A new beginning, and our first croc.

After nearly a week in Finch Bay (Cooktown) we could both feel our fibres being woven back into the fabric of society. How easy it would have been to stay in such a beautiful spot, with such a friendly crowd, but it was time to move on even though the wind hadn't quite finished blasting it's way from the South. After the many days of rest, tea, cards and laughter it felt like we were beginning our adventure all over again, with a different family waving us off the beach this time.

At first the paddling was truly terrifying as waves crashed over us and the wind pushed us around like bath toys. We both found our rhythm and after a while we raised the sails for what turned into a wild ride. Leaning into the wind, bracing hard, another wave in the face, while steep, wind-worn mountains and white sandy beaches slowly slid into the distance behind us. The perfect tabletop of Cape Bedford, our beacon, our north-point, loomed above us as we tried to trick the wind into letting us have a quick bite to eat and a pee stop. It is not easy to pee in a kayak in 25 knots of wind.

Another 10km or so later led us to the paradise of Three Islands National Park. We were very carful to minimise our footprint on this haven for our feathered friends and watched the ospreys and brahminy kites patrolling the beaches like prison guards in a maximum security lockup. The waters were teeming with life - we watched, mesmerised, as sharks chased fish while stingrays and shovel-nosed rays played tag around our feet in the shallows.

I drummed up the courage to go for a snorkel but the slightly murky water and mangroves at the end of the beach meant my croc-dar was on high alert so my swim was very brief. This day ended with a glorious sunset on a deserted tropical island and two happy souls feeling quite alive and content that we decided to make this adventure happen.

Downsizing from Three Islands to Two Islands National Park this morning was a gentle 10km of paddling north. Islands appeared on the horizon - the Direction Islands (North and South) and Lizard slightly to the West. The shallow reef surrounding Two Islands was dreamy - crystal clear, colourful coral, turtles and stingrays tearing off in every direction, and so shallow we had to raise our rudders just to cruise through. Could this island be more beautiful than the last? We didn't allow ourselves the time to explore, deciding to head for the next blip on the map, Rocky Islets.

Several hours and thousands of terrified flying fish later, we approached the reef surrounding our destination under the watchful gaze of about a million inquisitive sea birds. The crystal waters and colourful reef finally gave us the confidence to think we had found a spot we could safely dangle our toes in the water for a swim. We pulled up on the beach at what seemed like a fine campsite and prepared to take a cheeky dip.

"Crocodile!!" Lain's eager eyes spotted the confidence-crushing beast. No swimming here. About 50m up the beach from our apparently perfect campsite was a very obvious one-way croc slide all the way up the beach from the current low tide mark. That makes one in the water and one almost in our campsite. We were back in our boats in seconds and off to find a more secluded spot.

I write this from a hammock suspended over the nest holes of hundreds of noisy mutton-birds. Although this is a paradise I suspect that it is the wildlife here that will get a better night's rest than this weary paddler.

Pictures: A Finch Bay Send-off (Jason, Eli, Nico, Peter, Margs, Lain. Ros & Mausey), Three Islands campsite, Approaching Rocky Islets (just near the croc sighting).