Farewell Dougie

Doug was a rescue pug whose life took a wonderful turn for the better when he was adopted by Liz about eight years ago. Doug’s paperwork said he was seven at the time.

Doug formed a great bond with Liz to the exclusion of other dogs and humans. He was Liz’s constant shadow.

Sadly, Dougie reached the end of his life a few days ago at the age of fifteen.

Doug and Liz meet for the first time 8 years ago. Doug is unaware he is about to start living the dream. He was an energetic ball of muscle and could run like the wind in directions and for distances of his choice. He was independent of spirit and treated commands as merely advice for his consideration. In public places such as beaches or dog parks the only way we could retain some modicum of self respect as dog owners when giving Doug ‘commands’ (which he received as advice or suggestions) was to add the words “when you’re ready”. That way Doug could never be accused of disobedience and we could not be accused of being idiot owners of an untrained dog.
L to R: Max (who died about 2 years ago) and Doug. That is an active ducted heating vent behind them which as a team they monopolised on cold days. Max was a cross between a pug and a cavalier King Charles spaniel. Dougie was a cross between a pug and something else unknown to us. Max had a longer nose than Doug. We decided to adopt Doug at a time when Max was failing fast, and was not expected to make old bones. But good old Maxie rallied and lived on happily for another enjoyable five years. Three dogs are a lot more work than two. While we didn’t plan for a long period with three dogs, we enjoyed it thoroughly. We are now down to one dog – the gracefully ageing little Minnie.
Doug was particularly fond of an open fire, and would sit in close proximity until his hair was just about smoking unless encouraged to move back a little or at least change sides.
These fashionable winter knits did not have many outings. When we upgraded our car, for a short time we harboured the fantasy that these jumpers would limit the coating of all interior surfaces with dog hair when our dogs travelled in the back seat.
L to R: Minne, Doug and Max on active guard duty – tails in the air signal alertness.
Max, Doug and Minnie staring unblinkingly in the direction from which they believe (correctly) a snack is about to appear.
No sniper ever held a steadier unblinking gaze than these three when food was in the cross hairs. That’s Doug in the middle.
Doug passing on the brain addling ear flapping head shaking performance of his step siblings after a brief wade in the ocean. Doug just let the water drip off in its own good time. We had to teach Doug to swim. When we first put him in the Barham River out of his depth, he simply went vertical with all legs flailing ineffectually, barely keeping his head above water and making zero forward progress. When tilted to the horizontal the flailing legs instantly turned into effective propulsion, his head stayed above water, and he took to it like pug to water. That was all it took – one swimming lesson. He enjoyed swimming thereafter, more so in calm river waters than shore break in the ocean. Maxie was always a great swimmer as his bowed front legs and splayed toes were perfect paddles for underwater propulsion.
Doug was fond of a pillow, cushion, quilt or rug – when a lap wasn’t available.

Doug took a while to adapt to being in his seatbelt on the back seat of the car with the other two dogs. He initially claimed seat space by pretending he was the only one on the seat (image above left) and putting up with the minor discomfort of lying on another dog. The dog jigsaw was eventually amicably worked out and they all learned to sleep on the seat rather than each other. The three of them were excellent travellers and would sleep from the time the car doors shut to when the engine was switched off, whether the trip was five minutes or three hours long. This was just as well as they all had many trips between Melbourne and Apollo Bay. The dog ‘doughnuts’ shown below were a great success for travel comfort.

If an armchair or a lap was not available, warm bricks in the afternoon sun would do for Doug.

Sudokus and crosswords – Dougie was equally helpful with both.

On warmer days, Doug (and Minnie) would keep watch over Liz if she had a siesta on the couch on the verandah.
Doug adoring Liz in front of the open fire on a wintery night. Minnie travelling economy class yet again with Doug’s rear end and tail in her face.
Dougie liked to do his Pilates at the same time as Liz. His program was not as active as Liz’s. The rubber mat was the only equipment Doug used in his session. His meditation game was particularly strong.
Dusk at Apollo Bay in front of the open fire between the hours of midnight and midnight, Doug’s favourite snoozing time.
Sometimes the outdoor furniture had to be shared.
Sometimes Doug got a solo session on the outdoor chairs on the deck.
This photo was taken just a few weeks ago. Doug had just turned fifteen years old, and Minnie was just about to turn sixteen. Dougie had totally lost all hearing by this stage, but this disability had no effect on his response to our commands on walks or anywhere else.
Dear old Dougie in his final days. He had all but lost the use of his back legs and life was getting just too difficult for him. He died peacefully in Liz’s arms. (Photo by Liz)

Dougie was stoical right to the end and continued to find enjoyment in his simple routines and familiar surrounds, and most of all in being in close proximity to Liz. Thanks to Lizzie’s unfailing care of him, Dougie truly lived the dream for the last eight years.

