tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68655586546801966502024-03-13T14:06:46.247-07:00Written Down UnderGrant Owens' trip report from Australia in 2007.grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.comBlogger30125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-61009972480399566542007-11-19T13:00:00.000-08:002008-12-08T20:08:20.202-08:00Introduction<p class="MsoNormal">Friends,<br />I hope you find this as enjoyable to read as I found it to write. I didn’t take many notes while I was on the trip, but the dynamic nature of <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Australia</st1:country-region></st1:place> made it terribly easy to relive the events from memories and photos. </p><span style="font-style: italic;">BTW... I'm posting these in chronological order. Read top-to-bottom and ignore the blogger posted dates. This covers our travel from Oct 15 - Nov 7, 2007.</span><br /><br />Peace.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fLTeTfwlltE/R1Y81AARuoI/AAAAAAAABII/UlQMLSInU40/s1600-h/Australia_2007_Map.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fLTeTfwlltE/R1Y81AARuoI/AAAAAAAABII/UlQMLSInU40/s320/Australia_2007_Map.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140362905921895042" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Our Trip Trail<br /><br /></span></div>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-19951801370364897812007-11-19T12:58:00.000-08:002007-12-10T16:15:42.788-08:00Hoboken to San Francisco: 31 Flavors at 2AMOn a caffeine bender we stayed awake all night in a futile attempt to shift our body clocks. This was one the night when the 24hr Baskin Robins below our place made so much sense.<br /><br /><strong></strong>We finally left <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Hoboken</st1:city></st1:place> at 5:45AM and took off in a Delta capsule from JFK at 8:25AM and landed at SFO just before noon. With an all-day layover we finagled a rental car for the day and drove to <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Napa</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Valley</st1:placetype></st1:place>. Although she hides it well, Amy is a bit of a wino.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045826797/"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2123/2045826797_ae21afff85_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Tasting at Pine Ridge Winery</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I have no interest in wine so for me this was simply killing time surrounded by a more humane landscape than the airport terminal. My humble highlight of the day was a heavenly tostada at a dive Mexican joint called Rancho Grande outside the town of <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Napa</st1:place></st1:city>. Good refried beans are an art of immense complexity. Wines, on the other hand, are all blurred by sameness. Which reminds me, I need to re-up my sub to Frijoles Spectator.<br /><br /></div></div>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-31180430997161629192007-11-19T12:56:00.000-08:002008-08-25T06:49:18.550-07:00San Francisco to Sydney: Free PJs!<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"></span>Herein lays the beauty of using hard-earned frequent flyer miles for first class tickets. We were able to shower and snack on cheeses, assorted cracker thingies and gummy bears in the British Airways lounge. British Airways opens their SFO lounge to Qantas passengers – how perfectly magnanimous of the Brits to share with their compatriots. <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Australia</st1:place></st1:country-region> remains, after all, a Commonwealth under the Queen. I for one had my own little Golden Jubilee, consisting of finger foods and baseball on TV in recognition of the monarchy.<o:p></o:p> </div><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>We took-off from SFO on Qantas flight 74 at 10:40PM in a mall-sized double decker Boeing 747-400.</p><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046620572/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2308/2046620572_8e65d0f5dc_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Legroom with a view</span><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Starting in the BA lounge and carrying onto the plane we struck up a conversation with a kind Aussie, Carol Sproats. Carol seemed to know everyone in the country and spoke of places like they were her babies. I’ve still got to Google her and see if she is the Deputy Prime Minister or something of the like. After a full hour of scribbling in a notebook at the beginning of the flight she handed me an 8 page list of tips for each of our destinations in <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Australia</st1:place></st1:country-region>. Unbelievably nice. You’ll see in future episodes how we took advantage of her insights. Maybe she is the head of National Park Service? Minister of Tourism? In any case we happened across a human Frommers.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>With a full-length bed, Qantas pajamas and belly full of dinner I watched a documentary on the Space Race and then dropped like a brick for 7 hours. When we woke up they were serving breakfast and we were less than 2 hours from <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Sydney</st1:place></st1:city>. The flight took about 13 hours, yet felt much shorter. Granted, I probably wouldn’t be saying that if we had been sitting in coach where a flight attendant felt compelled to violently jam a scoop into ice right next to my ear every 10 minutes. But trust me, sleeping flat is the bee knees!</p>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-25755054311308087702007-11-19T12:54:00.000-08:002007-12-09T12:44:47.238-08:00Touchdown in Australia: Where’s our underwhere?<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">We arrived in </span><st1:city style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" st="on"><st1:place st="on">Sydney</st1:place></st1:city><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> at about 6:30 AM. It was no sweat going through customs but we weren’t out of the woods yet. Our bags were marked to our final destination, </span><st1:city style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" st="on">Darwin</st1:city><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">, but we were told we would have to claim our bags and take them through customs since </span><st1:city style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" st="on"><st1:place st="on">Sydney</st1:place></st1:city><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> was the first Australian port of call. Except no bags matching ours appeared from the depths. The Qantas agent told us they were likely going to be a day late because </span><st1:country-region style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" st="on">US</st1:country-region><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> baggage handlers often get the date change confused with US to </span><st1:country-region style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" st="on"><st1:place st="on">Australia</st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> travelers. The agent took our lodging info for </span><st1:city style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" st="on"><st1:place st="on">Darwin</st1:place></st1:city><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">, handed us a bag of toiletries, Qantas t-shirts and a $400 stipend for clothes to tide us over.</span><o:p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></o:p> <p class="MsoNormal">We sulked over to the Qantas lounge to get some snacks and shower. We then decided that we would go into <st1:city st="on">Sydney</st1:city> before our flight to <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Darwin</st1:city></st1:place> to get some essentials and clothes.</p><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045831739/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2385/2045831739_ac0617f6f1_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Sydney's Central Station</span><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>We took the subway to Central Station to look for clothes. This was our first indication of how expensive <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Australia</st1:place></st1:country-region> would be. We were in a major shopping mall and couldn’t simply find t-shirts under $35 AUD (equivalent to about $30 USD). I looked at the best cost barometer in the clothing category I could find, a Lacoste polo. I think the Lacoste polo should be used like the McDonalds hamburger for worldly cost comparisons. A simple polo shirt was astonishingly $145 AUD. Two or three years ago when the USD was much stronger this price might have made sense. My dear new Australian friends… if by chance you really love Lacoste polos, might I suggest you travel to the <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">US</st1:place></st1:country-region> and go hog wild. At full retail you would only shell out $60 USD for this simple commodity.<span style=""> </span>Even in pink.</p><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046624742/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2124/2046624742_9411a83ec6_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Emergency apparel. Orange should do.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045830899/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2146/2045830899_85e1c73535_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Graffiti in Surry Hills</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046621838/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2066/2046621838_c223ae2a1a_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Is saying the "Down Under" subway redundant?<br /></span></div><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>The moral of the story… our US dollar is seriously hurting. Travelling to anywhere in the EU or <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Australia</st1:country-region></st1:place> is financially draining.</p><p class="MsoNormal">After procuring underwear and socks we made our way back to the airport for our flight to Darwin. A relatively short 3.5hr flight meant going from temperatures in the low 60’s in Sydney to low 90’s in Darwin.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045833889/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2344/2045833889_b998dc03d0_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Quattro Qantas</span><br /></p>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-13326044189847333742007-11-19T12:52:00.000-08:002007-12-09T12:47:52.491-08:00Darwin, Northern Territory, AustraliaServing as an indication of the quirkiness that surrounds nearly all things in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Darwin</st1:place></st1:city>, the local time had moved up another 30 minutes. <st1:city st="on">Darwin</st1:city> doesn’t sit in a full one hour time zone, it has adopted the half hour plan – a noticeable difference that sums up <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Darwin</st1:place></st1:city>’s entire personality. Think of it this way… for every question someone might ask about life in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Darwin</st1:place></st1:city> I would probably provide the same answer each time… “it’s a little off.” The weather, the food, things to do… all a little off.