We dipped our paddles into the mounting waves, our boat picked up momentum and we joined the rest of the group. Once we had all safely left shore (only one bloke tipped his boat and had to climb back in), we began our trek across the open waters. With the current pushing from one side […]
We dipped our paddles into the mounting waves, our boat picked up momentum and we joined the rest of the group. Once we had all safely left shore (only one bloke tipped his boat and had to climb back in), we began our trek across the open waters. With the current pushing from one side and the wind blowing from the other, we were able to paddle on a relatively straight course. As wave after wave lifted our boat up ridges and dropped us down into troughs, my vision narrowed to my double-ended paddle and the closest incoming wave. My world contracted to this existence of paddling from side to side. I could feel my shoulders working through the stroke and my wrists pulling against the water’s resistance. Salt water splashed my face, drenched my arms and lifted and dropped the boat. It wet my lips and the wind whipped my cheeks. I was completely absorbed by the immediate experience.
As the afternoon passed, I started to glance up. At first I could only see more waves, waiting for their turn to toss the boat. When cresting a wave, I sometimes saw a fellow kayaker nodding to us, and as my vision widened, I could see the far shore. Our strokes gradually evened, out and as the tide dropped the waves slackened their intensity. The shore still seemed quite far away, but after braving a backwards glance I realized we were more than halfway across.
Both Ben and I could breath more easily. We had met the challenge of the waves, and we could see that our efforts were going to be rewarded. Blakesley Beach wasn’t far ahead, so we began to inspect our watery environment. From the boat, we could spot sea turtles and dugongs (sea cows) as they surfaced for air. They were feeding on the rich sea grasses growing on the bay’s floor.
We finally pulled up to the beach and looked back across where we had just paddled. The sense of pride and accomplishment could only be matched by the awe of seeing bottlenose dolphins playing close to shore. Their backs would gracefully arch out of the water as they cut through the oncoming waves. Just down the beach, two English fishermen were reeling in a stingray. After a close inspection, they returned it to the ocean. As it gracefully swept away, we turned to the treed area where we would pitch our tent and stake out our "million dollar views".
The next morning’s early sunrise brought the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and a tasty breakfast prepared by our guides. While waiting for the tides to turn the current in our favour, we had a couple of hours to spare before pushing off. Most of the group went hiking, but Ben wanted to do some fishing from the beach. After learning to use a "yabby pump" to suck up the crayfish-like bait, I took a rod and joined Ben standing in the surf. Although we only caught some mud and grass, Ben assures me we could have caught brim, whiting or flathead.
While strolling back to our camp, I paused to speak to a couple who were originally from Sydney. They were now living in Brisbane and spending their weekends exploring the Moreton Bay Islands. After three years, they felt that they had barely scratched the surface of what the Bay has to offer.
After bidding farewell to our beautiful campsite, we paddled along Straddie’s western shoreline and saw the sand mining operations on the high dunes. Although they carved enormous gashes into the pure white sand, we could see that the previously mined dunes were peppered with revegetation.
Later in the journey, we paddled beside Garden Island and its dense mangrove shores. To cope with the tide that continually licks their bases, mangrove seedlings actually grow on the parent tree. Once they have established adequate root systems, the seedlings fall and take root wherever the tide deposits them. Beside the mangroves, our boats slipped silently through the still, sheltered water. As my arms pumped rhythmically from side to side, I felt the peace that comes from being so intimate with the water. It was hard to believe we were so close to urban Brisbane and the busy channels of the larger bay.
On our final crossing back to the mainland, I reflected on our weekend adventure. On one day, we had conquered unruly waves and saw a variety of wildlife, and on the next we had paddled through calm waters and along beautiful beaches and mangroves. By dropping to sea level and paddling a kayak, we had made the most of our Moreton Bay experience and discovered one of Australia’s lesser known gems.
Ben and I paddled with the Aussie Sea Kayak Company. You can visit their site at www.ausseakayak.com.au.