I'm still adjusting to being back in a city and a house that is not overrun with mice. At night, there are no penguin calls to provide the treble to the deep rumbling bass of surge pounding granite. Wind does not howl through the turbine outside my window. I am not down at the dock by dawn watching sea eagles hunt and falcons hover motionless in counterpoint to the fluttering of the kestrels' wings.
I'm at a loss of what to say other than it was completely awesome. I loved being out there, even though the toilet was 200m away down the hill in the dark and the mice would thump around my room chewing through everything at night. I miss the wild solitude of the place and am already scheming my return. I posted some photos here and hope to write up more in the next few days.
April 22, 2008
Return
I just returned from three weeks on Gabo Island, which is in far eastern Victoria near - well, not near much of anything. One could almost walk from the island to the mainland, though once on the mainland it would be a serious walk through national park to reach the nearest town of Mallacoota, population 1000.
March 30, 2008
March 21, 2008
Boulders metaphorical and actual
I've just spent seven days out in the field and accomplished the equivalent of one day's worth of work. I'm not nearly as frustrated as I would expect. I still care deeply about my project but no longer care about the day-to-day setbacks. And boy are there a lot of them. I've been working down at Wilsons Prom where I haven't been able to gather enough hands to push the boat into the water off a beach that's a 3-minute drive from my cabin. Instead, I've been using a launch ramp that's a 1.5 hour drive away by road, and then a 2-3 hour drive by boat. On Tuesday these numbers added up to make a 14 hour day in which only 2.5 hours were spent doing research. A businessman would describe this as extremely low ROI and urge that you invest your monies elsewhere.
Also on Tuesday, half of my thumb went numb while I was holding on to the throttle of the boat. At first I thought it had gone to sleep, but considering it's yet to wake up I can only assume that it's a nerve rather than blood issue. Or it's really hungover and needs a good long nap.
Despite the long boat ride, Wednesday was a day that reminded me why I'm doing this sort of work. The ride down the east coast of the Prom in the early morning light was gorgeous: steep tree-clad slopes pitching down to meet the water in a line of rounded rosy granite boulders. Sitting on turquoise waters between camera drops watching surf wash up on crescents of yellow sand. A dive that was tropical in clarity: those same rosy boulders forming steep underwater cliffs down to soft sand, the sides covered in undulating kelp. A school of 100+ silvery salmon slowly circling me, my bubbles making a hole in a swirling salmon donut. Days like these act as intermittent reinforcement and keep me going. It would appear that I only need a couple a month - I'm not a very demanding person.
In the middle of all of this I feel a strong well of confidence lurking just under the surface, a bit like one of those boulders I suppose. It makes me feel solid and allows me to achieve a Buddhist-like detachment when it comes to delays. The confidence is there because I'm actually getting stuff done; despite immense hurdles and set backs I'm actually pulling off this project. I can't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment. I received a lot of positive comments after I gave a talk to the department a couple of weeks ago, which has also contributed to my general well-being. I guess I am like a pet: all I need to be happy is intermittent reward, positive reinforcement, love and food.
Well, almost happy. I would also like my thumb back.
Also on Tuesday, half of my thumb went numb while I was holding on to the throttle of the boat. At first I thought it had gone to sleep, but considering it's yet to wake up I can only assume that it's a nerve rather than blood issue. Or it's really hungover and needs a good long nap.
Despite the long boat ride, Wednesday was a day that reminded me why I'm doing this sort of work. The ride down the east coast of the Prom in the early morning light was gorgeous: steep tree-clad slopes pitching down to meet the water in a line of rounded rosy granite boulders. Sitting on turquoise waters between camera drops watching surf wash up on crescents of yellow sand. A dive that was tropical in clarity: those same rosy boulders forming steep underwater cliffs down to soft sand, the sides covered in undulating kelp. A school of 100+ silvery salmon slowly circling me, my bubbles making a hole in a swirling salmon donut. Days like these act as intermittent reinforcement and keep me going. It would appear that I only need a couple a month - I'm not a very demanding person.
In the middle of all of this I feel a strong well of confidence lurking just under the surface, a bit like one of those boulders I suppose. It makes me feel solid and allows me to achieve a Buddhist-like detachment when it comes to delays. The confidence is there because I'm actually getting stuff done; despite immense hurdles and set backs I'm actually pulling off this project. I can't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment. I received a lot of positive comments after I gave a talk to the department a couple of weeks ago, which has also contributed to my general well-being. I guess I am like a pet: all I need to be happy is intermittent reward, positive reinforcement, love and food.
Well, almost happy. I would also like my thumb back.
February 06, 2008
Three unrelated paragraphs
Lumpkin and I were IM'ing a while back and discussing our brilliance. We are, in fact, each of us so smart that we are occasionally incapable of functioning in real society. When I walk into the wall it's because I'm a genius; when Lumpkin falls down the stairs, it's because he's a genius. We are genii.