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046626592/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2068/2046626592_db9d714787_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Sunset at Mindil Beach</span><o:p></o:p> </div><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>After sleeping in until <del>10:00</del> 10:30, we went to brunch at non-descript diner called Café Roma. They had a single ancient bottle of <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Tabasco</st1:place></st1:state> stashed away for me to use. There is no need to comment on the quality of the food – to me it was 100% hot pepper flavored. Yum.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>After brunch we stepped out into the sweltering heat to hunt down a couple more items we would need before leaving on a safari the next morning. We after arriving in Darwin learned that our bags would arrive in town two days later, by which time we would be in the Outback on safari and unreachable. So we were effectively without luggage for 5 days.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">I bought two more t-shirts, both of which represented Australian Rules Football teams I had never heard of. I then carried the extra stress of thinking something like this might unfold...<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Random Aussie:</span> "Hey you a Geelong Cats fan too?"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me: </span>"Uhh... yeah, they're the best!"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Random Aussie:</span> "Actually mate, they are the worst team in the division"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span> "Yeah, tough year"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Random Aussie:</span> "You think they oughta can coach Hamilton?"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Me:</span> "uhhh... yeah... Can Him... hey... how bout them Redsox? uhhh... I... I should go."<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Random Aussie:</span> "whatever mate. See you at the games!"</p><p class="MsoNormal">Of course no safari would be complete without a classic Aussie Outback hat. Amy opted for straw and I opted for suede. We looked quite fetching if I do say so myself. We also picked up flashlights, long pants, and sunscreen.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s hard to describe the density of the heat and humidity in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Darwin</st1:place></st1:city> that first day. As I have said many times under similar circumstances, I was sweating like a whore in church. We went back to the hotel to enjoy a swim and some cold beer.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Late in the afternoon we grabbed a cab and went <st1:city st="on">to Darwin</st1:city>’s very popular <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Mindil</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Beach</st1:placetype></st1:place> sunset market. This market reminded me on any old <st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on">US street</st1:address></st1:street> fair where earth-loving folks had schlepped their crafts to the beach and set up a tent.</p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045834307/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2381/2045834307_271ae46716_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Mindil Beach Sunset Market</span></div><p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There was a wide variety of food and artsy trinkets, that for some supernatural reason make you consider redecorating an entire room of your home into a Polynesian/Aboriginal theme. We kept our wits about us and decided against that.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The only real difference in this market compared to a <st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on">Sixth Ave</st1:address></st1:street>nue street market <st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on"></st1:address></st1:street>on a Sunday in NYC is that this was literally the only thing going on in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Darwin</st1:place></st1:city> at the time. So you basically had two camps - the locals socializing and the tourists daring each other to eat dried emu jerky.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Although I paid $10 for a runny roti wrap, the sunset at the beach was worth every penny. We left after about an hour for the nights main event. Deckchair Cinema.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>We read about <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Darwin</st1:place></st1:city>’s Deckchair Cinema online before leaving the states. This little local nuance is a permanently established movie-in the-park type of thing. The seating however, was less like deckchairs, and more like 25-person hammocks supported by plumbing pipes. Fun.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046627220/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2350/2046627220_a9ec3bb972_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Deckchair Cinema proudly presents Air Guitar Nation</span><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>The cinema is run by a local non-profit and they primarily show independent films and super played out classics. So don’t try finding Men in Black XII here on opening weekend. With that said we did pay $13 for tickets. The snack bar served beers so we grabbed two and sat down for Air Guitar Nation – just as quirky as the cinema itself. Perfect.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Sleepy time.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045835785/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2322/2045835785_a70ea300e5_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Building facade in Darwin</span></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046627586/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2206/2046627586_a6c2ae2b84_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Industrial pier in Darwin</span></p>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-34428886821828194472007-11-19T12:50:00.000-08:002007-12-09T12:52:03.827-08:00Top End Safari : Free Coffee for Drivers<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">The safari caravan pulled in front of the hotel shortly after 7AM. We met our guide, John Grant and a few other campers who had already boarded. After picking up 4-5 more we headed south on the </span><st1:street style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" st="on"><st1:address st="on">Arnhem Highway</st1:address></st1:street><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">.</span><o:p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"></o:p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"></o:p><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">If someone you meet claims to have traveled through </span><st1:country-region style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" st="on"><st1:place st="on">Australia</st1:place></st1:country-region> but can’t recall seeing termite mounds, then you are being conned. Here is our requisite photo.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045670117/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2382/2045670117_8d2ac88d37_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Termighty</span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">These things are literally everywhere you look and come in all shapes and sizes - the largest of which are decades in the making. Given the negative connotations that come with termites in the States, it’s quite a paradox that we found it beautiful how the mounds stuck out of the deep blue horizon. Amazingly, we never actually saw a single termite but the mounds clearly let you know who secretly rules the ecosystem down under. Crocs and roos are just tolerated companions in Termitetown.<b style=""><o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><o:p></o:p></b>The other thing you’ll see on main roads are signs stating “Free Coffee for Drivers.” This is just plain smart. <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Australia</st1:place></st1:country-region> has life-sentence-length roads that dictate long hours of driving without reprieve. Safety first.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045650235/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2059/2045650235_0f6b1972d9_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">It was this or cocaine. Of course the gov picked the lowest bidder :(</span><br /></p>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-13955558914536361422007-11-19T12:48:00.000-08:002007-12-25T18:14:59.072-08:00Billabong Cruise<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045659017/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2087/2045659017_724d6ea30f_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Shopping cart for crocs<br /><br /></span></span></div><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">A bona fide croc cruise was our first stop on the safari. </span><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><o:p> </o:p></b>Ted, our leathery guide, had some hard and fast opinions. He was a self-proclaimed man of the bush and assured in the ways of mother earth. We found him entertaining and a willing banter participant. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>I felt bad for Ted because everything he said was totally lost on half of the boat. Our Dutch and German friends had very limited experience with English. As proof, Ted had just finished a spirited safety briefing culminating in one final life saving point – Don’t Stand Up in the Boat. Over the next five minutes, as the boat idled in water teeming with 500 pound man-eating crocs, each Dutch and German stood up in successive order as Ted rolled his eyes and through a one-sided smile conveyed the idea of “screw it, this is just survival of the fittest and English speaking.”</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046449690/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2305/2046449690_20a156db06_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Awwwe look-at-ahh... she's a beeuueauty</span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">When it comes to crocodiles Ted was a bit of a preacher. He had a 5 minute rant on the late Steve Irwin. Although some of what he said made sense I got the impression it was fueled by jealously. His main issue was the environment that Irwin placed crocs into. Crocs have no internal temperature control and according to Ted, if their bodies are much below 86 degrees or much above 89 degrees, they will slowly die. Ted says that Irwin would simply take crocs into arenas in southern Australia where the low temperatures would basically put them into a vegetative state. He said that Irwin would approach large crocs will full knowledge that they could not attack him – the crocs didn’t have enough energy. He felt that Irwin would never want the audience to know that because tickets sales to shows would plummet. Although much of this is probably true, it was deeply disturbing to hear him lambast a dead guy. And in my in my personal opinion, although Steve Irwin probably embellished the experience for his shows, he most certainly did more good for the future of crocs and the rest Australia’s environment by garnering massive global awareness.</p><p class="MsoNormal">We did see a number of crocs on the cruise, but as you might imagine, they are pretty sneaky and I'd see a pair of eyes on the surface and then try to get Amy's attention and the eyes would have disappeared. I can only imagine how unnerving that would be if you had tried to do your own two person cruise in a small wooden boat.