Garth edged closer to the wild cockatoo sitting on our bow, a crust of bread in one hand and a cheeky grin quickly spreading across his face. The happy fellow was chilling out on our pulpit, right at the front, jumping from one side of the boat to the other. Garth specifically pointed out that we shouldn't feed wild animals... And then couldn't help himself. He threw a few pieces of bread to our friend, who jumped down onto the deck and accepted them graciously. Then after chatting to him for a while, Garth decided to try and coax the bird into taking some out of his hand. He held out the whole crust, so there was a bit of space between the boy and the bird, and our visitor sidled along the lifelines to where Garth was sitting. He cautiously leaned forwards then snatched up the whole crust and flew back to his spot on the bow to enjoy his loot. He started ripping it to shreds in an attempt to extract all the seeds, making a royal mess on our deck. Once we recovered from our laughter, Garth tried to take the huge piece of bread off him, which was when he exited the scene and escaped onto the first spreader of the boat next to us. I don't think they enjoyed the spray of crumbs he then rained down upon them. Whoops.
We decided to name him Steve. Who over the next three days from our anchorage at Nara Inlet, Garth trained to be his friend. He thought it was hilarious. At first because the birds are both magnificent and entertaining up close and later because now they're going to continue to annoy people. Steve came over to visit every morning and afternoon, his presence announced with a loud squawk after the initial thumping noise from such a heavy object landing on our boat. We ignored him some mornings when we were still in bed, and the squawking ceased when Steve realized we weren't going to come out. We figured out he had all the boat people wrapped around his little finger on our second day there, when he landed on another boat and charmed them into submission as they too fed him and took pictures. He brought a friend (or maybe a girlfriend) with him the second day. She was much more shy than him, hanging back and taking a long time to come anywhere near us. But Steve was literally eating out of Garth's hand. My crazy husband put a gardening glove on and held his hand out with the food on his wrist, hoping they would perch on the glove.
They both grabbed the leather with their sharp beaks and instead tried to pull him closer to them. Steve tried leaning forward as far as possible, which resulted in him landing face first on Garth's hand as he refused to let go of the lifelines with his feet. He eventually discovered that Garth was friendly, and was perching on the gloved hand before the end of the day.
Flop!
Pulling the glove closer
The last day we were there Garth decided we shouldn't feed then again. Then when they arrived he couldn't help himself, and let me give them some sunflower seeds. Steve does not care for sunflower seeds. He happily ate some when I scattered them on the deck, but when Garth tried to feed him he was having none of that. Garth was the bread machine, and Steve would accept nothing less than bread from him. Before we left Nara Inlet, the cheeky bugger was quite happily sitting on Garth's arm while he ate his breakfast, much to my husbands delight. If we'd stayed longer I'm sure Garth would have gotten him to sit on his shoulder and say hello (he was trying SO HARD, repeating it over and over again - he thought it would be hilarious when Steve started talking to all the other boat people at random).
The cockatoos really were adorable though. They would land on the stays and hang on sideways before maneuvering their way down using their beaks as an extra foot. And they would sidestep back and forth along the lifelines, or perch up on the solar panels or spreader bars just watching us. The day we left they were strutting up and down the deck like they owned the place. They gave off an aura of intelligence though - they knew which boat was ours, and they could tell the two of us apart from each other. I can see why people keep them as pets - they're amazing birds.
Nara inlet was pretty, although the highlight was definitely the cockatoos. We parked up for a few days to get some repairs done and as a result we've finally fixed the broken windows. Finally. They're not as pretty as before, but they're also no longer rotting after the addition of some fiberglass, epoxy filler and sika.
It was an amazingly calm anchorage there in all wind conditions, but there's not much to do and nobody else seemed to stay more than a night. There's a short walk to a cave with some Aboriginal paintings, which were interesting. I did a day trip to the Whitsundays five or six years ago and when I reached the top of the hill I realized that Nara Inlet had been one of the stops on my trip. It was like a blast from the past - the place was exactly the same. From the water however, it looked the same as all our other anchorages - pretty water, interesting rocks and a picturesque backdrop of hills and mountains.
