Fishery Bay

It was beautiful to go to sleep last night with all the windows unzipped.  The moonlight poured in from the east while the crashing waves to the west soothed me to sleep.

Then to wake up to this!

 

This was 6am and I just couldn’t go back to sleep and waste it.  So I made myself a cup of tea and sat outside watching the sun rise, the sets roll in and the surfers roll up. 



I had two hours of peace with my book before the rest of the family began to surface.  By 8.30am the surf was cranking and our little campsite was full of surfers.  Mostly locals.  Mostly old timers.  We were tempted to start selling coffee!

Sadly, this was the site where a young surfer lost his leg (and almost his life) to a 6 metre white pointer last April.  No sign of any white pointers today, but there were still plenty of surfers.

Before breakfast we decided on a walk along the beach.  This time we thought we’d try to climb down the rocky ledge to get there.  Not our best decision ever.  Part way along some big swell rolled in and there we all were clambering over rocks that were getting swamped by waves.  Amidst all the panic Jarrah lost his thong which was swiftly swept out to sea.  Poor Jarrah was more upset about losing his thong than by all the tiny cuts he had on his hands, feet and legs from clinging so hard onto the rocks as the waves hit.  We quickly backtracked and got the hell out of there.

While patching up Jarrah’s scrapes and scratches we got chatting to some South Aussies who were holidaying in Port Lincoln and had popped in to check out the view at Fishery Bay.  They were such lovely people that we were soon sitting around drinking coffee and chatting like old friends.
 

Carol, me, Michelle and Jarrah

The boys were happy to have guests, especially when it meant that the chocolates could come out before breakfast!

After reluctantly farewelling our new friends we finally got around to having breakfast.  The 11.30 pancakes hit the spot! 

By this time Jarrah had calmed down somewhat from his traumatic rock climbing experience and snorted five on his own!

After breakfast we decided to take the sensible path to the beach. 

Here's me still thinking about that 6 metre white pointer.

 

Bruce not so much.

 

Later we headed back into Port Lincoln for a few supplies.  Jarrah was happy to get a new pair of thongs and a new pair of togs.  Bruce was happy to get some more bourbon.  Jack spent some of his birthday money on a new hardcover book of Harry Potter & the Philosopher’s Stone, beautifully illustrated by Jim Kay.  Poor Fletch was asleep.

 

 

After a few more bombies off the town jetty we were ready to return to camp.  On the way back from town we drove around to the other side of Fishery Bay for a different view.

If you look closely you can see our caravan, perched high on the top of the cliff.

We spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying a few cold drinks and a few games of Uno in the warm afternoon sun.  



  Closer to sunset, Jarrah, Fletch and I went back to the beach.

 



Shell collecting,

 



And tanking.

(The art of being a tank)

 



We returned with a bunch of cool shells, and a boat.

 

Tonight’s was an easy dinner of snags in buns.  With just five days left on the road, it’s not lost on me that we’re soon going to have to get out of the habit of having dinner at 9.30pm! 

The day’s tally.  Minus one thong.  Plus one boat.  I think we’re in front.