Master's of the Pipi trail

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True to my word, I was up and out of my tent just as the sun began to creep over the horizon. Lee had given me instructions last night to come round to the side of his tent to wake him up. Experience had taught me that waking him up after a skinful the night before was a lot easier said than done. Many was the time that he'd crashed at mine, or visa versa, and getting him up required either the promise of food or a marching band complete with air-horn! Surprisingly though, it only took a few nudges to get him out of his pit and into the car. We drove right the way down the beach to the point, where a handful of people were already waist deep in the cold ocean trying their luck at beach casting.

We set up our rigs and were soon joining them, wadding in and casting out into the gentle rolling waves. I was still employing Sean's technique that I had put to good effect yesterday, but sadly without the same results. Although I kept sending the baited hook into the breaking waves, trying to get it further and further out each time I continued to come up empty handed. After half an hour, which seemed much longer due to my unsuccessful hit rate, Kemton arrived with a few words of advice and encouragement. Kemton pointed out the gutters closer into shore that were offered some protection by the sand bars which the waves were hitting. Kemton explained that these often held small numbers of fish that got trapped as the tide went out and that the best way to fish them was to allow the bait to drift in over the top of the bar. I tried this until it became painfully obvious that there were no fish in the gutter and I reverted to what I was doing before. As Lee and I looked down the beach at the other people fishing and seeing that they were having just as much success, we resolved to pack up and head back to camp. As we drove, Lee suggested that we tried looking for Pipi's so we didn't get ribbed for coming back entirely empty handed.

Within metres of beginning our drive back to camp along the beach Lee signalled for me to pull up. As I did I looked up saw dozens of raised bobbles in the sand which hid the elusive Pipi's. Lee hopped out of the car and started to dig in the wet sand where the tide lapped up the beach. Within seconds he pulled his hand back out of the sand, brandishing in his fingertips a small green/white shelled Pipi. He popped it into the bucket and said 'Follow me up the beach, I'm going to need a hand'. I drove slowly along the sand stopping the car every so often to hop out and help Lee dig up the fruit of the sea.

We hadn't got very far and we had each already dug up a couple of handfuls of Pipi's. A little further along the beach we noticed that the number of bobbles in the sand had decreased and the number of holes had increased. I looked up and pointed out a figure a hundred metres away. The cheeky fisherman had seen our success and decided to get in on the action by beating us to the rest of the Pipi's. My highly competitive nature kicked in and I told Lee to get back into the wagon. As soon as he shut his door I sped away pulling around our cheeky friend to get ahead of him. Once we'd overtaken him our hunt continued nearly all the way back to camp. I say nearly, because we spent the best part of two hours almost half filling the bucket before Lee said 'I think we've got enough now mate'.

On our return the usual pomey jibes resonated from Kemtons tent, so Lee and I casually covered our catch with sea water to purge them before sorting out a hearty breakfast of fried eggs and bacon. We perched our plates on our knees and sat on top of the dunes to enjoy the morning sun. As we ate Keith and Kemton went off to the back of the tent to look at our haul with the expected 'Lets see how the young bucks did then eh?'. The sounds of shock and the expressive expletives said it all as Lee and I, with mouths full of food, grinned knowingly at each other.

After we had joked with Kemton and Keith about how well two first timers had done, the camp decided to go off to the other side of the headland for the afternoon. Packed and ready for the off, all four wagons set off in convoy up the beach towards the turn off for Rainbow beach. It was only a short drive through the bush, along the track which we had ventured along on our first morning in camp. Sadly we weren't the only ones who had come to Rainbow for a change of scenery. As we emerged from the dense canopy of trees, the small spit of sand surrounded by the lagoon was littered with families enjoying the shallow calm waters in the midday sun. We found a spot and parked close together so that the canopies from the cars could create a shaded spot for the kids to play in. As we tried to unload and manoeuvre the vehicles, it felt like everything had to be discussed at great length and everyone give their own opinion about how something should be done before anything actually happened. Even then, after a way forward had been agreed, everyone standing watching had a look on their face as if to say 'You shouldn't have done it like that mate'. I quickly learnt that this was the typically Aussie way of problem solving, and I chuckled to myself thinking that we weren't all that different after all!

