WET WEATHER AND THE CRYSTAL CAVES (5-9 JUNE 2013)

I have yet to find a caravanning magazine which shows long suffering campers huddled beneath their awnings, staring mournfully out at the sheeting rain, when life degenerates into a constant round of checking for leaks and making sure your annex floor slab does not flood, or, when it does, everything is up off the ground (especially the freezers).   

  

(you can see the water pouring off the end of the awning roller...I set it on an angle for just this purpose)
 

And when the wind is a screaming banshee, no amount of checking guy ropes and pegs, awning rafters and anti-flap stays brings peace of mind. Flapping canvas and creaking stays do nothing to induce those feelings of blissful mental indolence universally portrayed as the constant companion of all who spend their lives on the road.  And absolutely no amount of mental rationale can ever really overcome those nagging night-time doubts when the elements are on a rampage and the volume on the TV is at its highest to be able to hear it over the rain .....I'm sure that tie down strap is tight enough...what's that new noise?  Bugger, better go out and check.  Or, alternatively...no, we need a new awning...let it shred and we'll claim it on insurance (naughty)!

 

So what does one do when a long walk or a paddle or reading in the sun are all out of the question? 

(there is actually a line of hills behind the tree-line)

Apart from the obvious...raid the bar...wet weather does provide other opportunities.  These are the times to get into the galley, cook up a storm (deliberate!) and fill the freezer with meal packs (until it is time to raid the bar!)

 

  

Bill paying, trip planning (I have now worked out it will take us about 40 days to reach Fremantle from Kurrimine Beach....without killing ourselves in the process, that is, and allowing time for such things as photographing Mark D's plaque in the Tennant Creek Police Club), spring cleaning (it's amazing just how grubby the inside of the van can look on a wet day) and finally finishing that book which has sat on the bedside table for the past week, are all alternatives. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But, best of all, it can be time to party.  At Lake Tinaroo we did our bit, starting with Rhonda's birthday, when we finally graced the interior of the Tolga pub for a celebratory lunch, 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and later boxed on with birthday cake and bubbles. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another inevitable result of crappy weather is the awakening of the 'silly section' of the brain.  I was disappointed to find that JV did not consider an invitation to an evening meal of Marshie's highly prized tuna pasta (still going strong, David W..great recipe) warranted dressing for the occasion.  At least one of us maintained a sense of style!

 

 

 

(I was a touch concerned that John was laughing so hard he was about to induce a hernia!)

 

It was indeed a fine evening, notwithstanding the fact that the drying clothes in the  

background created an atmosphere akin to dining in a Chinese laundry.

This was also the evening of the feathered visitor.  I know have previously fleetingly referred to that menace of night time peace and quiet, the Stone -Curlew.  This is the only known member of the bird family which can unnervingly imitate the sound of a screaming baby, at a volume which has to heard to be believed.  Fortunately we had experienced this phenomenon on Magnetic Island, and knew what was going on, unlike a couple of our less worldly  fellow campers at Lake Tinaroo who later in conversation reported flying out of their van on a mission of rescue with the first salvo. 

We had seen curlews on our travels around Lake Tinaroo
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

but were unaware of just how many of them make the caravan park their home, until the evening cacophony began. 

And, of course, there is nothing like proving who owns the park. This cheeky devil had actually come right up to our slab as we were enjoying post dinner drinks.  I stupidly threw it a piece of left-over pasta.....he was onto it like a seagull onto a sick prawn, and remained on station until we had to shoo it away.  I am sure it was merely coincidental, but we did receive an especially fine chorus later than night.


Catching up with those otherwise 'put off' jobs provides another useful way of spending a wet day.  In this case, it was a trip to Cairns to have one of our large mirrors repaired.  The folding mechanism had failed, a result, we suspect, of someone having knocked it.  Our man Jason at TJM, the local Clearview dealer, could not have been more helpful.  And our trip down the mountains through Gordonvale and later the return up through Karanda more than proved the  wisdom Hen's advice to take the Palmerston Highway to Atherton, no other. 

Jason very kindly drove us from the industrial area into Cairns central where we had a couple of hours wandering about in a nostalgic frame of mind.  We had flown up for a week in the sun some eight years ago.  Why we were surprised about wet weather on this trip is a matter of memory loss, I suspect.  We had one day on that previous visit when the sun actually shone from dawn till dusk. 

What a surprise the walk along the Esplanade presented.  As we looked back towards the marina, we realized that someone had stolen our yacht.  But at least it presented a photo opportunity.

Many of you may recognise this monster as 'Octopus', the plaything of Paul Allen, the co-founder of Microsoft . It is  big.  As the fifth largest privately owned yacht in the world, this leviathan of the seas stretches for over 125 metres along the dock, caries a permanent crew of nearly 60 and has a cruising range of 8,000 nautical miles at 17 knots.  Mind you, that trip will empty the fuel tanks of the 850,000 litres they can hold.  The purchase price of $200 million is just the start.  Then add the toys...7 tenders, the largest of which is 20 metres, two submarines, one of which can accommodate 10 crew for two weeks below the surface, jet skis housed in starboard and port side lockers (whole sections of the hull just drop down), and of, course, not just one helicopter, but two.



 

The larger of the two, pictured here on the aft helipad, had been winding up as I was watching. What an opportunity, I thought, to show it lifting off.  After twenty five minutes of increasing frustration I realized that the pilot must have been doing run up testing of some sort only. 

