Redcliffe

[Kyle]It was several days before the rain stopped and the skies started to clear at Double Island Point. Ideally, we would have liked to have a day or so for the trails to dry up before moving on, but the parting clouds only came with a twelve-hour window of tailwinds for the next leg south. Everyone else also saw the forecasts, so within a couple of hours, the boat population in the anchorage was decimated, leaving behind only the weirdos going north.

Our sail was a mild one, with a 50% speed boost from the East Australian Current. When Maryanne handed Begonia over to me for my night watch, we were already leaving the open ocean. All that was left for me to do was navigate the various shipping channels to Redcliffe. It was pleasant sailing on the flat water behind the protection of Moreton Island.

At about 4am, I was doing the rounds of the deck, checking things and tidying up, when I caught some movement out of the corner of my eye. I needed to gybe right then, so I put it out of my mind for the moment. When I was finished, I had another look around and saw a small shadow on the cabin top. It looked like it could have been a leaf rolling or maybe either a big moth or a small bird. I shone my light in its direction and discovered an adorable little tree frog!

A Stowaway! This little guy kept Kyle happy and entertained for hours.

A rain shower went through, which he didn’t seem to like, so he hopped his way under the bimini just above the cabin door. Then he spotted our last coconut swinging in the net hanging from the frame and made the leap to it. He sat where he could keep an eye on me for a while before retreating to the far side, where he promptly fell asleep.

Where had he come from? Tree frogs can swim, but they don’t like saltwater. Begonia hadn’t been tied up to land for weeks. We hadn’t been even ashore for over a week in the dinghy. After thinking about it for a while, the most likely scenario I could come up with was that he had found himself marooned on a floating tree branch during the heavy rains in the Mary River and had taken refuge aboard our boat when the branch passed by our mooring. Since then, he must’ve been hiding out in our mainsail cover until he decided to jump down to the cabin top tonight.

I did a bit of research and decided he was a Dainty Green Tree Frog. His skin can be slightly toxic, producing dysentery-like symptoms if handled too much. DEFINITELY do not try to turn him back into a prince.

Since we were running early, we decided to anchor off of the entrance channel for Newport Marina until our slip was available. The rain increased. We stalled a bit, hoping for a reprieve, but it only came down harder. Eventually, we realized we had no choice but to go out in it. At least the wind was calm, so getting into our slip was easy-peasy. It was now time for hot showers, laundry, and to liberate our little friend.

As a precaution, I put on some gloves and then went to put him in the tub we were going to use for transport. He had previously been so docile, but just before I was able to cup my hand over him, he made a big leap and landed right in the middle of my forehead. When Maryanne went to shoo him towards the tub, he bounced his way down my face and then down my bare arm. At the end, faced with the choice of another really big jump into the unknown or the safety of the tub, he finally chose the tub. Whew! Well, I’m doomed. I never even needed the gloves.

On the advice of a vet who works for the Wildlife Department, we found him a spot in the gardens around the marina that would be moist and free from lawnmowers and weed whackers. He found himself a nice, wide leaf on a plant and stuck himself to the underside out of the rain for a nap.

Kyle deposits the frog in more suitable land-based accommodation

Fortunately, the only symptoms I had were mild paranoia and a sense of anxiety – nothing digestive. To be fair, I had those before meeting the frog. I mean, have you seen the news?

Maryanne wanted our first day in Redcliffe to be a jobs/fun day. What that looks like in reality is long walks in the park between errands carrying an ever-heavier backpack. When it was stuffed full, she saved me the last couple of miles home by calling a cab.

A waterfront walk to see the actual red cliffs (although the lower part is dyed cement to protect what remains of the cliffs)

Beer, BeeGees, Bats - so much to experience

Our next day was for actual fun. We started with a cab ride all of the way to the other side of the peninsula at Woody Point. There, we began with breakfast at the Belvedere Hotel. For some reason, I had pictured something like a cream tea in a grand hotel. Instead, it was pretty indistinguishable from any of the other waterfront cafes. It seemed pretty unnecessary for us to have come all this way for the same breakfast we could have had almost anywhere else.

All so much nicer when the sun shines

Still, we were here and the long walk back along the waterfront would give us something to do with our day. We stopped at the Redcliffe Museum, which was having an exposition on the Eighties. The Australian version looked pretty similar to what we had in the US and UK. There, we were able to definitively settle which one of us is better at the Ms Pac Man tabletop arcade game.

We also got to see Bee Gees Way. This is a pedestrianized block, funded partly by Barry Gibb, that explains the important contribution he and his two brothers made to popular music. Of course, as Australians, the name Brothers Gibb was much too long and was shortened to The Bee Gees. Since their first gigs at the Cavern Club, they shot to stardom, then crossed the ocean to America and become international superstars who changed the course of music forever.

Oh, wait. That’s some British band. The Bee Gees became the icons of the new genre of Disco, fueling whole industries. Disco later became short for Disco Sucks, which made millions in t-shirt and bumper sticker sales. I must say that “Stayin’ Alive” aged better than we all thought it would back then. It is surprisingly catchy. Luckily, I have the “Meow Mix” jingle of the same era to displace it with if it gets stuck in my head.

The rest of the Margate/Redcliffe/Scarborough waterfront is lovely parkland interspersed at convenient intervals by restaurants and cafes to help keep us going to the next one.

We topped off the day with pizza and sundowners at Rick and Ruth’s condo, which is actually closer to the marina office than Begonia’s slip. They are the owners of Waru, who we last saw when they were anchored next to us in Garry’s Anchorage in the Great Sandy Strait when we were northbound last autumn. They were the main reason we had chosen Redcliffe as a stop on the way back south. Rick is a semi-retired pilot who works for air traffic control here, so I can talk to him (intermittently) about aviation stuff without his eyes glazing over. Maryanne could be periodically revived with a kick under the table. I’m kidding, of course. Rick is an all-around interesting guy. Ruth joined the three of us after an evening with friends and the next thing we knew, it was WAY past our bedtime. Time flies, eh? At least it was only a three-minute walk back to the boat.