Andrea Johnson Photography

 

Sailing Whitsunday Islands

“The weather started getting rough, the tiny ship was tossed. If it wasn’t for the courage of the fearless crew, Bojangles would be lost…”

Captain Dale yelled, “Hang on!” Our stomachs dropped as we plunged down the backside of the swell. Swallowed in its trough, we looked up at the next approaching wave that loomed above and threatened to broadside our sailboat. Our torn jib flapped helplessly in the wind while we struggled to make headway against the tide. The ocean, in this exposed passage, was even rougher than we had expected.

A year ago we took sailing lessons hoping for an opportunity to sail sometime during our journey. Our preparation wasn’t wasted – we arranged to charter a bareboat yacht together with another couple, Julie & Anthony, who also planned a Great Barrier Reef vacation. By splitting the costs between four people, preparing our own food, and mooring away from large resorts, we were able to afford seven days of skippering our own luxury 35-foot sailboat (costs averaged just US$44 per person per day but could have been much higher without negotiating a ‘special deal’).

The night before setting sail we all arrived in Airlie Beach, the launching point for our Whitsunday Island adventure.  We stocked up at the grocery store with a week’s worth of provisions & after stowing our gear in our boat we were ready for the morning orientation at the Whitsunday Escape office. Vit, our laid back instructor, gave us the low down on places to sail and our boat, Bojangles. Then upon passing an open book test he graduated us from class – we were amazed that with our little combined experience the four of us were deemed competent sailors. Soon afterwards Vit guided Bojangles out of the harbor advising us to keep the motor running and mainsail reefed in for storm conditions. It was a daunting experience to begin sailing in choppy seas with winds gusting up to 25 knots. With Vit’s final words of encouragement, “Have fun!” we were on our own.

Dale & I navigating stormy weather

Once firmly anchored to overnight in Cid Harbor we relaxed with a glass of wine on and relaxed after our first big day of sailing. Vit had stressed the importance of anchoring well to keep the boat securely positioned against the dramatic tidal variations and gusty winds. We soon realized his concern was warranted when we noticed a nearby sailboat drift, dragging its anchor (fortunately the boats occupants took action in time to avoid a collision with another boat).

The next morning we awoke to a crisis – our boat had no coffee maker! Thinking quickly, Julie and Anthony solved the problem by boiling coffee grounds and straining them through a bandana. Savoring our morning brew we awaited the 8 a.m. radio weather forecast which was followed by a boat check-in. Using proper radio etiquette, we responded to our first call: “Bojangles, Bojangles, Bojangles, this is Whitsunday Escape. What are your intentions for the day? Over,” by answering “Whitsunday Escape, this is Bojangles. We plan on setting sail for Macona Inlet and anchoring for the night. Over.” With our plan approved we signed off and set about making breakfast.

A daily routine was easily established; coffee, radio check-in, a scrumptious breakfast, a late start for the next destination, a few hours of sailing, anchoring, then leisurely preparing the evening feast. Our most difficult decision of the day was which bottles of wine should accompany dinner. We rationed ourselves to two bottles per night of Australia’s finest wines collected during the group’s travels, and hoped we could survive on these ‘meager’ portions.

Whitsunday Islands sunset

Captain Dale usually took the helm and the seasoned crew handled the sails. Our guards were down after enjoying several days of easy sailing when a sudden rainstorm surprised us. With limited visibility, strong winds, and driving rain, controlling Bojangles instantly turned into organized chaos. Then, as quickly as it began, the storm moved on leaving us heading 180 degrees off our original course. We made a mental note – take a compass heading for a clear course before it’s needed!

Casual sailors rarely visit the isolated Border Island and its tiny beautiful bay. In order to reach this coral fringed island boats must negotiate a narrow, swirly passage during an outgoing tide before crossing an unprotected rough channel. The weather had finally cleared enough for Whitsunday Escape to approve our visit, and everyone was excited to go ashore after the long trip. Dale chose to hop off the sailboat and paddle his surfboard 150 yards to shore. Julie, Anthony and I loaded the outboard-motored dinghy with camera gear and supplies (beach towels, snorkel gear, and beers) for a fun excursion.

From a unique vantage point onshore, Dale watched an interesting situation unfold:

“Having just paddled against the gusting wind and tiptoeing barefoot across the coral I stood, surprised they were attempting to get ashore. The shallow reef was virtually impassable at low tide, something I thought they had noticed. Opting to use oars to protect the reef (not a bad idea) they killed the motor and lifted it out of the water. Gusts of wind spun the dinghy as their unsuccessful rowing made no headway.

Laughing while watching the ‘Dinghy Three’ drifting, spinning, and struggling, I was relieved when it appeared the beach excursion had been aborted. Anthony put the motor back in the water and attempted to start it while Julie and Andrea continued to paddle. The wind was quickly pushing them away and I thought “throw out the anchor before you drift too far”. Apparently it was too late – they were already drifting out to sea.

I scrambled for my surfboard and started cautiously tip toeing out to the deeper water, hoping to paddle to the nearby yacht and organize a rescue. Fortunately the guys on the yacht had enjoyed watching the entire comical escapade and launched a dinghy to retrieve my fearless crew! Fifteen minutes later I reached the rescuers’ boat. There was a noisy party underway and I readied myself for the grief I expected to receive. Five simple words saved me…

‘Permission to come aboard, captain!’ By blind luck I had addressed the captain and over the roar of laughter from his drunken crew permission was granted. Andrea and Julie were obviously the ‘honored’ guests of the party – the male only crew acted as if they hadn’t seen women for months. Anthony, however, wasn’t being ignored. Our dinghy’s motor problem had mysteriously fixed itself and the good-natured Aussies poked fun at him from all directions. Six hours, twenty bottles of fine wine, and tons of gourmet food later we were back on Bojangles laughing about the good fortune of the ‘Dinghy Three’.”

The next morning we left Border Island unaware of the wild adventure we would encounter next. Bojangles was in need of repair – its jib had been torn on an improperly installed piece of rigging. After a brief discussion and 8 a.m. radio call the solution emerged: We were to sail to Hamilton Island for the needed repair.

Whitsunday Escape had OK’d us to sail through the Solway passage, hinting that it may be a little rough. Normally bareboat charters were discouraged from taking this route because of its strong currents, exposure to gusty winds, and large swells. But from our location it was the quickest route, so after a late start we sailed off. Whitecaps and large waves crashed on the rocks ahead indicating that we should prepare for a rough ride. “Hang on!” Dale yelled.

Our boat accelerated as we plunged into the wave’s trough and then stalled momentarily before climbing the next 10-foot plus swell. Water crashed over the bow as we attempted to maintain course. We needed more speed – our torn jib was useless so the entire mainsail needed to be raised. The boat dropped beneath our feet as we climbed up on deck and made our way forward to the bow in order to untie the reef lines around the mainsail. Anthony readied himself to raise the sail and Dale continued to navigate the boat while shouting out warnings as each large swell tossed the boat. The moment the mainsail lines were free, Dale yelled, “Raise the main!” Anthony cranked on the winch, and Julie returned to the relative safety of the cockpit.

The extra mainsail gave us the speed we needed to cross the channel and leave the rough Solway passage behind. Our last night, safely docked at Hamilton Island Resort, we once again faced our toughest decision…which wines should we have with dinner?

