Arlie Beach and Whitsundays

Alright peeps. This beotch is long overdue to drop. I’ll try my best to recall all events as they actually happened.

The story finds me walking the hazy lights of the Arlie Beach esplanade, having just captured the biggest great white shark in recorded history. All talk of the town was about me, but - being of my sedate nature - I played the trick off as a matter of fact, clicking along the street in a casually tailored polo shirt which hung loosely around my tanned and broad shoulders, a wisp of burly hair finding its way out from the top two buttons - which I’d left methodically undone - and leading to an unkempt jaw-line with a smirk painted gorgeously across it. I would give out shy winks to the local girls as I strolled wistfully by. They would answer with a wavering flush and a snap back to their appropriate company. Had he seen? She couldn’t be bothered to know as her thoughts were of me, and only me.

I’d let my gaze fall back to the stars and then inevitably to the sea where victory had lay only a few hours before. To live in this moment forever would be my dearest wish. But just as time had given me glory I knew that she would fold it back to obscurity before the fortnight finished. I had no need for food or drink. On this day my belly was full with the bounty of accomplishment that a man may only see once in his life. If I died just then and went to heaven it could only be a disappointment.

Ok. So maybe not really and that none of that happened. But you weren’t there now were you? You were probably all over your couch like a gangster keeping the newest episode of Desperate Housewives company. You know those women are bitches right? They couldn’t give a damn about you even if someone jammed it in their vat of foundation!

I’m sorry I snapped at you just then. It’s not your fault. I’m cranky is all, strapped down here in Cairns waiting to head up to the vanilla farm tomorrow morning. There are some big projects I’m working on, but I’m lacking the resources to push forward and have to wait until we arrive tomorrow. I’ve just taken it out on the wrong person. Anyway, on to the entry! (We’re already four paragraphs into this thing and I’ve managed to say almost nothing. Hah!)

I was really in Arlie Beach about a week ago in order to sail the Whitsunday Islands. It’s the other half of the package I booked back in Rainbow Beach (the other other half being Fraser Island). I was looking forward tremendously to this excursion because, as some of you may know, I want to eventually buy my own boat and probably die on it doing something stupid. When we hopped aboard, they even had me sign a little thingy paper making me an honorary deck hand! Unfortunately the word “honorary” means the same thing it always does. It means I’m just a publicity showpiece, there to make the throbbing majority look good. Not really. It just means they point at a rope and say “Pull that thing really fast!” They don’t actually give me any life-changing responsibility. Animal instincts for survival, I suppose.

The first day started rather drearily with overcast skies and just enough rain to let us know it wasn’t sunny out. I was aboard with 12 other folks, a skipper, and a REAL deck hand. We motored out of the docking facility and promptly threw up the sails. That was the first time I got to pull something really fast (shut up, you dirty, dirty, silly person). This, sadly, was the only time we’d really get enough of the right kind of wind for this sort of thing. But I was drinking it in at the time anyway.

I can’t say I recall exactly where we went, but I do mermember they first threw is in the water near a smallish island for snorkeling above some reef. Awesome! I’m only sorry that I didn’t have an underwater camera. They sell a small digital one here that I’m thinking heavily about buying. It costs a pretty penny, but I think it would be worth it for some of the amazing photos you can get (for instance: a girl who had one at Noosa used it to film two Danish guys simulating gay sex underwater). During the snorkeling, they snatched those out of the water who had paid an extra $75 to do some scuba diving. I hadn’t booked it, but they had extra gear. I was about to go but decided at the last minute that I’d wait till I got to Cairns as I figured I’d have all the diving I could handle here. Turns out, one way or t’other, I made the right choice. The people who went said the water was pretty cloudy and they couldn’t see much. Bank.

After that I believe we pretty much had to motor to a nearby bay where we docked and enjoyed a quiet evening with some dinner and light drinking/conversation. I slept like an epileptic ferret at a rave. Must’ve been the motion of the ocean, the lightly stuffy cabin, some tea, fear of a giant shark snapping our boat in half, and Benny (the deck hand) talking in his sleep immediately above me. Either way it sucked hot ass. I managed to nod off for probably a total of 3 hours.

No matter. The days had us busy enough to keep even an insomniac in high spirits. This time we headed to the beautiful Whitehaven Beach. We trekked through the bush up to a lookout point which oversaw the shallow white sand that we then walked down to. The sand was very fine and lovely to walk on. Even more-so to wade through under the crystal clear water because the tide dropped so low that the sand became fortified with oxygen. And when the tide comes back in, the sand is left with a fluffy crust that, when stepped on, releases little fart bubbles that tickle your legs - or at least would if you weren’t wearing a stinger suit.

