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Published: March 23rd 2014
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After breakfast we strolled along the beach and spent quite a while looking at the rocks of the bluff because of their unusual colours. Most of it is a really strong yellow ochre coloured sandstone, which is very crumbly and full of layers which have been pushed up to all angles, including vertical. Seams of very broken quartz are scattered throughout, too. Another area has the most amazing deep red through to dusky pink.
While we were examining the bluff we spotted movement and a very little young bird came scampering out of a hole at the base. He was soon joined by an adult bird that was squeaking constantly in an attempt to make the baby stay close. He was too adventurous to listen and was having a great time exploring so most of the time was running in the opposite direction. We followed them, at a non-threatening distance, along the cliff bottom. They jumped up onto the big rocks at the point and we lost them from view. A short time later, the adult bird came rushing back, calling loudly, without success. We watched for several minutes and the baby didn’t appear. We were just wondering if the
youngster had been swept off the rocks by a bigger wave and we should go and look for him when he popped out from a completely different area, totally ignoring Mum’s frantic cries. Typical kid! We found out later that this was the Hooded Plover that was nesting on the beach further along the other way. She had originally had two chicks but had lost one and she now took the surviving baby into the rocks during the day to protect it from predatory birds. She finally caught up to him and they headed off back into the rocky point. We left them to it and went back the other way.
We could see the men and children of a Maori family from the caravan park enjoying themselves rough-housing in the water so I decided to test the temperature and have a paddle. It was freezing until you got used to it. I don’t think I would have chosen to swim in it. It was OK for paddling, though.
Behind the family, in the sand near the estuary, was a large tidal pool which seemed to be acting as a nursery for young fish. We saw sandy coloured
An adventurous baby Hooded Plover
Mum is below calling and looking for him and he's up on the rocks, having a great time exploring! baby flathead (or so Barry thought) camouflaged so well at the edges of the pool that you didn’t notice them until they moved; and small silver fish that kept leaping out of the water chasing even tinier fish, that were hiding in the weeds. It was very active! We found one of the little mullet dead on the sand and Barry threw it to a Silver Gull nearby. The gull had to toss it around a bit to get it positioned but it went down in a gulp and he still managed to challenge any other bird that came close, while he was doing it. Gonuff!
For our picnic lunch we went up to Eden Lookout Whale Watching Site. Unfortunately, it’s the wrong time of year to see them – they come past in the winter months. It was a lovely view, though. Barry nearly stepped on a little black lizard, about 5” long, on the wooden deck, before it slipped between the boards and vanished. They move so fast.
After lunch I managed, with a great deal of coaxing, to persuade Barry to take us to “Art on Imlay”, a community arts and crafts shop where the
locals can show and sell their creations. It was very varied – everything from paintings, woodturning and carving, jewellery to natural dyed hand knitted garments (like Mum used to do with her hand spun or wheel spun wool) and a lot of it was extremely good. I would have loved to have bought a few items. No more impulse buying now, I’m afraid.
We spoke to one of the artists and she said how nice it was to live in Eden where everyone knew and looked out for each other, noticing when someone wasn’t there and going to check on them. Maybe I was wrong about it being in decline.
As a reward to Barry for his selflessness (cough, cough), I agreed to go along the wharf and look at the trawlers (not a hardship as I enjoyed it, too). One even had a red dragon painted on the wheelhouse! We watched some boat hands unloading the catch, two days worth, by filling open blue plastic carriers, marked Sydney Fish Market, with fish out of the hold, packed with ice, then attaching each to ropes hanging from high above the deck. Then the fisherman swung it, with great
Eden Wharf Trawler
Swinging the loaded box onto the truck for stacking. Hence the warning to stay clear of the truck! precision, back and in a wide arc up to another man waiting on the back of a truck on the wharf, to catch it. He then passed it to an enormous tattooed strongman who hefted it onto the stack or shifted a stack of six or more boxes to a better location, until the truck was full. Heavy work – and they filled two trucks!
Watching all that hard work gave us a thirst, so we went to a cafe overlooking the wharf for a coffee. Coffee wasn’t very good but the view was great. Just around the corner was a seafood shop “Hooked on Seafood” which sold fish and chips and fresh fish which had come straight of their own trawler (no Sydney Market for those!). I couldn’t pass up the chance to try more fresh fish! One of the fish we’d seen being unloaded was Redfish, which I’d never tried so I bought one for me (it was whole and still full of bones so Barry didn’t want it) and some Pink Ling fillets (no bones – for Barry!!) I also got us each 2 enormous mussels, grown on the mussel beds in the town.
When we got back to the van, I cooked them in the Camp Kitchen so I didn’t stink the van out. The mussels had a good flavour, and the Red Fish but the Pink Ling was definitely the stand out – very tender, sweet and delicious. We’ll have that again!
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Snap Shot Stacey
Snap Shot Stacey
Lovely
It looks like polished wood!