.....Summer in Missouri

From Tasmania at around 10C to Missouri in the mid 30sC in 24 hours is a more than a bit of a shock to the system! I'm here for the eighteenth meeting of the International Association for Astacology, to meet all my crayfish pals, drink beer and swap stories for a week. That's what conferences are for, aren't they?

The trip over was no bother, except that my suitcase thought we were going to San Antonio again, and got to Dallas before someone caught up with it and delivered it here to Columbia, 24 hours later. I arrived a couple of days early, partly to take a look around and partly because I forgot about the International Date Line. In the event this was a Good Thing. I spent the first day (sock-less), exploring Columbia and the University of Missouri campus (which takes up a major part of the town). I'd hoped to buy some fresh socks, but downtown Columbia is stronger on coffee and pizza than on socks, but I coped and tried to stay out in the fresh air.

The "Mizzou" campus is impressive for its stock of neo-classical buildings, and indeed its sheer scale. Columns are big in Columbia, and the reasons stand in front of Jesse Hall, the centrepiece of the campus. The university was the first west of the Missouri River and the original building was on the grand scale, with great columns supporting its portico. But someone decided that the crowning dome would be a good place for a store of munitions (Civil War?), but the building caught fire...... and all that is left are the columns.

Jesse Hall, the epicentre of the Mizzou campus.

Note the columns.

Ecclesiastical, eh?

Actually, its the Students Union building.

Having got my bag I was able to dress appropriately (shorts and teeshirt) and I hired a car to get out and see some birds at the Eagle Bluffs Conservation area, which is a restored wetland of many hectares on the floodplain of the Missouri. It was only a few miles out of town, and the traffic here is a good deal more placid than in Texas. But oh my it was hot, and so humid that it almost felt as though you could swim through the air. By lunchtime I had to retreat and find food, which I did at "Lucy's", the only option in MacBaine, Missouri.

Eagle Bluffs wetlands.

So hot, so humid.

Missouri River.

The only place where mosquitos were a bother.

Lucy's, at MacBaine.

Airconditioned refuge, with cold beer (lite, of course).

Swarm of tiny fish in a Missouri backwater.

Back out again I saw plenty of birds, to say nothing of frogs, turtles, jack rabbits and a raccoon. But the strangest thing was a noise that came rapidly from behind me, sounding like the crackle that comes before a big crack of thunder. But the sky was blue, what on earth....? And then half a dozen deer erupted from the dense corn alongside the levee I was walking on at full speed, so fast that one of the bucks had a whole sweet corn plant entangled in his antlers! They kept running for more than a kilometre, and indeed all the wildlife here is very wary of people and even cars, suggesting that they get shot at quite often.

I've been conferencing for a day now, renewing old friendships and listening to some interesting talks, but needing a jumper n the lecture theatre because the aircon is set so cold! It's a pleasure to get back outside, at least for a while.

In the middle day of the conference they took us out for the day to the Shaw Nature Reserve, which is an annexe of the Missouri Botanic Garden, one of the world's great botanic gardens. They started up at Shaw when the air pollution in St Louis started killing the plants in the 1930s. It's a patch of upland forest, some restored tall grass prairie, wetlands and rivers (with crayfish). We had a sweaty, but interesting, afternoon being guided around.

Shaw Nature Reserve.

Lots of flowers. I didn't catch the name.

Insects too.

Some gorgeous butterflies.

But this was the main event.

Meramac River.

Slightly frustrated crayfish biologists, since the water was too high to get into the river.

Now (Friday) the conference has finished officially, but we are off for a two day tour tomorrow.

And finally, hats off to Tasmanian giant freshwater crayfish legend, Todd Walsh and wife Bronwyn, who have travelled to the conference and beyond with Oscar (3), and Vincent (10 months). And the boys behaved wonderfully.

Todd & Bronwyn, with Oscar and Vincent.

Temperature at least 34C, humidity in the 90s!

Winter in Tassie.......

Just a quickie to set up the huge contrast that I'm experiencing now (see next post).

Mid-winter is the time for the second (and much less-desirable) wader count of the year. Last year it involved a long walk along the beach; this year I only had to walk a couple of hundred metres, but the trade-off was that I had to be up at 6.00 am to make the crossing to Robbins Island. This can only be done at low tide in a 4WD, guided by someone who knows the way across the complex banks and channels (think Sands of Dee, or the Solway Firth).

Google Earth's view of Robbins Island. The island is about 20 km east to west.

We cross slightly west of the southernmost point.

