Friday 11 October

Di has likened this holiday to an Agatha Christie thriller.  Who will emerge from their bedroom today?  We sight Graham briefly.  Garry is feeling better.  Watto is absent all day.  Di has still not shown any symptoms of Noro Virus and we are all crossing fingers and toes that she stays that way.  None are more crossed than her own digits.

Cherrie and I walk along Cable Beach

And marvel at the colours of the sea

We spy a sea biscuit

And two different sorts of jellyfish

Always in the company of Jonathan Livingston

We have another glorious swim and sight the always alluring Sturt Desert Pea on the way home

Garry is feeling better by dinner time so the four of us enjoy another BBQ dinner.  The Taylors are still in the sick bay.

Very little grog partaken so far on this holiday.  I am looking to amend that oversight very soon

Saturday 12 October

Garry, whose fishing tentacles appear to reach everywhere, has been collected at 6 this morning for a fishing trip.  Sean and Rubi launch their boat at Town Beach and the three of them spent the day on Roebuck Bay.

The remainder of the party all appear for breakfast.  Hallelujah.  Albeit dry toast and black tea for some, Watto and Graham are feeling fragile but human.  We may be on the way to a group holiday at last.  With some laughs, rather than just gags.

A quiet day, until the fisherman returns mid-afternoon.  Garry, being Garry, neglected to pack his fishing pants and leg covering is essential when spending a day on a boat in this heat.  So Garry, being Garry, went fishing in his pyjama pants.  I mean, who wouldn’t?

Thoughtfully, he catches a Blue Salmon, to go with said PJs

They also snare a Threadfin Salmon, a large part of which we are consuming tomorrow evening, when the fillet has been delivered.

Di, Cherrie and I head off to the Art Gallery Cherrie has identified, with a plan to meet the others at Cable Beach before sunset for a stroll along the sand.  The art gallery (note lack of capitals) is neither a gallery nor does it display anything vaguely attractive to us.  This is curious, since it is in a room of 10 square meters off the reception area of a one-star motel called Broome Time.  After perusing the ‘art’ for nearly 4 minutes we retire to the Sunset Bar at the Cable Beach Club and await word from our friends that they have arrived for our group constitutional.

Due to lack of mobile reception the word doesn’t get to us, so they walk and we stay put and observe another beautiful sunset over the ocean.

To mash the words of The Beetles, “There Goes The Sun”

Gary, Chris (aka Watto) and Graham walk beside the camels

and observe a naturist.  Or pervert.  Likely the latter.  Is that a bag of lollies?

No frontal shots.  This is a family blog.

For only the second time this holiday, the six of us sit down to dinner together.  Scrambled eggs for those most recently recovered and another BBQ and spectacular salads for us.

Di is still standing.

Sunday 13 October

Watto reports she is hungry.  Hallelujah again.  The six of us head off to the Sunset Bar at Cable Beach for breakfast, and we tuck in like the gourmands we’re not.  It is such a relief for me to see everyone eat well.  I have been racked with guilt in the knowledge that I have infected everyone with this wretched virus.  How many other train passengers have spread it I wonder?  Hundreds no doubt.

After an indulgent breakfast we stroll along the beach

The seagulls are everywhere, and the Whistling Kites glide overhead

With Watto, friends for more than 40 years.

This afternoon we will return the two small cars we have had and pick up a large 4WD.  Tomorrow we head north to Cape Leveque, on the very northern tip of the Dampier Peninsula.  We are staying in tents on native title land at Kooljaman,  a remote wilderness camp owned and run by the Indigenous Bardi Jawi people.  Another trouble free adventure to look forward to.  I am not necessarily expecting to blog from Cape Leveque, as I suspect there is no reception. I’ll try to report in before I become a septuagenarian, though.

And still there is one.  Di stands.