The weather this week is abysmal: 30 knot winds and 4m seas. I was hoping to get three days of diving in but don't think I would be able to get out from the harbour in these conditions, leaving me high and dry. It feels like a week off though I'm still working pretty darn hard. I've been watching a lot of footage from my baited underwater cameras and it's taught me a lot about life. It's true; you can learn from the fishies. For example, I'm sure you've often found yourself up late at night pacing and asking yourself why, why do the fishes school? Doesn't that just make them an easy target for a big-mouthed shark/whale/seal/fish? After trying to count fish that are a-swirling together I'm happy to report that schooling does confuse a predator. Being a predator of sorts, school-like behaviour makes me unhappy. I would prefer that the fishes swim slowly past my camera in orderly rows, pausing so that I can identify them.
I've managed to spend a fair bit of my week filling out lots of forms. All of Australian health and safety departments require that risk assessment forms be completed before any activity can be undertaken. This involves identifying risks and things that can be done to mitigate the risks so that all risks are L for Low by the time an activity is undertaken. Yes, it's as pointless as it sounds. There's one risk, namely Dangerous Marine Animals, that always has us stumped. The consequences of the risk are severe though the chances of anything happening are extremely low, still a High risk overall. And what the hell are we supposed to do to mitigate against this risk? On one form, I wrote down "prayer, hope". A colleague routinely writes down, "vigilance". This is the same colleague who mitigated a risk posed by a teenager carrying around a fully cocked spear gun with "stern words". It's just as well our dive safety officer doesn't have time to read the forms!
The weather this week is abysmal: 30 knot winds and 4m seas. I was hoping to get three days of diving in but don't think I would be able to get out from the harbour in these conditions, leaving me high and dry. It feels like a week off though I'm still working pretty darn hard. I've been watching a lot of footage from my baited underwater cameras and it's taught me a lot about life. It's true; you can learn from the fishies. For example, I'm sure you've often found yourself up late at night pacing and asking yourself why, why do the fishes school? Doesn't that just make them an easy target for a big-mouthed shark/whale/seal/fish? After trying to count fish that are a-swirling together I'm happy to report that schooling does confuse a predator. Being a predator of sorts, school-like behaviour makes me unhappy. I would prefer that the fishes swim slowly past my camera in orderly rows, pausing so that I can identify them.
I've managed to spend a fair bit of my week filling out lots of forms. All of Australian health and safety departments require that risk assessment forms be completed before any activity can be undertaken. This involves identifying risks and things that can be done to mitigate the risks so that all risks are L for Low by the time an activity is undertaken. Yes, it's as pointless as it sounds. There's one risk, namely Dangerous Marine Animals, that always has us stumped. The consequences of the risk are severe though the chances of anything happening are extremely low, still a High risk overall. And what the hell are we supposed to do to mitigate against this risk? On one form, I wrote down "prayer, hope". A colleague routinely writes down, "vigilance". This is the same colleague who mitigated a risk posed by a teenager carrying around a fully cocked spear gun with "stern words". It's just as well our dive safety officer doesn't have time to read the forms!
January 28, 2008
Hit it!
I had a dream that I was playing tennis in the Australian open, except that instead of a racket I was using a wooden spoon. I wasn't very good.
I'm home for three days, catching up on sleep, watching fish videos, recharging camera batteries and readying myself for another four days in Apollo Bay. I imagine that this is largely what my life will be like for the next four or five months: home for a couple of days a week, gone for a few weeks a month. The transition back to home hasn't been especially smooth. On the boat, it's Go Go Go and I'm in charge, making lots of snap decisions and generally running the show. It doesn't take much imagination to figure out why coming home has met with a few hiccups.
Today is the Australia Day holiday, which I am celebrating in true Aussie style: by doing nothing much at all. Actually, I'm at work and planning to meet up with Z and friends in the park in a few hours. We finally managed to find a frisbee and I'm looking forward to running around like an idiot for a bit. And drinking some beer. At least that part of the day will be true to the Aussie spirit.
I'm home for three days, catching up on sleep, watching fish videos, recharging camera batteries and readying myself for another four days in Apollo Bay. I imagine that this is largely what my life will be like for the next four or five months: home for a couple of days a week, gone for a few weeks a month. The transition back to home hasn't been especially smooth. On the boat, it's Go Go Go and I'm in charge, making lots of snap decisions and generally running the show. It doesn't take much imagination to figure out why coming home has met with a few hiccups.
Today is the Australia Day holiday, which I am celebrating in true Aussie style: by doing nothing much at all. Actually, I'm at work and planning to meet up with Z and friends in the park in a few hours. We finally managed to find a frisbee and I'm looking forward to running around like an idiot for a bit. And drinking some beer. At least that part of the day will be true to the Aussie spirit.
January 20, 2008
Just peachy
It's raining peaches in Melbourne - well, in our yard anyway, thanks to the neighbours' tree which has leaned well over into our back garden. Last year we didn't get any ripe peaches - just a few rotting in the garden beds. This year's a different story. I've been picking a few every now and then, letting them ripen to a delectable sweetness on the kitchen counter. On Thursday I went out and picked everything I could reach, which was enough to take a big bag next door, put two bags in the fridge, pack a third bag for the weekend, and stew enough for ten servings of delicious, cinnamon and rum flavoured fruity goodness. There are still more on the tree. Anyone want some peaches?