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">As we would comment throughout our trip, the variety and size of the birds on the trip was amazing. While on the croc cruise I kept waiting for the birds on the bank of the river to go under with one big gulp of a croc. It never happened, but we learned that it does happen. Basically, the birds get complacent after a longtime without a croc attack. They begin to gallivant around the bank without keeping an eye out for danger. Then SMACK! Stupid birdbrains.</p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045654273/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2280/2045654273_71d886f757_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Heron? Crane? I'm not much of a birder.</span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045655351/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2383/2045655351_22d672a4fa_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style=""> <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Shade tree perch<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045656019/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2290/2045656019_42adc6a0ce_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Ted</span><br /><span style=""><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046447854/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2068/2046447854_93851fa292_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=""><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Pink Lotus<br /><br /><br /></span></span></div>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-15767333901729916692007-11-19T12:46:00.000-08:002007-12-09T13:01:22.217-08:00Ubirr: A Lifesize Game of PictionaryUbirr, in <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Kakadu</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">National Park</st1:placetype></st1:place>, is a fascinating stop because of its large collection of Aboriginal art on striking rock formations jutting out of the surrounding flood plain.<o:p></o:p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>We arrived on a terribly hot day, but the large rock formations helped cool the situation off. The rocks provided overhangs with plenty of shade to hide under and when we climbed high onto the formations a brisk breeze battered the top of them.</p><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045662451/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2372/2045662451_2c091ba4ee_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Peering at the Gallery<br /></span></div><p class="MsoNormal">We hiked back into the bush a few hundred yards and came to an area known as the “main gallery” where the largest amount of artwork can be viewed. The artwork is very understated and tells simple stories - often just a singular event or a singular life form. I personally liked these drawings because they were not cryptic or abstract. The Aborigines drew clear depictions of Aboriginal life and environments. Some drawings are ridiculously old and others are quite young. For example, there are elements that depict the arrival and first contact with Caucasians – events that are less than a few hundred years old. Other drawings of animals at Ubirr are estimated to be 2,000-3,000 years old. I read after our trip that carbon tests have shown some Aboriginal paintings in <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Australia</st1:place></st1:country-region> may be 20,000+ years old</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046460396/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2266/2046460396_830dcbca27_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">They took some liberties regarding proportions<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">I also really liked the signs of human ingenuity still visible on the surrounding rocks. You can clearly see the dimples on flat surfaces where the Aboriginals would grind and prepare the paints to be used on the walls above. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Drawings near the top of large overhangs survived extremely well and it just makes me wonder how many must have been lost on less protected rock walls or protected places that lost their overhangs over thousands of years. I’m personally convinced that we are only seeing a tiny fraction of the stories captured by the Aboriginals and I only wish we could see more of what happened at the dawn of human experience.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>We an the hour or so climbing the rock formations to take in the amazing panoramic view of the flood plain. Every once in a while we would barley notice an object darting around far below. Then nothing. Then a glimpse again. Until finally we had our eyes trained on an area long enough to see that the movements were Kangaroos jumping through the tall grass.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>After leaving Ubirr, we cruised in the van about 45 to camp at Cooinda. The camp site was large and offered tent sites and little cabins. Our tour operator, Connections Safaris, had about 10 permanent tents and a large mess tent where we ate as a group and drank until we became outback experts and veteran bushman. John, our guide, cooked up fish, veggies, and rice.</p><p class="MsoNormal">sunny day + big dinner + beer<span style="font-family:Arial;">³</span> = sleepy<span style="font-family:Arial;">²</span></p> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045667275/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2008/2045667275_ff34b5bcce_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Taking in the flood plain<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046458390/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2081/2046458390_2f0b4632a0_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Natural staircase<br /></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046454690/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2252/2046454690_2ec9f67632_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Paint Holes<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046454270/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2252/2046454270_99c580714a_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Fish</span><br /></div>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-57130843280500735572007-11-19T12:44:00.000-08:002007-12-09T13:06:05.848-08:00The Dharma Initiative Tours Australia<div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;"></span>So our new French friend, Lin, climbs into the caravan sporting a conspicuous logo and I immediately say to Amy, “That’s the Dharma logo.” She disagrees, but I was positive I had seen it before.<br /><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046441564/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2166/2046441564_45a2c9639f_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Where are 'they' taking us?</span><o:p></o:p></div><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Now it’s important to understand that Lin’s English and my French are rather broken, but I couldn’t pass up the chance to ask him about it and see if he was a Lost fanboy too.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>So I point to his t-shirt and ask, “Is that from Lost?” It didn’t register so I ask for a little translation help from the bi-lingual Isabelle. Lin says that he doesn’t know what I’m talking about and that it means nothing to him. “It is just a t-shirt.” Or so he says.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Over the next five minutes I try to get anyone else in the van to agree it looks familiar. Nobody agrees and I felt completely deflated and wished I had an internet connection to show them that Lin is a spy and should not be trusted.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>What if I was traveling with one of “the others?” It was everything I could do to not sneak into his tent and search for needles, vials, strange videos and the like. Lin, if you are reading this… I’m just kidding… I would never do anything to get Dharma on my bad side.</p><p class="MsoNormal">It’s very important that you enter the numbers.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Namaste,<br />-g</p>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-9504968177136214082007-11-19T12:42:00.000-08:002007-12-09T16:43:55.224-08:00Edith FallsWhile travelling through <st1:placename st="on">Nitmiluk</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">National Park</st1:placetype>, on our way toward the town of <st1:city st="on">Katherine</st1:city>, we visited <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Edith</st1:placename> <st1:placename st="on">Falls</st1:placename></st1:place>. <p class="MsoNormal">Amy affectionately calls <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Edith</st1:placename> <st1:placename st="on">Falls</st1:placename></st1:place>, Heaven. I tend to agree. The pictures we took don’t really capture the beauty of this multi-level waterfall. We parked at the base and hiked about 20 minutes rigorously uphill. This hike took us to an amazing elevated pool of water under the upper part of waterfall. The water was warm and the setting reminded me of what it looks like when a billionaire tries to create a natural-looking rock fall and pool behind their massive home. Imagine a backyard pool like you’ve seen on an episode of MTV Cribs and then multiply the size by 10 and force of the waterfall by 50. Just seven of us made the hike and we had the place to ourselves.</p><p class="MsoNormal">If you find yourself in the Northern Territory of Australia this is a can’t miss.</p> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046464152/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2185/2046464152_198069c779_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">The Upper Falls</span><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045673073/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2017/2045673073_0014aaf82b_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">John Grant</span><br /><br /></span></span></div>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-75902651035436780262007-11-19T12:40:00.000-08:002007-12-17T16:19:55.840-08:00Children of the CornAfter a life-affirming swim in <st1:placename st="on">Edith</st1:placename> <st1:placename st="on">Falls</st1:placename> we cruised into the town of <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Katherine</st1:place></st1:city> to pick up some supplies (read: beer and wine). After shopping we made our way out of Katherine to the Springvale Homestead camp. Making a left onto the long driveway we spotted a couple wallabies. We pulled back into the campsite and could see wallabies scattered throughout the area and bounding away as the van approached.<o:p></o:p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Everyone went to get things settled in their tents and then slowly reconvened around the wine, beer and cheese in the mess tent. Near the grill, John was locked in a heated battle with some chicken, kangaroo meat and barbecue sauce.</p><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046466482/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2088/2046466482_6757f002c4_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Dining in the Outback</span><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>After dinner we sat by the fire and did what you do by fires in the Outback… talked. Periodically we were startled by a flying fox (aka massive bat) in the tree above. Another long day meant heavy eyelids so we made our way to the tent for what turned out to be a long night. