KURRIMINE BEACH AND DEPARTURE OF HMAS MELBOURNE (AUGUST 2013)

Well, dear readers, after our brush with history in Cooktown and our 'green' adventures in the Daintree and elsewhere, here we are back at Kurrimine Beach for the month of August. 

Actually, in real time it is almost the end of the month. I've just returned from five days in Sydney seeing Stu off to the Middle East and we are now planning our trip south and west. It seems extraordinary to think we have now been here almost a month, but that's KB for you, or at least, for us....a place which is now almost like a second home.

 

But before I reminisce on this current stay, let us briefly visit Sydney.  As I am sure most know, my younger son Stuart is a Navy Seakawk pilot, currently posted to the Australian guided missile frigate HMAS Melbourne. 

 

Melbourne left Garden Island on Sunday last (August 25) for a seven month tour of duty as part of the Combined Maritime Forces which are operating in the Middle Eastern waters to combat piracy, drug smuggling and other activities which threaten the safety of mariners in that part of the world. Australia is one of 29 countries contributing naval forces to this effort, which is actually part of what is known as 'Operation Slipper', a vast military operation which includes the fight against the Taliban in Afghanistan.

 

One of the reasons we chose to stay again in KB was to be near the major airport at Cairns from which I could easily access Sydney by air.   The other great advantage was that we are very well known here and I knew that Liz would have much support if any problems arose in my absence. (and indeed the offers came from everywhere)

 

And so off I went on Wednesday 21 August to spend five nights in the  big smoke with the young Lieutenant, his most charming, intelligent and delightful partner Briony and his brother Cameron, who flew in to join us on the Friday afternoon.

 

I think it fair to say that times like these always carry their own tensions and stresses, but I would not have missed it for quids. A dinner with Stu's fellow officers at a Kings Cross restaurant, a detailed personal tour of the ship, and the chance to see his unit in the heart of Sydney (he lives in a high rise in Castlereagh Street) were all highlights. 

And then came the big day, or the big morning at least.  I was delighted that two of my closest friends, who are Sydney residents and who have known both boys since childhood, could join us for the occasion.  Off to Fleet Base East we went where we became part of the throng of friends and relatives all bent on the same purpose.  And after a wait at the gate,

we were joined by Stu (who had to be on board early for a flight briefing..more of that later), who took us through the security gate and dockside.

 

And once here we passed group after group of the ship's company  posing with their loved ones for the obligatory farewell photographs.  We were no exceptions.

The departure of any navy ship on an overseas posting is always an occasion for a spot of pomp and ceremony.  The navy band tootles away pending the arrival of the Fleet Commander, the relevant Government Minister, and the skipper, all of whom have a few words to say to the assembled crowd, which at this point still includes most of the crew.

But then the time came for the final goodbye,

and the final boarding. (Stu is almost at the head of the gangway)








Once on board, all those officers and sailors not directly involved in the departure tasks 'dress the ship', positions they all hold until the ship is well underway out of the harbour.  So once on board Stu made his way to the upper deck just aft of the bridge wing where he took up station with his shipmates. (Stu is the third officer from the right...a head taller than the others!)

By now things were getting busy.  The skipper can be seen standing on the forward wing of the bridge (immediately above the red life ring), whilst the Executive Officer has taken up his position at the rear corner of the wing.  From here they directed the ship's departure.


To the strains of the National Anthem, Melbourne cast off at precisely 1100 hours as planned (would Navy pride and military precision tolerate anything else?) and made her way stern first (the basin here at Garden Island is too narrow to allow the ship to turn about)

   

  

 

down the channel and out into the haze of Sydney harbour (there were apparently controlled burn offs being conducted around the Sydney bush...thanks fellas...made for great photos ...not!) where her departure was shadowed by a hovering Seahawk. 

 

 

 

 

 

This was not Melbourne's helicopter, and herein lies another story, one of money and influence, which leaves me less than impressed.  The inhabitants of the highly priced apartment block opposite the dock, the end of which can be seen here at the left of shot (this is where Russel Crowe lives), have objected to the noise of navy helicopters being flown onto ships moored directly opposite at Fleet Base East (Garden Island).  Infuriatingly these arrogant and ludicrously influential bastards have won the day and that accounted for the fact that Melbourne's helicopter was not on board. 

 

The aircraft had been the subject of an extensive pre-departure service at HMAS Albatross, the Fleet Air Arm base at Nowra.  For a number of reasons this had not been completed before Melbourne moved onto the dock from which the farewells are managed and helicopter landings are prohibited. 