We spent a very relaxing weekend with friends A and M whose baby F is just about the cutest kid I've ever seen - but only because I haven't seen your child lately. We were down at Venus Bay, about 2.5 hours southeast of Melbourne on the coast. The weather was not so great, though I did manage to go swimming twice. The second time was very brief and afterwards my skin burned with an icy fire. I felt so alive.
Tomorrow, I'm off down the coast in the other direction to do a week's worth of work in Apollo Bay. Even though there's a good amount of stress and worry to my days, I have to admit that my life is pretty awesome. Peaches and beaches. It doesn't get much better than that.
We spent a very relaxing weekend with friends A and M whose baby F is just about the cutest kid I've ever seen - but only because I haven't seen your child lately. We were down at Venus Bay, about 2.5 hours southeast of Melbourne on the coast. The weather was not so great, though I did manage to go swimming twice. The second time was very brief and afterwards my skin burned with an icy fire. I felt so alive.
Tomorrow, I'm off down the coast in the other direction to do a week's worth of work in Apollo Bay. Even though there's a good amount of stress and worry to my days, I have to admit that my life is pretty awesome. Peaches and beaches. It doesn't get much better than that.
January 06, 2008
Shiny, purdy, new
Since that last post, things have taken a turn in the upward direction. Sure, it was hard to go down, but I'm talking really UP. By Wednesday evening I had figured out that much of the problem lay with my laptop - at 3.5 years old, the DVD drive is not working consistently, the power cord is befracked, and the touchpad is wonky. Z and I decided it was time to get a new computer, but that we would wait another six months or so to save the money by buying one in the States. In the meantime, I would buy a new DVD drive for a couple of hundred bucks. I explained all this to my supervisor on Thursday morning when I ran into him in the hallway. His response? Just buy a new laptop - and get reimbursed from the grant.
Say what?
Yes indeedy. I'm getting a free laptop. And it's much, much more of a laptop than I would ever buy myself because the grant will pay for it to have all sorts of fancy media capacity - extra RAM, a super fast processor, a big hard drive, and lots of dedicated video RAM. And yes, I can now use RAM in a sentence, and most of the time I'm doing it correctly.
And I should be thrilled and happy, right? Part of me is - we'll call this part the little person sitting on my right shoulder. And what is the little person on my left feeling? Schizophrenia? Well, yes, but also mild disgust at our consumerist society. Despite my best efforts to avoid the quick thrills of retail therapy, new and shiny things are appealing. When I find myself attracted to new things, I feel like I've been sucked into the world in which happiness can only be found in a new pair of shoes or a new kitchen gadget. I don't like that world nor do I want any part in it. These two little people do battle over my head which leaves me feeling a little woozy.
I swear I can hear my dad reading this while sighing with disappointment and telling me to Just Get Over It Already and enjoy the new laptop.
Which I will. In a couple of hours.
Woot! Woot!
Say what?
Yes indeedy. I'm getting a free laptop. And it's much, much more of a laptop than I would ever buy myself because the grant will pay for it to have all sorts of fancy media capacity - extra RAM, a super fast processor, a big hard drive, and lots of dedicated video RAM. And yes, I can now use RAM in a sentence, and most of the time I'm doing it correctly.
And I should be thrilled and happy, right? Part of me is - we'll call this part the little person sitting on my right shoulder. And what is the little person on my left feeling? Schizophrenia? Well, yes, but also mild disgust at our consumerist society. Despite my best efforts to avoid the quick thrills of retail therapy, new and shiny things are appealing. When I find myself attracted to new things, I feel like I've been sucked into the world in which happiness can only be found in a new pair of shoes or a new kitchen gadget. I don't like that world nor do I want any part in it. These two little people do battle over my head which leaves me feeling a little woozy.
I swear I can hear my dad reading this while sighing with disappointment and telling me to Just Get Over It Already and enjoy the new laptop.
Which I will. In a couple of hours.
Woot! Woot!
January 02, 2008
Sucky Suckity Suck
I am having a very bad day. It's so bad that it's hilariously funny; I find myself sitting in the computer lab, shivering with cold from the overzealous air conditioners, laughing hysterically with tears streaming down my face. Thanks to Kevmo for providing the comedic interlude. He's had two coffees and a coke and is pretty funny to chat with. He's also helping me figure out this motherfucking shit stinking bitch of a problem that I'm having transferring my movies from miniDV tapes to DVD. I've already enlisted the help of my dept tech guy, a coworker who does this sort of thing, and friendly BennyG whose credits include a real, honest-to-god movie. BennyG talked to people who know people who know this shit and we concluded that I have all the right equipment and that none of it works. At least I'm now able to capture movies from camera to PC, a process that took two weeks to figure out; two weeks of reading manuals that said things like "Simply plug in the iLink cable" or "If you're having connection problems remove the iLink cable and plug it back in". Yeah thanks a lot fuckwad. So no problem capturing movies. Now I'm having problems burning DVDs that my computer can read. It used to work just fine and occasionally still works - but then it doesn't. And the swearing begins. It is the most frustrating thing in the world. Kevmo suggested, "For your phd you could make a fish art piece scaled with corrupt DVDs of all the data since you couldn't deliver the real project due to technical difficulties." I think that might be the most awesomest idea I've ever heard. I just need to transfer over to the Faculty of Art.