Overall during our  79 days in Australia we drove slightly over 10,000 miles.  Even given the great distances we traveled, we still didn’t see everything we wanted to. So, another time we look forward to returning to Australia to visit Perth, the Bungle Bungles, Darwin, and to scuba dive on the outer Great Barrier Reef.   Luckily, we sold our Subie for Aussie $2,000 (so the car only ended up costing us about U.S. $250 for parts we fixed and another U.S. $1,000 for fuel) to a nice Canadian couple who promised to take good care of Sunshine. We already miss the conveniences of driving and having somewhere to carry all our stuff. Australia is definitely a place we’ll come back to.

The Red Center: Driving in the Unforgettable Outback

No air-conditioning, tinted windows, radio/ tape player, or shocks. Sunshine, our faded-yellow ’83 Subaru wagon, labored down the outback highway fairing just slightly better than us in the oppressive heat. We drove 12 hours a day for 3 days straight, over 1,200 miles from Townsville on the Queensland coast to Alice Springs in the center of Australia, stopping only for fuel and food at gas stations. The sun, a merciless blinding orb, relentlessly shone into the car with a surprising intensity. After the first day of driving we actually longed for a cooling rain, which continued to haunt us relentlessly during our journey.

Outback Highway

The outback highways are ruled by wildlife and road trains. At sunrise we began driving just as the lizards awoke to bake on the bitumen and the birds of prey swooped down to feed on last night’s road kill of kangaroos and cows. Hawks stood two feet tall on legs thick as a man’s forearm and glared at us from the roadside as we drove by.  Lorikeets (rainbow colored parrots) played ‘chicken’ with our car, flying alongside and darting in front of & behind us. Other birds hadn’t mastered this dance & dive-bombed our car  – we hit a few despite our attempts to avert their death wish. One time we dared to drive at night when it became even more apparent we were travelling through wild land. Kangaroos, who hid in the shade during daylight, suddenly leapt at out from the bush and hopped across the road in front of our headlights. Most roads passed through unfenced grazing areas so we were accustomed to seeing cows on the roadside & the occasional herds crossing in front of us. In the dark, however, cows simply stood in the middle of the road and stared into our headlights. We nearly collided with one after cresting a small hill; it never budged as we screeched to a halt, honking madly. Road trains (big trucks with 3-5 trailers totalling 300 feet) also impeded our progress. At times the main highway was only wide enough for one vehicle, so each time we encountered a road train we wisely ‘gave way’, which left us coughing and blinded by a swirling cloud of red dust from the soft shoulder.

The isolation of the outback is hard to describe to anyone who hasn’t travelled there for an extended period of time. Often the road stretched out in front of us, straight and flat, with no signs of human inhabitation for distances as far as we could see. Many of the lands we passed were Aboriginal reserves: If the Aborigines had returned to this land they left no apparent tracks. Few people can withstand the harshness of this climate – our car thermometer often reached 115 degrees Fahrenheit, which felt almost unbearable as our sweaty bodies stuck to the vinyl car seats.

Since we only had two weeks to spend in the outback we sped to and from our destinations in the center as quickly as possible. When we did take the time to slow down for the night we found little used dirt roads to drive down and pitch our tent.  After sunset we noticed sounds and sights we never would elsewhere. At first the silence was eerie and we both complained of a ringing sound in our ears (was this ringing always there in the background, but we had never noticed it before?). Then we began to notice small noises, such as the beating wings of a moth flying overhead. Occasionally we were unlucky enough to share our campsite with mozzies (aka mosquitoes); their buzz seemed so loud it sounded like we were being attacked by B-52 bomber planes. Most nights were clear and moonless and the southern sky lit up with a brilliant display of stars. The sky was so free of light pollution that the beginning and end of the Milky Way was clearly visible, and on several occasions we saw the entire trail of shooting stars streak across the sky.  The Southern Cross was easy to spot along with Mars, the small but bright bluish-green Jupiter, and golden Venus.  Each morning we awoke to the singing of birds and saw the stars disappear into the colors of the sunrise.

Our rustic outback campsite

As we approached Alice Springs the rain began to chase us, making us curse our earlier wish. Roads became overflowed with newly formed rivers, causing us to stop at each flooded area to wade across and test the depth before proceeding. Unseasonably high rainfall was forecast for the next several days, so we decided to continue driving to the opal town of Coober Pedy, one of the driest spots in Australia. We would then work our way back up to Alice Springs via Uluru, the Olgas, and Kings Canyon, driving the back roads. Actually we were happy to continue driving – the outback literally and figuratively had gotten into our skin and we weren’t ready to wash it off and return to the city.

Several science fiction movies have been filmed in Coober Pedy, and it became apparent why as soon as we entered town.  The desolate, lunar-type landscape looked like it was from the scene of post atomic battlefield. Old rusted cars, trucks, and mining equipment were strewn about, showcased as art for tourists to view; the flat, dry and dusty land was spotted with mounds of pink earth piled high next to the countless opal mines; and the majority of the town’s residents lived and worked in underground buildings dug into the hills. Our long journey to reach this destination felt oddly justified; we came to the outback to experience something different and were surrounded by bizarre human and natural landscapes.

It is not uncommon for temperatures to soar upwards of 120 degrees F during the Dec-Feb summer months, yet in March we enjoyed the coolest weather we’d encountered in Australia. Days were pleasant with low humidity and 75 degrees F highs, and evenings were cool enough for a sweater, which hardly made it necessary to remain underground. Nevertheless, we enjoyed the novelty of our underground hostel accommodation and drinking beers with the bartender while watching the movie “Mad Max”. When we did venture outside it was easy to walk everywhere – we covered most of the town in about an hour. An old fashioned mine tour was a fun excursion where we stooped through tunnels to see opal seams exposed in the sandstone and displays of how opal was originally mined in early 1900’s. Afterwards, we opted for modern opal viewing – shopping at the dozens of opal outlets. I was looking for a bracelet to fit my small wrist, so a helpful Aussie recommended the custom jewellery makers at the Opal Cutter. In about 2 hours (ok, I’m picky!) I had chosen the opals and designs for both a custom bracelet and pendant, and by the next day the jewellery was made – all at a very affordable price. That evening we celebrated my jewellery find over dinner at one of the many Greek restaurants in town. It was an interesting ambiance, divided between rowdy mine workers relaxing with a cold beer, locals enjoying the fine dining, and backpackers egging on ‘Crocodile Harry’ as he ranted in a drunken stupor.

The next day we decided to drive along a portion of the historic dog fence to the Breakaways Canyon. This fence is Australia’s equivalent to the Great Wall of China – it’s 3,300 miles long and was erected in the early 1900’s to protect farmer’s sheep and cattle from wild dingo dogs. We weren’t sure if this fence or simply the harsh climate kept away wild creatures – this stretch of desert was the most lifeless land we encountered. The stark landscape with its striking multi-colored sandstone canyon walls was the perfect backdrop for a remote campsite. We fell asleep without hearing a single mozzie and woke up to a silent dawn, the only time we’ve ever been camping and heard no singing/squawking birds in the morning.

Continuing on the Stuart Highway towards Uluru National Park, our anticipation of first glimpsing the monolith grew.  Featured on the cover of most Aussie guidebooks, this immense mound of red rock juts up abruptly from the relatively flat landscape of the outback near the geographic center of the continent.  The ‘red heart’ of Australia has long been an important spiritual center for the Aborigines and has more recently become a pilgrimage for worldwide travelers.  Gradually the landscape changed from flat orange scrub to small undulating hills covered with more lush vegetation and red sandy dirt.  Rounding a bend, we suddenly saw Uluru looming in the distance.  Even through the rain the rock stood out – towering 1,141 feet tall and .2 miles wide – an impressive sight.  As we approached its base the sky cleared and we were just in time to witness a spectacular sunset.  Brilliant colors illuminated the remaining wispy clouds and as the last raysof sunlight passed over Uluru it was transformed into a series of red, orange, and pink hues until fading to grey.

