Australia’s Tahiti: Lord Howe Island | Part III
We have ‘booked’ to stay at Lord Howe Island for three days. Our luxury abode is a ‘boutique’ mooring fit for a queen. Turquoise crystal clear water, a kaleidoscope of shapes and colours beneath Fika’s keel, unique mountain peaks and lush vegetation beckoning us ashore. I wish I had booked for three months!
It is a glorious morning. Whilst Sophie and I are a little bleary eyed, we do not wish to waste a moment. The foot pump huffs into life and the old zodiac inflatable dinghy takes shape. We toss this into the water and lower the outboard onto its transom, find the kill cord and burst the outboard into life. Laden with every camera conceivable, Sophie (un)gracefully hops into the dinghy. Her excitement to explore and capture the islands beauty is infectious.
Ashore, we are greeted by quiet, gentleness, sleepiness, beauty, peace. I do not know how else to describe the instant feeling we both have. An older lady goes past on her electric buggy. There is no other traffic. Oh, I wish to grow old on this island too.
We turn right following the electric buggy. We are both entranced by this island and ooh and aah as we walk along the road. We are both in disbelief that we are in Australian waters. There is that sleepy feel and lushness of a Pacific island. Exotic really.
With the occasional car and a growing number of bicycles, Sophie and I suspect that we have arrived in ‘town’. Town consists of the local hall, a café, a small general store and a hipster bar. There are bicycle stands to rival Amsterdam. There is warmth exuding out of the towns original (circa 1930ish I think) buildings. There appears to be pride, care and love between the timbers of the buildings and the gardens too. Even the street signs are classy.
Sophie and I spend the afternoon walking the streets. There are magnificent Banyan trees and Kentia palm trees unique to Lord Howe Island. The hibiscus are thriving and I resist the urge to collect a bouquet of flowers to adorn Fika saloon table. We follow the sign to Ned’s Beach where we are greeted by what feels like the community hub of the island. With bicycles scattered randomly on the grassy dunes, there are picnic rugs, picnic baskets and small groups of families, friends, colleagues sharing their Friday afternoon together. I ponder out aloud to Sophie… I wish to be adopted by this vibrant community and Sophie utters her wishes be an island resident to.
We continue our walk through the residential streets, marvelling at the modest but beautiful homes. There are shearwater burrows nestled under trees and Lord Howe woodhens rummaging through the leaf matter. We stumble past a sign for the Lord Howe Island Brewery which will be open for the local brew and woodfired pizzas on Saturday night. With a sparkle in our eyes, we look at each other and nod! Tomorrow night is booked. We walk along the foreshore under the Norfolk Pines and head back towards town.
We have a special guest arriving soon. Gerry (husband & Dad) is flying in this afternoon to spend the weekend with us. We have made a tentative rendezvous at the jetty if we do not stumble across each other beforehand. On cue, we spot Gerry wandering along the road heading to the jetty. He has fortuitously received a lift from the airport by a local gentleman and his family. Gerry has found out a little island gossip from this fifth generation resident: just thumb a ride if you need to get back to the airport on Monday. A local will stop and pick you up.
It is Saturday, oh and my birthday today. With excitement, it is my day to plan our outing. A bike ride and picnic is the order of the day. I have a reputation for taking the family on picnics complete with lots of boiled eggs and china crockery sets. I am also renowned for taking everyone on arduous family hikes to ‘just see what’s around the next corner’ only to finish up at a rubbish tip or chased by wild geese! Hee, hee! It’s my birthday and I get to choose.
We zoom ashore in the trusty old zodiac and take ownership of three rickety hire bikes. We spend the day exploring the many quiet roads and tracks to the islands many bays, coves and beaches. The tracks take us through forests of Kentia Palms and along rocky shorelines. We picnic in the protection of a rocky outcrop underneath the behemoth Mount Gower. We look up in awe at the rocky escarpments and soaring seabirds including providence petrels and masked boobies. It is sensory overload. Overwhelmingly beautiful.
After a brief sojourn aboard Fika, at dusk we peddle to the Lord Howe Island Brewery. At the brewery sign, we turn and wobble our way down the rickety driveway feeling a little unsure if we have taken a wrong turn. It feels as though we are just about to enter a private residence. Riding down the dark driveway we are soon greeted by fairy lights guiding us to a courtyard filled with pet dogs, locals, rugs, pizzas and beer. We have found where we belong. We soon join the Saturday evening festivities enjoying woodfired pizza and locally brewed beer. Zig zagging home in the dark, we marvel at the magnificent day we have had.
The birthday celebrations continue and Sunday morning brings with it a new birthday. It is Gerry’s today. We start the days celebrations enjoying shakshuka and the morning warmth of the sun and scenery. With Sophie’s enthusiasm and passion for underwater exploration palpable, there is little doubt regarding the days agenda. It is the lagoon which beckons today.
Following breakfast, we take the dinghy to one of the dinghy moorings. Sophie backflips out of the dinghy before we have even finished tying the painter to the buoy. Her joy makes both Gerry and I feel sprightly and we follow suit plonking into the temperate water. There is sea grass and mauve coloured coral fronds, coral bommies and schools of fish. There is a kaleidoscope of colours to greet our salty eyes. The water clarity is superb. We dive and spiral feeling buoyant, refreshed and alive.
The afternoon is spent lazily resting in the cockpit. Thoughts of leaving in the morning creep into my mind. Oh drats! Thank goodness high water is not until 1100 so there will be no need to rush. We sit and enjoy the last rays of light so grateful to have had this opportunity to sail here.
All too soon, it is Monday morning. The reef and wreck are being engulfed by the rising sea. We say goodbye to Gerry, hoist the outboard, deflate the dinghy and prepare Fika for sea. With a little knot in my stomach we cast the mooring lines free from the buoy and turn towards the Northern Pass to make our exit. Both Sophie and I feel sad to leave so soon but we are both grateful to have had this experience. Once clear of the pass, we raise our sails and alter course for Brisbane. We sit in silence watching Lord Howe sink slowly into the vast ocean and the masked boobies head back to land. We both vow to return again very soon.