Meanwhile, the bike shops weren't open for a week meaning that I still haven't been able to get a new bike "iron" to replace the one that broke, meaning I still have a flat tire. It's been two weeks. I tried to fix it again this morning using a spoon - and then I broke the spoon and the second tire "iron". I rode in on Z's bike which made me appreciate my bike more and realize just how desperately Z's needs a tune-up. It changes gears all on it's own; what a clever bike!
Arrived at work to discover that student email is down. Still down. It's been at least FOUR days. It's only email. Or perhaps I should say, we're only students. I'm sure there's an explanation of the problem and an estimated fix time - in my inaccessible inbox.
I think I need a beer. Or five.
Meanwhile, the bike shops weren't open for a week meaning that I still haven't been able to get a new bike "iron" to replace the one that broke, meaning I still have a flat tire. It's been two weeks. I tried to fix it again this morning using a spoon - and then I broke the spoon and the second tire "iron". I rode in on Z's bike which made me appreciate my bike more and realize just how desperately Z's needs a tune-up. It changes gears all on it's own; what a clever bike!
Arrived at work to discover that student email is down. Still down. It's been at least FOUR days. It's only email. Or perhaps I should say, we're only students. I'm sure there's an explanation of the problem and an estimated fix time - in my inaccessible inbox.
I think I need a beer. Or five.
January 01, 2008
Surviving
We spent new years eve day huddled in the front room in the dark, curtains drawn, playing scrabble and drinking frozen fruit shakes. I felt a bit apocalyptic, justified by the fact that it hit 45C (113F) yesterday according to the Abruzzo club sign. Our lovely brick house stays a good ten degrees cooler than outside, maybe a bit more in the hallway, which is great but means that it's still 35C (95F) inside. Who knew that hot could feel so cool? Around 4:00 we ventured out in search of real air conditioning, choosing to see the French film Tell No-One (Ne le dis à
Stepping back into the furnace afterwards was literally breathtaking; I could feel myself cooking. At a friends' birthday in the park a few days ago we were chatting about growing up in Australian summers. Someone remembered that we used to put the sprinkler on in the back yard and spend the day running through it. With the current drought, no-one even owns sprinklers - or if they do, know that they will face a neighbourhood lynching committee should they use them. There are other memories and survival tactics from childhood - like the closing of curtains and doors, mango in the freezer, a love of bathroom tiles.
Last night at 10pm we were still sweating, sitting on our neighbour's porch drinking various alcoholic concoctions and talking about the intensity of the day. It wasn't any cooler when I went to bed at 3am. Thank god I bought us a fan a few weeks ago.
Today is meant to be cooler but I just stepped outside to water the very withered tomatoes and got slammed by that wall of heat that only 100+ days can deliver. There's a cool change coming this evening when we'll finally be able to pull back the curtains, open the windows and doors, and emerge from our cocoons to enjoy the 24 hour respite from the heat.
Stepping back into the furnace afterwards was literally breathtaking; I could feel myself cooking. At a friends' birthday in the park a few days ago we were chatting about growing up in Australian summers. Someone remembered that we used to put the sprinkler on in the back yard and spend the day running through it. With the current drought, no-one even owns sprinklers - or if they do, know that they will face a neighbourhood lynching committee should they use them. There are other memories and survival tactics from childhood - like the closing of curtains and doors, mango in the freezer, a love of bathroom tiles.
Last night at 10pm we were still sweating, sitting on our neighbour's porch drinking various alcoholic concoctions and talking about the intensity of the day. It wasn't any cooler when I went to bed at 3am. Thank god I bought us a fan a few weeks ago.
Today is meant to be cooler but I just stepped outside to water the very withered tomatoes and got slammed by that wall of heat that only 100+ days can deliver. There's a cool change coming this evening when we'll finally be able to pull back the curtains, open the windows and doors, and emerge from our cocoons to enjoy the 24 hour respite from the heat.
December 03, 2007
Rain
It's stormy in Melbourne today. It started with a staccato of big, loud drops around 4:30am. Since about noon, we've had squalls of thunder with rain that bounces knee high and dark threatening skies. I'm in heaven, as are all the birds and trees and gardens.
