On a wing and a prayer (Fitzroy Island)

Friday October 3 - Fitzroy Island to Sydney 

Work is so close now I can sense it – not that we both haven’t been answering phone calls, texts and clearing email when we can get a solid shot at a network.  Ah, the 24/7 life.  Put your hand up if you remember work prior to mobile phones and email?  What was that like?

The bats! The bats! They drove me mad last night.  They had commenced before we arrived home and welcomed us to the verandah by dropping some bombs on the roof and in the garden.  This kept up intermittently until dawn.  Yes, I was a tad tired when the footfall from next door sounded the alarm to rise and shine.

An unusual sight - the pontoon is empty.

Breakfast was, well you know.  We are both looking forward to a decent coffee in Cairns after our long lunch on the pier.  Back to the cabin to pack our bags and wait.  Promises from staff to pick up our bags proved to be like so many promises on Fitzroy – hollow.  We waited until 9:45 and then I set out to check out. 

What did I expect I hear you ask?  Well, I expected a long queue and a disputed bill.  Sadly, I was not disappointed.  The queue was reasonably long and slow because one couple were in dispute over their bill and this was taking a long time to resolve.  There was of course, only one other person on the desk dealing with everyone else.

When I finally made the counter I thought there would be issues with our bill too.  There were, but not in the way I anticipated.  They had not charged us for our pathetic attempt at diving.  Off to the dive shop goes the desky leaving no-one being served at all.  I could feel the eyes behind me boring holes in the back of my head.  Well, I had to tell them we’d been undercharged.

Back to the desk.  No charge for the dive.  Wow.  Thank you very much.  She rings up the total plus credit card surcharge (rip off) and overcharges me $90.  Can’t be rectified without the supervisor who can’t be found.  We agree that she email me when the problem is sorted so that she can deal with the ever lengthening queue.  The other people are just finalising their bill now.

It’s now 10:15 and Jayne is still at the cabin with the bags waiting for their collection.  She has started a conversation with the people next door who express their dismay at the discrepancy between the brochure and the reality of Fitzroy Island.  I decide that it’s like a boy trying to be a man.  The physique might be there after some gym work and the voice, whiskers and beard might give the allusion of masculinity, but the experience and wisdom aren’t there.  Or, to paraphrase Clueless, it’s a Monet – great from a distance, but close up it’s a mess.

In the end we take our bags to reception and head up to Foxy’s to where it all began.  We end as we commenced, with a bottle of white overlooking the most sublime scenery with a light breeze to keep us cool.

The other advantage of Foxy’s is that it gives you a vantage point to see when the ferry is in proximity.  No need to move before it’s time.  We forget we are on island time however and the 12:15pm ferry appears on the horizon and docks close to the nominated time but departure is another half hour away – the 12:15 ferry in fact is the 12:45 ferry.

From the ferry as we leave

The trip is uneventful and upon disembarking we head straight for Dundee’s Restaurant and a lovely relaxing meal before the terror of airline food.  An excellent antipasto plate followed by a variety of seafood accompanied by the pinot grigio from Tasmania that I tried to order last Sunday – a delightful way to finish the day before we go hunting for a taxi.

What was that dear reader? Snowy Phelps? Oh, I had my nights confused, he is on tonight but by then we'll back home.

Until January and Lord Howe Island ... take care.