The problem is that I am a Doll baby. I like dolls. I had lots and lots and lots of dolls, and still do.
I have precious few fluffies other than quite an array of assorted Mickey Mouses ( or should that be Mickey Mice ?) but I don’t want a companion with a higher profile than me. :)
And the few fluffies I own are all highly sentimental and more problematic… too large.
I can’t lug a larger than lifesized seagull around in my pack, regardless of how much I love it. And despite being roughly the same size as Buzzard, I am loath to take up precious pack space that might be better utilized by perfume, credit cards and lip plumping lip gloss that has botox-like results.
So … the obvious solution is to cast my net wider. Peruse the op shops, raid Millie’s stash ( a tiny Aladar caught my eye, only to be veto-ed by its reluctant owner)or just plain buy some random fluffy’s time and affection.
Time will tell.
So having waded through the plethora of excursion choices and having narrowed down the options, and then ultimately having made decisions about where, and what, I am now faced with the horrible thought that I might well miss out on some stuff that I really really want to do.
Namely snorkeling in
Nothing, I expect, will ever surpass the snorkeling in Fiji. I’ve not ever seen such a wonderland under the surface before or since. Course, I live in QLD and still haven’t snorkeled the northern part of my new state so I might have to review that one day, but to date, that was just breathtakingly awesome. Drop offs like you would not believe all blooming with a garden of corals and plumes of fish sprouting out of the top of each and every one.
The brilliant colours and variety of sea life stretched on forever in the remarkably clear waters in the open ocean surrounding the Islands of the Mamanuca Islands. Dropped over the side of a boat in the middle of the biggest expanse of water I have ever seen…. Nothing but water as far as the eye could see in every direction.
Snorkeling in Tahiti was different, I chose a reef and then spent the better part of two weeks getting to know its inhabitants, one of my favourites being the resident moray eel. I never felt threatened by its teeth or proximity… just a fascinating creature that I treated with respect in its home turf. I never tired of floating in the warm shallow water above the rocks that housed the most amazing array of sea creatures.
At certain times of the day, a large family of Stingrays would feed in the lagoon and I would float an arms length above their flapping wings, observing and hardly breathing lest I spook them and they make a hasty retreat.
Snorkeling in Bali was different again. Mostly because there was limited visibility where we were and the most I saw were crabs, small schools of fish and lots of seaweed. It was still interesting, but for vastly different reasons.
Probably the most dangerous snorkeling because there would have been not a hope in hell of seeing any approaching sharks.
Snorkeling in the frigid waters of southern Victorian beaches requires a wetsuit. I didn’t have one. So forays were brief, the length of which was determined by how long I could stand my blood being turned to ice, and my extremities rendered a startling shade of bluey-purple ( even in the height of summer).
Still, the clear waters of such a cold environment yield wonderful visibility ( on a sunny day) and there was always something to see along the rocks of the oil wharf in Portland Harbour. Lots of crabs, octopi and little stingrays were the biggest quarry for a snorkler there. The image that sticks in my head from Portland is the limpets all over the rocks. Big ones, small ones, all stuck on with cement like grip. I loved how they looked and always enjoyed collecting those ‘little chinaman hats’ on the beach. I have many of them to this day… one of which sits atop the computer I am currently attached to.
I have also snorkeled in South Australian waters… once…. But seriously, unless you want to be white pointer fodder, you are best saving that mask, fins and snorkel ensemble for warmer and more hospitable environs.
On my life list of ‘must do’s’ is to swim with Whale Sharks in WA. I do believe I have enough snorkeling experience for the act of breathing to continue, regardless of the enormity of being faced with a shark the size of several buses. It would have to be second nature, because I am TERRIFIED of sharks ( read- borderline phobic), and I just might forget to exhale.
Not that I would let that stop me.
I’d be in that water in a heartbeat.
The one and only shark I have been face to face with was a little Port Jackson that my Dad caught when fishing. I remember how rough its skin felt – like fine sandpaper.
Its kind of odd that what terrifies me also fascinates me. And even odder that I choose to share sleeping space with a tiger shark fluffy.
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