and kids had done their work for the morning so we packed up the rod and reel, a few nibbles and some drinks and headed out. I’d checked the tide near the mangrove earlier with Piper and for all intents and purposes it appeared to be receding (or so I assumed). I’ve never had to check tide charts as never had a reason to and the lady didn’t seem to indicate there was any concern in this regard, so like happy little campers off we went. The road was a little bit mucky early on and we had one major fishtail (much to the boys enjoyment) but then went quite well until the “sandy road” appeared. Fortunately it was near the end of the track so we parked and walked the short distance left to the cliffs overhanging the ocean. We were all in flip flops/thongs or lalas – for those in the know – and had to traverse a very sandy part of the road. The sand was so hot it was like walking on coals and we almost had to hop our way up. Piper is one tough little cookie as she didn’t complain a bit but kept losing her lalas in the roasting sand. We eventually made it to the coastline but not without a bit of discomfort. I pulled out the reel and popped on a couple pieces of bait. Aidan was first up on the fishing queue so I showed him how to cast it and then gave him the rod. Literally, less than a minute later he said, “Dad, what does it feel like when a fish takes a bite?” so I grabbed the line near the end of the road and gave it a little tug before realizing he had actually hooked something and it was giving us a fight. He must have let out a lot of line for the fish to swim with as when I was reeling it in it seemed as though we weren’t making any progress. It took a good five minutes but we eventually reeled the fish in and yanked it up the cliff face. It was a Golden Trevally and a good 30cms long – a real beaut! Aidan was in awe as this was the first fish he’d ever caught – he was a bit timid of touching it but we eventually got him over for a hold and a photo. Dinner was on him tonite! Cole and Piper had a go afterwards but unfortunately we didn’t get any other bites. As it was getting past noon and we were essentially out of water and heating up, we decided to head back to camp. The sand was even hotter on the feets on the way back and the pattern of lizard feet and tails quite apparent – it looked like a dot painting in the sand – perhaps where the whole premise came from? We piled in the car and began the track back to the caravan park. As we came out of the upper bush (below the “sandy track”) we noticed that the water was now up into the bushes where the previous track had been. You could feel the tension in Jen suddenly hit ‘near catastrophe – explosion imminent’ zone. She already had some serious stressing out with keeping the kids off the edges of the cliffs overhanging the ocean and now this – no water, an outside temperature of 39 degrees and potentially a bogged in AWD named Bessie! It spooked the adrenalin in me as well but mostly made me a bit excited as this new challenge had suddenly presented itself and we were going to figure it out – living on the edge a bit – where true family bonding comes to life! Others had obviously found themselves in this predicament before and you could make out other tracks to follow in the dry areas that the tide hadn’t crept up into. It seemed touch and go on the lower section where the former road was totally submerged under a foot of water but a higher path had left at least one wheel high and dry. We eventually found the way out without too much ado and Jen’s tension-meter immediately dropped to zero again. There was a palpable sigh in the air and then a massive glug glug of cool drink after a quick stop at the park’s office/store. After cleaning the fish the boys got back into some school work and I found some time to hack away at the guitar for a while – something I haven’t managed to do all that much on our trek. As the sun was beginning to descend from its daily journey we headed out to the tidal flats and soaked in the warm Indian Ocean waters of the lagoon, chasing schools of fish and trying to catch some of the bigger fish with our bare hands. The Golden Trevally was absolutely scrumptious and barely a myotome was left over from the kids plates. We are a fortunate bunch and despite our squabbles and indiscretions from time to time, are really living an adventure we’ll look back fondly upon for years to come. Next stop - Broome!

The yellow shows where we've been thus far and if you can see the pink dots - these are places we've stayed (the cloth map is thanks to Robyn - back at the Narrandera Medical Centre)