one can never have too many pair of socks...

---

second day of the new year will be spent on a sailboat. if i had the time or money, i'd have spent much longer than 2 days on a boat but... this is far better than no sailing at all. pack up the "small, soft bag" i'm allowed to take on the boat and leave the rest of my stuff in storage at the backpackers. start the 20 minute walk to the marina around 630am. have to be at abel point marina at 7am to check in and get fitted for a stinger suit.

see a girl walking along the same way i am and eventually went up to talk to her since otherwise i seemed slightly like a passive stalker. we're both heading to the same place.. and to the same boat... she's helen, from switzerland. helen from switzerland doesn't seem anywhere near as happy as i am about the trip. once we're at the marina, there are loads of people checking in for different trips... mostly for cruise boats, it seems. the lady came around to size us up for our wetsuit then we wait around for the crew to come collect us. our group is the last to be picked up. john, the blonde one, gathers us around to discuss how the next 3 days are gonna go. he instructs us to buy anything we may have forgotten and that we can't live without for 2 days.... which sends the irish running for the store since they've suddenly decided they, in no way, have enough alcohol to last the journey. we wait around for another 10 minutes while the irish go get a slab of beer then shuffle off to board the boat.

our shoes are stolen from our feet and shoved, unceremoniously, into a large yellow bag which, as it turns out, is especially useful at containing every unpleasant, moldy smell known to man. this is tick one for the water/boat/hiking shoes i brought to be deemed useless. our boat is called "hammer". it's a 75 foot maxi yacht. holds 22 people. we have 17: 1 american, 2 mexican, 2 swiss, 3 italian, 3 german, 6 irish. as we pile on board we're taken below deck and the bunks are doled out. i am given a top bunk. don't get the impression there was any amount of personal space though. there were about 2 feet of head clearance... we all slept within a foot or 2 of another person. john takes us in groups of 4 to teach us about the plumbing system of a boat. our showers are just extendable nozzles on the sink. then we're given a chance to change. it's now 9 something and i'm not about to enter the tropics with 3 hour old sunscreen so i climb onto my bunk to undertake this painful task. i say painful because it's over 100 degrees below deck. it's quite hard to apply sunscreen when you're drenched in sweat and have no room to move. anyway, i'm on a sailboat. i'm not gonna be unhappy about anything.

once we're all coated, our captain, mick, introduces himself and the crew (which consists of john and zac). john and zac are young and handsome. mick is an old, purple, leathery pervert. he takes to calling me miss america. he's convinced he's funny. he's as funny as he is attractive. i kept my opinion to myself but i did tell him i wanted to help sail the boat and he seemed keen to let me do his job. he chats with everyone and finds out 3 of the irish can't swim. really? you're (voluntarily) on a boat in the middle of the ocean. a handful of people have never been on a boat in general. about half have never been on a sailboat. one girl complains about the weather; it's overcast. apparently she was under the impression our captain had some control over this so, clearly, it was a logical complaint. about an hour later the sun has burnt the clouds away and it's mosty toasty and the lovely irish girl who'd complained earlier was now turning a brilliant shade of red. it was quite a cliched assortment of passengers. the europeans wore speedos, the irish started drinking at 9am and were sunburnt by 11, the american was a tan, blonde chick with a smart mouth.

there's no wind to speak of so i flop out on the deck and relax. about 2 hours later we're about to set sail. (did you just sing love shack? i did) 2 of the men and i pull up the main sheet. mick has informed us he intends to tip us enough to dip the rails in the water. this prospect is greeted with mixed enthusiasm. why why why do you get on a racing yacht if you don't like sailing? so i grab a spot along the high side. it's fantastic. the rails are in the water. the irish are crying. everything is gorgeous. the only thing better would be if i were doing the sailing instead of sitting. a couple minutes in, the captain (presumably) sees 1) i'm a single traveler 2) i'm absurdly excited to be sailing 3) i'm comfortable holding my balance while the boat's on an angle. so i'm given the head jerk that i take to mean "come to the back of the boat". mick already knows i've sailed before and says i can take the helm. EEK!

i sail for 3 hours. we're headed to whitehaven beach.

"Whitsunday Island is famous for its world known Whitehaven beach. All of the Whitsundays are made up of coral from the Great Barrier Reef, when coral broke off in storms it turned white as it died, then was deposited on a small mound under the waves. Over millions of years, more dead coral piled up and rose above the sea creating an island, the islands became bigger and bigger and the coral was crushed by the wind and waves and turned into some of the purest white sand. Plant seeds were carried across the ocean and landed on the islands and the trees grew into forests that are stll there today. This is where Whitehaven beach got its name and why the Whitsunday islands' beaches are so white."

mick took over sailing a little while before we dropped anchor a bit off the island. we went in 2 shifts to the island in the dingy. the side we started on was a rocky beach with trees and bush crowded along the shoreline. john took us for a hike up the hill to a lookout point to get the best views of the island. there were a couple other boats there. i felt boring and touristy. the hike was more of a march up the hill. it was achingly hot. the air made me feel like i was stuck in the shrinking insect room with indy. it's a protected island so i couldn't steal pebbles or sand along the way. live action museum. once we got to the top, john pointed out the direction in which we could go if we wanted to spend the afternoon on the beach, the direction of the lookout, and the direction back to the boat. apparently, these instructions proved troublesome for past visitors so he was adamant and spoke to us like we were 4. i was waiting for my map and compass, but he finished up and headed for the lookout.

