Tales of the journeys of a piecemeal adventurer as a discontinuous narrative
It’s the last supermoon for 2021
The air is clear and crisp on the western side of the Atherton Tableland in tropical Queensland
And the moon slowly emerges from the clouds that hang over the mountains.
Heading west into the outback over the next few weeks the moons glow will wane
The bright stars of the Southern Hemisphere will then shine at the brightest.
Occupying the night
In the dark sky of outback Australia.
The total eclipse is the big daddy of Luna shows
The stadium superconcert
All the wow factor
At Cape Byron, the Eastern most point of Australia
Sunset played the support act
Warming up the crowd
Luna finally emerged staying a little coy
Using the Cape Byron Lighthouse to tease the audience
Peaking cheekily around the stone edifice
Soon, though, the show warmed up Luna out on full show casting beams of gold and silver across the sea.
Dancing with her band the clouds
Then in the second set the magic started
The amazing disappearing act
The giant white orb shrinking away to a tiny orange sliver
To the eye no bigger than a star
Only to re emerge in a new red costume
With an edge of silver bling
What a show
The wind was cold on the Cape so I missed the final act of return to silver.
I sailed the coasts before the days of GPS
The light of the moon and the coded flashes of lighthouse welcome companions
Like a brother and sister guiding the night sailor.
But now I’m not on a yacht but on the Steinbock again, my BMW adventure bike
I’m on the Eastern most point of Australia, heading north then West and later this year will be at the continents Western Point
Traversing the Savannah Way right across topical Australia
Thanks Luna for your blessings and for a great show to start the new adventure.
The phrase ‘all at sea’
Comes from a time past, where ship navigation was much less certain
No GPS or accurate weather forecasts
I learnt to sail in the pre GPS days
In days of dead reckoning, bearing compases, cocked hats, noon sights, star sights and sextant
And you best friend was a lighthouse
At the entrance to ports, like the Point Lonsdale Light at the entrance to Port Phillip
Or looming large over dangerous headlands
Like at Cape Liptrap
Or at Cape Schank
While at sea
Companions at sea are the sea birds, terns, shearwaters and gannets
And of course the playful dolphins
Then finding that safe harbour
Or the sheltered cove
Its good to be all at sea again.
It is into the 4th month of lockdown in Melbourne, Australia.
Movement is very restricted but lucky for me the Bay is near at hand.
One of the activities, one of places that soothes me is an evening ride along the Williamstown to Altona.
I have learnt to watch the colours of the sky, and know the spots to get the best views intimately.
Might have been my years of sailing that makes me such an avid weather watcher.
I can tell as the sun slowly sets that there is going to be a beautiful show tonight.
The early stages of of the sunset reaches across the bay and lights up the CBD.
There is the perfect moment when the sun reflects of the city’s glass towers making it glow before the cities artificial lights try to steal the show.
Its hard to believe from this angle that the metropolis is quiet and largely deserted as it sparkles in the sunset.
Its a short ride over a little ford to my favourite viewing point to see the birdlife on Koroit Creek
This night it is the swans gliding and feeding on the creek up near the ford, under the reddening sky
By the the time I reach the estuary end of the creek the fiery sunset is reflected in the still water
At the Jawbone Marine Sanctuary the last minutes of the suns day is an orange smudge across the sky
Gotta say in these difficult times, to be able to be in and rejoice the natural beauty nearby is a special tonic.
I check the lights on my cycle and head home.
There is a little place I go
A peaceful place that juts all so slightly, out into the bay
At the right time of the year
On the the night of a full moon
On a still cloudless night
When the water of the bay is smooth like the surface of a mirror
I can watch the moonrise
I can watch the sunset
Simultaneously
Look to the east and the moon makes its ascent
At first pale in the twilight
She creeps higher and higher slowly asserting her power over the night sky
Its her night
Once a month she fills the sky
As she rises its as if she is pushing the big red globe of the sun below the horizon
The sun as if in anger fills the sky with orange red
As if unwilling to leave the sky stage for the moons solo performance
Casting a pinkish reflected glow in the moons direction
But the suns end is inevitable
Soon the moon dominates the sky
less pale, more bright
casting her silver beam across the water.
The vapour pale of a jet
A rare sight in the Melbourne lockdown
Like a knife slash across the sunset sky.
Its a warm evening
Early spring
The first full moon of the spring equinox here in the southern hemisphere
I cycle around the peninsula
To catch the moon as she reaches her full glory
And there she is filling the sky with her soft silver light
Her glow sparkling on the water.