Lat: 10 48.643′ S
Long: 141 43.436′ E

It’s Thursday afternoon, and we are sailing toward the Wessel Islands in pretty ideal conditions. The water just north of the Northern Peninsula Area (NPA) is a beautiful turquoise dotted with little green islands, and we are spinnaker sailing with 15 knots from the southeast.

We enjoyed our brief stay in Seisia. We lazed around on Tuesday morning, apparently still catching up after two nights at sea, and then went ashore for internet (high speed at the RV park office — oh yeah) and a bit of provisioning. That evening we went in search of an ant hill to photograph, and we didn’t have to walk too far to find some taller than us. (Dallas just had to show this city girl how to scoot through a barbed wire fence.) It really blows my mind how cooperative these tiny little ants must be to achieve something so large.

Yep, that’s an anthill!

We had already walked a fair distance toward the nearby metropolis of Bamaga and decided to try to hitch-hike the rest of the way to check out "the haps" at the tavern. We had only waited 5 minutes for a ride the day before but didn’t have any luck on this occasion, probably because it was almost completely dark! I can see how nighttime is not well suited for getting a lift from strangers. We’re new at this.

We stopped at the wharf on the way back to the boat and found several locals and holiday-makers fishing. We spoke to a really nice mother and son from Melbourne who showed me how to use a jigger to catch bait fish (there were hundreds of them swimming right next to the wharf). I also learned a new word from them to add to my ever-growing list of Aussie/Kiwi/British slang: "grass". No, they weren’t offering us illegal substances, they were simply saying how cool our trip around the world was — "that’s grass!" They were in the midst of a 6-week family holiday and had driven their 4×4 up through the center of Oz. Their two boys are able to get school credit for the blogs that they are writing along the way, which sounds like a great idea to me.

They told us about a traditional Aboriginal dance performance that was to take place the following night at the local fishing club, and after some deliberation, Dallas and I decided to stick around for another day to check it out. It turned out to be a good decision, not so much for the dancing (although it was cool) but for the time that we were able to spend with another Aussie, a 50-something liveaboard named Brett. He spent several years in the States, including a few years working as a pilot for Continental in Houston. As that is the port listed on the stern of our boat, he was naturally inclined to come by and say hello (while Dallas was working on the carburetor of the outboard again!). He brought over a few cold beers, and he and Dallas yarned away (see what I mean about the slang?) about everything boat-related, from the proper way to set the anchor to the loss of .3 amps for every amp put into the house bank (this was news to me). He was bright and down-to-earth and had a couple of hair-raising stories from his pilot days. He also had insight into the differences between American and Aussie cultures. For example, he raised his step-sons in Oz so that they would learn how to be self-sufficient (e.g., to fish and hunt) and then sent them to the U.S. to develop their real-world work ethic. Anyway, he was great company, and I could tell that Dallas was really pleased to have someone other than me to talk to for the first time in 10 days!

Regarding the dance performance last night, it was in fact very traditional, but the dancers were young boys (aged 6 or 7) and teenage girls (aged 10-17), so it wasn’t like watching the professionals in Polynesia. I tried talking to one of the teenage girls after the performance about the absence of guys. She was busy texting and just said "they’re at home". The Aboriginal situation here is so complex and long-standing that I would not do it justice by trying to describe it in a short blog, but what I’ve heard about the history of the government’s attempts to remedy the problem (e.g., the "Stolen Generations", the massacre in Tasmania) is pretty shocking.

Traditional Aboriginal dance

We have about 300 miles to go to the Wessels, which are supposed to be pristine and beautiful. We haven’t seen any awe-inspiring, natural beauty for a whole 4 or 5 days (must be a record!), so we’re looking forward to it.