And of course it's pretty dark at 7.00 on a mid-winter morning, and completely dark at 6.30pm, which was when we made the return trip. We travelled in the back of a Parks and Wildlife ute and our guide was John Hammond, who leases Robbins Island to run wagyu cattle which he sells to Japan. I appreciated his local knowledge as we were coming back; the route is marked with reflective posts, but it zig zags all over the place, so who knows which of those shiny reflections comes next?

Between those two crossings there was a lot of waiting around, before and after the hour or so so of formal counting around high tide. Fortunately there is a warm and dry hut just opposite our counting site at Wallaby Island, so Gary, my counting partner, and I were able to brew up before and after.

The Wallaby Island Hut.

It might not look much, but it's very welcome.

Inside the hut.

The floor is woodchips

And did we see anything? Not much is expected in the winter count since most, but not all, the migratory waders ought to be in Siberia, doing their reproductive business. But as it happened there were a number of birds that had decided to stay with us, probably first year birds. We saw a couple of the bog-standard Red-necked Stints, but also some Eastern Curlews with their ridiculous beaks, and a Whimbrel, all of which made the other counters quite jealous, the more so because our site was sheltered from the very sharp and squally westerly wind.

Our counting station.

High tide.

And at low tide.

(I know these are the wrong way round, but Blogger is having an off day)

And here are the curlews.

Excited?

Jeannie stayed home, of course, but loyally got up to see me off, and had restoring hot dinner when I got back.

I blog, therefore I am

I find myself wondering just why I have been so long between posts. It's not that I haven't had the time, so it must be the inclination. I guess a major motivation used to be the Family in Exile in Texas, but I know that there are at least one or two other readers out there who might be interested in our doings.

And then there's the quest for the bloggable......

Well, we do have a view...

But all the leaves are gone now.

Life has largely rotated about Jo, Jac and Marty Roo since they returned in April. We were very glad to have them living downstairs while they got themselves organised, looked for somewhere to live, bought a car etc etc. It was great to have full time access to Marty, or at least "full time" in grandparent-speak, i.e. daylight hours. We found that the downstairs room is far enough from our bedroom to insulate us from any nocturnal activity apart from the bathroom fan. During the day he is a sort randomising influence, and we quickly found that we had forgotten the need to make the house crawler-proof. But Mr Bump didn't come to any serious harm, and neither did the house.

Oooh, Granma's pantry is such fun!

Papa's beer, bags of kiwi fruit......

He's convinced the Morso stove is some kind of robot.

And no, it didn't get lit while he was there.

Games on the floor.

Mind that brandy and dry.

This one may come back to haunt him.

By now, as Jac Wabbit readers will know, they have moved into a delightful little house which is just around the corner, really handy for shared meals, walks and taking Jac to work.

Otherwise, we have been enjoying seeing Hugh, Jess and the boys settle into their new home. The boys have lost of playing space, inside and outside. I'll try to post a bit about their place soon.

Here's Georgie Jacket, at our house.

Cruising III. Adelaide to Fremantle

Oh dear! Like the Cornish Walker I'm feeling the tyranny of keeping up with a sequential blog. I left you somewhere in the Great Australian Bight and since then there has been so much more happening! So let's get the last section of the trip out of the way and clear the decks (har) for some more up to date posts.

Two days of gentle cruising (and a lecture or two) took us to out first port in Western Australia: Esperance. I had been looking forward to these stops since I visited the area years ago on a crayfish collecting expedition and found the coastline very attractive. So it was a pity that we arrived in low cloud and rain. However we still got glimpses of the islands of the Recherche Archipelago, granite tors really, and much higher than I had expected.

Recherche Archipelago, approaching Esperance

The port of Esperance handles more grain and minerals than cruise ships, but we squeezed in alongside the loading derricks with their colony of pigeons and attendant peregrine falcon. We weren't allowed to walk through the busy port, but it was just a short bus ride to the town centre. One of Esperance's claims to fame is that very nearly scored a direct hit from SkyLab when that large lump of space junk fell to earth back in 1979. The town's little museum had a display of SkyLab fragments alongside a delightful assemblage of other items.

Sign on the Esperance Museum

SkyLab fragments, Esperance Museum

Skylab fragments.

They looked, well, kinda primitive.

More Skylab fragments.

It must have been raining bits out there.

Esperance Museum.

It would have pleased Angus.

Startling flowering eucalypt, Esperance.

It was just an overnight cruise to Albany (not All-bany), a larger centre than Esperance, but still in the granite country. Great lumps of granite poke out of the earth in the middle of town. The Albanians were enjoying a weekend fair, and the place seemed busy and developing.

Ship graffiti, Albany wharf.

Granite outcrop, Albany.

I wonder why they call it Dog Rock?

More granite outcrops, Albany.

A bit oppressive for the householders!

Albany centre

Cannon outside Albany Museum.

I think the native were friendly.