The upshot of this meant that Melbourne had to recover her helicopter whilst steaming past Jervis Bay, flown out to the ship by Stu's fellow pilot, who has family in Nowra and was more than happy to depart from there.  But as you can imagine I was disappointed to have been unable to see the aircraft in its on board hangar purely because a group of Sydney silvertails have oversensitive ears.  But enough of my railing against these self-centred plonkers...I had similar problems in Adelaide when managing the State Helicopter Rescue Service there...as you have no doubt guessed it remains a raw nerve!

So, "farewell Stu". I must say, having checked the maritime forecast, I did not envy him his prospective passage through Bass Strait and across the Great Australian Bight to Fleet Base West in Fremantle where the ship will refuel and take on more stores.  It looked particularly messy!

 

And what do those left behind do.....obviously, find a pub an raise a glass!

 

And so it was off to Sydney airport the following morning and back to 'reality'....Liz, the cat,  the caravan and Kurrimine Beach, where, as I mentioned in the introduction to this piece, we have now been in residence since the beginning of the month.

 

Doing what all that time I hear you ask?  Not a lot realty in comparative terms.  I think our stay this time can be best summed up in four words...relaxing, reading, exercising and socializing.

 

Up until the time I left for Sydney, the weather here had finally turned for the better.  The winds dropped and we were blessed with three weeks of fine, warm, sunny days and coolish nights.  In fact, in all the time we had spent here, I have never before seen glassy seas at KB.

 

 

Without wishing to harp on the subject, I was still seriously struggling with the effects of the shingles, and was more than happy to be able to potter about, read, swim and take in some rays.  Liz was equally at home with this regime.  And, apart from our first few days, all our neighbours were wonderful folk with whom we shared many afternoon happy hours which just added to our enjoyment.

 

But first, the tale of the 'neighbours from hell'.  In all our travels to date, whilst we have occasionally found ourselves next to fellow campers who are less than sociable, we had never previously struck anyone like those on the site next to us at KB when we pulled in on 1 August. 

 

We always occupy site 12 at KB.  Site 13, which is right in the back corner of the park, is a tight spot on which the park owners usually place camper vans, tents or something equally small.  If anything bigger comes in, we always negotiate with the new arrivals re vehicle parking, mutual movement if necessary, and a general effective use of the combined space of the two sites.  Critically, however, our site includes the patch immediately next to our slab on which we park to make sure we are well off the front roadway.

 

Not so on August 1!  We pulled in to find site 13 taken over by a large motor home, an equally large boat and vehicle trailer, a small 4WD, a tinnie and the tinnie trailer, all spread totally inefficiently throughout the entire site.  The only problem was that the boat trailer had been left on our patch which meant I couldn't park the cruiser off the edge of the road as normal. 

 

And by now I am sure you have guessed the rest.  Notwithstanding a reasoned approach and explanation that the trailer was on our site, and the fact that there was oodles of room for it to be located elsewhere on site 13, our NSW neighbour flatly refused to move anything.  He claimed to have been told that the area where I normally park was his, and refused outright to accept my protestations that I was an old hand here and that this was not so.  Unfortunately the park management did not wish to intervene at this stage, and I decided that taking matters into my own hands could end in tears. 

 

So the cruiser had to be left near the roadway, and sure enough, the following morning a somewhat inexperienced traveller came around the corner and clipped the top of the vehicle on the site opposite ours.  Point proven!  I was now really agitated but remained unable to do anything short of physically removing the boat trailer. 

 

Thus we sat through Thursday and Friday.  I had discovered that they were leaving on the Monday and hoped the trailer would have to be moved before then for packing.  Indeed it was, on mid Saturday morning.  By now I'd had well and truly had enough, particularly when next door numpty then deliberately moved the small 4WD to block any access to our park. 

 

By this stage I had ascertained from our many friends in the park and the staff, that this bloke next door had also been totally unco-operative with those who had preceded us on site 12 and that the pair of them had refused to join in any of the many park activities, notwithstanding personal invitations.  So when mother later drove out to go shopping, the cruiser went into our parking spot at the speed a light.

Because Liz was in a bit of a flap about possible repercussions (damage to the cruiser etc) I decided to front our unco-operative friend and make the point that I was not attempting to be provocative, but, particularly given the early scrape on the corner, was very keen to get out of harm's way.  I also made the point that we were not intending to go anywhere before Monday and that they could park the 4WD across our stern.

I'll not bore you with the details of the subsequent conversation other than to note that my approach to the matter was less than well received, and that the response from Mr Bozo included the comment that it was as well they were leaving when they were or "I would probably deck you".   Needless to say I did point out the potential unpleasant repercussions of any such attempt in words of one syllable and left it at that.  Fortunately we were able to completely avoid them from that point on and they did leave first thing Monday morning, to the great relief of us and many others. 

Our KB life then returned to its normal happy state and one day just drifted into another. 

