Cycling in Tropical Queensland. During the wet season. About once an hour. Stop. Bus shelters ideal. Off boots. Pour water out. Remove socks. Wring out. Replace. Pedal away.
Ken's Blog
Dem boots
April 1st, 2011Cyclone slip knot
April 1st, 2011
Dates from the days of Captain Cook. Cyclone slip knot. Devised to allow sailing ships to proceed from their moorings during tropical storms. Without the need for buoy jumpers. Rather, the ordinarily very secure knot slipping itself once winds reach something roughly equating to a Category One Cyclone. And just as effective for camping.
Crocodilus domesticus
April 1st, 2011
Estuarine. Saltwater. All different species of crocodilus. Crocodiles. To which, quite a few million years later, has been added crocodilus domesticus. Rarely growing to more than a metre in length, this genetically engineered critter makes for a very robust, if unusual, pet.
Like a parrot, its longevity – it’s very likely to outlive you – means you’d be wise to provide for it in your Will. Chlorine tolerant, any need for a specially constructed habitat is avoided. A small outdoor swimming pool being more than sufficient. And its passive, if playful, nature makes it ideal for small children. Always a favourite for pool parties.
Record breaking
March 31st, 2011
They mean it. Wettest wet season in a decade. Mostly, it seems, on my head. Trust me on this one. Even if I’m not a doctor. Rocket scientist actually….
Perilous precipitation
March 31st, 2011
Difficult to comprehend. Over half a metre – something like twenty inches – of rain in just a few days. Flash floods. Local woman swept to her death. To the south, Cardwell. Devastated recently by Cyclone Yasi. Now submerged by swollen rivers. The Barron reaching a thirty year high. Main highway south closed. Trains disrupted. Far north Queensland cut off. Yet more extreme weather. Another example to add to my ever growing list. Tick.
I’d headed out of Cairns. Up into the Atherton Tablelands. Cooler than the coast. But, being over a thousand feet above sea level, invariably wetter. Frequently lost in cloud. There’d been talk of a storm as I’d left. An emotional departure. Leaving friends behind at the hostel. Assuring them I’d keep in touch. Their concerns about the weather seemed unfounded. Until later. Lightening. Torrential rain. Fortunate to be staying under cover.
After the storm
March 31st, 2011After the storm from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.
Ken ventures into proper, wild rainforest. After a spot of rain the previous night. About six inches. Sadly, sweeping one local resident to her death.
In flood
March 31st, 2011In flood from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.
It’d take a brave soul to kayak over these falls. The river supposedly at its highest level for over three decades.
Margins of society
March 30th, 2011I’d relished the return to hostelling. Back living amongst real people. Fellow travellers. And longer term residents. For most the only affordable accommodation. Or just plain convenient. Some down on their luck. Others victims of circumstances. Troubled. Sometimes of their own making. Teetering on the margins of society. But interesting people. Individuals. With depth. Colour. Once you get to know them.
A few alcoholics. Incoherent under the influence. But when sober. Invariably good humoured. If a little dark. Very aware of their destruction they’re waging on their own bodies. The brave ones facing up to their demons. Seeking professional help. Path to recovery. Probably longer, tougher than my own journey. Maybe.
Others beyond redemption. Intravenous drug addicts. A rarity. Their invariably secretive nature making them difficult to spot. Quickly exhausting the tolerance I might show for those partaking of less addictive substances. Those that don’t normally draw users into criminal behaviour. Feeding their habit. Law enforcement issue. No exceptions.
Ramblings
March 30th, 2011If you’ve been following me on Facebook you may have spotted I’m quite fond of posting short "What’s on your mind" entries. Tough. Brevity doesn’t come easy for me. Nor does political correctness. Careful though not to cause offence. Aware that not everyone’s a fan of social media, a few of my favourite ramblings are reproduced below. Enjoy.
"Wondering how koalas mate? Asleep most of the day, stoned out of their tiny minds when actually awake. It’s not as if they live on an inner city council estate…"
"Never mind the traffic on Queensland’s roads, it’s the dead, bloated cane toads you have to look out for. Explode when you run over them. Not funny. Especially when you don’t have a front mudguard"
"Bit of a Charlie Sheen moment. But without the wild parties, wanton women and all the other Hollywood excesses. Instead I’d simply given a frank interview to a local TV station. Admitted I was "nuts". Suppose I’d better check into re-hab."
"Tully, Mission Beach, Cardwell. Devastated by Cyclone Yasi. Now submerged by swollen rivers. Compounded by an outbreak of Dengue Fever. Sounds like a cue for a Royal visit. I’ll look out for the bunting."
"Australian English. For all its close similarity to The Queen’s English, there are a few pitfalls. Try asking for rooting compost in a garden centre. Only to find yourself directed to the nearest chemist. Presuming you’re after organic Viagra. And firm marrows."
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A lost people?
March 30th, 2011Story so far…. Struggling what to make of Aborigines. The indigenous people. Encounters haven’t exactly been encouraging. Sitting around. Often drunk. Not infrequently rude and abusive. But not stupid. Collectively very capable at playing the system. Knowing which buttons to press. And how hard.
Formulaic. Start with the premise that the wider society owes you something. Stick doggedly with this. Doesn’t matter if the injustices you rely on to assert your case for positive discrimination are now just historical footnotes. Actually, it helps. Much easier to distort faded memories in your favour than fresh recollections.
Dissenting voices are easily dealt with. Play the Race card. Or, better still, recruit a "do-gooder" from the same ethnic group as the opposition. A misguided apologist. Get them to do it for you. Gives accusations of racial discrimination, of prejudice, much more credence. No matter how unfounded.
Tongue-in-cheek? A little. But if there’s one place you can be sure of finding those harbouring prejudice based on race, then it’s amongst race relations practitioners or supposedly dispossessed minorities. Usually so blinkered they’re unable to see the irony…
For my own part, I’m sticking to some simple principles in my efforts to understand the Aborigines. Everyone an individual. To be judged on their own merit. But not a soft touch. Hard facts rather than emotional fiction. And never an apologist for history. The search continues…
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