The Lighthouse Song (Sal Salis, Cape Range National Park)

No breakfast for me to begin the day, dear reader. I was up at 5:30am, to dress and gather my gear to slip out away, as quietly as possible. Told Jayne to go back to sleep as I zipped up the tent flap to ensure the flies didn’t carry her away while I was gone. It wasn’t the most restful night for either of us. The wind had picked up from the east again and ripped at the fly over the tent. It sounded at times as if someone was trying to get into the tent and at others, like there were wild animals scratching at the door. Just like the people in the The Lighthouse Song by Josh Pyke.

No need for a torch.

I was at the Lodge before 6:00am, gathering with the other early risers who were joining the sunrise walk to Mandu Mandu. In the local language it means “meat meat”, a good place to hunt.

We walked the path back to the South Mandu carpark and on the way, I snapped a few shots of the sleeping resort with the full moon as a backdrop, hovering above the sea. After one snap, I saw a shooting star. Magic. We were soon on the bus for a 5 minute drive to another carpark where we commenced our walk down the old river bed, through the gorge and up the hill.

First light in the gorge.

En route, we passed through black footed wallaby territory and a few of them stopped to pose for us. The gorge walls were stunning as the sun rose and they changed colour to create a paint chart of shades of red. 

The walk down the river bed was surprisingly easy.

We walked at a pleasant rate, intent on enjoying the surroundings and listening to the natural world wake. The view from the top was as brilliant as expected. A sweeping vista across the valley, out to the sea and the reef. Sal Salis was clearly visible as was the reef and the whales beyond it, breaching and fin slapping.

Nice pose. Excellent contrast of colours.

The walk back to the car park was as benign as the climb up to the top of the hill and we were soon back at the resort ordering breakfast. Jayne was waiting for me in the Lodge and once breakfast was done, we went back to the tent to change for another drift snorkel. On the way back she regaled me with a Tinnitus story. Apparently, his wetsuit was the wrong size and he wandered into the Lodge talking about the problem with the suit. Interestingly, he was alone.

The view from the first rest stop.

Down on the beach, we prepared our gear for the snorkel. The swell had almost completely gone and the sea was much calmer than the last few days. As we were readying ourselves, we were approached by a random traveller, Adrienne, who was snorkelling alone and wanted to alert us to this fact. We also learnt where she placed her bag and where her phone was that contained the emergency contact. Overshare. It turned out that Adrienne was not a guest of Sal Salis; she was in a campervan, on holiday from Cairns. In theory she should not have been there. While the beach is not privately owned, the resort site is and her access to the beach was through the resort. Queenslanders!

The Lodge in the distance and the beach where we snorkelled.

Conditions today were excellent. The visibility had improved and the current had dropped slightly. We walked to outer end of the resort and put our gear on and drift snorkelled back to where our gear had been left. The number and variety of fish astound me every time I stick my head into the water. I won’t try and name the varieties, but the colours defy description on a day where the sun ensures iridescent sparkling. Azure blue to sunshine yellow, purple to green to silver, every colour was accounted for somewhere on a fish or coral growth.

A singing honey-eater (I was told).

The drift back to base occupied about 15 minutes and we were not wearing wet suits, so came ashore to warm ourselves in the sun. Adrienne had completed her second drift by this time and stopped for another chat before heading into the water for the last time. We walked up to our starting point and hit the water again, this time heading further out into the coral before drifting back to our gear. The second drift was over 20 minutes and that was enough time in the sun for us. Time for a shower and change of clothes.

A Cape Range Grevillea.

What is next? Lunch of course, dear reader. Not that we were hungry, but you know, it’s on offer. Today vongole in garlic and butter served with a baguette. And in our case, wine and beer. As we discussed the options, Tinnitus was in the corner talking. Incessantly. “Do they ever shut up?” asked Jayne. It’s like any thought that comes into their head needs to be verbalised. Following lunch, I edited the photos I’d taken, blogged a little, watched some newbies arrive and then repaired to the tent for some reading. Dinner tonight is still a mystery as the board hadn’t been placed up before we left, but we do know we are leaving Sal Salis tomorrow at 10:00am. Sad face.

Fortunately the white shouldered wrens that I'd been stalking down at the Lodge, appeared next to our tent in the fading afternoon light. While they weren't totally co-operative, I wanted the male in the sun to show off his sparkling colours, I understand that he had other things on his mind. Well, he is male.

White shouldered Fairywren looking for romance.

A different dinner that evening, same concept, three courses with paired wines. Curiously, from my perspective they paired the pork belly entrée with a Sauvignon Blanc. Yeah nah. We went with the Pinot Noir. As did the two couples we had been chatting with prior to dinner. All of the wines are from Denmark. The West Australian area, not the country, and are cold climate wines.

We had plenty of laughs over dinner as tales from the day were recounted and we shared stories of our lives and travel. The moon is only just past full and once again proved to be too bright for the sort of night photography I was chasing so it was time for bed.

Until tomorrow.