I'm working from home today and honestly not getting much of anything done. Last week I helped install some artificial reefs that a couple of my lab-mates are using. They are composed of milk crates filled with bricks and concrete pavers, and each one weighs 40kg (that's 88lb for the metrically challenged, and damned heavy for the rest of you). Two days of lifting those between loading dock and trailer, trailer and dolly, dolly and boat, and then moving them around on the sea floor understandably knocked me out. On Sunday I helped to facilitate a fish count for a local community group and it was the first time I'd been snorkelling in about six months. It was also the first time I'd ever ducked under breaking waves (albeit not on purpose) with a mask on. Watching the froth curve above and over me was beautiful. The snorkelling site was two hours from our house and the driving in excessive heat without a working a/c probably contributed to the not-so-lovely evening migraine I developed. It was hot last night, too, which meant that I didn't sleep all that well. All of this adds up to me "working" from home today.
Last week, Z and I took Monday off to visit the town of Daylesford, about a couple of hours north of the city. It's main claim to fame is natural mineral springs, which we managed to find despite the shoddiness of my ten-year-old memories. It's really bizarre to drink fizzy water out of a tap out of the ground. After lunching at an awesome bakery (best bread ever) we wandered around the convent gallery, admiring Dalis and Chagalls and laughing at Goddess-mandala thingies. The best part of the day, however, was lying on a patch of grass in the sun overlooking the lake, listening to kookaburras and repeating, "It's Monday and I'm not at work!"
In other news I had a whole afternoon of optimism about my project after a particularly good meeting with my supervisor. Now that's over and I'm back to lightly worried. This weather, while great for garden and wildlife, turns the ocean at my study sites into a frothing mess.
Speaking of frothing mess (or lack thereof) Hed and Eather sent us cans of pumpkin for Thanksgiving. Hooray! This year it won't take three days to make pumpkin pie! Hooray!
November 11, 2007
Pics
I've posted photos from my trip to Pt. Campbell to Flickr. I'm also constantly expanding my collection of Melbourne photos. Enjoy!
November 09, 2007
Day-tah!
I just got back from my second trip of the week to Pt Campbell, a small town on the coast about 3.5 hours SW of Melbourne. This week isn't over for me and I've already driven 1000km. Wheee! Pt Campbell is famous for the Twelve Apostles, of which Z and I saw about three on our trip to Apollo Bay earlier this year. The first visit of the week was to meet some local contacts to talk about my project. Meeting the contacts lead to today's trip out on a boat to get the first honest-to-god data point of my project. Hooray! Not only did I get to drop off my camera (and find it again) but I also got a free tour of the 12 Apostles with a group of American tourists who, as best I can gather, were on a National Geographic photography outing of some sort. They all appeared to be retirees except for one guy from South Carolina who looked like he was in his 20's. Which one of these things is not like the others? You're correct! It's the young guy who chose the wrong holiday.
Allow me to repeat the brilliant news de jour: I have data (or day-tah! depending on how sleep deprived you/I am). Turning the corner into data collection is a huge relief; I'm over the anticipatory hump of dread in which I was mired last month. (This is what sleep deprivation does to my metaphors: I've got corners and humps and now swamps! Hee!) Today felt a little bit like cheating; it was just so easy. It's the part where I have to organize divers and gear and get into the water myself that's most of the headache. Even the getting up at 4am was - well, let me be honest: that part sucked. But hey, I get to go to bed at 8:30 with dignity - whatever dignity I have left anyway. I'll post pictures later this weekend.
Allow me to repeat the brilliant news de jour: I have data (or day-tah! depending on how sleep deprived you/I am). Turning the corner into data collection is a huge relief; I'm over the anticipatory hump of dread in which I was mired last month. (This is what sleep deprivation does to my metaphors: I've got corners and humps and now swamps! Hee!) Today felt a little bit like cheating; it was just so easy. It's the part where I have to organize divers and gear and get into the water myself that's most of the headache. Even the getting up at 4am was - well, let me be honest: that part sucked. But hey, I get to go to bed at 8:30 with dignity - whatever dignity I have left anyway. I'll post pictures later this weekend.
October 27, 2007
Prom
I am back from the Prom, but instead returning with a droopy corsage and hickies, I have aching legs and some good photos. There were echidnas and kookaburras and rosellas and wildflowers and swamp wallabies and emus galore.
On Wednesday night, my lab-mate Mal unfortunately hit a wombat, and by the time he had pulled a U-ey to check its status, its pouch young was running around the road in a panic. He wrapped it in a towel and together we took it to the ranger on duty. As sad as the situation was, it was pretty awesome to hold a 20cm long wombat, even if she was hissing furiously at us.
On Thursday, Mal and I took a three-hour hike around (read: up, down, up, down, up, down) a couple of rocky promontories looking for intertidal sites for his research. To get to the headland required crossing a crotch-deep river that, on our return, had dropped to ankle deep (poor tidal timing on our part). On Friday morning, we did a shore dive and I remembered how much I love boats. Again, we were looking for a site for Mal to anchor some equipment, but the bay we were diving in was really shallow so it took us half our tanks to get below 10m. After looking at some fish (which I'm getting better at IDing), I was too close to empty to continue on and so popped up to the surface only to discover that the beach had become a far off distant suggestion of sand. It was a very long swim back in. And on Friday afternoon, we were back at the headland boulder scramble but this time with steep scrubby hillsides to clamber over too. I would feel fit and strong if only my legs didn't ache so much.