The next morning we awoke early to watch sunrise and to visit the cultural center, which was packed with historical information about Uluru. We learned that when whites ‘discovered’ the Rock in the early 20th century they named it Ayers Rock and began marketing it as a tourist destination. Until recently most tourists visited simply to take photos of the sunset and to climb the steep, treacherous trail to the top. Then, fifteen years ago, ownership of the Rock was given back to the indigenous Anangu Aborigines, the name was changed back to the Aboriginal name Uluru, and joint management of the park between the Australian government and the Aborigines began. Now emphasis is placed on Uluru’s cultural significance, so we chose to take two tours and to walk the circumference of the base rather than to disrespect the sacredness of the rock by climbing it.

The Mala walk, our first guided tour, began at 8 a.m. and was led by an Australian ranger. She brought us along a trail at the base of Uluru to a tall, narrow canyon in the Rock, stopping along the way to decipher Aboriginal rock paintings and areas of spiritual importance. This section was known as the Wallaby Dreamtime place – from Aboriginal dream visions about the creation of this land and its resident animals. We continued walking around the base alone after this tour, a three-hour endeavor, and missed hearing the fun informative stories that previously brought the rock to life. So, at 3:30 p.m. we joined a second tour, the Mutitjulu walk to a permanent waterhole near the base. Charlie, our Aboriginal guide explained the dreamtime stories of the rainbow serpent and showed us natural reliefs in the Rock depicting a battle between snakes.  Somebody asked Charlie why the Aborigines still allow Uluru to be climbed when it is against their beliefs. It was a difficult question but he managed to answer simply, replying that Aborigines are guardians of the land thus feel responsible and greatly saddened when somebody gets hurt. Additionally, we had previously been told that Uluru was only conditionally returned to the Aborigines – they initially were required to keep the trail to the top. To further complicate this issue, Aborigines are given a percentage of the profits from the park fees and climbing the Rock is a big draw for tourists. Nevertheless, the Aborigines are patient people who hope to educate visitors on the reasons why they should respect their wishes to not climb Uluru rather than igniting anger by forbidding this to be done. This approach has been effective – slowly but steadily the number of climbers has been decreasing.

Olgas, aka 'Kata Tjata'

Near Uluru are the equally spectacular sight of the Olgas (aka Kata Tjata ), composed of many boulder-like rocks stacked in a row, and Kings Canyon.   It had been raining steadily for the past week so we were rewarded with a green, wild flower & billabong covered landscape – scenery most travelers don’t experience in the outback.  Normally dry streambeds were active with fish, frogs, pollywogs and other animal life. Anyone who says the outback is a just harsh dry place has yet to visit after the rains.   A roadside marker at a stream crossing showed a maximum depth of 2 feet, so we adopted the Aussie attitude of ‘giving it a go’; unfortunately a sputtering motor brought Sunshine to a halt midstream.  When we stepped out to push volunteers were already wading out to help us to the other side. Fifteen minutes later, after drying out the distributor cap we continued on our way to Kings Canyon.

Our subaru struggled to get through muddy, washed out roads

A spectacular red rock gorge including natural features such as clusters of domed outcrops, sheer canyon walls rising over 300 feet, and a lush palm oasis hiding high in the narrow gorge rewarded our efforts. The four-hour Kings Canyon rim walk offered fantastic views of the surrounding area, and half way along the walk the Garden of Eden came into view. The waterfall cascaded to the gorge floor creating a surreal oasis of unbelievable splendor. We enjoyed a cool and refreshing swim in the spring fed pools before walking back to our campsite.

The last leg of our outback road trip was the Mereenie Loop, a 4-wheel drive only dirt track that snakes through Aboriginal land, mountain ranges, plateaus, crevices and chasms, and lots of bush land from Kings Canyon to Alice Springs.  Our subie bumped along the dirt road and we splashed through the occasional wash outs without problem. Then it appeared – the grand daddy of mud holes. Instead of slowing down this time we accelerated through the middle of the bog. A wave of red mud covered the subie and we rapidly began losing traction. “Come on Sunshine, you can make it!” we pleaded as the tires spun, and then somehow gripped enough to crawl out of the mud. Along this route there were numerous stopping points – swimming holes, a meteor crater, scenic vistas, and places of Aboriginal significance. The ochre pits, a place where Aboriginals visited to collect colored soil, were decorated with shades of brown, yellow, red, and white.  By adding water to the soil it could be used as paint for rock walls, caves, tree bark, and for ceremonial body decoration.  At the end of the Mereenie Loop we encountered the Finke River, which had swollen into a 100-yard wide shallow river that separated us from the bitumen on the other side. The choice was simple – either to cross this water or back track three days to another route.  We slowly crept across the river and emerged on the other side, cheering as we conquered our last river crossing. Once again on tar roads, we closed in on the “big city”. A hot shower, clean clothes, and nice dinner awaited.

Waterfall creates 'Garden of Eden' oasis in King's Canyon

Alice Springs is an “outback cosmopolitan” city that offered great restaurants, nightlife, and even a winery. After a dinner of kangaroo, emu, crocodile, and camel we strolled by a pub with a live band and went in for a look. Scotty’s was a locals pub and the eclectic band of guitars, drums, a digeredoo, flute, and numerous other instruments was a favorite entertainment option with the residents. The band got the crowd involved and we were soon volunteered to play in the band. A digeredoo contest for the best male & female player was offered with the prize being the band’s CD, and although Dale deserved the prize I won by default as the only female player.

After the peace & beauty of the outback, trying to sleep the city grated on our nerves.  We laid in our tent at a campground in Alice Springs, but the blasting television from a nearby trailer kept us awake. By 3 a.m. we couldn’t take it any longer; marched over to the trailer we yelled out to the owner to turn down his T.V.   Evidently he was passed out since we heard no response.  We deliberated another option, then snuck around to the back & pulled the plug connecting his trailer to power.  The sudden silence startled us -we quickly crept back to the tent hoping nobody had seen this escapade. That morning when we left the cord was still dangling where we had left it.

Driving through the outback surpassed our expectations, best summed up by Henry Miller’s famous travel quote “One’s destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things.”

Australia

Subie, Sand, Sun, Surfing, & Sipping
Enjoying Australia’s most popular pastimes: (story by Dale Johnson)

FOR SALE: 1983 Subaru 4 WD Wagon, 4 speed manual, good condition, road worthy certificate, registration ’til Jan 2002, new tyres. $2,050.00 Aus

Our plan was simple enough. Fly into Melbourne, find a place to stay, and search the local newspapers for a cheap dependable used car to provide transport for our three month Aussie encounter.  We found a St. Kilda guesthouse in a trendy neighborhood mixed with cool outside cafes, hip bars, seedy characters, ‘working girls’, Ferraris, Harleys, drag queens and travelers. After cruising through the classified ads, circling a few prospects, and calling for more details, we narrowed down our choices…only two cars that matched what we wanted.