I felt very out of sorts as everyone dispersed to do their own thing and I was unsure why. I felt very subdued - irritable almost and couldn't fathom it. Perhaps it was the fact that I had been in one place with the same people for the longest period of time since I had started traveling and I was getting itchy to do something, experience what the country had to offer. Maybe I felt like I had outstayed my welcome, but whatever it was, experience had taught me to keep quiet and keep to myself rather than lower the mood and insult my hosts hospitality. Sadly this was not to be. Keith could clearly see that I wasn't myself and asked if I was ok, I said I was fine but I just felt a little strange. In his indisputable wisdom, Keith told me that coming to the beach was all about relaxing and letting it all wash over you. With that he put a beer in my hand and said 'Welcome to Australia'. As I had a couple of mouthfuls a dawning realisation washed over me; beer and the beach was what Australia did, this is what the country was offering me! I felt better after a beer and a wander along the sands, watching the guys fishing and making sandcastles and having a muck around with Kemton's boys in the shade.

Once everyone was back together we fired up the gas BBQ and made some very welcome sausage sandwiches before packing up and heading off to Rainbow for supplies. Due to absolute self sufficiency whilst camping we needed to stock up on the essentials before we got back to camp: bread, bacon, eggs...beer. We also made sure that we grabbed a healthy supply of Easter eggs and Easter bunnies for the following day. It had been explained to me that all of the kids were still of the age where they firmly believed in the Easter bunny. Although I understood, I found it strange because even though I'd been bought up believing in Father Christmas (which I still do) if never had the Easter bunny. Nonetheless all the chocolate was hidden as we began the drive back to camp. As we drove we passed the wreckage of an upturned car that had been swallowed by the sand. The hapless owner of the car hadn't been as carful with the tide as they should have been and it had been left there as a poignant reminder to other driver to take care with the tides...it also looked really cool and made gor a brilliant photo opportunity!

Back at camp we showered and freshened up before it got too dark and went to Des and Keith's tent for dinner. Tonight was giblets and beans, another wonderful meal made especially for camp. As I tucked into what the Petersen's all lovingly referred to as 'Camp food', I appreciated just how much home cooking meant to me after the last couple of months of picking at various things and eating fast food. Obviously it wasn't the same as my own Mums cooking, but it made me think of her and everyone else back home.

Dinner was followed by the obligatory beer or ten next to the fire and the usual banter between us all. Before long we all became hungry again and Lee and I decided it was time to come into out element and prepare the Pipi's for a late night snack. Lee had come rather too well prepared to cook Pipi's as an off the cuff thing. He pulled from the fridge chillies, lemongrass, parsley, garlic and essentially everything conceivable needed to make a Thai style broth. We set about preparing and chopping the ingredients to throw into Kemton's cast iron camp oven along with the Pipi's and a drop of Keith's whisky. Kemton looked on fascinated by what we were doing with the look of an excited child on his face. Once everything was in the pot Lee carried it down to the fire, where Kemton had scraped a few of the hot coals to one edge of the fire for us to cook on. The fire had grown massively over the last couple of days, spreading a lot further than the small pit that Lee and I had created and although it no longer resembled the picture perfect look of a camp fire it was exceptionally warm and perfect for cooking on!

The camp oven was placed carefully at the edge of the fire and Kemton loving scraped more hot coals around the edge of the pot. As we sat back with a beer to admire our work Kemton's friend Chris produced another camp oven containing damper. Chris' wife Nikki had made this traditional camp bread to go along with the Pipi's and Lee and I were fascinated. The damper was a thick stodgy white bread that was doughy enough to soak up the juice of the Pipi's, and would complimented it amazingly; an Australian version of moules marineres! After much stirring of the Pipi's and several beers our masterpiece was ready and everyone tucked in. Everyone was going back for more attacking the Pipi's with spoons just to get the juice from the pan. To say it was well received would have been an understatement as even Kemton, who had been sceptical at first, couldn't get enough!

As the night drew on the wind began to blow in from the ocean. The kids were all packed off to bed so that the Easter bunny didn't miss them during the night. I found it curious how celebrating Easter here was a really big thing, and that the kids believed in the Easter bunny as fervently as Father Christmas. Once they were tucked up the parents sat next to the fire discussing how they each made the footprints in the sand outside their tents using their fingers. As it grew colder it was time to call it a night and retire to the comfort of my tent, ready for my visit from the Easter bunny the next morning.

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