It's pretty great to be home, sleeping with a warm husband in a comfy bed. I even got to sleep in this morning, all the way to 7:30am, which is a lot if you consider that I've been waking up at 5.
On Wednesday night, my lab-mate Mal unfortunately hit a wombat, and by the time he had pulled a U-ey to check its status, its pouch young was running around the road in a panic. He wrapped it in a towel and together we took it to the ranger on duty. As sad as the situation was, it was pretty awesome to hold a 20cm long wombat, even if she was hissing furiously at us.
On Thursday, Mal and I took a three-hour hike around (read: up, down, up, down, up, down) a couple of rocky promontories looking for intertidal sites for his research. To get to the headland required crossing a crotch-deep river that, on our return, had dropped to ankle deep (poor tidal timing on our part). On Friday morning, we did a shore dive and I remembered how much I love boats. Again, we were looking for a site for Mal to anchor some equipment, but the bay we were diving in was really shallow so it took us half our tanks to get below 10m. After looking at some fish (which I'm getting better at IDing), I was too close to empty to continue on and so popped up to the surface only to discover that the beach had become a far off distant suggestion of sand. It was a very long swim back in. And on Friday afternoon, we were back at the headland boulder scramble but this time with steep scrubby hillsides to clamber over too. I would feel fit and strong if only my legs didn't ache so much.
It's pretty great to be home, sleeping with a warm husband in a comfy bed. I even got to sleep in this morning, all the way to 7:30am, which is a lot if you consider that I've been waking up at 5.
October 23, 2007
On
It has begun. It started on Monday the 8th of October, a date to be remembered. That was the week I got home every night after 7:00pm and spent every day too busy to eat or check e-mail or make a phone call. Last week was the same and it culminated in some seriously hard core field work and the chance to trial my BRUV frame for the first time. The frame itself worked brilliantly, though I had some technical difficulties with the camera. It looks a bit like a small tank complete with gun turret, earning itself the obvious name The Tank, though the nickname I like best is the Dalek. I’ve been home for a couple of days and head out again tomorrow to do more fieldwork down at Wilsons Promontory. I think I will be around the week after, hopefully doing day trips though there may be an overnight or two in there somewhere. The following week, I’m off down the coast in the other direction to Pt Campbell for a few days. And this is what it will be like until May 2008. I was feeling really warn out until about Friday afternoon when we loaded up to the boat, wriggled into still-damp wet suits and headed out to catch a slack tide. The conditions were some of the best I have ever seen – on the surface, that is. There were ripples instead of waves and it was sunny and warm. As we motored out I got a glimpse of how enviable this life I lead is – how wonderful it is to be on a boat instead of in front of a desk in a cube in an office in a tall building full of desks and cubes and offices. It has recharged me and has me almost looking forward to this field season. Sure, I’ll be tired. Sure, there will be all sorts of technical difficulties and mechanical troubles and tired arms and legs and backs. But I’ll be out in the sun, swimming with the fishes. It sure doesn’t suck.
October 12, 2007
Hazzah!
My BRUV* frame is done! Done! Done! Done! After weeks of planning and two full weeks in the workshop, I can report success. This week I've felt like a kid who failed shop class and was assigned to a summer intensive; I've been in with the tools from 9:30am to 7:00pm for four days and haven't turned on my computer in three. My back aches, my hands ache, my feet ache, my legs ache. But it's done! And now, it's the weekend and I can relax. Coz the frame is built!
As you can probably guess, I've been pretty wiped out this week, as the following anecdote will cleverly illustrate. On my way into Uni this morning, I started digging through my bag for my keys. They weren't in the usual pocket, or in any of the other places they could be. Damn, I thought, I've left them at home. So I dug out my phone to call Z to make sure that I hadn't dropped them on the tram. As I was dialling I looked down at my hands and discovered my keys sitting there. That's right: I'd been holding them the whole time. I almost wet my pants I was laughing so hard!
And then I went and wielded power tools. Probably not a brilliant move as my scratched and beaten hands will attest.
Did I mention it's done??? I'll take pictures at some point so you have a better idea of what the hell I'm talking about. Then you can Ooh and Aah appropriately in the comments.
But until then, I think I'll have another glass of wine, thank you very much.
(*BRUV: Baited Remote Underwater Video.)
As you can probably guess, I've been pretty wiped out this week, as the following anecdote will cleverly illustrate. On my way into Uni this morning, I started digging through my bag for my keys. They weren't in the usual pocket, or in any of the other places they could be. Damn, I thought, I've left them at home. So I dug out my phone to call Z to make sure that I hadn't dropped them on the tram. As I was dialling I looked down at my hands and discovered my keys sitting there. That's right: I'd been holding them the whole time. I almost wet my pants I was laughing so hard!
And then I went and wielded power tools. Probably not a brilliant move as my scratched and beaten hands will attest.
Did I mention it's done??? I'll take pictures at some point so you have a better idea of what the hell I'm talking about. Then you can Ooh and Aah appropriately in the comments.
But until then, I think I'll have another glass of wine, thank you very much.