 

 

But of course, there are always meals to be prepared such as these green tiger prawns from Innisfail















and later enjoyed with a fine glass or two (the prawns here are still not a patch on ours).

And then there are the little things which go wrong from time to time, such as a hole in the hot water system inlet pipe which we discovered only after finding ourselves sloshing about in water under the table.  But after unsuccessful attempts to seal the hole with (very damned expensive) spray and special tape, we picked up a new hose from a nearby caravan dealer and repairs were effected.  Liz almost managed to conceal her amazement that I had  dredged up a hitherto well hidden ability to actually fix something.  Some of my less kindly mates wanted to know where I was able to arrange the brain transplant!

One of the highlights for us here at KB is the social life.  Even those who come in and only stay for a few days or so, as opposed to us 'long termers', have commented on how welcomed they have felt.  Our happy hours are becoming a thing of caravan park legend.  At 1630 hours most afternoons all ears are poised to listen for the happy hour summons....Liz walking up and down the roadway 'ringing the bell'...a little brass bell we have carried for ages and are now putting to good use.(I can't now even remember how we came by it!)

They came from all quarters of the park to answer the summons.  We would often congregate on an empty site slab, but when the park is full it is off to the front beer garden 'chez Marshies'.

This is one of the smaller groups.  Our record stands at 22 late afternoon revellers.  It was on that afternoon a professional photographer turned up and took a number of happy hours snaps (where we all pose in that dreadfully contrived 'cheers' position...broad grins and glasses raised).  I understand that we are shortly to feature in one of the monthly Top Tourist Park news letters.  Ah, fame at last!

And these are the times in which the information flows and connections are made, some of which are mind boggling.  At one recent gathering we were joined by a newly arrived couple, who we knew were from SA, but it got better.  After a few minutes of conversation, Sandra, who had been looking in my direction for some time, piped up with the question, "did you go to Brighton High?"  "Yes".  Response, "you were a singer".  Incredibly after all this time (1958-61 were my high school years) Sandra had remembered my performances in the high school operas and a couple of gigs with a local rock band.  She had been year behind me, but notwithstanding that, later reminiscences revealed that she was a close friend of a lass with whom I had (platonically) knocked around throughout my entire high school life.  Extraordinary!

Apart from the regular happy hours, the social life here at KB is given a real boost by virtue of the (usually) weekly 'all in' meal in the camp kitchen.  This generally takes the form of a sausage sizzle, but every so often we are treated to something a touch more exotic.  One such recent event took the form of a 'fish supper'. We all took a salad or sweets dish in return for which we were served the most delicious fish fillets all supplied and cooked by fellow campers who had had recent success at sea.

This was so popular that we all had to sit at tables outside the kitchen area. (this is about half the group)  What an imposition on a balmy FNQ evening!

But as you all know, there is no such thing as a free lunch.  After we had eaten there was the inevitable outcome.....the karaoke machine.  Somewhat foolishly, a week previously, I had responded to a suggestion that I belt out a couple of old Elvis Presley numbers during which half the camp was up jiving (we are of an age you realise!)  Bad mistake.  I have now become the park's lead singer by default.....and the backup for Cory, one of the park managers, who would insist that I join him in his renditions.

Of course, as soon as we got started the cunning bugger would bale out and leave me to it!  So, what the hell...let's go solo and live with the consequences.

At least Eunice was up on the dance floor...it is nice to be appreciated! 

I was about to close this missive when I realised it has been some time since I posted any news of the ship's cat.  You will be relieved to know he continues to do his duty...the killer guard cat has assumed a new position at the front bedroom window where he does his best to remain alert,

until the sun becomes really warm on his head, that is, when it all gets just too much.








So that's Kurrimine Beach for 2013.  It really has been fun.  Almost like being on holiday!

Our attention is now firmly focused on the business end of this caravanning lark.....fine tuning our travel plans, making the necessary advanced park bookings as far as Mount Isa, cooking up meals for the freezer packs, checking all our other supplies, including medications, booking services for the van and the cruiser, and beginning the job of packing things away for the road.   I must confess that notwithstanding the fine time we have had here, the gypsy in us both is beginning to re-surface.  It will be good to be on the road again.

If the forecast for next week is anything to go by, we shall be leaving KB just in time.  Strong onshore winds and pretty consistent showers are on the way.  At the risk of sounding somewhat like a dog in a manger, this will suit us fine...a tail wind for our route west to our first destination of Mount Surprise where we plan to visit the famous Undarra lava tubes before continuing north-west along the Savannah Highway to Croydon, Normanton and beyond.   From Normanton down and across to Mount Isa will be familiar territory, but beyond that the big adventure recommences!  Stay tuned.