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m guessing that about two hours into sleep I heard the first thug outside. A little ruffling of the sticks and leaves on the ground followed by a few minutes of silence. Then more ruffling.<span style=""> </span>This went on all night but I was able to get some sleep. Finally the sun burst above the horizon and I turn my head to peak through the mesh wall of the tent. Not even a foot from my nose there was a Wallaby staring right at me. Then another one 10 feet behind him. Probably putting the other up to a dare.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>“Psst, take his camera. I dare you. Grab her knickers…. panty raid!”<o:p></o:p><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Dude..shhh… you are going to get me killed.”<o:p></o:p><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Actually the wallaby looked as startled to find that I was awake as I was to find his bristly snout sniffing me through the tent mesh. He scampered away but I did capture a picture of the one that put him up to it a little further away.</p><p class="MsoNormal">All is well though - the camera was where I left it with no surprise photos of wallaby butt and the Dean of Students eventually made all of the wallabies return everyone’s panties.<span style=""><br /></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2300/2045675513_c1b237c4c7_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2300/2045675513_c1b237c4c7_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">The darer<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046467892/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2007/2046467892_d802893475_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Suspected accomplice</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046466740/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2348/2046466740_cf661894b8_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Fireside chat</span></span><br /><br /></div>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-22674849599227910002007-11-19T12:38:00.000-08:002007-12-10T15:53:32.006-08:00Katherine River GorgeWe arrived at the entrance to Katherine Gorge, also known by the aboriginal name Nitmiluk, bright and early – too early for my taste. We boarded a large aluminum flat bottomed boat. Even though it was still a young morning the heat was nearly unbearable.<o:p></o:p><br /><p class="MsoNormal">The boat silently slumbered up the gorge and the guide told stories and pointed out nuances of the surrounding rocks and wildlife. As with nearly all water in the top half of <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Australia</st1:place></st1:country-region>, the gorge was hiding a numbers of crocs. However, the area is involved in a trapping program to keep out the larger saltwater crocs to protect the smaller freshwater crocs. So the croc danger was more of the limb-removing kind and not so much the whole-body gobble. Ehemm… much safer.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045684257/%22"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2170/2045684257_895e772ded_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Small kayaker. Big gorge.</span></div><p class="MsoNormal"><br />After a bit of cruising we pulled up to a rock platform and the guide encouraged those interested to walk up the rock bank and check out the surrounding rock art high on the sheer walls.</p><p class="MsoNormal">The guide explained how terribly low the water level was in the gorge. Many of the trees and rock formations spend half of the year under water – the amphibious trees are easy to spot because they are permanently bent from the river current. Even the ticket booth itself, would be entirely under water during the wet season. Seeing the gorges and the Kakaku flood plains during the dry season, made us want to see the inverse season. You can tell from the remnants of the wet season that it becomes a completely different landscape. Numerous depth markers show the impending deluge. Many of the roads become impassable and water levels in areas like the gorge can change 60-70 feet. Upon arriving in the Northern Territory we pondered why so many of the trucks had snorkels high above the doors, but now it was clear that they could be put to good use.</p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045682181/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2233/2045682181_e25fe32625_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Class is in session</span></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046472076/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2229/2046472076_72d4da0afa_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">River bend<br /><br /></span></div>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-12331306164818627102007-11-19T12:36:00.000-08:002007-12-09T17:38:41.097-08:00World Solar ChallengeWe had the ridiculous fortune on the last leg of our safari to be on the exact route of the World Solar Challenge, an annual solar car race from <st1:city st="on">Darwin</st1:city> to <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Adelaide</st1:place></st1:city>. I have seen multiple documentaries and reports of this race and have always been amazed by the designs and ingenuity of the solar car teams.<o:p></o:p><br /><p class="MsoNormal">We were even luckier to be heading the opposite direction of the actual race – meaning that we seemed to pass a different race team heading south every 5-10 minutes. Most cars were surrounded by a number of chase cars carrying supplies and no doubt a host of laptop toting megageeks (aka my idols). Most solar cars didn’t appear to going more than 30-40 MPH on a road that is quite desolate and routinely allows Australians to “open her up a little.” I’m doubly glad were heading in the opposite direction because being stuck behind a team would have been super great for 2-3 minutes and then extremely frustrating for the next 2-3 hours.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="hhttp://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046479906/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2146/2046479906_1d59795b69_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">The aliens are cruising around Oz</span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">After passing 10-12 teams our guide, John was terribly kind and let us stop to visit with the UniSA (i.e. University of South Australia) team as they were on a routine maintenance stop recharging their TREV electric vehicle. They were racing in the Greenfleet class of vehicles which allows fuel efficient non-solar vehicles to take part. TREV stands for “two-seater renewable energy vehicle.” We learned that while on the road the TREV was being recharged by a diesel generator, but in normal circumstances the car would be recharged by household electricity and cost less than $1 per 100km.</p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="hhttp://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045651913/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2203/2045651913_b6e55eeb92_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">TREV</span></p><span style=""></span>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-71424495781856536622007-11-19T12:34:00.000-08:002007-12-10T15:57:39.717-08:00Port Douglass: Leftist TendenciesOur flight from <st1:city st="on">Darwin</st1:city> landed in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Cairns</st1:place></st1:city> and made our way to the tiny temporary-under-construction-pardon-our-dust baggage claim as I tried to prepare my mind for driving on the left side of the road. I played it out in my head like a video game.<o:p></o:p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Isabelle, our new favorite Frenchwoman, was standing next to the Hertz counter contemplating renting a car or snagging a cab. We were headed her way and solved her decision by offering to give a lift.<o:p></o:p> Sweet Lincoln’s mullet! Now my left-side skills were going to be responsible for the health and safety of someone not legally family nor emotionally bound til’ death do us part- I was certainly hoping it wouldn’t come to the later for the three of us. Toyota Camry’s are five star safety rated right? Right? No, left? Shit!<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>I hadn’t gone 14 feet before I announced to the greater <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Queensland</st1:place></st1:state> area that I was an outsider by flipping the wipers into action instead of the turn single. I did this approximately 37 additional times on our trip. If brushing flies from your face is the Royal Australian wave, then accidental windshield wipers are most definitely the Royal American wave. Countless times we each walked to the car and entered the wrong side. In one case I went so far as to think someone had thieved our pedals because when I sat down and extended my legs my feet stabbed at thin air and the seat was disturbingly reclined.</p><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046630504/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2203/2046630504_7a262a777b_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Right or wrong?</span><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>In all reality the left-side thing caused nary a problem the rest of our trip. It felt perfectly natural within 10 miles and I never had an once of nervousness beyond the airport parking lot (excluding nervousness over inconspicuously stalking crocs the size of single-engine Cessnas).</p><p class="MsoNormal">After dropping the French contingent at a B&B near Holloways Beach we cruised 30 more minutes north along an amazing, yet common, ocean-side highway. Stopping periodically to take in the vistas. There are literally thousands of these circumventing the Red Center and I’m not sure you can pick a bad one. Imagine taking the most beautiful single mile of coastal highway in California and then wrapping an entire continent with it. Copy, Paste, Copy, Paste. (Ctrl C, Ctrl V… for you PC users). That is the view when driving on the edges of Australia. And to make it even more interesting, the grade of the land sloping out into the ocean is so low that that each time the tide changes these vistas become stunningly different. You can go from water colliding with lava rocks at lunch to sheer salt flats as far as the eye can see at dinner in the same exact location.</p><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046630712/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2316/2046630712_dacca102a1_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">From the road</span><br /></div>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-75121460666341680202007-11-19T12:32:00.000-08:002007-12-09T18:23:51.924-08:00Port Douglass Wildlife SanctuaryWe fell into town around 10:30AM and needed something to do while they readied our room at the Sheraton Mirage Resort. With a few hours to spare we decided to back track just a couple of miles from the resort to a wildlife park we had driven by on the way. It looked small and not at all grand but perfectly sleepy enough to help us spend 2 hours without getting lost in a new area and never finding our way back to the long sought after resort swimming pools.