Aboriginal paintings
We went for a walk along the rocks, where we stumbled upon a tradition that has clearly died off in recent years. Hundreds of boats that had been there in years past had painted their names onto the rocks, along with the year they were there. The American ones often had 'USA' scrawled proudly alongside their names, but the origin of all the others remains a mystery. The ones we could read dated back to the 50's and seem to have stopped 10 or 20 years ago. One was even done by stencil, suggesting that leaving your mark behind was a common thing to do.
We headed to Whitehaven Beach once our repairs were done, which I'd been looking forward to immensely. Another stop from my trip many years ago, I remembered white sand, clear water and being surrounded by beauty. It's what comes to mind whenever anybody mentions a tropical paradise. Coincidentally it's a great kiting spot so Garth carefully timed our stopover for when there would be wind.
Shameless selfie at Tongue Point lookout
We're parked up at Tongue Bay, which is a really nice anchorage. There's turtles everywhere again - I've come to expect them now. I'll be confused when we go back to the real world and I don't get greeted by exciting wildlife every morning and afternoon. There's a pretty walk over the island from our anchorage to the beach, which winds in amongst the trees and goes over a nice boardwalk at the end. There's another path that heads up into the hills and ends at a lookout up above everything. It was a short walk and had a beautiful view.
The view from the lookout
Forest walk
Sunset over our anchorage at Tongue Point Bay
We spent three days at the beach. I can't remember ever just spending a day at the beach before - when I was younger I'd take my board into the water and would have to be dragged out by my mother. Literally. She would yell at me to come in, and after a billion 'just one more' waves she'd come and chase me to the shore. When I was older I hated the sun. And the sand. I guess I still do... I used to get upset when the tiny grains of sand made it into my car, and now I get upset when they're in the boat. I always kept a body board in the car though, just in case I ended up going for a quick paddle. But I would never just go to the beach and park up in the sun with a packed lunch and a book. That's exactly what we've been up to for the last three days though - Garth kited while I lazed around and read a book. It was fabulous.
A few times a day he would come get me and I'd have a quick go on the kite, slowly getting better each time. Slowly. He snapped the kite lines on our last day so I didn't get a turn, but at the end of day two I could go for about 50m before falling down. And when I lost it I could bounce back up and keep going. So that was exciting! Considering the epic nosedives I'd managed the day before... I'm surprised there's any water left in the ocean after the amount I ended up swallowing. I was not impressed with the stingrays, who may have inhibited my learning process - they were everywhere. And they were huge. They would always scoot away as soon as you came near them, but I didn't like looking down to see that I was about to fall onto a giant stingray. They were not my friends.
Kiting over scary stingrays
There were a few other kiters around, but not as many as you'd expect. Jeff's boat was parked up next to ours and he came out kiting for the first two days - he was much better than Garth but it was still fun having somebody else around. We're never very social and usually keep to ourselves so it was really nice to have some good company. The first time I got on the kite I dropped it immediately - concentrating isn't my strong point and Jeff was doing awesome jumps in the corner of my eye. So I was watching him instead of the kite... Maybe one day I'll learn to focus!
The beach itself was a bit strange. We were kiting at Hill Inlet, which is technically still Whitehaven Beach but is actually separated by a channel of water. You can walk across at low tide. It felt like we were all alone, in the middle of nowhere. We'd be the only people on this huge expanse of sand and it was hard to believe we were anywhere near civilization. Then a tour boat would arrive and dump all it's people off. The beach would be really populated for about an hour then they were all herded back on board and taken away again, leaving us on our own private island. It was actually a bit funny watching them - they all did the same thing. Get off the boat, be impressed by how beautiful it was, do the walk up to the lookout, come back down and kind of mill around the water before getting back onboard. None of them seemed to know what to do. Only a handful of people got in the water over three days, out of three or four boatloads a day. They all just stared at the water. Stared at the sand. Took photos and then gazed in wonderment at the kites. Jeff would tease them, swooping the kite low over their heads, doing awesome jumps right in front of them or heading straight for the beach then turning away just before he got to them. They absolutely loved it. Garth is still too scared of crashing into people to come that close to them, so he wasn't as entertaining. When I was kiting and a big tour group were leaving they were all watching me. I launched myself into the air and landed face first in the water, crashing the kite. Garth said he could hear every single person onboard inhale in sympathy as I hit the water... Not quite the same.
