The following morning many in the group went one better and climbed
the sandhill in the dark to watch the sunrise wash the sky with ever changing hues and fire the glazing of Manly and the city towers. I was toasty in the tent and and it was too early for that caper. Looking across the bay from the annex of the tent I watched the glinting golden city towers, and found it piquant that Mud Island throws a similar profile. While the mossies might be a bit too friendly I think we
need more of the Mud profile if the bay is to survive.
The marshmallow yellow held and the group split into their varying timetable commitments and interests. After Carol's shark trolling using a half drowned Santa and the known residence of a very large hammerhead shark in these waters, we were surprised to see Peter used his crocs as shark bait. A strike would make the
bite of wasabe peas seem friendly.
Dean and Graham accompanied
Brian, Mark and I to head south and explore the lagoon concealed in the heart of Crab Island. The last quarter of an incoming tide and visibility gave us an opportunity to view some racks on the oyster leases. In the meantime cormorants and other seabirds played post exchange as they flew out to a mass congregation
several Km to the west.
The sanctuary of Crab Island hid thousands of fish the last time we wended our way through the mangroves. While we did not explore the very largest open pool today, what we did find has changed dramatically. It seems unlikely that the proliferation of smothering weed, the absence
of fish could be seasonal. We will return in the summer, for if
what we see is the same, then the bay is in desperate trouble. It would be difficult to attribute it all to sampling error.
We headed around he southern end of Crab and continued to be struck by the absence of anything. I went ahead for some leafy privacy and radioed my intent. Successfully out of the boat
in knee deep water, the mangrove branch which had kindly offered
a balance point was rotten, broke and gave me an involuntary swim. Oooohhh it was chilly and certainly not my plan.
Graham had a waypoint for previous dugong sighting off Coonungai Banks. We paddled out for a place some 4Km to the NW into a firming NW/NE
breeze which was cooling me down quickly. Too quickly and it was time to go and get dry. Brian was happy to return to shore so we left Dean and Graham to continue their search for, from what we had seen so far, seemed to have very remote odds of being successful.
Back for lunch, a hammock and book or gear maintenance. We were warm and dry when Graham and Dean returned claiming success. Now Dean, yeah sure, sure, but Graham, I should have know better, for he is like Tom. Tom doesn't do porkies, like he doesn't do up. But I remained a doubting Thomas, that was until Graham produced
the photographic evidence of what they described as two herds of
dugong which were unfazed by their presence and included some mothers and calves. Time to secure the waypoint and check these on the way back tomorrow.
By now we had distant company. A group of paddlers were camping
to the south of the Big Sandhill. An annual ritual with variable numbers from one to a small group organised by Neil who we met at the top of the dune just after the sun sank below the horizon.
The night ambience was more subdued after Richard had left with his LED stadium lighting which now has Mark thinking about what he could do with a solar panel, LEDs and a battery. More stuff - Ray would be proud. But it would probably supplant the tiny gas lantern which, after lack of use rewarded us with gear failure.
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