The last lap to Fremantle took us a night and half a day, so we rounded Rottnest Island and docked in Freo in the afternoon, in bright, but breezy conditions. Niall and I met up with colleague Pierre Horwitz and some friends for an al fresco meal on the buzzing main drag.

Leaving Albany

Docking in Freo.

Perth CBD on the skyline.

Docking in Freo.

Upwind of the sheep carrier, fortunately.

Getting off the shop was a bit of circus, since (despite the fact that we had already been ashore the previous day) we has to clear customs and immigration before we finally disembarked. The process took forever (with a 07.00 hrs start!) but eventually we were in a taxi with one of the other crew member who was heading back to Portugese Goa for some leave and on our way to the airport. Given the time difference, the trip back to Hobart takes all day, but it was uneventful, and Jeannie met us at 9.30.

Farewell to Holland America!

We had one of these towel sculptures every night, but this was the stand-out.

Cruising II: Hobart to Adelaide

O wad some Power the giftie gie us

To see oursels as ithers see us!
It wad frae mony a blunder free us,
An' foolish notion....

(Robert Burns, To a Louse)

I've often seen the cruise ships coming up the river into Hobart and wondered what impression the visitors get of the place. Well now I've done it for myself, I must say that the approach to Hobart and the port itself make a fine entry to Tasmania, and sitting in the Crows Nest bar with its 180 degree view at night showed off the waterfront to its best advantage.

Battery Point from the ship.

Pity about Empress Towers.

View from the Crows Nest.

It was part of our duty to be in the bar, honest.

It was a day's sailing down to Tasmania from Eden and we woke to find the ship moored off Port Arthur on a perfect morning. As I was doing my morning constitutional around the promenade deck I heard several people come out and say "Wow, look at that" as they looked across the water to the penitentiary and the hills behind. I didn't go ashore ($28 just to step ashore from the tender!). But many did, and we then sailed again at midday around Tasman Island and Cape Pillar into Storm Bay (no storms, but lots of dolphins), and then around the Iron Pot into the Derwent.

Port Arthur.

Tenders taking the visitors ashore.

Cape Pillar, Tasman Island in the distance.

Spectacular coast, lots of wildlife.

I could pick out our house as we sailed up the river, but I wasn't to know that there was no one home (in fact Jeannie arrived home just in time to see the ship disappear behind the trees). Hobart is a good port because passengers can walk off the ship and straight into the town. I did that and met Jeannie and then Hugh and the family, so that I could at least show them the ship from a distance. Sadly I was way too late to organise for them to come aboard. But we had fish and chippies on the wharf and Angus admired it from a distance.

Angus, and Budda's big ship.

That's my ship.

Hugh & Jess, George in the stroller.

The traveler and family.

Note the Holland America tote bag.

After the chippies, we had icecream at Sticky Fingers.

George had some too.

An overnight stay in Hobart allowed me to do some mundane things like get my winter flu shot and go home and do the washing up. Jeannie was busy with the State election, which happened the next day, so I didn't see much of her. Niall earned the undying gratitude of the bar staff by driving them out to Bonorong wildlife park so they could get to see a kangaroo in their rather brief time ashore.

The Volendam in Hobart.

Much closer to the city than in most ports.

We sailed from Hobart at midnight, back up the east coast of Tasmania, between Cape Barren Island and the Tasmanian mainland and then across Bass Strait to Melbourne, another day and night at sea (and consequently lecturing time for us). In Melbourne we met up with an old flatmate of Niall's who took us to St Kilda where we had brunch, browsed the Sunday market and had a beer at the Esplanade Hotel (home of the Gershwin Room and Rockwiz, for those who know).

An evening sailing from Melbourne, just early enough to see our passage through the Heads (it takes two hours to cross the Bay), and much nicer than last year when we sailed out under a pall of smoke from the fires. Niall is always keen for a bit movement in the ship, since he's a good sailor, but we didn't get much. The passage to Adelaide was the roughest and that was certainly nothing to trouble me. It was also interesting from the wildlife angle, since we saw lots of birds and whales, 7 or 8 of the latter blowing at once. Probably humpbacks, but fin and even blue whales are not unknown in this area.

Farewell, Melbourne.

Station Pier.

Adelaide put on a clear blue day for us and I was collected by Paul Charlton and taken off to lunch with his mother Ruth, now in her 93rd year and still firing on all cylinders. Paul is a keen shipping buff, and was able to tell me all about the port, and the Queen Mary II which had been preceding us at several ports a week or so before.

Then it was off for a couple of days sailing across the Great Australian Bight, and I'll leave that till next time.

This has been a displacement activity, really. Jo, Jac and Marty are about to take off from LAX as I write..... correction, they have just taken off!