(Lilly checks herself out in the mirror. Taken with my mobile phone).
Of all the strange things that happen in the universe, there’s one that is stranger than anything else.
On our small planet alone live more than 6 billion people. Another 6 billion people have already lived and died here. Yet of all those people that live, or have lived and died, one of them thinks that they are “me”.
Billions of people experience the world, but by some wierd contortion of cosmic reaility I get to “be” one of those people. I get to see things through “my” eyes; hear things through “my” ears; touch, taste, smell and feel things from “my” perspective.
How did the 10,298,453,312th human to be born become “me”? Why me and not someone else?
Science can explain how we arrived here as a species. That in itself is strange enough. But can anyone explain where self-awareness came from?
Awareness of self brings with it both triumph and tragedy. While we exalt in experiencing the universe, we become painfully aware of our own mortality: a hundred and fifty years ago there was no “me” to experience things; a hundred and fifty years from now there will be no “me” again. We are all born, live and die.
I took this photo at sunrise with my Sony Ericsson mobile phone one morning while we were holidaying at Caloundra last winter. It’s a beautiful part of the world to be in during the winter with no crowds, and very reasonable accommodation prices.
The Dicky was a 96 foot Iron Steamship built in Germany in 1883.
Ten years into her working life, she was caught in a heavy north-easterly storm off Caloundra Head in February 1893, and ran aground at what we now know as Dicky Beach.
Thankfully, all passengers and crew were saved.
Legend has it that the skipper of the Dicky had trouble with visibility during the storm, and mistakenly assumed that he had rounded Caloundra Head, when in fact it was still a long way off.
The engine from the Dicky was salvaged from the wreck and used in the “Lady Norman” – a larger Iron ship, almost 130 feet long. Lady Norman had a much longer life, eventually being scuttled in 1969 on Curtin Artificial Reef in Moreton Bay.
The lesson for us amatuer sailors is that stormy weather is treacherous. If a 226 ton Iron steamer can run aground in a storm, how much easier a lighter lady such as my own Myuna II (10 tonnes, 36 feet)?
As the saying goes, there are plenty of bold saiors, plenty of old sailors, but not many old, bold sailors.
(The North Pine River at Sunrise. I took this with a cheap digital camera while going for a walk at about 5am one morning)
Liz is the love of my life.
I wrote this double acrostic for her during a difficult time for us.
They’re difficult to write because the words are written in a square, and the first and last column of letters makes up a word – in this case a name. So each line has to have exactly the same number of letters, with the only leeway being that full-stops may have either one or two spaces after them to help keep the acrostic square.
They’re worth the challenge. But so is life 🙂
Enduring hope of a shareD Life with you gives extrA Impetus to us. No shadoW Zones of despair can ruiN An iron-strong tie insidE Both of us. Our love caN Endure the many trials iN This life that we face. I Have faith in our onenesS
This song by Merle Travis is a great inspiration to not spend too much time in the office!
A great thought for a Friday afternoon.
DARK AS THE DUNGEON (Merle Travis)
Come all you young fellers so young and so fine And seek not your fortune in the dark, dreary mine It will form as a habit and seep in your soul ‘Til the blood of your veins runs as black as the coal
Where it’s dark as the dungeon and damp as the dew Where the dangers are many and the pleasures are few Where the rain never falls and the sun never shines It’s dark as the dungeon way down in the mines
It’s many a man I have seen in my day Who lived just to labor his whole life away Like a fiend with his dope or a drunkard his wine A man must have lust for the lure of the mine
I hope when I’m gone and the ages do roll My body will blacken and form into coal Then I’ll look down from the door of my Heavenly home And pity the miner a-digging my bones
The midnight, the morning, the breaking of day Are the same to the miner who labors away. Where the demons of death often come by surprise, One slip of the slate and you’re buried alive.
The beautiful Tangalooma wrecks at sunset. Photo courtesy D. Baker.
Dave took this photo from the back of my boat after we’d spent the day sailing to Tangalooma.
I think it is wrong ot the Tangalooma Resort to barricade the beach and prevent visitors walking along the beach after 5.30pm.
The resort chopped down several large gum trees which it placed at the north and south ends of the beach to form a blockade preventing access to the beach. Signs at either end of the beach proclaim that the resort owns the land down to the low water mark. The resort placed security guards on motorbikes at either end of the beach, only allowing access to guests who were staying at the resort.
It is outrageous to have resort operators in Queensland barricading beaches and stopping people going for an evening stroll.
I visited Moreton Island with my family this week and took them for a walk along the beach. We were confronted with a barricade of trees, and a security guard on a motorbike who said we weren’t allowed on the beach near the resort after 5.30pm. Not only is this a terrible restriction of freedom, it is a huge embarrassment for tourism in Queensland. Imagine if word got out that tourists weren’t allowed to walk on some beaches here after dark? The Tangalooma resort is doing a grave disservice to Queensland Tourism.
Either the resort has got its wires crossed about where its property boundaries extend to, or the Queensland Government is allowing corporations to buy up our beaches, and stop us walking along them. If that’s the case, then the law has to be changed.
Most coastal property boundaries in Queensland extend to the high water mark, which gives anyone free access to the beach. Who did a deal that allows tourism operators to lock us out of our own beaches?
Not only that, who chopped down the huge eucalypts on the island to build this ugly barricade?”
The Tangalooma Resort should lift its ban on visitors walking along the beach outside the resort after 5.30pm. The Queensland Government should review laws which allow resorts to restrict access to beaches to anyone but resort guests.