<p class="MsoNormal">What an amazing surprise. This turned out to be the little sanctuary that could. The guide, Peter, was awesome, the life unbelievably vibrant and diverse, and we kinda had the place to ourselves. I’ll let the photos tell the story. </p><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045838939/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2074/2045838939_af5e6737e3_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">No clue what type of bird this is<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046634892/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2274/2046634892_bff6093f0a_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">I tried to tell him to apply sunscreen<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045839363/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2274/2045839363_edaea3590a_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">I spy...<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045846625/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2324/2045846625_6ada3f21f1_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Koala kuddling<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045844513/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2359/2045844513_cfa5d6a8f8_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Roos eating<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046635772/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2216/2046635772_74c4123d17_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Talk to the hand...</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045844715/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2196/2045844715_b148ff6498_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">This wallaroo is part of the </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">BALCO</span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"> investigation<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045845271/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2335/2045845271_c253be3212_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Slightly more colorful than our NYC pigeons<br /><br /></span></div>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-62811908284815244352007-11-19T12:30:00.000-08:002007-12-09T18:30:28.162-08:00Cane Toad RacesThe Iron Bar watering hole in the center of Port Douglass holds a nightly event called Cane Toad Racing. Regularly smart folks and zoologists know that the title is an oxymoron. The race, of course, is less of a competition and more the butt of a very long and entertaining joke told by the MC [the local yocal donning a yellow hat as shown in figure A].<span style=""> </span>It was just the keen type of white trash antics that I love. Nothing sensible goes on during this wagering event, yet each piece of the ritual feels fitting after three beers – maybe five for you hearty blokes.<p class="MsoNormal">Each patron throws in $5 and pulls a number. If your number is selected from the bucket you are the proud owner of a racing cane toad. Amy and I were down on our lottery luck and sadly just observers for the epic tilt.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045855795/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2031/2045855795_100efb702a_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=""> </span></p> <div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Figure A: Local Yocal<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046651316/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2106/2046651316_2a583a0353_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Bet = $5. Beer = $5. Racing toads = Priceless<br /><br /></span></div>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-53673867073027387352007-11-19T12:28:00.000-08:002007-12-10T11:43:14.178-08:00High TeaAlthough high tea was a sophisticated tradition completely lost on me, I made it my new favourite (that superfluous ‘u’ is in honour of the fine British tea ingenuity).<o:p></o:p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>As triple elite double glossy metallic Starwood Preferred Members we enjoyed free high tea. Or shall we call it, high fructose.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>In lieu of offering a business club with free newspapers and mixed nuts, the Mirage served Platinum Starwood guests high tea from 3-5 in the afternoon. Destroying any semblance of the original English tradition we would walk into the lounge each day with flips flops and sunglasses like two kids celebrating the noise of an ice cream truck sneaking through the neighborhood, and for good reason. The big secret about high tea that no proper Brit would divulge is that high tea has very little to do with tea. It’s all about the sweets. The tea is just an excuse to inhale sugar and refined flour goodness. Oh, and there were some finger sandwiches that I carefully ignored.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Adding to the spectacle, they delivered the treats in one of those three plate towers – the afternoon tower of power. Could there be anything better than high tea to break the monotony of in lying in the sun? I think not.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2045847289/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2264/2045847289_5f043ca50f_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Sheraton Mirage Resort</span></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"></span><br /></p><script src="http://www.google-analytics.com/urchin.js" type="text/javascript"><br /></script><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br />_uacct = "UA-2399949-2";<br />urchinTracker();<br /></script>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-58783358317125936252007-11-19T12:26:00.000-08:002007-12-09T19:20:13.773-08:00Cape Tribulation & Daintree RainforestWe saddled up the Camry around 9:00AM at the hotel and took off to the north. Our drive into the Daintree region took about 90 minutes and included a car ferry across the <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Daintree</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">River</st1:placetype></st1:place>. The landscape became noticeably greener the further we drove.<span style=""><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><o:p></o:p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2151/2046641832_a350bd23ff_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2151/2046641832_a350bd23ff_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Mouth of the Daintree River as a backdrop</span><br /></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">The road hugging the coast is tight and winding but the traffic is thin and slow – most people were enjoying the scenery like us. We stopped at a couple pullovers, but eventually made our way to a driveway leading to the <st1:place st="on"><st1:placetype st="on">Cape</st1:placetype> <st1:placename st="on">Tribulation</st1:placename></st1:place> beach. We parked the car and walked over to some commotion in the woods behind us. It was a Cassowary. This bird was massive. We stood at the edge of the brush and took a couple photos from about 25 feet away.</p><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2099/2045850811_db0897c05d_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2099/2045850811_db0897c05d_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Cassowary through the trees</span><br /></div> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><o:p></o:p>We walked back past the car on the way to the beach and saw the most unnerving sign.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>And I quote:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p><b style="">CAUTION<o:p></o:p></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><i style="">A large cassowary may be present in this area. Naturally cassowaries are shy and reclusive animals however this animal has been approaching people. Any such bold behavior creates a potentially dangerous situation to people and the cassowary. <o:p></o:p></i></b><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p><b style=""><i style="">Under no circumstances should you approach any cassowary, keep your distance and do not run. If the cassowary approaches you, back away while making loud noises (clap, yell).<o:p></o:p></i></b><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>And a search of Wikipedia delivered this little gem after we returned. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>“The 2004 edition of the Guinness World Records lists the cassowary as the world's most dangerous bird. Normally cassowaries are very shy but when disturbed can lash out dangerously with their powerful legs. During World War II American and Australian troops stationed in <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">New Guinea</st1:place></st1:country-region> were warned to steer clear of the birds. They are capable of inflicting fatal injuries to an adult human. Usually, attacks are the result of provocation. Wounded or cornered birds are particularly dangerous. Cassowaries, deftly using their surroundings to conceal their movements, have been known to out-flank organized groups of human predators. Cassowaries are considered to be one of the most dangerous animals to keep in zoos, based on the frequency and severity of injuries incurred by zookeepers.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>A cassowary's three-toed feet have sharp claws; the dagger-like middle claw is 120 mm (5 inches) long. This claw is particularly dangerous since the Cassowary can use it to kill an enemy, disemboweling it with a single kick. They can run up to 50 km/h (32 mph) through the dense forest.”</p><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046642108/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2171/2046642108_5595c979c2_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Passing a cassowary on the road was the least of our worries</span><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal">I also found numerous accounts of things going wrong around cassowaries. </p> <p style="margin-left: 0.5in;"><b style="">I</b>n April of 1995, Doon McColl was jogging along this trail, when she heard a noise behind her. She turned to see a full size adult cassowary running after her, so she ran like hell and then climbed a tree. The big bird waited below for hours later until it finally wandered off. A week later her boyfriend, Ray Willetts, was also chased. He tried to lose the bird in the jungle and spent the day crashing through thorns and lawyer cane while the huge bird followed effortlessly. </p> <p style="margin-left: 0.5in;"><b style="">I</b> recall listening to a local Cairns radio station where a bloke rang up to tell his cassowary adventure and when the DJ started making a joke out of it the man on the phone became agitated and said; look mate, it was not f#&#ing funny, I never been so scared in all my life!</p> <p style="margin-left: 0.5in;"><b style="">O</b>ne day in 2003 several men were training as guides for Mason's guided walks in <st1:place st="on"><st1:placetype st="on">Cape</st1:placetype> <st1:placename st="on">Tribulation</st1:placename></st1:place> when they encountered a cassowary on one of the trails in the rainforest. Rather than to go behind a tree they chose to run and if there's anything a cassowary regards good fun it is chasing people so they ran for miles with the big bird in pursuit. The national parks ranger in Cape Tribulation gets 'cassowary attack' reports from time to time from the tourists but all that has usually happened is that they were chased for some distance, if the bird doesn't catch up with you that means he is not trying to, as they can easily run three times as fast as people.