The boat that took us to the village trip a couple of days ago also serves as a kind of bus service between the two villages on the island of Wayasewa, this little girl was amusing herself while waiting for it to depart this afternoon. My last full day in Fiji, and only three more left in the Southern Hemisphere before I head for home.
The little island of Kuata is separated from Wayasewa by a few hundred yards of open water. It is uninhabited except for the basic resort which lies on the spit of land to the right. This shot was taken from the top of the huge crag of Vatuvula, which towers over the Wayalailai resort, and to which, each night, a bunch of tourists will be dragged by enthusiastic, barefoot and completely vertigo-resistant Fijian guides. It’s probably worth it, though.
Incidentally film buffs – and Tom Hanks fans – might be interested to know that the island on the horizon, just right of center (with the more visible peaks) was the location for the movie Cast Away.
The Yasawa islands stretch in a more-or-less straight line into the Pacific ocean from a point somewhere to the north-west of the main Fijian islands, and are probably former volcanoes. They are also to be my home (and the home of this Californian girl, and everyone else who was on the Yasawa Flyer catamaran out of Port Denarau marina early this morning) for the next few days. The word ‘Paradise’ is often overused, but in this case I think it’s entirely appropriate. This is a good time.
Some historical notes…. Cooktown is, fairly obviously, named for Captain James Cook, and this river for his ship, the Endeavour, which laid up here in 1770 after it was holed on the Great Barrier Reef. Cook and crew spent six weeks here in June and July, repairing the vessel. During this time they also interacted with the local Aboriginals, and became the first Europeans to see the kangaroo — the story that they named this animal after the local word for ‘I don’t know’ is probably apocryphal, but funny anyway.
The world, in general, then forgot about the Cooktown area for 104 years, until gold was discovered nearby in 1874. A year later Cooktown had 65 premises licensed to serve alcohol, and the local Aboriginals, who had been treated rather decently by the crew of the Endeavour, had their lives and culture wrecked for all time.
Cooktown today feels slightly run-down, very frontier; humid as hell, signs warning of crocodile activity in the estuary, more people of Aboriginal descent than I’ve seen anywhere else in Australia, but, on the whole, more agreeable than Byron Bay, at least. There are no surfer dudes and blonde babes in bikinis, but it’s all the better for it. (Did I really say that?)
I know I did this theme a couple of days ago but the beach was so photogenic this evening that I had little choice but to hit it again. Sorry…
Haven’t decided, in full, what I think of Byron Bay yet – ask me on Monday. However, it cannot be denied that it is a very photogenic place. The peak in the background is Mount Warning, which because of its elevation, is the first place in Australia at which the sun’s rays hit the ground on each equinox: that is, we are basically as far east in Australia as one can go.
Pictured as we returned to the mainland from Stradbroke Island: that’s it on the horizon. I like this shot for the way the sea evokes a snowy moor in Yorkshire in January, or possibly silver foil?
This headland sits at the north-eastern corner of Stradbroke Island and lives up to its name, at least, if the sea is what you want to look at. So named by Captain James Cook on 17th May 1770, who presumably did need to see what was going on out there now and again. Clare follows his example, nearly 243 years later.
This particular one didn’t hit Point Lookout (where we reside) although one did come along later in the evening.
Being as this is one of the world’s great beach countries it is perhaps a reflection of my own tastes in activity that a beach has not featured on here since February 28th: but let’s bookend the beachless month of March with a return to that environment for a few days, here at Ballina. This girl is collecting shells off the breakwater. I like the strange pose that she’s been caught in, a sort of sense of discovery about it.
Being 42 