Close encounters in Cairns

The big event in Cairns in July was the 55th wedding anniversary of Les and Norma Maunder.

What a fantastic milestone!

Les, an eminence grise among Cairns’ retired business community is Carol’s first cousin, son of her late Auntie Doreen and Arthur Maunder.

Above right: at the Balaclava Hotel, from left: Les and Norma Maunder, Ron Doolan, Carol and sister Kay Bertini and Kay's husband Paul.

Right, Les explaining how he survived 55 years of marriage.

We were most fortunate to be able to join Les and the unflappable and ever-young Norma when they celebrated at the Balaclava Hotel joined by their five adult children and several other cousins.

From left: Andrew and Monique Maunder, Suellen Maunder, Helen Joy and Michael Maunder, Michael's son Harrison, Gordon and
Lyn Pecotich, and David
Maunder.

It was a real buzz to reconnect with people we hadn’t seen for years, most of whom in one way or another are related to the original Dossettos who came to the region in 1870.

And to top it off, Carol’s sister Kay and her husband Paul Bertini came up from Brisbane to join in the fun and adventure.

Family stalwarts

After speeches which stressed Les’ and Norma’s role as family stalwarts Les got up to say that two words summed up the secret to success in marriage: ‘Yes, dear.”

But he didn’t say who should say them – maybe both parties.

Anyhow, it was great to join in and meet the cousins again.

Gordonvale gold

We parked our van at the home of Carol’s cousin Pam Goldsworthy in the pretty township of Gordonvale.

Pam’s husband Peter is a retired crane owner-driver and number six among 13 children.

The boulders in Babinda.

He and Pam took us on a tour of some of the beautiful rainforest settings as well as to where his family had a cane farm in Babinda. Not surprisingly the Goldsworthys had a road named after them (see picture).



Peter and Pam, and the road that points to Goldsworthy.

I must mention that thanks to Peter I was able to have a burnt-out clutch repaired at short notice and for the right price.



















Josephine Falls, near where the trail commences up Mt Bartle Frere, at 1,622 metres the tallest mountain in Queensland.





In Cairns itself we were surprised at the amount of development, not only in the city and esplanade precinct, but also in the suburbs. Don't get me wrong -- Cairns is a beautiful city set against the tropical Kuranda range -- but the traffic is becoming conspicuously heavy, especially at peak-hour.

Cairns Marina.









On the Cairns Esplanade.









Gathering of the Doolan clan

One person into development, particularly building fit-outs is the GM of CCW cabinet works Daryl Doolan, son of Carol’s cousin Lorraine and her husband Ron who are semi-retired on the Atherton Tableland breeding stud cattle.

Daryl kindly invited us to his home in Cairns for morning tea to meet his delightful family and those of his sisters Margaret and Suzanne.

Above, from left: Kerrie and Daryl Doolan, Margaret and Sebastian 'Sibby' Torrisi, and Suzanne and Jason Fowler.

It was terrific to catch up with them, particularly the children, as charming and effervescent a group as you could hope to meet.

Typically, Carol homed in on Margaret and Sibby's’s new baby Vince, born a month earlier.


Carol with Margaret and Sibby's one month old son Vince.













Ron and Lorraine Doolan's grandchildren, from left, back row: Joshua Fowler, Sinead Doolan, Lucia Torrisi, Hannah and Samantha Doolan. Front row: Nadia Torrisi, Jessica Fowler, Jacinta Torrisi and Abby Fowler.











Poseuse: Kay Bertini, Pam Goldsworthy, Norma Maunder, Lorraine Doolan and Carol.









Morton moment

Before signing off on this web log I have to mention that I had the good fortune to see our dear friends Ken and Jill Morton briefly before they left Cairns for Sydney after holidaying in Port Douglas. Ken promised that we'd go sailing on his 32ft. Cavalier when we're back in Sydney.

With Ken and Jill Morton at Cairns airport.

Onward and upward -- our next trip is to Cooktown and then back to Cairns for more family events – watch this space.

Dunked and dusted

The high point of our travels into north Queensland so far has been our day trip to Dunk Island.

Right: Dunk at dusk on a full moon.

There we did a 12 kilometre-plus walk through luxuriant tropical rainforest topped off with a “dunking’ for me in a most deliciously cool and inviting sea.

Carol preferred to put her feet up at the island café with a cup of tea and a copy of Marcus Clarke’s For the Term of his Natural Life (the tea at $4 and the book $1 at Vinnies give an insight into the local economy).

Right: Dunk jetty, with the cafe at left.

Dunk, right opposite South Mission Beach, the location of our van park, is one of 20 islands in the vicinity.