</p> <p style="margin-left: 0.5in;"><b style="">T</b>wo cassowaries with two chicks often hangout on the beach and around the picnic area at Cape Tribulation beach and this has resulted several times in encounters of the bird kind. One of the crew members of Rum Runner reef trips was chased around the picnic area for some time, doing circles around trees, even his football dodging techniques did not help, and he finally ran in to the sea to escape the territorial cassowary that would not give up.</p> <p style="margin-left: 0.5in;"><b style="">W</b>hilst picking mangosteens, I was standing under the trees looking up - Buttons my dog was sitting beside me. I heard this hissing noise beside me and jumped behind the mangosteen tree to get out of the way of whatever was behind me. It was an adult cassowary and we happened to be between her and her two chicks about 4 metres away. In the flash of a second, the adult bird literally took a huge jump and landed on the sitting dog. Her foot caught Buttons side and with my cries of "run Buttons, run....." we both scrambled along the row of trees and away from the very agitated cassowary. The chicks never seemed disturbed by the event and went on grazing along the fruit tree rows. Buttons went to the Mossman Vet for stitches (12) and I went to pay the bill of $260. This adult cassowary has successfully raised many chicks that we know of and from now on our dogs will stay close to the house and not accompany us to the orchard.</p> <p style="margin-left: 0.5in;"><b style="">A</b> couple was on the way down from <st1:place st="on"><st1:placetype st="on">Mount</st1:placetype> <st1:placename st="on">Sorrow</st1:placename></st1:place> when they were chased by a large cassowary. When all attempts to shake off the bird or to stand their ground failed they laid down in the mud and played dead. This calmed the bird, that had been hissing and breathing heavily before. Unfortunately the bird then sat down next to them and kept them prisoner, every time they made the slightest move the cassowary would get up and make threatening moves again. After about 40 minutes of being kept prisoner two other hikers came past on the track and the cassowary got up and went after them, and the lucky couple got up and rapidly made their way down the hill and back to their cabin at Rainforest Hideaway.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Anyway. It was unknowingly a near-death experience and we are survivors. Amy and I now appreciate every second that we are alive.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>The beach a <st1:place st="on"><st1:placetype st="on">Cape</st1:placetype> <st1:placename st="on">Tribulation</st1:placename></st1:place> is perfectly serene. Like other beaches in Far North Queensland, the ghost crabs get to work on the beach a couple of hours after the tide rolls out and put the beach through an amazing visual transformation in about an hour.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>To eat they scoop up sand with their lightning fast claws, extract the nutrients out of the sand and leave behind millions of little balls of clean sand in a design best described as organized chaos.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>The little dudes are ridiculously hard to see. To a casual observer the beach appears to transform magically with no tangible influence from crabs or anything else. The trick is that the crabs will disappear into their unbelievably deep holes when any other creature is within a football field of their workmanship. Of course I’m much too persistent to let this shifty escape mechanism thwart my scientific accomplishments. I learned that if you camp silently in on area for 5-6 minutes they will become unconcerned and reappear from the depths. You must remain perfectly still; even a big eye blink will send them scurrying back down.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Eventually I was surrounded by dozens of quarter-sized crabs gobbling sand and tossing pea-sized balls behind them. My only disappointment was that I had convinced myself that when they come up they get into a good flurry of activity by singing the chorus of<span style=""> </span>Memphis Bleek’s <span style=""> </span>“We Ballin.” </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><i style="">~~ We ballin. Ready for war, pass the weed and hennessy, I hear it callin ~~<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><span style="">Here are some photos…</span></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2046645134/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2098/2046645134_57a5a842d2_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">These shorties are ballers</span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2368/2046642952_d99210a88e_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2368/2046642952_d99210a88e_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Jellyfish dissolve your hips? OMG!</span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2156/2046643292_88b5133384_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2156/2046643292_88b5133384_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Cape Trib<br /><br /></span></div>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-91740678359192306412007-11-19T12:24:00.000-08:002007-12-10T16:09:26.244-08:007 Days on the Great Barrier Reef<p class="MsoNormal">This could easily overwhelm the trip report. So here you will get the abridged version. Those who aren’t afraid to get prune hands can read the details here: <i style=""><a href="http://waterproofjournal.blogspot.com/">waterproofjournal.blogspot.com</a><o:p></o:p></i><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>The original impetus for our trip to <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Australia</st1:place></st1:country-region> was a seven-day live-aboard dive trip with Mike Ball Expeditions on the Spoilsport. We signed up for the dive portion of the trip 18 months in advance and had thought about it every day since. Our dive shop in NJ, Treasure Cove Divers, organized the diving and we planned to meet up with a few familiar faces on the boat.<o:p></o:p>We embarked in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Cairns</st1:place></st1:city> so we left Port Douglass in mid afternoon to meet up with the other divers and boat crew. After dinner near the port in <st1:city st="on">Cairns</st1:city> the crew loaded the boat and we stepped aboard for the best experience <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Australia</st1:country-region></st1:place> has to offer.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p><span style="">After some introductions and briefings in the saloon deck we made our way down to our cabins to sleep while the skipper, Larry, led us out to sea. <a href="http://writtendownunder.blogspot.com/2007/11/diving-day-one-giant-clams-are-uhhh.html">Diving Day One>>></a><br /></span></p>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-33694897025476038832007-11-19T12:22:00.000-08:002007-12-09T23:23:01.604-08:00Diving Day One: Giant Clams are… uhhh… GiantWe woke up far out in the ocean after a slightly bumpy night of travel. We stammered up stairs to the saloon and began, what would become, our daily ritual. A light breakfast, a dive briefing and then underwater by 8AM. After the first dive we would have warm breakfast then head back under.<b style=""><o:p></o:p></b> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><o:p></o:p></b>Our first dive on a site called <st1:placename st="on">Challenger</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Bay</st1:placetype> was a good first exposure to our dive week on the <st1:place st="on">Great Barrier Reef</st1:place>. It seemed like a decent cross section of marine life and you couldn’t really go much past 60 feet deep. We were greeted by schools of jacks under the boat. The coral heads were broad and healthy.</p> <object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=410880&server=www.vimeo.com&fullscreen=1&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=01AAEA" height="266" width="400"> <param name="quality" value="best"> <param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"> <param name="scale" value="showAll"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=410880&server=www.vimeo.com&fullscreen=1&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=01AAEA"></object><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Here is a quick compilation of our diving</span><br /></div><a href="http://www.vimeo.com/410880/l:embed_410880"><br /></a> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>We visited <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Challenger</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Bay</st1:placetype></st1:place> twice during the week – the second time on the return trip south. This first dive produced great visibility and then on the way back the visibility was gone.<b style=""><o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><o:p></o:p></b>The next dive site, <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Pixie</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Gardens</st1:placetype></st1:place>, was an astonishingly beautiful part of the reef. Looking back on the trip I’m surprised <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Pixie</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Gardens</st1:placetype></st1:place> does not get the same level of fanfare afforded Cod Hole and the Osprey Reef sites.<span style=""> </span>Of course the sea conditions have a lot of influence over the perceived quality of a dive site – the day we dropped in on <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Pixie</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Gardens</st1:placetype></st1:place> it was nearly perfect visibility and no decipherable current.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>The coral columns were massive and exceptionally healthy. The giant clams really stood out here. They were meganormous - cartoonish in size – like seeing one of those big chair photo booths at a carnival. It was the type of thing that plays with your head a little.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>We also saw the first of many lionfish. Lionfish steal the pomp and circumstance award underwater. They splay long spikes and are decorated with deeply contrasting stripes. They are quite inactive and don’t bother fleeing when larger fish are nearby. Lionfish carry a strong venom in their spikes that keeps them amply protected. Fortunately they don’t enjoy attacking divers. If I were to reincarnate as a fish I might prefer to be a lionfish.</p><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2231/2049570722_9ad18901db_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2231/2049570722_9ad18901db_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Juvenile Lionfish</span><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><o:p></o:p>We ended the day by diving at <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Pixie</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Gardens</st1:placetype></st1:place> on a night dive. As it is with all night dives the reef was transformed into a completely different place. It’s like swapping the setting on a large Broadway stage. It’s hard to even recognize the reef as the same location. We saw our first cuddle fish and as many little shrimp as there are people in NYC.