In a borrowed Toyota Corolla, we plotted a course to see our first choice (ad above). The owner, who sounded like a grumpy old man on the phone, turned out to be a friendly guy with the posture of the hunchback of Notre Dame. Pale yellow, sun-bleached inside and out, rust spotted and slightly dented, 232,000 + miles – we couldn’t believe this was our first choice. The Subaru seemed to run ok, but with our ‘vast’ knowledge of automobile mechanics, what do we know? Test-driving revealed it could rattle its way down the road and stop when needed, everything else seemed to work.

As the sweat poured from our bodies in the record 105°F heat, our offer of $2,050 Aussie dollars was conditionally accepted…the old man had already promised somebody else the first shot. Luckily the other couple declined (she wanted a red car), so we counted out our cash, completed the paperwork, and shook hands – the deal was done. Andrea’s perfect name for this car, “Sunshine” stuck as instantly as we did to the vinyl seats. With its red wheels and overall appearance our Subie made a statement – we’re travelers ready to explore Australia!

Cruising the Australian coast without a surfboard on your car is like riding a Harley without black leather – it just didn’t feel right. Adding to the ‘coolness’ factor of Sunshine, we decided to buy our own board. In the parking lot f the surf museum, coincidentally we met Bruce, a 40-ish, long gray haired, tan surfer who owns a local surf shop nearby. Now with our ‘connection’ in the surf community we were on the fast track to acquire everything we needed to transform from mere travelers into “Surfies”.  We chose a board that was 7’6″ long, based on a few factors; it was an easy length to learn on, catch waves, and most importantly it fit inside our Subie when we needed to lock it up. Surfing seems simple enough – just paddle out, catch a wave, stand up, ride the curl, and repeat…yeah, right! If you’re ever curious what it would feel like inside your washing machine on spin cycle, try surfing! Each attempt taught me something important, and when I paid attention I soon stood to surf more and got washed less.

"Sunshine" our purchased Subaru managed surprising 4x4 drives despite it's condition

A clunk, clunk, clunk noise emanating from Sunshine’s front end didn’t sound good. Undoubtedly a trip to a mechanic doesn’t bring about positive feelings. Luckily we were able to find someone to look at it right away. The good news – the noise was just a loose axle nut; the bad news – we needed new brakes and a ball joint. An hour and a couple of hundred Aussie dollars later we were rattling down the Great Ocean Road again in search of the perfect learner’s wave. The twisty road snaked down the coast for a couple hundred miles, offering beautiful views of beach – perfect for our search. Unfortunately strong on-shore winds flattened the waves so surfing wasn’t good. However, our search did produce plenty of “you should have been here yesterday or last week” stories.

Continuing west the beaches disappear far below as the sandstone cliffs rose higher. Erosion has sculpted the coastline into fantastic forms and after dozens of photo stops we became tired, settling for just slowing down for a quick look from the car. Heading inland we now passed through farmland, bush, and forest, and curious attractions – a giant banana and lobster sculpture big as a bus, cheese world, cow world, and sheep world – everything was designed to capture the driver’s attention quickly and most importantly their tourist dollars. However, our next stop was Adelaide.

Adelaide is a city designed with forethought; it’s completely surrounded by a nature park, has streets that are organized into easy to navigate grid patterns, and it’s center is designated as a pedestrian-only town square. By camping just outside Adelaide at a caravan park on the beach we could venture into the city to enjoy great dinners, the movie Castaway, Aboriginal art, and exceptional shopping, which Andrea craved (there were still no good waves for surfing). More temptations are just an hour or so outside Adelaide – here lies the Barossa Valley, one of Australia’s premier wine regions.. Andrea’s passion for wine tasting can only be rivaled by her lust for chocolate! With map in hand, we systematically sampled the fantastic wines and started building our collection to enjoy later at B.Y.O. restaurants, campsites, or on our Whitsunday sailing trip.

Now it was time to head back to the east, traveling inland towards the Murray Valley region for our first taste of small town, semi-outback rural Australia. Leaving the coast meant that surfing was temporarily put on hold, and seeing only waves of sand and dirt made me cranky until I reminded myself “I’m on holiday, snap out of it”!

The Snowy Mountains, made famous by the movie The Man from Snowy River, is Australia’s only Alpine region. We had received a hot tip on a great campsite nestled in the foreground of the mountains. Our guidebook said kangaroos frequented the grassy meadows near our camp…for once the guidebook was right. After almost a month in Australia we had yet to see a kangaroo (road-kill doesn’t count). In the morning Andrea headed to the bathroom and was surprised by large herds of kangaroos grazing in the nearby grassland. Rushing back to camp to grab her cameras, she hoped they hadn’t disappeared. For the next two hours Andrea had a ‘kangaroo experience’. She sat amongst them taking photos, smiling as they hopped around, watching the baby  ‘roos poke their shy heads into their mother’s pouches, and relaxing in the shade.  After breaking camp and loading the car I had to drag Andrea away from her new friends.

At our next stop we arrived in Sydney at a friend’s doorstep & grasped the opportunity to put our nomadic life on hold. Andrea, always happy to meet up with friends, had contacted Stefan Long (another high school classmate) and arranged for us to stay for a ‘few days’.   Stefan had just moved to Sydney with his girlfriend Michelle, and leased a flat in the hip Darlinghurst neighborhood. Since they had also been long time travelers they understood the importance of a place to call home and welcomed us in.  Settling down, we did a little sightseeing, but mostly spend our time relaxing and surfing. Our bad influence on Stefan didn’t help his job search since we convinced him to try surfing on Bondi and Manly beaches.

One of the reasons we timed our visit to Sydney at the end of February was to experience it’s famous Mardi Gras Parade. The city was overflowing with spectators and parade participants; though Sydney’s Mardi Gras is a celebration of the Gay & Lesbian community, the parade was a wild mix of just about everything imaginable.

Australia’s most famous landmark, Sydney’s Opera House is an absolute must see. Some people say it’s modeled after shells while others say its sails. Regardless of the design’s origins the building is spectacular. Last minute standing room tickets for a play in one of the satellite theaters is an inexpensive way to experience the nighttime ambiance.  We saw the final full run rehearsal of a Williamson comedy, “For the Love of Art”.  The play was a hilarious, well-written and acted jab about how low an art dealer would stoop to sell a painting. Two and a half-hours later, with tired feet, we exited the theater still laughing. Afterwards, with the lights reflecting across the harbor we people watched and enjoyed the view before walking home.

Couple enjoys view of Sydney's famous Opera House

Learning to play (or just trying) the didgeridoo is another quintessential Australia experience. Thousands of years ago Aborigines played a hollowed out wooden instrument by blowing through it, which allowed the sounds to reverberate inside and created a unique musical tone. Today this ancient instrument can be bought just about anywhere in Australia, and is one of the most popular tourist purchases (most end up collecting dust in a corner never to be played). Our hunt for an authentic, musical quality, traditionally decorated didgeridoo educated us about the nature and importance of the didgeridoo in the Aboriginal culture.

A true didgeridoo begins as a gum tree branch hollowed out by termites, and is then refined by hand into an instrument. They are used for ceremonies, story telling, song and dance. Aborigines say that extended play moves the inner spirit to another level (something only revealed to those who experience it’s magic). We enjoyed the sound and agreed that I should learn to play the one we eventually would purchase. Choosing a quality didgeridoo isn’t easy since very few actually produce true reverberating sound (which is difficult to determine when you can’t play one!). Usually the salespeople at the shops could play the didgeridoo, which allowed us to hear the instrument’s tone and reverberation. Our search ended in Sydney when we found ‘the one’ at a friendly shop in the Rocks district. Included with our purchase was a free two-hour lesson.

