I would like to preface this post with an expression of deepest sympathy to those wretched bloggers who do not enjoy the optimal blogging conditions in which I created this post: in bed, after coffee, with a freshly-made toasted egg & cheese breakfast sandwich delivered to my Blogging Station by a gorgeous blonde. That is all. Now let’s dive back into my alphabetical foray along the Moreton coast…
D is for…
One reason I love the ocean side of Moreton so much.
Far-off Cape Moreton emerges through another spectacular Moreton dawn.
Glorious golden tones on my final morning, looking towards the Queensland coast.
Dead starfish & cuttlefish bone left by a retreating tide. And some arsehole on a jet-ski.
A dead dolphin not long before dark on the ocean side. A first for me.
I always find at least one dead sea turtle, sometimes three or four.
Deceased cormorant, inner coast.
Dusk, Kooringal. Soon after, I found myself mangroved & was relieved to luck onto a sand “road”.
The constantly changing dunescape, barely held together with nature’s baling wire, sand spinifex.
Wind patterns corrugate the dune surface on the ocean side.
Sun-bleached log on the ocean side, alternately revealed and re-buried by the constant wind.
E is for…
The white-bellied sea eagle (Haliaeetus leucogaster), which ranges from India & Sri Lanka to Australia, is a frequent shadow, particularly on the ocean side.
This one is being chased off by that small but pugnacious bird, from memory either a honeyeater or a noisy miner. Hard to capture this kind of drama without a telephoto!
Probably the same individual. They tend to “see you off” as you walk their beach, always keeping a safe distance, shadowing you till you’re no longer of interest.
F is for…
View from the Mi-Cat ferry as we neared the island. It takes a lot longer for me to reach the ferry terminal near the Brisbane River mouth than to make the trip across the Bay.
The landing zone at The Wrecks. This is looking north — I started south.
(Presumably local) fisherman, Kooringal, Day 1. Tidal flats riddled with crab holes in the foreground.
~ Four-Wheel Drive
If you are on foot, you’re probably aiming for Tangalooma Resort. If not, you’re definitely a rarity, a humanoid exploring a national park ON FOOT. Always pays to glance regularly over your shoulder to avoid becoming road kill.
Near dusk on my final evening as I hurried towards a decent campsite.
G is for…
~ Glass House Mountains
These volcanic plugs north of Brisbane (that’s Tibrogargan 2nd from right, which I’ve featured on TGTW a few times) are a constant feature as you make your way along the northern part of the inner beach. Sunset, final evening.
H is for…
~ Honeymoon Bay
My first visit. Time was short so I didn’t make it to the bay itself, which is squeezed into the north-western corner of the island just past this headland. Cape Moreton in the distance. An illegal village of shanties, now removed, once huddled in the bay.
Drying my sodden gear at the WWII pillbox at Rous Battery after the first rough night.
Trying to nap on the Rous Battery floor was rather unnerving with the largest hunstman spider I’d ever seen (and even the small ones are big) watching me — I swear — from the corner.
I is for…
~ Ipomoea pes-caprae
Railroad vine or goat’s foot, one of the crucial sand stabilisers on Moreton. Its seeds capable of oceanic dispersal, it ranges across the Atlantic, Pacific & Indian Oceans.
Farewell and thanks for the laughs to Rik Mayall, a cornerstone of an early-80s Australian student-slacker/share-house lifestyle for all my friends and I during those great years.
~ And that’s all the Goat wrote