</p><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2093/2049576384_792a81f7f0_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2093/2049576384_792a81f7f0_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Dive brief time</span><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2362/2049557164_bf645aeb07_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2362/2049557164_bf645aeb07_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Giant clam<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2210/2049565670_a374da8aea_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2210/2049565670_a374da8aea_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Amy above a giant clam<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2048790509/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2053/2048790509_2eb14931bc_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Sunset on the reef</span></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;"></span><br /></p>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-87238481393152385002007-11-19T12:20:00.000-08:002007-12-26T18:32:01.391-08:00Diving Day Two: A Large Place with Large AnimalsA wake up knock and some eye rubbing and we were once again in the deep blue. The morning dives were at False Entrance and Admiralty Anchor. The latter was appropriately named for an ancient anchor lodged deep into a coral tunnel.<o:p></o:p><br /><p class="MsoNormal">During the night Skip ferried us north in the <st1:place st="on">Coral Sea</st1:place> to Osprey Reef. At this point I believe we were about 16-18 hours away from the mainland of <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Australia</st1:place></st1:country-region>. So this is certainly not the type of diving you could get on a day trip. In fact, while we were in a dive shop in Port Douglass the shop owner commented how badly she wanted to dive Osprey Reef. The irony is that if you have a dive shop to run and only have access to day boats, you’d never make it out this far. We felt extremely fortunate to be there.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Within minutes of descending onto False Entrance we saw two white tip reef sharks resting on the bottom. Then another. And another.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>The coral heads were split by a large sand channel that dropped off onto an enormous wall. I was a little startled to see that we were down at 115 feet and there was still this massive wall well below us.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2048773655/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2090/2048773655_f035cf261c_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">White tip cruising the wall</span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Diving offers an amazing freedom of weightlessness and sometimes there is very little natural indication of depth and speed of the current. Any diver, even the most careful, will tell you that they have at some point looked at their dive computer with a slight bit of shock. We are very vigilant divers, but every once in a while we’ll enjoy the environment so much that we’ll have to course correct. I personally find that after about 45 feet my body doesn’t feel much affect from the changes in water pressure. So I could go from 50 feet to 150 feet and not notice unless I looked at my computer or had some natural structure for a frame of reference. I’ve now established a sort of an internal clock that keeps me checking my dive computer periodically.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>After ascending to 50-60 feet we enjoy the density of marine life for a while and made our way back to the boat.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>At Admiralty Anchor we dropped in and encountered a stronger current. The coral heads were tall and immense. We dove this site twice and on the second dive we entered the swim through to find the “anchor.” We also some more white tips and a lionfish.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Later in the afternoon we dove at a site called North Horn which I will talk about in detail later.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p><span style="">After a couple days of diving I found myself struck by the size of the reefs and how you could be on the edge of a reef and its jade green color would sprawl out toward horizon as far as the eye could see. Just magnificent.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2048791161/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2405/2048791161_11cccd9d62_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Overlooking the reef</span></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2093/2048789955_2df3cec1bc_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2093/2048789955_2df3cec1bc_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Amy engaged in our daily ear-drying ritual</span></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="hhttp://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2049551546/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2067/2049551546_5763999e48_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Sweetlips</span></div><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2049555950/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2396/2049555950_0732cc15f1_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">The aforementioned anchor</span></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;"></span><br /></p>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-17507951383573606942007-11-19T12:18:00.000-08:002008-01-01T15:52:39.438-08:00Diving Day Three: The Super Bowl of DivingWe started the day on a drift dive at Round the Horn. The inflatable tenders shuttled us out in groups of 4-6 and dropped us off to descend and drift back home with the current. This dive site was highly anticipated because it is a popular place to stake out and look for manta rays.<o:p></o:p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>The current runs south to north along the coral wall at a pretty good clip so we took the tenders out about a kilometer and jumped in for the ride. After traveling about half the distance of the wall there is a ridge that hangs out looking into the deep blue and is often a spot where mantas will glide by. We descended to about 85-90 ft and camped on the ridge peering out. On the first dive the ridge was littered with barracuda, but no mantas. On our second dive we hung out on the ridge again trying to stay put in the very powerful current. We were getting close to our no-decompression limits so we slowly began swimming back to the main wall. Within just a few minutes a massive manta appeared underneath us making a similar track toward the wall about 50ft below. The video will not do this justice because you cannot get a true sense of the size, but these are enormous and graceful animals that seem utterly dreamlike. Rather than swimming, they appear to fly calmly through the water in slow motion. The sight of a 12ft manta ray gliding in the current perfectly illustrates the word “peace."<o:p></o:p><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">The first massive manta passed and then turned into the deep just as a second manta arrived. I was lucky enough to get video of both.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p><a style="left: 0px ! important; top: 0px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-07864085022821976 visible ontop" href="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=400042&server=www.vimeo.com&fullscreen=1&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=01AAEA"></a><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=400042&server=www.vimeo.com&fullscreen=1&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=01AAEA" height="266" width="400"><br /></object></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Watching mantas beats the shit out of network TV</span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">In the afternoon we returned to North Horn for a full on shark feed. North Horn culminates in a perfect amphitheater with a coral head in the center. Our group arranged themselves like students in a semicircle lecture hall and then the dive crew brought the chum down on a rope for the feast. I’m a little typed-out right now and the video tells the story better than I could. Enjoy…</p><br /><a style="left: 0px ! important; top: 15px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-07864085022821976 visible ontop" href="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=399258&server=www.vimeo.com&fullscreen=1&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=01AAEA"></a><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=399258&server=www.vimeo.com&fullscreen=1&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=01AAEA" height="300" width="400"> <param name="quality" value="best"> <param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"> <param name="scale" value="showAll"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=399258&server=www.vimeo.com&fullscreen=1&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=01AAEA"></object><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Kinda like a trip to Sizzler</span><br /><br /></div><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2049558616/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2297/2049558616_f96b2de6ea_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">The Spoilsport from afar</span></p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2332/2049577360_067f7671d1_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2332/2049577360_067f7671d1_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Donna spotting dive bubbles</p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2219/2048773477_38100d855b_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2219/2048773477_38100d855b_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Dave engaged in Zodiac trade</span><br /></p>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-82407805264505704192007-11-19T12:16:00.000-08:002008-04-25T21:05:47.631-07:00Great Barrier Reef: SharksHaving been asked dozens of times whether or not we saw sharks, and if so, were we scared, I felt compelled to create a post and video that was dedicated our shark sightings over the six days of diving.<o:p></o:p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Some of you may just prefer to jump right to the video. It quickly answers whether or not we saw any sharks. And the videos I captured are just a small fragment of all the shark encounters. By the second or third day of diving we stopped counting and didn’t even bother point to one another when a shark appeared out of the blue.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2048774605/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2147/2048774605_54e6acea94_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Amy and something that could eat Amy. </span><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Most of the sharks we saw were in the 4’-5’ range with the occasional grey shark in the 6’-8’ range. The grey sharks also have a much more hulking stature.<o:p></o:p>The question of whether or not we were ever scared is an easy one. I was never scared, but I was vigilant. I think this feeling formed on other dives, but became perfectly clear on this trip. Just by watching the sharks swim and stalk around the reef you can sense the physical power they are keeping in reserve. And you come to realize that if they really wanted to snack on you they could, easily. As a diver with maneuverability equivalent to a minivan in a Formula 1 race, there is very little you could do thwart an attack. They can come take a bite anytime they please. Therefore, a dozen or so encounters make you realize that they have no inherent interest in divers. So no, I didn’t feel any fear.