Change In Plans

SNORKEL BABES

Greetings from Lord Howe Island!  We are roughly 600 kilometers northeast of Sydney, on a small volcanic rock in the Pacific Ocean.  Actually, we are told that LHI is seven volcanic peaks connected by sand dunes.  This seems like a lot of peaks, given that the island is so tiny; only 11 kilometers long and 1-2 kilometers wide.

Landing on Lord Howe Island was wild.  The turboprop descended into nothing but ocean for a long time, then we threaded the needle between two steep green mountains, and then landed on a runway on the only flat, grassy spot on the island.  The beach was about 10 meters from the port wingtip.

Lord Howe Island feels and looks as remote as it is:  kind of like Gilligan’s Island meets South Pacific with the emerald hills of Ireland and no betel nuts (as far as I can tell).  The beaches are all very beautiful white sand or black volcanic rock, and the shore line is protected by coral reefs.  There are palm trees along the beaches, and dense rain forests in the interior.  There are lots of dirt paths leading to hidden coves or single-story homes in the forest.  A few cows wandering around heightens the rural feel.  LHI is almost aggressively undeveloped and non-commercial.

Interestingly, as in New Zealand, there are no indigenous mammals here.  When the British first landed, in 1788, there were only birds, fish, and a few reptiles.

Except for birdsong and the very occasional car, it is quiet.  LHI is a World Heritage Site, which seems justifiable, in case anyone asks our opinion. 

LHI has only 350 residents, and the island council has limited the number of paying guests to 400 on any given night.  To stay out of the winter wind and spray, all of the lodges or residences have been built away from the water.  None of the buildings even have very good views.  We are staying at a small retreat called Arajilla (www.arajilla.com.au), where all 12 of the bungalows are hidden in the dense rain forest, about 30 meters from the beach.  Think “Mosquito Coast” rather than “From Here to Eternity.”

There are few cars, and only one main paved road.  Aside from the post office and two cafes, the island’s limited commerce (boat tours, fishing charters, surf-board rentals) is conducted from a half-dozen corrugated shacks on the beach front.  Most people seem to get around on bicycles, which are called “push bikes” for some unknown island reason.  Everyone wears helmets on the push-bikes, because LHI’s lone police officer enforces the helmet law very aggressively.  There is a primary school: we saw tan, barefoot children in their uniforms heading home this afternoon.

The island receives supplies every other week from a small freighter, which had just docked near the airstrip when we arrived.  Someone told us that the following day’s meals are always the best, but to be careful on the day that the freighter docks, because the restaurants “have to get rid of all their old stuff.”

The island’s small size, remoteness and affluence create a culture of trust-based innocence.  The bicycles are all left unlocked,  and we were not even given a key to our bungalow.  When we buy things, merchants say, “It’s OK if you don’t have any money. Just come back and pay me later.”  One of the beaches even has an honor system  (a cash box, like a roadside farm stall) for renting snorkeling equipment, wet suits and bodyboards.  Never seen that before.

After we got settled in yesterday morning, Zola and I walked down through the rainforest path and onto the beach.  We found two huge green sea turtles in the shallow water, and swam around with them for a while.  Amazing.  After lunch, we went on a “2 Snorkel Stop Glass-Bottom-Boat Cruise.”  The boat’s owner was a young and very friendly guy named Anthony.  He mentioned that his family had been on Lord Howe Island since 1853.  The ads for all of the tourist activities seem to emphasize how many generations the guide’s family has lived on the Island.  

Anthony’s ancestor moved here from the U.S., which leads me to speculate that he might have been in trouble with the law.  This would have been a good place to hide.  Anthony told us that LHI was a great place to grow up - the island is danger-free (no predators or snakes or “kidnappings and stuff”) - so kids can run wild and free.   That is, until they turn 12 and get sent to the mainland for boarding school.  Anthony stayed in Sydney for university and for a few years of work before moving home to LHI.  He is the only one of his primary-school classmates who has moved back.

The snorkeling trip was fun.  Both kids were wide-eyed when they saw colorful fish from the glass-bottom boat, as we cruised out over coral formations in the big lagoon on the island’s north side.  

At the first snorkeling site, Zola and I went in, and India and Tallulah stayed on the boat with Anthony.  We swam about 200 meters from the boat, into the breaking waves on the reef.  We saw an incredible amount of beautiful coral (called “blue staghorn” as I found out) and loads of fish.  Zola was brave and delighted, shrieking and grabbing me every time he saw an interesting fish.  India said she could hear him, even through his snorkel, from about 100 meters away.

THE MATE WAS MIGHTY SAILOR MAN

After about 40 minutes, we got back in the boat, and motored to the second snorkeling site.  India and Zola went in the water.  Then Tallulah, the littlest snorkeler, decided that she wanted to try as well.  Wearing a wetsuit one size too big, and clutching a pool noodle for extra buoyancy, she stayed in the water for about half an hour.  She kept her face in, and giggled as she looked at the fish.   A brave little girl!

We motored around looking for turtles for a while in the turquoise bay, and then Anthony took us back to shore.  It was the perfect amount of time on the water.  

From the cruise, we rode our bikes over to Ned’s Beach, where people feed bread crumbs to the fish every afternoon.  We got in the shallow water, and big fish were all around us.  Most were some type of blue fish, about 30-40 centimeters long, but there were also kingfish (looking a lot like yellowtail) which were a meter or more.   Much bigger than Tallulah.

After we got over the creepiness factor (fish brushing against our legs), it was fun to look at them.  A kind grandmother gave us some bread, and we set off multiple feeding frenzies.  Both kids thought this was just great.

Yesterday, the weather was perfect.  Today it turned overcast and windy, so we spent the morning watching movies and waiting for the rain.  Arajilla has a selection of 88 DVDs, and the kids picked “E.T.” and “Splash,” both classics.  Tallulah cried when she thought E.T. was dead, and spent a lot of the afternoon telling us “Be Good!” and calling Zola “Ell-ee-utt.”  

We went for a bike ride in the late afternoon, all the way down to the north end of the island.  We got off of the bikes, and walked for about a kilometer on a dirt track next to the ocean to the base of Mount Gower, the highest point on the island.  At this point, the long-threatened rain started to come down in buckets.  We all ran back to the bikes, laughing and shouting, then pedaled furiously back to our side of the island.  Since we were already wet, we went down to feed the fish at Ned’s Beach again.   

Despite the rain, we were all in good humor by the time we got back to Arajilla.   After hot showers we went to dinner.  In a rare move, Tallulah fell asleep at the table.  Now India, Zola, and I are huddled on the sofa.  A nice ending to a damp day in the Pacific.

LORD HOWE ISLAND