Saturday morning at 10 a.m., after a rainy 45-minute walk we arrived for our lesson. The first thing we had to learn was to not take ourselves too seriously – our instructor told us to just relax, laugh, and enjoy the learning experience. Most people make a sound somewhere between a foghorn and cow wailing on their first attempt. Getting the proper sound came quickly for me and I focused my efforts on producing different sound variations for the remainder of the class. The hardest part of the lesson was circular breathing. Trying to breathe out of my mouth while at the same time inhaling through my nose was no easy task. However if I learned this skill I would be able to play continuously without the breath hesitation or passing out due to lack of oxygen.  Two hours passed quickly, and I spent another couple hours practicing while getting more tips for improvement. The final encouragement from our instructor was to have a few beers and think like a child. He was right the beers did help!   With our didgeridoo sitting at home along with a couple of CD’s for musical reference, I look forward to practicing and the many beers I’ll need before my first concert.

After enjoying ten days at Stefan’s flat, we reluctantly left Sydney and began our drive north up the coast.  Our arrival at Byron Bay coincided with the area’s largest rainfall in 30 years. Eleven inches of rain fell in three hours. Our wipers couldn’t clear the water fast enough, and our subie’s defogger was useless in the extreme hot, humid weather.  At one point we saw cars floating down a side road next to our freeway!  Driving from Surfer’s Paradise to Brisbane normally takes an hour, but during this storm it took us four hours to drive this distance.  The waves at these popular surf destinations were mammoth – not even the professional surfers were crazy enough to attempt surfing.  Luckily for us, nearby was a different but equally adventurous diversion.

Steve Irwin, aka 'Crocodile Hunter'

Steve Irwin, aka the Croc Hunter , is world famous for his television show regularly broadcast on the Discovery channel, “The Crocodile Hunter”. His obsession with saving, capturing, and caring for these wild creatures is only surpassed by his exuberant energy.   We visited the Australian Zoo hopeful for a chance to see Steve in action. Good fortunes shined on us and the Croc Hunter appeared for the 1 p.m. crocodile feeding show. Our opportunity to see him was due to the fact that he was giving a V.I.P. tour to professional surfers in town for the quicksilver surfing competition.

Today’s show featured a fifteen-foot salt-water crocodile that Steve referred to as a “sneaky little devil”. With raw meat dangling from his hand, he readied himself for the ambush style assault commonly used by salties.  Under the murky brown water of it’s pond the crocodile was virtually invisible until it exploded from the water – a truly amazing spectacle. As the show ended and the group moved on, we grabbed the opportunity to blend into the V.I.P tour and tag along for more of the Croc Hunter ‘s wild demonstrations.   The zoo also housed dingos, kangaroos, wallabies, birds of prey, Australia’s most venomous snakes and largest pythons. After our zoo visit with the Croc Hunter I can definitely say that guy is exactly like he appears on T.V. – crazy as ever!

PHOTO:  Fraser island collage
Buried in sand up to the axles and racing to beat the incoming tide, we strained to quickly to pull our Subie free with the help of friendly Aussies. Fraser Island is the world’s largest sand island, and with its abundance of fresh, sand filtered water, the island has developed into a lush forest. Access to Fraser Island is 4WD only and many coastal routes can only be negotiated at low tide. Driving in soft sand takes practice – the car tends to sway from side to side and feels like it will get out of control at any moment. Slowing down usually wasn’t an option.

Fraser Island is criss-crossed with numerous inland tracks. We ventured inland to see McKenzie Lake and camp there for one night. Our getting stuck experience showed us that our main problem wasn’t traction but vehicle clearance. Larger 4WD created ruts in the sand and the best route was to stay in these ruts since the sand was compacted where other cars had driven. Unfortunately the ruts would get deep and our little Subie sometimes got stuck if we stayed in them. Driving creatively, sometimes riding on the high sides of the track, proved to be very successful. When we pulled into our campground we received some curious looks from people in much larger vehicles – I think they were amazed we had made it so far inland. The warm, crystal clear, fresh water of Lake McKenzie was a wonderful place to rinse off the sand and relax.

We awoke early and broke camp in order to arrive on the coast and travel down the island at low tide. Our previous day’s success was short lived. A skinny spot on the track forced us to stay in the rut and we were quickly buried up to the axle again. I grabbed our shovel (Andrea grabbed the camera) and dug us out – within 30 minutes we were on our way again.

We had to time our arrival to the barge pick up point so we could immediately drive onto the boat – if we stopped, the Subie would surely get stuck. As we approached the transfer point luckily the barge was waiting and lowered its ramp for us. Moments later we were sitting comfortably on its deck. Now I could finally relax – and we knew our car had passed the test to withstand the rigors of the outback, our next destination.



New Zealand

New Zealand: the ‘working stiff’ tour

We always hoped to meet up with friends during our travels, so we were happily surprised when Michelle Colling (a childhood friend) made plans to do so in New Zealand. Michelle only had time for a 10 day vacation to explore Kiwi culture, but her boundless energy & her traveling companion (a native New Zealander, Alan Tinsley) made an ambitious plan possible. They scheduled their trip beforehand, emailed us their itinerary, and we adjusted our plans so we would arrive in New Zealand in time to tag along in the back seat of their rental car to see New Zealand at 120 kilometers per hour.

Adjusting to an American ‘working stiff’ tour proved to be a more difficult than anticipated . . . we were always scurrying to keep up. Quickly zig-zagging from Auckland to Queenstown (similar to traveling from San Diego to Vancouver, B.C.), we packed in as many experiences as possible. The sudden transition from long term travelers to vacation mode made us realize how much we’d already changed our priorities. In addition, a tropical bug I caught in Fiji conspired to slow us down. Although we struggled with the schedule, we did enjoy not having to sort out the daily details and the instant upgrade to our travel style. Michelle & Alan were short on time but not cash; dining out, staying in Bed & Breakfasts, and nice lodges became our temporary new standard. The value of our U.S. dollar vs. the NZ dollar made splurging even more tempting (a B&B that was $100 NZ dollars cost us only $44 U.S. dollars).

Typical country road on the south island of New Zealand

The first night the four of us spent together saw lots of fireworks…we coincidentally happened to be in Christchurch on the eve of its 150th anniversary celebration. The cathedral square in the center of town lit up with a multimedia show that included a hodgepodge of live performances including Maori dancers, military helicopters, sheepherders, building rappelers, and a fireworks finale. The next day we drove over a scenic alpine pass stopping for a quick hike to the Franz Josef Glacier. Dale reluctantly traded his flip-flops for boots, which promptly gave him blisters (he hadn’t worn shoes for months).

Our day of driving from the east to the west coast of the south island ended in Hokatika, a tiny coastal town. The B&B hosts recommended dinner at Trappers, the nicest restaurant around, which served a wide variety of wild game food. Maybe we should have been concerned that we were the only diners in the restaurant (we had recently seen lots of road kill…)

Quintessential New Zealand, sheep & Mt Cook

Our next stop was the glacier area of New Zealand’s highest peak, Mt. Cook (12,300 feet). Upon arrival at the luxurious Heritage Lodge, we were surprised to get a free upgrade from a budget to mountain view room so we could be close to our friends. The bigger surprise was that everyone in the observation lounge had a perfect view into our room. Of the many adventurous activities around Mt. Cook, we spent half a day doing something educational: a glacier tour. A small boat brought us across a glacial lake for an up close view of the icebergs and Tasman Glacier. As we climbed on top of an expecially large iceberg our guide explained how it was formed

Aerial view of Franz Joseph Glacier, Mt. Cook

Our final destination while traveling with Michelle & Alan was a town similar to Hood River, Oregon – Queenstown, the adrenalin capital of the world. We only had a few days to sample the plethora of activities, so we vowed to return later when we’d have more time. The double espresso tour ended even quicker than it began, and we were sad to say goodbye to Michelle & Alan.