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>With that said, the power that you sense in them makes you very conscious not to provoke them by accident. Any marine animal small or large will protect itself if threatened. Although you might not think twice about getting close to a small lobster, when you are near a shark the risk calculator in your head calmly repeats, “it ain’t worth it homie.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>The most surprising experience we had was on a night dive. We were just poking along the coral wall shining ours light in little nooks. The lights give you a fairly small field of view. In an instant two shiny green eyes flew underneath us at an alarming rate. We shone a light in the direction it was heading and realized it was a shark on the hunt. I will say that this was a bit unsettling. But still zero interest in us. And very cool to see it going out for dinner!</p><p class="MsoNormal">In one case a white tip shark swam up behind me and overtook me on right. For a moment I swam as quickly as I could to take a video of him as he a passed <i style="">[see it at the 3:00 min mark of the shark compilation video below].</i> Despite pumping my legs as hard as possible, I couldn’t stay close – and he was just gliding at the equivalent of a slow crawl. These are performance machines in the water - well honed competitors. I think you just have to respect that. We certainly did.</p> <object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=412197&server=www.vimeo.com&fullscreen=1&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=01AAEA" height="300" width="400"> <param name="quality" value="best"> <param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"> <param name="scale" value="showAll"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=412197&server=www.vimeo.com&fullscreen=1&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=01AAEA"></object><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Fins to the left. Fins to the right. </span><br /></div><a href="http://www.vimeo.com/412197/l:embed_412197"><br /></a>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-10458631917597957472007-11-19T12:14:00.000-08:002007-12-19T13:17:40.718-08:00Diving Day Four: Cod HoleThis dive site is justifiably considered one of the world’s best. We descended on Cod Hole three times in one day. In the late morning and early afternoon we used the tenders to go out on a drift dive past the North wall and the third time we descended the boat’s tag and mooring lines into the “hole” part of the dive site.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2048791475/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2237/2048791475_9df6b19e68_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><o:p></o:p><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">The tender buzzing to and fro</span><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal"><br />Cod Hole introduces you to, as you might expect, cod. Big cod. Cod with presence. Cod built like sofas. Cod with five gallon mouths.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Of the drift dives we floated along a coral wall for 15 minutes or so and then ended up in the hole part of Cod Hole. It’s a great diving spot because of the size of life, the clear water and white sand bottom that acts as great canvas for the colorful fish.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>The giant potato cod hang out in the hole and remained parked like bouncers at an exclusive nightclub. They don’t seem to mind us tiny divers flailing around them in amazement. We did however hear stories of ignorant pushy divers who had actually managed to get their heads stuck in the cod’s mouth. We heard this event rarely ended in death, but I have to imagine that their pride was hurt as much as anything. How to you go back home and explain the ring of teeth marks around your neck? A shark attack might be recounted with astonishment and pride from surviving, but a fat lazy cod swallowing a diver is, in my opinion, embarrassingly funny.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2049567078/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2155/2049567078_80ee131558_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> </p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"> Amy next to potato cod<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2049578020/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2400/2049578020_24912ab82e_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Skip Larry in the bridge<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/grants_fotos/2048768505/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2390/2048768505_3ddb5981ca_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Cuttlefish at night</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span></div>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865558654680196650.post-14594249893524072362007-11-19T12:12:00.000-08:002008-01-01T21:24:19.658-08:00Diving Day Five: Sweatin’ the Small Stuff<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;"></span>During the night we moved south and ended up at Fan Belt and Pixie Wall adjacent to Pixie Gardens which we had dropped onto a few days prior. The visibility had decreased dramatically and the only type of diving that made any sense was what I like to call “nook and cranny” diving. You basically stay within a few feet of the coral and investigate small creatures like nudibranchs, Christmas tree worms, and the heads of moray eels poking out.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2091/2048776173_f54cce1b60_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2091/2048776173_f54cce1b60_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Christmas Tree Worms</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2129/2048787717_d7790f72f1_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2129/2048787717_d7790f72f1_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;">Nudibranch on my glove: Chromodoris elizabethina</span><br /></div><br />Midday we dove on a site called Lighthouse Bommie. Bommie is a decidedly Aussie term used to describe an isolated coral reef head. In this case it was a bommie with a shape resembling a lighthouse. It also reminded me of the column of Marcus Aurelius in Rome. The coral decorated the structure much like the like stone carvings wrapping a Roman column.<br /><br />Lighthouse Bommie was mobbed by marine life including lionfish, worms of all sorts and even a sea snake – yet another deadly animal fully prepared to remind us that a comprehensive life insurance policy is a shrewd part of any financial plan.<br /><br />With all that however, we will likely remember Lighthouse Bommie for the two sea turtles lounging on it. Starting from the bottom of the and slowly spiraling up, we came across the turtles hanging on a small shelf about halfway to the surface – maybe 45 feet under water. We had seen numerous sea turtles on other dive trips, but these two had a demeanor that was truly friendly and any diver can tell you that a sea turtle’s massive eyes peering at you captures the imagination like nothing else in the ocean. I know it was all Amy could do to keep herself from hugging them and inviting them to our place for New Year’s.<br /><br /><a style="left: 0px ! important; top: 0px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-07864085022821976 visible ontop" href="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=412269&server=www.vimeo.com&fullscreen=1&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=01AAEA"></a><a style="left: 0px ! important; top: 0px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-07864085022821976 visible ontop" href="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=412269&server=www.vimeo.com&fullscreen=1&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=01AAEA"></a><a style="left: 0px ! important; top: 0px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-07864085022821976 visible ontop" href="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=412269&server=www.vimeo.com&fullscreen=1&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=01AAEA"></a><a style="left: 0px ! important; top: 0px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-07864085022821976 visible ontop" href="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=412269&server=www.vimeo.com&fullscreen=1&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=01AAEA"></a><a style="left: 0px ! important; top: 0px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-07864085022821976 visible ontop" href="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=412269&server=www.vimeo.com&fullscreen=1&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=01AAEA"></a><a style="left: 0px ! important; top: 0px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-07864085022821976 visible ontop" href="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=412269&server=www.vimeo.com&fullscreen=1&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=01AAEA"></a><a style="left: 0px ! important; top: 0px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-07864085022821976 visible ontop" href="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=412269&server=www.vimeo.com&fullscreen=1&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=01AAEA"></a><a style="left: 0px ! important; top: 0px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-07864085022821976 visible ontop" href="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=412269&server=www.vimeo.com&fullscreen=1&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=01AAEA"></a><a style="left: 0px ! important; top: 0px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-07864085022821976 visible ontop" href="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=412269&server=www.vimeo.com&fullscreen=1&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=01AAEA"></a><a style="left: 0px ! important; top: 0px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-07864085022821976 visible ontop" href="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=412269&server=www.vimeo.com&fullscreen=1&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=01AAEA"></a><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=412269&server=www.vimeo.com&fullscreen=1&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=01AAEA" height="300" width="400"> <param name="quality" value="best"> <param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"> <param name="scale" value="showAll"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=412269&server=www.vimeo.com&fullscreen=1&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=01AAEA"></object><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Teenage Mutant Ninjas<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2341/2049554102_fe9642f641_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2341/2049554102_fe9642f641_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Nudibranch?<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2208/2048786105_1a22c8ccc3_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2208/2048786105_1a22c8ccc3_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">Nudibranch: Chromodoris willani<br /></span></div>grant owenshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03430461749154725196noreply@blogger.com0