(*BRUV: Baited Remote Underwater Video.)
October 08, 2007
Chicken Little with a Sting
I spent all weekend gardening. Out the back, we now have tomatoes and strawberries growing, and a herb garden that includes mint, rosemary, thyme, basil, coriander (cilantro), and parsley. Our front yard is no longer a dirt box that the neighbour's cat can use for her bidness; it's planted with all sorts of flowers: clumping flowers and creeping flowers and scented flowers and bushy flowers. It took me about three hours at the nursery to choose what to buy. I find it really difficult to imagine how things will grow and what they will look like in a month when faced with something small and green in a pot. It was exciting to work in the front garden because there's a flowering gum that arches over our yard. As I worked, drunk bees fell from the sky with alarming frequency. When I first saw a bee stumbling around on the ground I thought it was injured. Then I saw another one, which I thought was the first one in a different place. After the fifth one I figured out what was going on, and then had to forcefully resist the urge to look up.
Some of the less pleasant side effects of gardening (thankfully not including bee stings) are an aching back, arms and hamstrings. Last night I went to Pilates, which I've decided is just a fancy word for sit-ups, which is a polite way of saying abdominal torture. Usually I enjoy at least part of the class - or perhaps I just enjoy thinking about the day that I could maybe perhaps do one of those more advanced exercises. But yesterday, it was pure torture; y'know, one of those gym classes where you spend the entire time thinking, I paid for this???
Speaking of paying, we have copies of our new lease to sign, which list our rent at the old price - as in, without the 10% increase. We think it's a mistake, but aren't going to say anything just in case no-one else notices.
Some of the less pleasant side effects of gardening (thankfully not including bee stings) are an aching back, arms and hamstrings. Last night I went to Pilates, which I've decided is just a fancy word for sit-ups, which is a polite way of saying abdominal torture. Usually I enjoy at least part of the class - or perhaps I just enjoy thinking about the day that I could maybe perhaps do one of those more advanced exercises. But yesterday, it was pure torture; y'know, one of those gym classes where you spend the entire time thinking, I paid for this???
Speaking of paying, we have copies of our new lease to sign, which list our rent at the old price - as in, without the 10% increase. We think it's a mistake, but aren't going to say anything just in case no-one else notices.
September 29, 2007
Beech Forest
Today Geelong schooled Port Adelaide in the AFL Grand Finals. If it's any consolation (and I'm sure it's not), Port Adelaide set a new record for losing margin in a grand final - something like 120 points. I think the problem is that their mascot isn't; they're called The Power. It's hard to say "Go the Power!" and easy to say "Go Cats!"
Last weekend we took a second anniversary trip down the Great Ocean Road, which Z thinks isn't so great or so ocean-filled. I did, however, manage to find him his first wild koala sighting. While driving. In the rain. I'm talented like that.
While driving the long way home on Sunday, we passed a sign that said "Beech Forest". I remembered mum telling us something about a great hike she and Ken took in Beech Forest. So, off the paved road we turned, winding our way up and down a bumpy road through various types of forest, none of it particularly beechy. After about 40 minutes we popped out onto a paved road where we found a sign next to a house that read, Welcome to Beech Forest, population 106. This is, of course, when we pulled out the map only to discover what was now quite obvious: Beech Forest is not a forest; it's a town. We decided to one day start our own town called Scenic Waterfall or perhaps Koala Viewing Platform. It will be an industrial strip mining centre a long way off the main highway. But it will be well signed.
We did all of this driving in our newer car. It has four working windows, a radio and CD player, and it starts without needing a choke or a prayer. You'll find a picture of it as well as pictures of koalas (say, awwww) and various other things in my Flickr account. Link is to the right.
Last weekend we took a second anniversary trip down the Great Ocean Road, which Z thinks isn't so great or so ocean-filled. I did, however, manage to find him his first wild koala sighting. While driving. In the rain. I'm talented like that.
While driving the long way home on Sunday, we passed a sign that said "Beech Forest". I remembered mum telling us something about a great hike she and Ken took in Beech Forest. So, off the paved road we turned, winding our way up and down a bumpy road through various types of forest, none of it particularly beechy. After about 40 minutes we popped out onto a paved road where we found a sign next to a house that read, Welcome to Beech Forest, population 106. This is, of course, when we pulled out the map only to discover what was now quite obvious: Beech Forest is not a forest; it's a town. We decided to one day start our own town called Scenic Waterfall or perhaps Koala Viewing Platform. It will be an industrial strip mining centre a long way off the main highway. But it will be well signed.
We did all of this driving in our newer car. It has four working windows, a radio and CD player, and it starts without needing a choke or a prayer. You'll find a picture of it as well as pictures of koalas (say, awwww) and various other things in my Flickr account. Link is to the right.