PHOTO: Xmas photo of us @ winery

Since we’d already blown our New Zealand budget, we decided to continue splurging during the holidays. A summertime Christmas was a unique experience for us. The radio stations still played I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas, but everyone’s mind was set on planning their holiday on New Zealand’s white sandy beaches. We were lucky to get last minute reservations at a great B&B in Wellington, New Zealand’s capital city. Our hosts were a former chef and restaurant owner who cooked a fabulous Christmas Eve dinner, Christmas breakfast and BBQ lunch later that day.

Photo: B&B owners

Stuffed, but staying with the Christmas tradition we met up with our traveling friend Jay and ate Christmas dinner with his ‘adopted’ Kiwi family. This feast ended with ‘Bombed Alaska’, an ice cream filled berry moraine-covered mountain they lit on fire. Although we missed our family and friends during the holidays, the warm Kiwi hospitality made our Christmas away from home special.

With the gluttony of the holiday season behind us, it was time for us to tighten our belts (ouch!) and find creative ways to recover from our budget blowout. Luckily New Zealand offers a plethora of innovative lodging options. One of our more memorable experiences was at Big Bird farm stay near the Waitomo caves. We stayed in a converted bunkhouse which included a kitchen, bathroom with claw foot tub, and enough room for about 15 people to sleep! Amazingly, we had the place to ourselves. Some farm stays require guests to help with the chores, but at ours we just tagged along with the owner, Ross, and ‘helped’ him feed the ostriches. As an added bonus, Ross took us on an informative nighttime bush walk to see glowworms. These fly larvae glow in the dark to attract their prey, creating a beautiful celestial effect against the black canyon walls.

Eroded arch of natural sea cave, Cave Beach, Waverley

Camping at holiday parks are a popular alternative to expensive motels. They usually provide great amenities -kitchens, outdoor BBQ areas, full bathrooms, laundry facilities, but have very small ‘camp sites’ clustered together with little privacy and lots of screaming kids. We soon discovered this is the most common way Kiwis families travel on their summer holidays between Dec 26 to Jan 26 – everyplace was crowded. A few of our camping highlights included being woken up by horses galloping by our tent at the ‘Racetrack Holiday Park’, and sleeping nearby thermal springs (similar to Yellowstone) and an early morning dip at a hot water beach. During low tide at hot water beach everyone searched for the best spot to dig a hole in the sand to create a natural thermal hot tub.

Boiling Thermal Waters of Champagne Pool, Waiotapu, Bay of Plenty, New Zealand

The best alternative budget travel accommodations is staying with ‘family’. Before we left the States, Dale had written a letter to Peter Bootsma who we thought was related on his mom’s Dutch side of the family. We received a prompt email response that Peter was not related but nevertheless invited us to come stay at his Auckland home. We spent two nights at his house and were treated like family with wonderful dinners and friendly conversation. With our budget back under control, we could now experience the excitement of those crazy Kiwi activities.

The Abel Tasman Trail


What began as a beautiful trek transformed into a grueling endeavor. Our plan was to take a two-hour jet boat tour to the end of the Abel Tasman trail and leisurely walk back to our car. The guidebook said this 22-mile trek included only 500 feet elevation change and could ‘reasonably’ be completed in 3-4 days. The description continued stating that the trek was well trodden and included a variety of terrain such as sandy beaches, estuary crossings, and smooth bush trails.
PHOTO: us with packs
We started our trek with smiles on our faces as we hopped from the boat at Mutton Cove, a peaceful beach five miles beyond the regular route. But our moods quickly changed as the boat driver handed us our packs, exclaiming, “Ugh! You’ll have shorter legs before you’re done, mate. This is the heaviest pack I’ve felt all year!”
With that cheerful comment we were left standing at the shoreline. After a few quick pictures we were off to our first campsite. Walking with heavy packs (30lbs and 50lbs) on soft sand quickly turned an easy passage into one hell of a workout; with just 500 yards behind us we were already panting in the heat. As the trek progressed we were rewarded both with stunning views and the unsettling realization that each scenic bay was sandwiched between steep mountain ridges. Six hours later we arrived at our first ‘beach’ campsite. Unfortunately it was located 50 yards into the bush infested with sand flies.
There’s a Maori legend about these pesky little critters: It’s believed that when the natives first arrived in New Zealand, life was too easy. Food and shelter was plentiful and the climate mild, so the Maoris became very lazy. This angered the chief, who wanted his people to be productive, so he asked the gods for an antidote. The gods answered the chief’s request by sending tiny biting sand flies, which quickly attack anything not moving. Today we had to laugh at the irony of our situation: We’d come so far to enjoy nature only to be imprisoned by it!
PHOTO: anchorage beach view
We awoke early (6 am) after a night of little sleep. The resident possums knew that most backpackers inadvertently provide food, thus they scrounged around our tent all night looking for forgotten morsels. The second day’s trek included two large estuaries, which could only be crossed two hours on either side of low tide (7:30 am). A treat after our first early morning crossing was a nice hot breakfast at the only lodge near the trail. By this time our sandals had given us blisters where the sand and water rubbed our feet raw. So we laced up our boots, reduced our weight by giving away non-essential food to the staff, and raced off to the second estuary crossing. After 6 more hours of continuous trudging we arrived at our second campsite to find that all the sites were full. Too exhausted to continue, we pitched our tent half on the trail and half into the downhill bushes. This night we slept soundly regardless of the location.
PHOTO: Cleopatra’s pool & dale
Day three began with a slow start to ease our aching feet. After breakfast we put on our packs and Dale affectionately named his “the beast”. Our highlight of the day was a rest at Cleopatra’s pool, our lunch stop. The distance to cover this day was shorter, and although the elevation change was only 500 feet, the trail seemed to constantly climb and descend. The easy way out of the hike – an expensive water taxi – was beginning to look more appealing. But, since we’d made it this far we decided to finish the hike by foot. Dale was like a pack mule rushing to the barn, suddenly finding energy as we approached our last night’s destination. This campsite was the most beautiful yet – a secluded beach with only three other tents. The tranquility was only broken by a Kiwi family on their water ski boat : We tried to buy a beer off them, but they thought we were joking and just laughed.
As daylight broke on our final morning, it began to lightly rain. We quickly munched our granola bars and slurped our mini fruit box drinks in order to pack the tent before the downpour. Wisely we had brought waterproof pants, jackets, and pack covers, all of which were necessary for our final three hours on the trail. That night we rewarded ourselves to a nice B&B with a hot tub to pamper our aching bodies. The hot tub had broken the day before, but a shower, bed, and rest after four days without was treat enough. It may seem that we didn’t enjoy any part of our Abel Tasman trek. At one of our more frustrating moments Dale commented, “Someday we’ll smile and laugh when we look back on this experience”. We did both as we wrote this story.