Right: South Mission Beach.

Mission Beach is a pretty tropical strip closer to the Great Barrier Reef than any other part of the mainland.

It’s a bit like Noosa 30 or 40 years ago – before the developers hit their straps.

Right: Downtown Mission Beach.

We chose a 27-seat water taxi to make the passage, which was an experience in itself. The taxi drops anchor and reverses towards the beach, letting out the slack, then lifts its twin 250 hp outboards prior to grounding the stern.

Super skipper

Passengers wade knee-deep into the water and climb aboard through a stern gangway. The boat is then winched into deep water via the anchor rope before the motors are lowered and fired up.

Above right: arrival at Dunk Island.

Our skipper was Nathan, a man-mountain who could have been a sumo wrestler in another life (I’m sure he was chosen on weight to keep the bow down during acceleration) yet he welcomed us aboard with a soft, velvety voice not unlike that of the late Michael Jackson.

Right: Dunk Island, with the resort obscured by coconut trees at left.

Anyhow, it took only 10 bumpy minutes to make the crossing. We then put on our sneakers, donned our backpacks and headed off past the resort and into the rainforest.

The longest walk is a 9.2-kilometre circuit through dense forest that climbs to a ridge and then cuts across the island to Coconut Beach south and back past the airport runway to the resort.

We added another three kilometres at the start by diverting to Muggy Beach and then via a steep climb to Mt Kootaloo, a lookout 250 metres above sea level.

Right: time for a break on our trek.

I have to say the trek, though no easy stroll was most stimulating. The lush canopy, alien tree shapes, vines and
sounds of the forest made for a different world.

We unpacked our sandwiches and lunched at the remote and peaceful Coconut Beach about two-thirds along the way before heading home.

Above right: atop Mt Kootaloo. Right: at the end of our walk, I can't resist 'getting dunked'.

Carol said she was worn out at the end, and I have to give her full marks for fortitude.







The abominable cassowary

The Mission Beach region of north Queensland is known as the Cassowary Coast because it has the most intensive populations of cassowaries in Queensland.

Everywhere there are signs warning motorists to slow down and look out for cassowaries.

But we didn’t see any.

I suggested to Carol that to see one we should go on one of the recommended forest walks.

The walk that never was

At the entrance to one of these walks was a sign that said if you encounter a cassowary, be 'cass-o-wary'. Cassowaries weigh up to 60 kilograms and can stand as tall as a human.

If one approaches you, back off slowly and if it continues, hold up an object like a backpack between you and the animal, and continue to back way. Do not turn your back.

That was it. There was NO WAY Carol was going into the bush looking for cassowaries. That walk ended before it began.

I did follow up on a couple of walks on my own and although I saw cassowary footprints and dung heaps, as far as I was concerned they may as well have come from the abominable snowman.

Aviation antics
at Tully tee-off

Tully, a sugar town about 20 minutes’ drive from Mission Beach, has a great nine-hole, 18 tee-points golf course that, like Cardwell, is very good value ($15 for 18 holes).

Naturally we took advantage of the opportunity to sharpen our shots.

The region is also famous for its skydiving. At any time a plane is likely to fly overhead and you’ll hear the crackle of parachutes opening and skydivers floating down to Mission Beach or nearby.

The planes take off and land at Tully airport from a grass runway that runs adjacent to and parallel with the 6th (and 15th) fairway.

The way I have been slicing lately I thought I would hit one as it screamed past only 90 metres away.

The locals told us no one has ever hit a plane but they do come close, as you can see by these pictures taken just after we teed off at the 6th.

These pictures show how close the airport runway is to the 6th fairway at the Tully Country Club.







We’d stay longer and
play more golf, but it’s time to leave Cardwell Shire for Cairns. In the meantime, here’s a terrific picture that Carol took at dawn off the beach just before we left Cardwell.

The prodigal keys

There is only one thing worse than losing your mobile phone.

That is losing the keys to your caravan.

And especially on your wife’s birthday when you’ve both arrived ‘home’ on a hot afternoon after a long and exhausting walk.

Not only are you locked out of the van, but also the car, because the car keys are inside the van.

This happened on our second day at Cardwell, a delightful beachside town right opposite the northern tip of Hinchinbrook Island, Australia’s largest island national park.

Right: Carol enjoying 'the best' cream bun on her birthday.

On our walk I wore a small backpack with water bottle, insect repellent, camera and the keys.

The walk took us to the Post Office, the bakery where we were told they make the best cream buns on the coast, a mobile pie shop selling the best pies, a bush trail and then return – all up about 8 kilometres.