September 18, 2007
Galvanic potential
I have bought and used countless nails and bolts and nuts and washers in my lifetime. Whenever it comes time to buy such hardware, I find myself in that aisle of the hardware store (you know the one: it's lined with small drawers and tubs filled with fasteners), glossing over terms like "galvanized" and "cadmium plated" to make a purchase based on size and price. Oh, how things have changed. For the past week, I've been designing a frame to hold an underwater camera. The camera and frame will form a BRUV, or baited remote underwater video station. It's like its name says: it gets dropped into the ocean with bait and left to film all the creatures that are attracted to the mushed pilchards (mmm, mushed pilchards). The frame will be made out of aluminium (note the extra "i" and pronounce accordingly when speaking to men at the hardware shop) and bolted together with, um, well.... er. What was that about galvanized screws?
So, I've been learning about galvanic potential and oxidation and corrosion and which metals can be in contact with eachother given area ratios and the presence of salty water. It's all quite, uh, illuminating. I've also had to buy a protractor and graph paper; I'm amazed that anyone sells that stuff any more, but thank god they do. I've been using trigonometry (SOHCAHTOA anyone?), which I barely remember since it's been about 15 years since I last thought about it. And I've been trying to think and draw in 3D.
And what have I learned? I have learned that I am not an engineer. And I've had a helluva good time learning that. It's been a nice to pull out the pencils rather than the journals; to draw rather than to type; to think about aluminium fitting together rather than communities of fish species interacting. But at the end of the day, it's very clear that I'm an ecologist.
So, I've been learning about galvanic potential and oxidation and corrosion and which metals can be in contact with eachother given area ratios and the presence of salty water. It's all quite, uh, illuminating. I've also had to buy a protractor and graph paper; I'm amazed that anyone sells that stuff any more, but thank god they do. I've been using trigonometry (SOHCAHTOA anyone?), which I barely remember since it's been about 15 years since I last thought about it. And I've been trying to think and draw in 3D.
And what have I learned? I have learned that I am not an engineer. And I've had a helluva good time learning that. It's been a nice to pull out the pencils rather than the journals; to draw rather than to type; to think about aluminium fitting together rather than communities of fish species interacting. But at the end of the day, it's very clear that I'm an ecologist.
August 29, 2007
All in a name
Last Friday, we went downtown for dinner, drinks and a movie. While walking up Bourke street, a shop sign caught my eye. It read surfdivenski. I assumed that Divenski was the name of a famous Australian surfer of Polish descent until I noticed that a second sign in the window read Surf Dive & Ski. I like my version of the shop name much better.
Further down the road, I saw a billboard advertising a gentleman's club called the Spearmint Rhino. Z thinks it makes for a great euphemism, as in: He gave her the spearmint rhino (wink wink). I have no idea what that means and I don't want to think about it too hard.
In other entirely unrelated news, spring arrived on Friday. Suddenly it's warm and sunny. We haven't used the heater in six days, we were able to dry two loads of laundry on the line outside, and we spent the weekend gardening and sitting in the back yard playing Carcasonne with my neighbour/lab-mate. He has the extended game which is so much more complicated and interesting than the simple version we've been playing.
It's really nice to not be cold all the time, though I do worry that we're in for another rip roarin' roastin' toastin' never ending summer. That should make Z nice and happy and me lethargic and sweaty.
Further down the road, I saw a billboard advertising a gentleman's club called the Spearmint Rhino. Z thinks it makes for a great euphemism, as in: He gave her the spearmint rhino (wink wink). I have no idea what that means and I don't want to think about it too hard.
In other entirely unrelated news, spring arrived on Friday. Suddenly it's warm and sunny. We haven't used the heater in six days, we were able to dry two loads of laundry on the line outside, and we spent the weekend gardening and sitting in the back yard playing Carcasonne with my neighbour/lab-mate. He has the extended game which is so much more complicated and interesting than the simple version we've been playing.
It's really nice to not be cold all the time, though I do worry that we're in for another rip roarin' roastin' toastin' never ending summer. That should make Z nice and happy and me lethargic and sweaty.
August 24, 2007
Bed
We are settling into Melbourne in all sorts of ways. One of our recent and rather large investments in this city has been a new mattress, a king-size doona (comforter) and cover. Buh-bye mid-night blanket thievery. Hello bright red and orange Indian-style bedroom!
This may not seem like a big deal to you, and you probably don't care, but for us it marks a turning point. We're no longer buying any old cheap crap to sleep on and live with. We have a bit more money and we're spending it to be a bit more (OK, a lot more) comfortable. This is also the first big joint purchase of our marriage, which is funny considering all our friends who are buying houses right now. We're transitioning from everything-we-need-is-in-a-backpack to choosing a country and city to live in, to renting a house, to having jobs, and now a real bed. And soon, we might even have a real car.
This may not seem like a big deal to you, and you probably don't care, but for us it marks a turning point. We're no longer buying any old cheap crap to sleep on and live with. We have a bit more money and we're spending it to be a bit more (OK, a lot more) comfortable. This is also the first big joint purchase of our marriage, which is funny considering all our friends who are buying houses right now. We're transitioning from everything-we-need-is-in-a-backpack to choosing a country and city to live in, to renting a house, to having jobs, and now a real bed. And soon, we might even have a real car.
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