i know you're expecting me to tell you this is the most beautiful beach i've ever seen. that the water couldn't be more blue or the sand more white. unfortunately, i can't form a convincing argument against that. it's breathtaking. and relatively untouched (clearly the lookout, paths, and bridges were purposefully placed). no shops, no houses, just white sand sandwiched between turquoise water and tropical forest, with tiny islands dotting the horizon. postcard perfect. we all hang out at the lookout for a while... just looking... out... and taking loads of pictures. people start dropping off at different times heading in different directions. i'm amazed and have a hard time tearing myself away until i remember that "away" means actually getting in the water i've been ogling. there are black things swimming around in the water.... john tells us they're sting rays. they're huge. i want to swim with one... but not get steve irwin-ed. so i eventually walk to the beach with helen from switzerland. she's forgotten her stinger suit so she can't go in the water. really?? we walk through the woods to the beach. the trees are labeled and it's a lovely walk but i'm now literally melting from the heat and, unfortunately, i'm probably not appreciating the scenery as much as i should be. but oh my goodness.... once we get to the beach...

the sand feels like flour. it's powdery. and perfect. 98% pure silica. if i were more daring i would've tried to steal some... but that $10,000 fine weighed heavy. so i wriggled into my suit, in the tropical heat.... which i'm sure was enormously attractive. (think ross trying to get into the leather pants....) helen from switzerland takes some pictures for me (cause what else is she gonna do for the next 5 hours?). then i headed for the water cause i'm on fire... wondering a little about whether a stinger will get my hands, feet, or head... but not enough to keep from dunking myself directly into the drink. once i've brought my blood below boiling point, i realize i'm standing next to a sting ray. it's little and grey. i took about 40 pictures then decided to keep exploring. then, there's a tiny yellowish shark by my feet. again with the pictures, but it basically matched the sand and unless you stare at the pictures like those migraine inducing posters with hidden sailboats from the 90's, you can't see it very well. sad. oh well. walked/swam around for a couple hours and saw loads of other sea creatures- no underwater camera. spent a little time laying on the sand. walked around some more... saw a gould's goanna (lizard). followed it around a bit. then it was time to head back to the other side of the island (how very LOST sounding) and get picked up by the dingy. talked to the irish a little while we were waiting on the boat- most are painfully sunburnt already and (owing to the fact they brought beer onto the island) more than a little bit tipsy.

tried to remove all the sand on the suit and my person before getting back on board... enjoyed the cold shower at the back of the boat (this was my only shower)... then reloaded on sunscreen and flopped on the deck to enjoy the views. mick let me sail again after a bit while the crew made supper. since i was sailing, i didn't get to enjoy the appetizer with the rest of the passengers. mick, being the decripid debauchee he is, offered to share his "captain's special nachos" with me. i stole all his jalapeños and ran back to the wheel. i got to sail the rest of the way to where we intended to moor the boat for the night. i got us perfectly within a range of hooking the buoy. yessss. the mexican couple needed to make a phone call to book their bus for the next day. the payphone was beside a bar. mick called the owner of the bar on the island beside us to ask if we could crash the place late but he wasn't in the mood to stay open past closing (8:00) even though 20 people were going to come give him their money. so we didn't rush through supper- which consisted of chicken in some sort of yummy sauce and a salad. the mexicans still needed to use the payphone though so mick was gonna take them ashore. asked if i wanted to tag along... so i grabbed a flashlight and jumped in the dingy and away we went. it's dark. very very dark. i'm happy. the mexicans aren't happy. we have to get out of the dingy into the black water and walk across rocks to get to the bridge. this takes them a while- the poor girl is petrified. mind you, i scream when things i can't see touch me in the water... so i felt sorry for the lady... but still.

there were these stick legged birds all over the place. they walked right up onto the deck with us while we were waiting for the couple to make their call. the bar owner came out and talked to us a bit. mick and i played the bimini ring game. (the game where you extend a ring attached to a string back and then let go and try to hook it on a hook on the wall...) i won. then we played where you have to swing it past once then hook it on the second swing. i won again. he didn't succeed in any of his double swings. and yes, it was taking an extraordinary amount of time to make a phone call... but their phone card wasn't working... eventually they ended up using the captain's cell phone so it turned into a trip just to let me play bimini. on the ride back to the boat, mick played with the propeller and the water fizzed with phosphorescence. i just hung my head over the side and shined the flashlight on everything underneath me. back on the boat everyone was drinking and listening to music. i claimed a spot at the front as my bed (captain said we could sleep on deck if we wanted). i hung my head over the edge and watched the bat fish swim around. there were a few other fish that the captain pointed out but i, of course, forgot them (since i wanted to remember). he gave me some bread to throw overboard. the phorphorescence followed the bait fish around. i can't describe how happy i was. i can't. then i turned over. and there were 3048209348209384 stars. and i was even more happy. and everything was upside down ... (being the southern hemisphere and all). the only time i got up was to go tie knots with mick. he asked which ones i knew and then taught me 100 new ones. great night for me. and yes, everyone else continued to get drunk and party. and no, i didn't interact with anyone.

people started passing out. i curled up and stared at the stars until i started to get sleepy. the captain, as i've said, was a pervert and tried to get fresh with me. very uncool. it started pouring rain. i stayed out anyway and just got drenched. hard to sleep with rain on my face (and a captain that kept harassing me) so i eventually went into the cabin (through the emergency hatch cause the irish were passed out near the stairs). fell asleep easily with the constant rocking- loved it so so so much.

---