Adrenalin Activities
An incredible variety of crazy Kiwi sports and innovative package tours tempts even the most frugal of travelers. We did them all, draining our budget but thoroughly enjoying many experiences we couldn’t have found elsewhere. We’ve ranked our favorite activities below in order of increasing adrenaline rush:
1. Kayaking Milford Sound
An early morning kayak was a beautiful way to experience the Milford fiord. We were fortunate to see dolphins, seals, and rainbows. To give perspective on how large this area is, the boat in the background of the photo below was a huge cruise ship.
On our second day in Fiordland we were treated to a sunny, crisp morning, which is rare since Milford Sound is one of the wettest places on earth. The steep walls carved by glaciers thousands of years ago create their own weather patterns.
Nearby the Milford Sound we also walked to Key Summit Peak, the first hour of the Routeburn trail, to be rewarded with a clear view of a mountaintop tarn (pond) reflecting the Southern Alps. Kiwis are very proud of their hiking trails, and rightly so.

2, 3, 4: The triple combo: Shotover jet boat, white water rafting, & helicopter ride
Unfortunately, high winds cancelled the helicopter portion, so instead we took an adventurous bus ride through Skipper’s Canyon. This old miners road was so treacherous that rental cars were forbidden to travel on it, and a rafting bus went off the edge on the day of our trip. The shotover jet boat was a buzz. It came within inches of the canyon walls while traveling at 60 mph with it’s huge 400hp motor that needed only inches of water to maneuver. The 360-degree spins got everyone wet.
PHOTO: shotover boat

5. Dolphin Encounter
We’ve been lucky enough to be surprised by dolphins several times so far in our travels, but we’d never been able to spend time with them up close in the water. So when we learned that Dolphin Encounters brought small groups to swim with dolphins in their natural environment, we were excited to try this unique experience.
Since dusky dolphins inhabit the waters off the Kaikora coast year round, our guides were able to accurately predict the dolphin’s movements. Our boat approached a pod of about 100-150 dolphins & we witnessed their playful and acrobatic antics. However we found it was easier to see the dolphins above the water than below since the ocean was cold and murky, and with our snorkels and wetsuits we were clumsy in comparison to their quick, fluid movements. Apparently dolphins have bouts of activity depending upon their mood, and while they were curious to observe us they weren’t as playful when we were swimming nearby. Still, we preferred being with the dolphins in the wild with little disturbance to their natural activities vs. seeing trained dolphins in a swimming pool. As our boat returned to the harbor we also saw hector dolphins (the smallest and rarest of all species) and a blue shark swimming at the surface.
Dusky dolphins are often playful

6. Black Water Caving
We looked like rodeo clowns in our white rubber boots, purple shorts, 5 mil wetsuits, and goofy miner’s hats. But these costumes were necessary for our abseiling, spelunking, and tubing exploration. Instead of joining the busloads of tourists, we chose the adventurous way to experience the Waitomo glow worm caves. Our small group consisted of two guides and one other tourist, a middle-aged man named Colin, who also happened to be from Portland, OR.
Part I – Abseiling
We were instructed to dangle on a rope 100 feet above a cavern floor, and slowly lower ourselves through a narrow gap into the large cave. Colin was nervous, so before he had a chance to back out we offered to let him go first. As he stepped off the platform with an iron grip on his rope, we thought he was going to have a heart attack. Once our feet hit the limestone floor, we scrambled over rocks to do the ‘flying squirrel’. We now attached our harnesses to a pulley to hang feet first and zip along a cable deeper into the cave.
Part II – Tubing
After enjoying a peaceful lunch in total darkness to observe the glow worms illuminating the cave, it was time to jump into the frigid water. With our inner tubes around us we leapt from a ledge feet first and landed ten feet below, our splashes echoing off the cave walls. We continued to drift along this slow moving river gazing endless stretches of tiny flow worm lights flickering above.
Part III – Spelunking
We swam, crawled, and climbed our way through the rest of the cave passages. When we approached a waterfall we were surprised to be instructed to climb it by straddling the gushing water between our legs. Once again, Colin was on the verge of a heart attack. Four hours after we began, we emerged from the cave onto a forest trail, startling a couple of tourists who wondered where the rodeo clowns had come from.
PHOTO: collage abseiling, tubing, waterfall

7. Fly By Wire
Another innovative Kiwi invention is Fly By Wire. Our small craft dangled 300 feet above the canyon floor from an overhead wire. We piloted it at speeds of over 100mph, and could steer it in any direction including falling backwards. With the proper turns and speed we could get to vertical position before heading back across the canyon in a pendulum motion.- the rush of speed and views from the highest point were breathtaking.
PHOTO: fly by wire

8. River Surfing
This sport is white water kayaking meets body boarding. Dale had seen river surfing on T.V. during our many hours of watching the travel channel, and placed this activity at the top of his must do list. Although we ran only class III rapids, from our perspective the waves seemed quite large. We were exhausted after a 20 minute run – fortunately we were able to rest before we did it all again. The highlights included playing in whirlpools and squirting underneath the water PHOTO: river surfing collage

9. Tandem Bungee Jump
Here’s a case where a picture speaks 1,000 words. This bridge was 150 feet tall and in 1988 it the site of the first commercial bungee jump in the world. After three months of constant companionship we decided, “Why not jump together?” Strapped in at our ankles we leapt without hesitation.

10. Tandem Skydiving
The grand finale of our adrenalin activities took us to 12,000 feet for fantastic views of the Fox Glacier, combining a 20 minute Southern Alps sightseeing tour with a 45 second free fall tandem skydiving. Jumping with a big “Waahooo!” was the ultimate way to end our Kiwi adventures.
PHOTO: skydiving collage

Kiwi Reflections:
During our six weeks of driving throughout the North & South Islands of New Zealand, we spent our time in the car discussing many strange, funny, or just unique Kiwi tidbits:
1. Strange roads: As if driving on the left-hand side with all the car controls backwards wasn’t challenge enough. We drove 3,500 miles and saw many…
• One-lane bridges. Courtesy granted right of way. We don’t think this would work in America. To make it even more challenging some bridges had railroad tracks down their center & were located on a blind corner.
• Roundabouts. Better than 4 way stops. They’re simple – if a car is approaching your driver’s side door, you stop. Otherwise, go.
• Not a straight road in the entire country. A carsick passenger’s nightmare.
• Funny signs Photo: car with parachute
• Interesting road safety campaign. Many “DEAD” billboards such as “You’ll be DEAD a long time, what’s the hurry?” and “Is it DEAD clear to pass?”.
• Sheep provide entertainment if you’re bored driving – honking at them causes them to stampede.
2. Popular food. Contrary to their reputation, Kiwis enjoy more than just meat pies and lamb chops.
• Kiwis love beetroot. This is on everything unless you request it to be removed. We thought, “Why put something on your plate that turns everything purple?”
• Mmm…Tip Top ice cream. Per capita, Kiwis consume more ice cream than any other country.
• Savories – we still haven’t been able to get a straight answer as to what’s inside these pastries.
• Yummy wines and loads of wineries offering tastings.
• Lack of French influence (the French are very unpopular since they began nuclear testing in the South Pacific and bombed the Kiwi Rainbow Warrior anti-nuclear peace ship). We never found baguettes, crepes, or French wine. French fries are called ‘hot chips’ and French toast is called ‘egg bread’.
3. Sand fly bites itch more and last longer than mosquito bites.
4. Mail is still delivered everywhere by bicycle
5. Kiwis will lend a complete stranger their car.
6. Only 3 T.V. channels. One consists only of American re-runs.
7. Every Kiwi is an ambassador for his or her own country. They’re always excited to help visitors with friendly tips.
8. Fun phrases such as “Good as gold” (often shortened to “Good as”) and “Good on ya”.
9. The safer a community was, the more adrenaline activities provided
10. Possums: Pests turned to profit. Kiwiland is being over run by them, so Kiwis have begun a resourceful solution. Possum fur is now made into sweaters, foot & nipple warmers, and stuffed animals, which are commonly sold at tourist shops.