Oh yeah, I think I forgot to mention about all the jellyfish this time of year. Allegedly it’s stinger season so everyone who enters the water on these trips is advised to hire a stinger suit - which resembles a very lightweight wet-suit - for $5 a day in order to protect against painful stinging wounds. This meant that when we arrived at Whitehaven it looked like some kind of crazy cult with everyone walking around a pristine white beach in smart, black, one-piece pantsuits like in one of those Star Trek episodes where they visit some planet and it’s all weird because you’re all like “Jean-Luke, why are you on a beach and not in a star ship battling Klingons or something? THEY ARE DEFINITELY DOING THINGS UP THERE!” Chortle.

We played around here for a couple hours, ending in a chat amidst the shallows as the tide ebbed. A guy named Ferron (sp) made a mound of sand which I felt obliged to encourage him to shape into a phallus. Instead, he tastefully placed a leaf at the top, making it some kind of aborted, Australian Christmas tree. Then he punched the top off and a bunch of sand flew over and hit an Irish girl. Who’s the child here now?

Back on the boat we motored a little way toward our final stop. Halfway there, the captain decided to throw up the sails and try to catch a faint wind heading across us. The going was slow, but at least we were sailing I guess. I got to pull another rope which got my muscles pumped so I looked all big for a little bit. Or at least felt all big. I AM A MAN.

We were headed toward a island with a resort of sorts on it where you could pay $5 and have access to a pool and hiking and activities and things. Just as we approached the island a crazy wind came along and filled the sails. Now this was it! Everyone instantly grew a big-ass beard! The captain informed us that it was the island itself causing the sudden change in the wind. It’s a shame we didn’t have this sort of pace the entire time because the boat was on a tilt like you see in yachting magazines. The girls who were sunbathing had to quickly adjust themselves for this sheer change of circumstances. I was standing at the front like Lieutenant Dan from Forrest Gump, defying the sea with my out-thrust bosom. Shortly thereafter we had to drop sail and attach to a buoy for the night. Damn. I got some more swimming in for a while. We had steaks for dinner. Then there was much drinking.

This night was a lot better since everyone had gotten to know each other more during the day. We were much more talkative and the captain even broke out some of his stories of peril on the ocean. I ended up sleeping more like a dead elephant that night. We were in calmer waters and I think my body had adjusted to the environment. Plus I was drunk.

The next morning we caught a dingy to the resort. The other guys (Dok, Ferron, and Manuel) and I took a hike to a lookout. I split from the walk back early - they were headed to another view - and went back to the pool where the girls were. I had a fruit smoothie, then the gayest drink I could order, then I passed out on a deck chair. When I woke up it was time to go. We climbed aboard the Ragamuffin II one last time and motored toward Arlie again.

Once there, we were informed that there was a table reserved for us at a club called Beaches. Every boat gets their own table when they come back, so it’s not like we were special. We were very awesome though. I was originally supposed to catch an 8:00 bus to Cairns that night. But I stayed to hang with some of the folk I met on the boat. It ended up being a fun night. Most everyone was there. A few people actually had already left on the bus I was going to ride. But since I wasn’t on a schedule at all, I had the luxury of staying.

Ferron was feeling some land sickness and was essentially on the bench all night. After everyone but myself and Dok had left (Manuel disappeared with a chick we met at the resort) we met an Irish couple - Nicola and Ebby - sitting nearby and hung with them for the rest of the night. They were very nice and invited me to stay with them at their swank hotel room a short taxi ride away. They were unable to find accommodation at a hostel, so they had to shell out for an expensive room. When we got there, the first thing I saw was the fancy pool. We all went down to ground level, but I was the only jackass to jump in.

I awoke the next morning feeling like I was still on the boat. I could have sworn the room was swaying. I talked to Nicola and Ebby for a little while then said goodbye. I stumbled across Ferron and Alexandra (Ferron’s gf and a great girl) sitting in the lobby. We were all surprised to see each other and ended up chatting for an hour or so. I had to run to make sure I caught the morning bus I had booked.

That’s pretty much it, I should say. I’ve been chilling in Cairns with George, Josette and Co. Christmas and New Years went fine. They bought me a pass to the Cairns Tropical Zoo. I’m totally stoked on petting the crap out of some kangaroos. Apparently there are plenty of them nearby, but they’re all wild and will eviscerate you if you approach them. What unlucky souls got to discover that nugget of wisdom?

I think I mentioned that we’re headed to the farm tomorrow morning. I’ll have to post my findings from that soon too. I’ll also need to upload photos of everything I just said. George has a limited bandwidth internet plan. I can’t do much more than email, facebook, this, and maybe some light, soft-core pornography without fear of throttling their allowance.

Plenty of fancy shit coming. Keep your eyeballs peeled back, you animals.