The sand is beautiful. It's really fine, really soft and really white. The sun was out for the first two days and I was in and out of the water, washing all the sand off. Yesterday the wind was stronger and the sand was like wind blown snow - it was getting everywhere. All through my hair. In the bags. In my food. There was so much of it in my book that I couldn't close it until Garth swept each page out with a brush back at the boat. I just sat with my back to the wind all day, piles of sand building up around me. Not much fun. It will be a long time before we get all the sand off the boat, out of our hair and off our clothes.
We decided to name him Steve. Who over the next three days from our anchorage at Nara Inlet, Garth trained to be his friend. He thought it was hilarious. At first because the birds are both magnificent and entertaining up close and later because now they're going to continue to annoy people. Steve came over to visit every morning and afternoon, his presence announced with a loud squawk after the initial thumping noise from such a heavy object landing on our boat. We ignored him some mornings when we were still in bed, and the squawking ceased when Steve realized we weren't going to come out. We figured out he had all the boat people wrapped around his little finger on our second day there, when he landed on another boat and charmed them into submission as they too fed him and took pictures. He brought a friend (or maybe a girlfriend) with him the second day. She was much more shy than him, hanging back and taking a long time to come anywhere near us. But Steve was literally eating out of Garth's hand. My crazy husband put a gardening glove on and held his hand out with the food on his wrist, hoping they would perch on the glove.
They both grabbed the leather with their sharp beaks and instead tried to pull him closer to them. Steve tried leaning forward as far as possible, which resulted in him landing face first on Garth's hand as he refused to let go of the lifelines with his feet. He eventually discovered that Garth was friendly, and was perching on the gloved hand before the end of the day.
The last day we were there Garth decided we shouldn't feed then again. Then when they arrived he couldn't help himself, and let me give them some sunflower seeds. Steve does not care for sunflower seeds. He happily ate some when I scattered them on the deck, but when Garth tried to feed him he was having none of that. Garth was the bread machine, and Steve would accept nothing less than bread from him. Before we left Nara Inlet, the cheeky bugger was quite happily sitting on Garth's arm while he ate his breakfast, much to my husbands delight. If we'd stayed longer I'm sure Garth would have gotten him to sit on his shoulder and say hello (he was trying SO HARD, repeating it over and over again - he thought it would be hilarious when Steve started talking to all the other boat people at random).
The cockatoos really were adorable though. They would land on the stays and hang on sideways before maneuvering their way down using their beaks as an extra foot. And they would sidestep back and forth along the lifelines, or perch up on the solar panels or spreader bars just watching us. The day we left they were strutting up and down the deck like they owned the place. They gave off an aura of intelligence though - they knew which boat was ours, and they could tell the two of us apart from each other. I can see why people keep them as pets - they're amazing birds.
Nara inlet was pretty, although the highlight was definitely the cockatoos. We parked up for a few days to get some repairs done and as a result we've finally fixed the broken windows. Finally. They're not as pretty as before, but they're also no longer rotting after the addition of some fiberglass, epoxy filler and sika.
It was an amazingly calm anchorage there in all wind conditions, but there's not much to do and nobody else seemed to stay more than a night. There's a short walk to a cave with some Aboriginal paintings, which were interesting. I did a day trip to the Whitsundays five or six years ago and when I reached the top of the hill I realized that Nara Inlet had been one of the stops on my trip. It was like a blast from the past - the place was exactly the same. From the water however, it looked the same as all our other anchorages - pretty water, interesting rocks and a picturesque backdrop of hills and mountains.
We went for a walk along the rocks, where we stumbled upon a tradition that has clearly died off in recent years. Hundreds of boats that had been there in years past had painted their names onto the rocks, along with the year they were there. The American ones often had 'USA' scrawled proudly alongside their names, but the origin of all the others remains a mystery. The ones we could read dated back to the 50's and seem to have stopped 10 or 20 years ago. One was even done by stencil, suggesting that leaving your mark behind was a common thing to do.
