Down by the Beach

It’s a perfect day. I am sitting at a picnic bench three feet from the lapping waters of Noosa river. The kids are happily playing in the shade of a mangrove, digging at the roots and uncoverring what little shore life there is here. They have huge buckets and sandcastle making implements, but are preferring to dig with their hands. The sand is not as clean as Main Beach – so has a fair amount of minerals and mud in it – consequently the are filthy. It’s a great day. Lilly is racing in and out with the waves coming in and Morgan is attempting to jump over them. The river here is very shallow and perfect for families of small children. The depth only varies from ankle deep to waist high over about 20 metres.

Boats are buzzing up and down the waterway, children and frolicking in the water and building entire townships in the muddy sand.. Morgan has started an irrigation system of canals and testing the depth of the channels – attempting to bring water into his towns.

Lillys long cotton dress is sodden and I am reticent to call her in from wading out so far as she is having so much fun. I should really get them to change into their togs.

We have spent three lazy days here and the kids have just loved every min of it. Still have two more when Adrian gets here tonight after work. Our idealic holiday has had a few hiccups. Last night I spent a few hours in emergency in the Noosa hospital. Morgan h

ad swum at Girraween and apparently picked up an infection from the dirty water. I had tried all the natural remedies I had access too – but at 10.30pm with him sweating and screaming, I gave in and sought medical advice. There is only so much that rescue remedy, warmed olive oil and politices will do. I am shocked that there isn’t a chemist from Gympie to Caboolture that is open late at night either – and not one at the hospital either.

I think a few well placed photos will sum up what a wonderful time we have had here. I am a bit sunburnt – despite suncream – but there are parts you just can’t reach and others you forget about. Still – its all getting ready for Fiji…

Morgan and Lilly are now in their togs and just for my sanity I have put on a

floating jacket for Lilly. Its far too small for her – but she is so daring – I can see her swimming out to one of the moored boats and then realizing she can’t reach the bottom. She has been swimming for over a year - but its still a bit wierd for me to see such a little lass so confident in the water... Bless Morgan, he continues to drag her back if she goes further than chest high – and it seems he is doing it full time.. perhaps its time for them to come in for an icecream.. isn’t that what beach holidays are about?

Camping at Giraween

Girraween National Park has always been at my doorstep – growing up nearby typically meant I never visited it. Its only now that I have lived away and rediscovering camping that we have decided to go and visit . We spent three days there and on the first night went to a film night hosted by the rangers finding out a lot about the history and of its allure. Its unique beauty is heightened as many of the plants and animals are endemic to the region and the area serves as a time capsule. Wombats a tiny bat and other small native birds are the furthest northern inhabitant here and are flourishing under the national park rangers care.

We could have chosen between two camp grounds only 500 meters from one another but decided on - Castle Rock as it had shaded treed sites nestled amongst large granite boulders. It was high season during the holidays and the camp ground had been booked out for weeks. Despite this – we only saw a few camper vans or tents at one time and surprisingly it was not particularly noisy either. The namesake of the camp ground – a huge monolith and collection of granite bolders held at any one time at least fifteen monkeys… um kids…, all exploring the caves and crevices. The wonderful comradery of the camp children ensured that even the youngest child was looked after and included in the ever changing games and dynamics of the groups.

Little Miss Bossy Boot Lilly soon had 10 year old girls looking after her and was heard singing nursery rhymes and chanting poems from the highest peaks.

Our campsite has not only flushing loos – a relief to Morgan and Lilly who hate the long drops, but a timed hot water shower – a luxury in most national park camp grounds.

It was within an easy walking distance of the creek a series of water way and billabongs perfect fo a quick dip. The murky slimy green water didn’t entice me – but many campers assured me of the cool delights. Morgan was the only one brave enough to get into the slimy depths and he was icecold when he finally agreed he had had enough.


The walks of Girraween are all one way, with most well graded and maintained. September is the time to visit Girraween with all the wildflowers blooming. The walk to the Junction – where two creeks meet was just the right length for us – we hadn’t gone walking for 2 months and the kids were pretty wingy and tired by the middle of it – the return walk just under 5 kms. The trek out is worth all the whining though. Its truly stunning. I really felt like I had been dropped into one of the Northern Territory gorges a million miles from anywhere. The sheer rock faces and the creeks were stunning ( no crocs though)

Campsites are on relatively flat ground and the rangers are systematically building flattend sites with gravel and backed up with wood. We had a new addition to test out with this camp – a large pergoda totally screened – fantastic – now called our kitchen tent. Freed up lots of space from our own sleeping tent for storage and meant we could keep a table erected with the small stove and other kitchen things out – rather than hide it in the car or stow it into our tent. It was welcome relief too to sit under it in midday and be free from flys and the sun.

We availed ourselves to the chocolate shop only a few kms away and sat in the perfumed gardens sipping iced drinks and savoring the silky chocolate delights.

Animal Rescue - got nothing on me.

Lilly and I were riding around the edge of one of the dams looking for cast ewes or ones hiding in the grass. A movement in the water made me look over and I just assumed it was a fish flicking up. Another small movement at the bank made me stop the bike and look harder. This dam is one that is used for pumping – so has very steep banks and is not graduated – it goes to 20 feet deep very suddenly. The water had dropped a lot in the last month or so – so the waters edge lapped up against mini cliff faces – all of about 3 or 4 feet high. There huddled on a ledge no wider than a few inches wide was a tiny day old lamb. It must have been walking with its mother on the top of the bank and slipped. I can’t imagine how lucky it must have been to have landed on the ledge and not into the water and drowned.

The challenge in front of me was that this skittish lamb was sure to leap into the water and drown if it saw me approach. So commando style, I crawled up the bank and through the grass over the top above the lamb. I had to lay flat and reach down across the incline to a full stretch to be able to get close to the lamb. At the nano second I launched myself further to reach it, I hoped feverently that I would not lose grip on the ground and slide down into the freezing green depths of the dam – lamb in hand. Thankfully this didn’t happen, but I did end up with a struggling, mucus encased lamb in one hand and facing a precarious unbalanced position far too close to the dam waters than I had ever intended to be. A bit of belly crawling backwards saw me sitting on the dam bank covered in mud, gras stains and new lamb poo – but triumphantly with the lamb in arms. The poor little thing was wet and exhausted and I knew that its mother will have given up on it – so took it back to the orphanage – a special set of small pens in the shearing shed where all the orphaned and mis mothered lambs are taken. They are fed and within a few days hopefully matched up with a mother who has lost a lamb or one who can support another.

A special experience for me was to introduce birth to the kids. Mum brought one of the ewes into the hospital paddock – close to the orphanage. She had been cast for hours and had lost strength in trying to lamb. It was getting very dark when we checked on her again – hoping that in a safer spot she’d be able to finish herself. She wasn’t dilated enough and the lambs head was very big. The kids all looked as the legs and tiny nose showed. It took both mum and I to pull – and mum had to assist with the head to come out. The lamb slithered out and covered us in afterbirth. The kids eyes were as large as dinner plates as they watched – and to their credit none of them said yuck or gross.

We all rolled home dirty and smelly – another day on the farm – but a valuable lesson for the kids.

Pici of Jodi and Lilly on one of the bikes.