The Reef

I recognize this will drive Kathy crazy but ... Back to Uncle Drew!

The day after Drew arrived, we forced him to get back on a plane and fly to Cairns.  We figured, hey you slept from 10 pm to 3 am after a 28 hour transit ... you should be good.  We arrived in Cairns without incident and headed out for a walk along the boardwalk.  What is most surprising is that Drew does not appear homicidal or unconscious in this picture despite the fact that he was probably both.

This photo represents the sum total of affection shown between our twins during the trip.

It looks so sweet, doesn't it?

What you don't know is there was at least an 80% chance that Lily was going for a headlock and missed.






Drew and I walked along the boardwalk and I pointed out the sights, which included this warning sign.  It's a lot like the town of Amity from Jaws.  Hey, come on over to our croc and jellyfish infested beaches.  We've got GELATTO!


Drew and I walked a bit in silence, each lost in our own thoughts about life, children, politics, and possibly the Pacific Trash Vortex.

Then Drew turned to me and said "you really think there's crocs down there?"  He squinted off into the distance.  "Because I don't see any.  And I figure I'd see a croc if there was a croc down there."

I thought about his logic and then pointed out that a tourist destination seems unlikely to post hazardous signs everywhere unless there is a hazard.

Drew responded by saying "What do you think would happen if I climbed down that ladder?"

I said, "I think I'd get to see a croc."

We never had a chance to test that hypothesis because Drew was distracted by a playground with an even more chilling sign.  It likely explained the architect's overzealous use of brown on the playground equipment.

This is a sign that essentially provides a groundbreaking heads up that babies shit unexpectedly.  The necessity of this sign caused me to question the innate goodness of humans.

The next morning, we headed off to the Great Barrier Reef!  Well, not immediately.  There was a brief delay during which Drew and I waited outside for Amy and the kids (who left about three minutes before us).  After ten minutes, I began to worry that maybe "wait outside" had been confusing.  I returned to the apartment lobby and after a brief but frantic search found Amy waiting for me half a block in the wrong direction.  This happens more often than you'd expect by chance.


The weather that morning was ominous, with a 70% chance of precipitation and a 100% chance of twin meltdown.  Within a ten minute walk to the dock, we had already exhausted both of my entertaining anecdotes and I'd already answered the question "when will we get there" six times.  At the time of this picture, I had resorted to shouting "WE GET THERE WHEN WE GET THERE" to all questions.  I asked them to pose for a picture, figuring there was at least a 50/50 chance they'd fall in and I could make a break for it.

Just after leaving, the weather started to clear.

Drew filled out his diving forms while Lily asked about all of the potential dangers associated with snorkeling.  At each answer, she looked at us like we were insane.

"You breathe through a TUBE?!"

and

"We have to wear a suit because of STINGERS?"

and

"There could be SHARKS?!"








Tessa lost no time suiting up.

THERE COULD BE SHARKS!!!!!"

Our first dive spot, Michaelmas Cay.  As we approached, the captain asked if anyone on board was afraid of birds.  Afraid of birds? we sniggered.  Who's afraid of birds.  Well, whoever the poor bastard was, they had a bad time at the Cay.  There were hundreds, if not thousands, of loud and disgruntled sea birds nesting on this strip of sand.  Our goal was to get out of the boat onto the sand and get into the water before we were attacked by the birds.  I was pretty sure I got a good shot of the birds until I looked at my photos.  They're all to the left. 

Drew telling me he is not afraid of birds.  Or showing me the sign for "shark."

I went on two dives and (to everyone's surprise) managed to surface on both of them.  The most simultaneously impressive and startling creature was a jellyfish the size of a popcorn bowl.  It probably tells you a lot about me to know that I often judge the size and weight of objects in relation to a popcorn bowl.  The jellyfish just floated there in the dark, watching me.  Pulsing with an evil purple light.  Och.  Been reading too much Rowan of Rin.  No one ever told me the sign for jellyfish so I just started thrashing around and blowing bubbles out of my regulator.  Although the dive guide ignored me, the bubbles effectively blew the jellyfish into deeper waters.

There was also a fish that nibbled parasites off of other fish.  Our dive guide had us hold our hands out so the fish could do some nibbling.  I have to say, it spent a lot more time on Drew's hand than I expected.

When I came up from my second dive, Tessa grabbed my arm and said "Daddy, why didn't you say hi to me?"  Apparently, she was snorkeling immediately above where Drew and I were diving and was shouting "Dad!  Dad!  Dad!"  She was apparently pretty pissed that I ignored her.

After some exhausting snorkeling, Tessa spent a good amount of time contemplating the ceiling.

A little uncle time.

Drew is incredibly psyched in this picture.  After the trip, he told us that his primary goal was to avoid barfing in the bathroom of the boat.  After watching him grip the side of the boat in a pale, sweaty, desperate manner, that was pretty much everyone's primary goal.  We all pitched in to get him a certificate for not vomiting.

Lily, the consummate professional, even found some time to practice for an upcoming regional meet.

As a final note, I hate Subway.  I hate hate hate Subway.  Subway is run by sadists who seem to know that my children will only eat Subway sandwiches and, in anticipation of that, close all Subway locations in Cairns but neglect to tell the locals, who keep directing us to another Subway location.  So, just as a hypothetical, imagine Uncle Drew, Tessa and I walking around Cairns (after a day snorkeling/diving) sweaty and despairing and dazed in an ultimately fruitless quest for a sandwich that would pass muster with a picky six year old.

The only thing we managed to find was bats.  Hundreds of fruit bats roughly the size of my head chirping merrily above us.




This is probably the part of the blog where Kat is saying "oh c'mon.  Bats?  Really?"

Well, they're either bats or flying possums.  You decide which is creepier.