The tasty rudder.

I think a submarine internet cable must have broken in the recent QLD floods and the Archipaddlo blog has been leaking into the reef. At least the sharks seem to have read my last entry and decided that it was a written invitation to have a chomp onto my boat.

Paddling from Bird Island (yes, there were huge numbers of birds) to Little Boydong Island (perhaps named by a Catholic priest) I was enjoying the sensation of not being able to see land in any direction, just a flat horizon. Wham! The stern of my boat was launched from the water by about a foot and shoved hard sideways. I turned to see a large grey shark, probably a tiger-mako-great white-hammerhead-whaler (famous in these parts) hungrily following my flimsy kayak. I have to admit that the surge of adrenaline in my system was quite a lot more than you might experience passing through a speed camera doing a few kms over the limit.

As is often the case after experiencing a big burst from the adrenals, I was somewhat disappointed after the event. I was quite happy that all of my limbs were still attached but I was expecting my rudder to now resemble a cheap surfboard from the set of Jaws IV, with a perfectly curved, and impressively big bite mark taken from the side, perhaps even the odd tooth still imbedded in the polycarbonate. Alas, there is barely a scratch, not even a macro lens can do it justice.

When a shark hit me the second time several days later I barely even got excited. You sharks are going to have to try harder! Oh, how I hope they have fixed that internet cable!!

On a different note, I need to make a correction to an oversight I made on my previous update. I mentioned that we stayed a night in a flashy resort, well, yes but no. I suppose technically we did stay in a resort. We were offered the "Beach House" which was a beautiful but rustic New Guinean style 'cabin' that was more like a tree-sided shelter. Due to the recent rains the mosquito population in this little pocket of the island was particularly numerous and I suspect that we may have been offered the hut as a peace offering to the local mozzies, and to keep them away from the guests (no disrespect, Roy, the hut was awesome, thanks).

So our night in 5 star luxury actually consisted of Lain and I pitching the inner of our tent inside the hut and sleeping on the floor with the fumes of a mozzie coil scenting the air for hours. What a great time to discover that Lain's mattress now has a leak (I have fixed 4 holes in mine already) - she woke with the pattern of the floorboards pressed into her hips. Luxury!