Old haunts

Once we left Townsville, I was eager to get to Proserpine and the Whitsundays.  I first went to Proserpine as a bright-eyed 20 year old, I'd met my husband-to-be there and we had returned to live there after we were married and again to spend the winter of 1973, before leaving to make our home in New Zealand.   With my family grown and left the nest, I returned again, on my own, to live and work there in the mid to late 1990s.  I always think that I "found" myself during that time.  It had been an extremely contented period of my life.  I lived alone, in a beautiful setting and I (almost) overcame my fear of snakes and spiders. My job was quite difficult and at times I found it very stressful, I came to accept my limitations and acknowledge that I had some useful skills.  Most importantly, I think, I came to accept myself.  

And I always had lovely friends, right from my first arrival.  I was keen to see Bill and Linda who had been constant friends for so long.  As it turned out, we arrived on the weekend of their 50^th wedding anniversary.  That came as a surprise, as I was there when pretty young Linda took the eye of young Bill, the son of the farmer my boyfriend (husband-to-be) worked for.  50 years ago?  Surely not!  Their children had planned a surprise weekend away for them but we arrived in time for a quick catch up before they left and when their daughter arrived to whisk them away, she slipped us the details of where they would be and when we could meet up with them.   “Make yourself at home. Nothing’s changed much.”   Ah, the comfort of old friendships!

Familiar sights - Bill and Linda's stockyards, above and their cattle, below

I knew the area around Airlie Beach would have grown, of course.  It's about as touristy a place as you can find anywhere in Queensland but how much it had grown did come as a surprise.   The urban sprawl almost reaches to Bill and Linda's farm and there are houses near to theirs where once there were just paddocks and hills.

One thing that looked the same was the little inlet that runs from the beach to the main street, a glorified drain really.

When I had last been there, the debate was raging about the proposed lagoon for the waterfront.  One had to be careful not to get entangled in the strong emotions, for and against.  The beach itself was small, not all that attractive and mostly empty due to the abundance of stingers, almost all year round.  The lagoon was always going to happen, I think.

I didn't get a half decent photo of it.  It was late afternoon with a stiff breeze ruffling the surface.

My sister had said she wanted to do a boat trip around the islands while we were there and I never take any convincing to muck around on boats, so we booked an adventure on the Providence, a 62 foot gaff-rigged schooner, with a maximum capacity of 24 passengers, a much better choice for us than one of the many fast and noisy boats on offer.  We chose well.

She's a beautiful boat.  Regardless of my age, I'm susceptible to the charms of friendly, smiling, handsome young men and even more so when they are competent skippers and have the good grace to flirt with the oldest lady on board.  And let's not forget the Scottish accent.  Thank you, young Keiran, for an unforgettable day.

Airlie Beach 

We left Abel Point Marina in reasonable weather, the water was a little choppy but not too bad.  But we hadn't gone far when the dark clouds rolled in and rain coats were handed out to all on board. The Whitsundays consists of 74 islands, many of which are uninhabited, and I was pleased that I could remember the names of a few as we sailed by.   We were headed for Whitehaven Beach which constantly appears on the list of the top ten most beautiful beaches in the world.  The rain finally arrived while we were on the beach so the crystal white silica sand didn't have its usual sparkle and the water not quite the usual turquoise colour.  The area had been badly affected by Cyclone Debbie in 2017 and it had changed the shape of the beach which now appears to be shorter and wider than it used to be.  Some of the white sand could be seen on the beach of one of the neighbouring islands.

My sister, Tricia setting off for a walk along the beach.

The side of the island where tourist boats unload their passengers on to the beach, is a total contrast, very rocky and rough but at least the spindly trees offered some shelter from the rain while we waited for the dingy to arrive to ferry us back to the boat.

The rain really set in on our way back.  A typical tropical downpour, very heavy.  All cameras and phones had been stowed away below for safety, so I missed the opportunity to try to capture one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen.  The heavy rain flattened the sea and the raindrops hitting on the surface of the water turned it into a milky pale blue with the splash of the raindrops creating a foggy, misty appearance.  Such ethereal beauty!  I totally forgot that I was wringing wet and chilled to the bone.

That sight alone would have made the trip memorable but, added to that was the rogue waves.  We had been meandering along sedately under sail, Keiran telling me about his upcoming trip home to Scotland, how he was looking forward to a hug from his Da, when he broke off mid-speech and called out, "Hang on, folks." and we were looking into a 4 metre wall of grey water.  We were barely over that huge wave before being confronted with another.  I'm thankful that I was at the stern of the boat, I can't imagine how scarey that must have been for those up front.  My one and only experience of a rogue wave!  And they are rare in the Whitsundays.