Fiji

Bula Fiji!

After Sixty hours of strenuous travel that began when we left Huahine in French Polynesia, we finally arrived in Fiji and it’s capital city of Nadi.   Now we had to think clearly and make arrangements for our three-week stay, though the lack of sleep sure made this challenging! We decided to visit two areas of Fiji. The first: Kadavu Island, well known for scuba diving and authentic village life. The second: Yasawa Islands, famous for its sunshine and beautiful beaches.

It’s a shame that people have been frightened away from Fiji because of its recent political coups. The Fijians are some of the most laid back, friendly, and hospitable people we’ve encountered in our travels, and the ‘unrest’ has had no effect for visitors other than to decrease tourism by 60% during the last year. It’s a budget travelers dream, visit now – get off the beaten track and you’ll find deals everywhere and space plentiful in your own private slice of paradise.

We were able to arrange an inexpensive flight to Kadavu just a few hours after we arrived in Fiji.  A scenic one-hour small plane flight that brought us to a small dirt landing strip; luckily, we had called ahead to arrange our transfer to Ono Island since it was a one-hour outboard boat ride to Jona’s Paradise – our home for the next eight days.

Locals commuting back home, Kandavu, Fiji

PHOTO:  jonas paradise crew

At Jona’s we quickly adjusted to the relaxed Fijian style and started getting to know the locals. Maggie, the resort manager, was quite the character. His flamboyant gay demeanor was very disarming; he would constantly have us laughing at his comments of affection towards other male members of the Fijian staff. The interesting thing was that no one took offence and often played up the teasing from Maggie. It was hard to not smile when seeing a Fijian dressed in a colorful flowered sulu & matching shirt wearing lipstick!

Philippe, our scuba dive master, who dove over 3500 times in Fiji and knew the surrounding reefs better than anyone. Our dives included spectacular sunlit canyons, abundant fish, sharks, large sea snakes, and beautiful soft corals. Jona, owner of our resort, is known as the best fisherman in Kadavu & provided fresh fish for our lunches and dinners (we discovered the other resorts in Fiji were not eating fish due to the difficulty of catching them during the rainy season). Fresh fish combined with garden fresh vegetables, fruit, home-baked bread and Fiji Bitter Beer helped us stay fed and happy.

Local fisherman often provided our dinners

After a couple of nights of rain, Lindua (Jona’s wife) insisted that we move into one of the bures (thatched hut). The price wasn’t in our budget but refusal of her offer would have been an insult, so a comfy bed with mosquito netting was a nice change from our steamy tent. Best of all, Lindua didn’t charge us a higher rate.

Most evenings we sat on grass mats with villagers and drank kava – a Fijian institution. Beginning as early as 3pm we heard the familiar thump of kava roots being pounded into powder. Kava looks and tastes like muddy water – even the Fijians sometimes make sour faces while drinking a bowl. So why drink kava? It’s a cheap and plentiful mild sedative that numbs your mouth and insures a good night sleep. More importantly, kava brings you together with the Fijians for formal ceremonies and casual social scenes (like going the neighborhood pub).

PHOTO: Fijians drinking kava

During our eight days in Kadavu, we became familiar figures in many different villages and we were always greeted with a heart-felt “Bula”! Numerous other Fijians made us feel welcome and our temporary adopted family included us in their daily life of church, school concerts, village visits, and the local ‘store’.

We had the fortunate opportunity to join our Fijian hosts at the village school Christmas concert. 88 kids sang, danced, and performed skits, which the locals found very entertaining. It was interesting to spend a day in a Fijian village and we learned just how friendly Fijian kids were by taking their photo. As soon as our camera came out of the case, the kids came out of the woodwork – it only took 30 seconds for a mob scene of about 50 kids to develop.

As we motored away from the island to the airport, the heavy rain and choppy seas couldn’t wash away the smiles from our faces while the entire staff waved goodbye. Many of the prominent island locals thanked us for coming to Fiji and for our genuine interest in their culture. Small things like that is what we remember and miss most of all. Jona’s Paradise was exactly what the name says.

Fijian school children

We chose to spend our last two weeks in Fiji in the beautiful Yasawas, the island group where we spent our honeymoon. We flew on the Turtle Airways seaplane and hoped for a chance to stop off at Turtle Island (we thought it would be great to show our faces and worry the staff that the over-active Americans had returned for a second honeymoon). Unfortunately, we found that it would have been easier to get inside Buckingham Palace than to set foot on this exclusive resort. The ultimate torture for us was that from where we stayed on a neighboring island, we could see and almost swim to Turtle Island.

Our first stop, David’s Place, was a big let down compared to Jona’s Paradise. The resort was in need of a face-lift and beach clean up. However our bure was nice and located on the beach with cool breezes, so we decided to stay for a few days and dive with the local scuba dive operation. We quickly discovered that the dive shop, Westside Divers (Westside@is.com.fi), was top notch; new equipment, beautiful fast boats, great service, and small dive groups (averaging 4 people).

One day after diving, we dropped off a diver at a nearby white sandy beach on a new resort (opened Sept 8, 2000). The guys at the dive shop guys told us that this resort was called Oarsman Bay Lodge and was associated with Turtle Island. With a quick radio call and some fast arrangements, we reserved a spot at Oarsmans Bay Lodge.  We arrived to a tradtional Fijian greeting on the beach (singing the same song we heard arriving at Turtle Island five years ago) & we smiled about our luck of stumbling across this wonderful place. Our bure was perfect – airy, tons of windows with fine mosquito mesh screens, and our own bathroom with hot water showers – oh what luxury!

Yasawas means ‘the sunny islands’, so we were expecting clear blue skies and starlit nights…instead we got “rain, rain, rain!”. No matter, we had a great time with the Fijians. When the sun did appear we made the most of it. I floated on the turquoise waters while Dale tried surfing on the free kayaks provided. The Fijians were very entertained by Dale’s attempts to surf – he received constant ‘encouragement’ from the shore along with laughter when he crashed. Small sailboats were also available, so we tried our hand at navigating the craft in moderate winds. After watching us take a few laps across the lagoon one of the Fijians decided to go for a ride with Dale.  After only a few minutes of sailing across the lagoon the Fijian suddenly jumped out of the boat and swam to shore (maybe Dale’s sailing skills weren’t quite perfected yet).

On full moon large, sharp-clawed crabs ran across the sandy lounge area of the resort to deposit their eggs in the ocean.  Even though they aggressively defend themselves Dale caught several which the Fijians cooked up for a tasty treat. Our last day we bushwhacked our way up the highest peak on our island, which overlooked Oarsman’s Bay Lodge & the surrounding Yasawa Islands.

PHOTO:  top of island

After enjoying three fun, relaxing weeks in Fiji, sadly it was time to leave. Mode, vinaka vaka Levu (goodbye and thank you very much) Fiji, we’ll be back!