Monday, 22 August 2016

Whales and Tourists.


If we had left Dog on this beach today she could have seen us boating out to the Whales.

We went out in public today. We ran with the great unwashed as my lovely dad used to call 'em - the pushy, poor-mannered, jumbo sized but think they are tiny and can therefore fit into a non-existent space, by pushing their feral children ahead of 'emselves, tourists who don't give a fuck about orderly cueing and leaving space for everyone to have a little look see.

Yeh we went on a fucking BOAT with these people!

We went whale watching, which is one of the most wonderful things I have ever done, just not on the Goldie.

We ran the gauntlet of Photographer Pete, who really didn't want to take NO for an answer and so followed us onto the boat arguing with us and pushing us for an explanation. We kept walking and asked another crew member about the seating arrangements and because he seemed to think he was the next Billy Connelly he gave us a load of old tosh instead of an answer.

Anyway we found seats that we were happy with and settled  into a game plan which covered the possibility of people pushing in to hinder our view.

The trip out was good and rough and the swell was quite exciting, the only problem was that it was too often accompanied by the misogynist banter of some grubby partly bald, partly grown out dreadlocked old fella, who didn't miss an opportunity to say something shitful about women. I figured almost certainly he had been dumped often, probably every time he open his mouth, cos he was an unfunny bitter dickhead, and when he finally said that any women left on the boat would be 'Jolly Rogered' really I wanted to slap that 'rape is ok with me' look straight off his face.

An Asian girl tried to scamper under the rail and stand right in front of us and Stevie saw her off, and then there was a Pommie woman and her kid who actually did push and slide into our view. I told her off, but it made no difference. It seems that she had missed the British art of cueing lecture, but when the whales moved to another side of the boat she and the off spring buggered off and were not game to return.

I ended up with boobs in my ear and my elbows poking into places I would rather not even think about.

Sometimes I was up for standing and sometimes I wanted to sit down.

The whales were good, but not as wonderful as they were when we saw 'em out from Fraser Island. Perhaps they objected to Pete prostituting them. Yeh there were arrival photos for 20 bucks and whale pictures which might or might not have been the whales we saw or even the Goldie whales, for an extra 25 bucks, but that is just the touristy scam huh?

I decided that for future adventures into public, I should get a T Shirt printed.

I said it could be :'I might look well but actually I have Leukaemia so I might need to sit down and it would be good if you didn't sneeze in my direction.'

Stevie reckons it should be : 'I might look well but actually I am highly contagious.'

This reminded me of the time we were trying to manoeuvre through a horrible crowd in a street in Zadar. 'There were clowns to the left of me jokers to the right' you know the song huh? Anyway we started acting a little nuts, laughing loudly, swaying, swinging our arms about madly, speaking in tongues, calling out to strangers, you know the harmless sort of crazy. A space opened up. We crossed a bridge and there was no one ahead of us and the people behind us had settled way way back. The bridge was ours. Yippee!!

The bus stop also became our own and even though it was the last bus for the night, the whole back of the bus was ours too. Bloody brilliant.

I suppose the lesson learned is that people will stay away if they fear something but are far less likely to pay heed to someone in need.

Yep the 'I'm Contagious' T Shirt is the one I reckon. Maybe the text needs to be in puss yellow, and perhaps I should draw a picture of a vomiting face, or a big old pile of poo.