Right: The marina at Port Hinchinbrook and below, view of the port with Hinchinbrook Island across the channel.

“The keys must have fallen out when I was taking your photo eating the cream bun or the pie, or when I took out the water bottle,” I said.

But nothing could forestall the inevitable tirade, after which I decided to don backpack again and retrace our steps, leaving a forlorn and angry Carol with $20 and a promise that all would be well soon.

No-one had handed keys into the Post Office or the cream bun shop. The mobile pie shop had sold out and left. So I pushed on to do the bush walk again and return back along the roadway.

It was at this point that I came by a mobile coffee vendor that we’d previously avoided. Something within me suggested I check with them.

Had anyone handed in a set of keys? The woman barista gave me a knowing look, put her hand under the counter and held up…yes, yes, YES! The keys! Someone had found them nearby.

At that very moment Carol turned up in the Pajero. Russel, a neighbouring vannie, had removed a fly screen from an open window (see picture above) and accessed our car keys.

After expressing our gratitude to the coffee people, we headed back, with Carol’s admonition ringing in my ears that I could never again be trusted with mobile phones, keys, wallets or anything else of value.

"Well, you married me," I said, in a voice too low to be heard.

That evening, we invited our neighbours over for a drink to celebrate her birthday and our good fortune.

And yes, we will be making a duplicate door key.

Magnetic Island revisited

Before we relegate memory of Townsville, I should mention our ferry trip to Magnetic island.

We last visited the island as star-struck teens in 1963 (see the black and white photo below taken around that time in Brisbane).

Right, Carol says goodbye to one of our friends at the Townsville Show.

Back then we’d travelled on the Sunlander to Cairns where I met many of Carol’s iconic relatives, people like Auntie Doreen and Uncle Arthur Maunder, Ron and Lorraine Doolan, Pat and Joy Baird, Malcolm and Fay Earle, Pam Dosseto, Brian and Pat Conlan, and many others.

(We hope to catch up with those who are still around and their progeny when we hit Cairns in a couple of weeks).

Right, the Red Baron taxis out of Townsville marina as we board the ferry to Magnetic Island.

Anyhow, on that trip Malcolm and Fay loaned us their car - a Morris Oxford I think - and we drove to Townsville, staying at Louth’s Hotel which was owned by another of Carol’s myriad relations.

Right, the old jetty at Picnic Bay.

It was then, on a hot and blissful day that we were drawn to Magnetic Island. We took the ferry over, spent a few hours exploring Picnic Bay and headed back, feeling like intrepid adventurers.

Now, as ‘old heads’, nostalgia got the better of us and we simply had to revisit. We took a fast ferry, disembarked at Nelly Bay, now one of those condo-marina combos, and rode the bus around the island.

Not unexpectedly, we found a lot of new development but the old jetty at Picnic Bay once used by ferries was still intact, and the beach just as it was 46 years ago.

Right, the strip at Horseshoe Bay.

We agreed that the most interesting and romantic part of the island is Horseshoe Bay on the far side, with its beach, anchorage for yachts and comely village.

We went for a stroll along the beach and passed a young German couple sunbaking. The fellow, who was naked except for a hat covering his groin, asked if I would take a photo of them, which I did, recalling our own brash youth.

Right, Horseshoe Bay.

The spell was broken when I had to admit to Carol before boarding the ferry that I couldn’t find the return tickets and we had to shell out another $30 to get back.

Right, on the Strand at Townsville and below what we looked like 46 years ago.

Fond farewell

Before heading off to Cardwell, we had a farewell coffee on Townsville’s Strand with Carol’s cousin Margaret Anstey and her husband Jim whom we mentioned in our last web log.

Have another look at the old photo and note Carol’s outfit. Margaret, a couturier, made it for her when they lived in Brisbane in the early ‘60s. Carol recalled that Margaret also made her engagement outfit.

We can report that Margaret is still as busy and creative as ever with her designs.

Right, farewell coffee with Jim and Margaret Anstey on the Strand.

Golfer’s dream

One final word before we depart Cardwell for Mission Beach. I have to mention that we played golf here on a course that must be the best value of any we’ve encountered.

It’s a nine-hole course with 18 tee-up points, challenging in parts with water, a couple of dog-legs and long par 5 holes. If you’re a visitor you are entitled to the ‘corporate rate’, which is $15 for unlimited games. Not bad!

I also have to say a big 'thank you' to Rossco, our neighbour in Cardwell, for the generous gift of of frozen fish and prawns. The fish he'd caught a little while back, but when Rossco took me fishing, all I caught was a golden toadfish and he a sunken log.