Lady Musgrave Island
Brad, Bec and I travelled up to Bundaberg today, a short trip for Oz at only 1 hour and 20 mins, but not before bumping into the Hornchurch geezers at the bus station at Hervey Bay! They'd done the job on their hair, slappin' on the old Sunnin in the hope of turning it blonde, but it had gone ginger. Had to laugh. Loudly.
The hostel we arrived at was superb, run by a real old couple, Mom-and-Pop type place, complete with Bible in every room. Just in case my Satanic side came out. We'd decided to travel the 400 kms or so up the coast so that Bradley and Bec could get a look at the Great Barrier Reef - Brad was off to NZ soon, and Bec probably won't make it up this way again.
The $105 day trip took us 2 1/2 hours off the coast to Lady Musgrave Island, named after some bint who was the wife of a state governor, or something. Well, it's at least better than Fraser Island, named after the wife of the bloke who pranged his ship there. The island, when we arrived, was just like a desert island, funnily enough. We could see the waves breaking on the outer reef, a strange sight to see out in the middle of the ocean. Also strange was that the water was only 6m deep. After a brief little trip in the semi-submersible, we spent the rest of the day snorkelling on the coral reef, checking out all the little fishes. The trip organisers did a fish feed at one point, so I leapt in the water to get a better look; I got thumped on the back almost immediately by a huge trout! The bloke pointed out all the different fish to the onlookers, whilst throwing fish food on me. "There's a trout", he said, "There's a stripy, and over there is a mad English bloke". Fair enough.
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