Before we leave Octopus and re-join the real world of mere mortals, consider that this trinket costs over $20 million per year to maintain, and that does not include crew salaries.  And believe it or not, Allen owns another yacht, 'Tatoosh', one of similarly obscene size and expense.  Just as well his wealth is estimated at $15 billion.  I should have been born a nerd!

Back to Atherton and the Crystal Caves.  As you would expect, my innate scepticism and dislike of commercialism held me back for a while, but, as with the emu eggs in St George, my curiosity finally won out, despite the awful advertising material in the main street and the equally gauche shop front.

Before going any further, I must ask, how many of you can truthfully say you have heard of a 'geode', let alone know what it is?  Come on, truthfully, I said!  I confess to having had no idea.  In brief, and in real lay terms, a geode is a hollow rock which contains crystals.  The most common formed when air was trapped as a bubble in hot, volcanic rock in the days of yore.  As rain fell on the surface of these pockets, minerals leaching into the empty centre formed crystals, which, millions of years later, can be discovered when the rocks are split open. 

With extraordinary results, as became clear in the Crystal Caves of Atherton.  Beyond the entry shop area, where, as you would expect, there are myriads of baubles of vastly varying quality and price for sale, and, after paying the entrance fee of $17.50 and being equipped with a hard hat (very necessary), one enters the man made labyrinth of the caves.

What a wonder-world.  Crystal formations of all sorts are set into the walls and ceiling of the cave.  I have included but a few to give some impression.

Relatively wide passageways like this one snaked up and down to reveal a number 

of different grottos, all of which contained displays of different styles.  In this, which is obviously kept relatively dark, the crystals are all luminescent.







I have to profess to having nothing but the most rudimentary knowledge of rocks and crystals, and I spent my time 'being impressed' rather than studying the exhibits in detail.  And impressive it is.

At every turn there was something new.

Largish cut geodes, like this of amethyst, from Brazil,

rubbed shoulders with crystal displays, some in cases like this

and others free standing.

And then there were the fossils, such as this example of the many on show, these purportedly 300 million years old. (one would hope that this display is so public that the representations made are true).

Amidst this plethora of varying exhibits were some real oddities, like this (real) crystal ball, for example.  It was in spots like this I thought things were becoming a little 'side-showish', but the undoubted real star of this place is............

'The Empress of Uruguay'

 

This enormous amethyst crystal geode, the largest found in the world to date, stands 3.5 metres high and weighs in at 2.7 tonnes.  The untold numbers of amethyst crystals which have been formed in the centre are all of 'jewellery-quality' (or so says the blurb).  Goodness only knows what it is worth.....I didn't ask.

 

The other star turn in the Caves is this extraordinary block of carved Lapis Lazuli.

 

 

It is unfortunate that the lighting set up in the Caves was such that I was unable to properly photograph the incredible detail in the carving, which depicts a Chinese scene.  Once again, the supporting information rattles on about the rarity and value of this piece, something I am in no position to challenge.  It did occur to me, however, as I looked around, that there was scant security, either human or electronic, protecting these objects of such purported value.  As I said before, I was happy to just believe what I read and remain 'impressed'.

 

And, as I also mentioned previously, this pictorial 'whistle-stop' tour of the Caves is just that.  There were literally hundreds of pieces on display.  I could not help thinking of my old mate, Nifty Nev from South Brighton, a real collector of rocks and minerals, as I wandered through.

 

Finally, with all this wet weather, how does the ship's cat manage?  Very well indeed!  Periods on skink and bird patrol (he is still yet to catch anything)

 

 

 

were liberally interspersed with necessary recovery periods, for some of which your correspondent

 

 

  

uncharacteristically weakened (but it was happy hour after all).

 

Well, this brings us to the end of our stay at Lake Tinaroo where we really did our best to ignore the lousy weather and make the most of it, but I have to confess that after fourteen days in which only two were rain free, we were happy to be leaving.  Not that the trip down to Kurrimine Beach was a stroll in the park.

 

 

Our descent from the Tableland was challenging, to say the least, when the concentration necessary to keep the rig on the straight and narrow (literally) down the steep slopes of the Palmerston Highway was exacerbated by the rain and heavy fog which was a feature of the majority of the two hour trip to the coast. 

 

I have learnt that there is always a risk in returning to place of a previous stay with set expectations, but we had no such concerns with Kurrimine Beach. It was like coming home.  We have now been here for five days, snugly settled into our old site, which we like to think is the best in the park, and have sat out another period of four days of pouring rain.  This is so much easier when surrounded by friends, old and new, and at KB we are. 

 

I've not included photos of our camp here for the simple reason that it would be a repetition of what I posted last year which is still quite accessible.  In fact, our recent sorties around the town have revealed that nothing much has changed, and frankly, that suites us fine.  The weather has now broken, John and I are fixing our fishing rigs, the kayak is off the Cruiser, I have already done 20 laps in the large park pool and happy hours to date have been a hoot.  And we have finally discarded the quilt at night!  This is what it is all about.

 

For obvious reasons, I intend to take a blogging break for a week or so.  Liz and I are booked in here for just over another fortnight after which we'll be making our way up to Cooktown and back before spending August back in Kurrimine Beach.  That will all be new territory for us, so the trusty camera will be out and my eyes will again be everywhere.  In the interim, may the fishing and weather gods smile on us for the next two weeks and the fridges keep the beer cold.