We headed to Whitehaven Beach once our repairs were done, which I'd been looking forward to immensely. Another stop from my trip many years ago, I remembered white sand, clear water and being surrounded by beauty. It's what comes to mind whenever anybody mentions a tropical paradise. Coincidentally it's a great kiting spot so Garth carefully timed our stopover for when there would be wind.
We're parked up at Tongue Bay, which is a really nice anchorage. There's turtles everywhere again - I've come to expect them now. I'll be confused when we go back to the real world and I don't get greeted by exciting wildlife every morning and afternoon. There's a pretty walk over the island from our anchorage to the beach, which winds in amongst the trees and goes over a nice boardwalk at the end. There's another path that heads up into the hills and ends at a lookout up above everything. It was a short walk and had a beautiful view.
We spent three days at the beach. I can't remember ever just spending a day at the beach before - when I was younger I'd take my board into the water and would have to be dragged out by my mother. Literally. She would yell at me to come in, and after a billion 'just one more' waves she'd come and chase me to the shore. When I was older I hated the sun. And the sand. I guess I still do... I used to get upset when the tiny grains of sand made it into my car, and now I get upset when they're in the boat. I always kept a body board in the car though, just in case I ended up going for a quick paddle. But I would never just go to the beach and park up in the sun with a packed lunch and a book. That's exactly what we've been up to for the last three days though - Garth kited while I lazed around and read a book. It was fabulous.
A few times a day he would come get me and I'd have a quick go on the kite, slowly getting better each time. Slowly. He snapped the kite lines on our last day so I didn't get a turn, but at the end of day two I could go for about 50m before falling down. And when I lost it I could bounce back up and keep going. So that was exciting! Considering the epic nosedives I'd managed the day before... I'm surprised there's any water left in the ocean after the amount I ended up swallowing. I was not impressed with the stingrays, who may have inhibited my learning process - they were everywhere. And they were huge. They would always scoot away as soon as you came near them, but I didn't like looking down to see that I was about to fall onto a giant stingray. They were not my friends.
There were a few other kiters around, but not as many as you'd expect. Jeff's boat was parked up next to ours and he came out kiting for the first two days - he was much better than Garth but it was still fun having somebody else around. We're never very social and usually keep to ourselves so it was really nice to have some good company. The first time I got on the kite I dropped it immediately - concentrating isn't my strong point and Jeff was doing awesome jumps in the corner of my eye. So I was watching him instead of the kite... Maybe one day I'll learn to focus!
The beach itself was a bit strange. We were kiting at Hill Inlet, which is technically still Whitehaven Beach but is actually separated by a channel of water. You can walk across at low tide. It felt like we were all alone, in the middle of nowhere. We'd be the only people on this huge expanse of sand and it was hard to believe we were anywhere near civilization. Then a tour boat would arrive and dump all it's people off. The beach would be really populated for about an hour then they were all herded back on board and taken away again, leaving us on our own private island. It was actually a bit funny watching them - they all did the same thing. Get off the boat, be impressed by how beautiful it was, do the walk up to the lookout, come back down and kind of mill around the water before getting back onboard. None of them seemed to know what to do. Only a handful of people got in the water over three days, out of three or four boatloads a day. They all just stared at the water. Stared at the sand. Took photos and then gazed in wonderment at the kites. Jeff would tease them, swooping the kite low over their heads, doing awesome jumps right in front of them or heading straight for the beach then turning away just before he got to them. They absolutely loved it. Garth is still too scared of crashing into people to come that close to them, so he wasn't as entertaining. When I was kiting and a big tour group were leaving they were all watching me. I launched myself into the air and landed face first in the water, crashing the kite. Garth said he could hear every single person onboard inhale in sympathy as I hit the water... Not quite the same.
The sand is beautiful. It's really fine, really soft and really white. The sun was out for the first two days and I was in and out of the water, washing all the sand off. Yesterday the wind was stronger and the sand was like wind blown snow - it was getting everywhere. All through my hair. In the bags. In my food. There was so much of it in my book that I couldn't close it until Garth swept each page out with a brush back at the boat. I just sat with my back to the wind all day, piles of sand building up around me. Not much fun. It will be a long time before we get all the sand off the boat, out of our hair and off our clothes.
Xxx
Monique
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