Sunken Treasure December 27, 2007
Posted by harlequin in Uncategorized.Tags: banjo shark, dilated, engagement, fooled, king george whiting, marry, polished, proposal, proposed, ring, snorkeling, stash, swimming, treasure
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Nervous but intent, we arrived at Frankston beach. It was not necessarily hot, but rather warm and the staggeringly beautiful conditions were perfect for what I had in mind for the afternoon come twilight conclusion. Within moments of plonking our gear upon the sand, ‘Special K’ starts rummaging through the side-pocket of my backpack. A sensation of alarm rose through my spine, my dreams of fruition this day, this night, quashed upon her possible discovery. A tentative inconspicuous performance prevented her from stumbling upon the secret.
‘Let me put your glasses away for you, Tash!’ Phew! I sighed as she flip-flopped away toward the water in our new snorkeling gear.
The determination as not to draw excessive attention to a valuable object, I placed the polished wooden box in a sealable bag and slipped it into my shorts pocket. She looked back and saw me heading toward the water with flippers and snorkel in hand. A closer observation would reveal a protruding lump from my leg pocket, but even from her vicinity – without her glasses – Special K could not see very well.
Truly, the water was perfect; warm yet refreshingly cool in places. The sun perched upon the cliffs of Olivers Hill, waiting almost in anticipation of the surprise itself. Special K was a fair way out, though she did not realise it at that stage. The tide was low, it seemed to take forever to get to some decent depth and all the while I held on to my pocket tightly hoping the item didn’t dislodge. When the water reached the top of my chest, I called out to Special K.
‘Tash, there’s something shining underwater here! It could be some sunken treasure!’ I dived under to make it look like I was grabbing it from the sea floor, but while under, brought the bag out of my pocket.
She headed back toward me, rather astonished she’d been out so far and declared ‘What’s that?’ She thought I’d stumbled onto some junkie’s hidden stash. When she was a foot or two away from me, she could plainly see it was a box of some description. She really was fooled, she had no idea what was inside, until I said ‘I think you should open it.’ At which point, her eyes dilated and as soon as she opened the box and saw the three diamond engagement ring, she knew from that moment, that this was a very special day for a very Special K.
‘Will you marry me Tash?’ to which she replied ‘Yes, yes, oh god yes!’
Following the very successful proposal, we swam together hand-in-hand hovering above a rummaging Banjo Shark (possibly trying to find its bag of drugs), adjacent a school of King George Whiting and a Port Phillip Swimmer Crab trying to bury itself before we passed overhead.
new gear makes all the difference December 9, 2007
Posted by harlequin in Uncategorized.Tags: adventure, concrete, darkness, decimated, devastated, dolphin, fish, flippers, panic, pier, rotten, skewer, snorkeling, swimming, toad, underwater, unnerving, valve
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Uncertain of how to walk, let alone swim in our new ‘top-notch’ snorkeling gear, we trod backwards into the tide. I think the steady motion of the waves and the protruding flippers kept our balance. The new gear came at a great cost, though I believe through all our underwater experiences, it was well worth the amount spent and soon afterward that realisation became apparent. It could naturally be expected, with the greater length and surface area of the professional flippers that our swimming speed can be greatly enhanced.
This took some getting used to: for a start, the flippers were a little loose and so adjustments were a common affair, even in deeper water; the flippers slapped together on each successive motion and the momentum was lost, this meant some careful coordination to provide greater thrust; undeveloped muscles and difficult movements previously unused resulted in chafing and rapid deterioration of energy. It took a good few hours to devise some powerful movements and when these were performed, the speed and ease of gliding through the water was amazing. Couple that with superior goggles, which allow us to see a greater depth of field and properly seal against leaks, it’s the makings of a recipe of fun.
Most importantly, the snorkel allows three great new features, I had otherwise in my ignorance, little understanding about: a shut-off valve at the top of the breathing apparatus, which prevents the intake of copious water; jettison valve at the base of the snorkel, to release any water caught in the snorkel; looks really cool.
With this upgrade in technology we were able to swim out further to explore and experiment with our gear. It was late afternoon again, not as late as the previous story, but late enough to have lost a great deal of sunlight, even for such an overcast day. The depth still scares me and more so the unknown lurking beyond the navy curtain. At this part of Canadian Bay, the beach is ruptured in sand bars and slanting rock slides, so that swimming horizontally seems somewhat like diagonally. It was during this confusing optical illusion of the sand bank, that a school of tiny fish some thousand strong charged past. Flabbergasted to say the least, they seemed almost tropical in their colour and markings, as such with fright and an unexpected curiosity, I expelled numerous bubbles through the base of the snorkel. They darted quickly, averting the docile cloud of streaming bubbles, this caught Miss Tash off guard. Like birds, they flew in perfect formation, even during the relentless stirring I displayed and secretly I lament; had I brought a skewer, I’d have enough to make at least one fish finger. Other than this, the left-hand side of the bay was surprisingly dull. Reefs of seaweed and vegetation were devastated by the swarming starfish, littered almost in piles amongst outcroppings of lithospheric examples.
From a previous trip to this same area, we knew that the other side of the bay had two piers and a greater, flatter expanse to explore. It was now approaching dusk and getting rather ‘cool’, when Miss Tash and I delved further out toward the blackened shelf of mollusk encrusted poles supporting the minor pier. The unnerving darkness beneath the pier got the better of Miss Tash as she would not swim too close, but my curiosity could not pull me away. One could not simply believe the amount of crap lying under that pier; tyres, pistons, engines, crates, bolts, nuts, hooks and concrete slabs with people tied to them; the usual stuff. We took off toward a sweeping hill of sea vegetation, all decimated and rotten, this held no appeal whatsoever.
Panic stricken, as my flipper came loose, I grappled the strap back on and tightened the harness. With the momentum gathered from deft movements to catch up with Miss Tash, I adopted the motion of a dolphin, by clasping my feet together and bobbing my head up and down, this actually worked quite well. During this, a small fish launched from beneath the sand away from my looming shadow, quickly followed by numerous others at shorter intervals. I knew these as toad fish and only just worked out why they were called this: they look like toads hiding in the sand and they’re ugly.
We swam around a little longer until dusk, when Melbourne decided summer had to make way for winter this night. Shivering uncontrollably, I lurched icily into Mt. Eliza fish and chippery for some evening grub, where they were kind enough to deactivate the air conditioning long enough to prepare the meal. Awesome chips and an even more remarkable day.