Dougie, we’ll miss you.

Rough seas in an easterly blow at Apollo Bay

Swimmers and surfers stay out of the water and boats tend not to leave their moorings and pens in the harbour when there is a strong easterly blow at Apollo Bay. A number of shipwrecks in the area have occurred on lee shores in conditions such as these. The sea conditions created by wind waves brought by strong easterlies differ in a number of respects from the conditions typically associated with large ocean swells from the south west. But both are a spectacle to behold.

Before the harbour and this breakwater were built, a single long jetty and anything tied up to it used to take the full force of seas such as this.
The harbour is a safe and peaceful location for boats and swimmers in conditions such as these.
Sea water does get past the wall, but it hasn’t got much punch left by the time it does. Swimming in the lee of this breakwater in strong easterly conditions is pleasant on two counts – the water is glassy, and there are periodical water drops pinging off our swimming caps from the spray of the larger waves which hit the breakwater. I had an early 1km swim in the harbour on the day this photo was taken.
The ocean has right of way where it intersects with pedestrians.
Marcus inspecting the breakwater.
No windsocks needed around here (even though there is one on the fish co-op)when there are boats moored from only the bow in these (largely) current-free waters.
Not all craft moored in the harbour fare equally well in an easterly blow. There is enough fetch across the harbour from east to west to create chop and whitecaps on the western side where these dinghies were tied up.
This is the harbour mouth as seen from the ocean side. The dark rocks on the left are the northern tip of the eastern breakwater. The sailing club rooms can be seen just left of the spray in the centre of the image. Such conditions probably go some way to explaining the absence of small boat activity at the time this photo was taken. I imagine it’s the actual harbour mouth with its shallow water, breaking waves and proximity to solid objects that would deter sailors more than the conditions out to sea.
The Kia Ora III safe in its pen near the harbour mouth. The rocks on the right are the northern tip of the eastern breakwater. Boats shown here had a bit more movement while moored in these conditions than the boats in pens further inside the harbour.
If you had to exit the harbour in a small boat, this would not be the precise moment to give it the gun and head out with all this white water on the starboard side (I’m not a formally qualified sailor, but I know my rights).
Taken from the middle of the road in front of my house. Nature’s way of saying ‘swim in the harbour today’.
I returned to the harbour after lunch when the tide was lower. The waves were performing on cue and the light was a bit brighter.
The western dredge buoy. On occasions, friends and I use this as a turn point on longer swims around the bay. It’s 300m from the harbour mouth, 500m from the beach in front of the SLSC and 600m from the steps to the beach at the end of my street (Tuxion).
Safe haven.

Catching a few waves on the surf ski at Apollo Bay

The surf ski is one of my favourite ocean toys. A previous post on this blog contains photos and detailed descriptions of the ski in action from many perspectives. See:

https://southernoceanblog.com/2019/04/26/things-ive-seen-from-my-surf-ski-at-apollo-bay/

In contrast this post contains videos and photos taken with a GoPro from one angle only – a camera mounted on the back deck of the ski. They were all taken in a single paddle session yesterday afternoon just after the low tide in perfect swell conditions for the ski. Many sets were breaking around the corner of the harbour mouth (where a couple of surfers had a reliable right to themselves), and some of the bigger sets were breaking across the middle of the bay. Despite very crowded beaches, I had the big green-wave part of the bay entirely to myself.

This is the GPS track of my ski session as recorded by my Garmin swimming watch. For the record, I was in the water for 50 minutes and travelled 3.7kms. It was much more fun than those bare numbers might indicate.

Launching from the harbour

The main beach was crowded both on the sand and in the water. So I opted for a quiet and calm launching spot in the harbour (where I often swim when conditions in the bay are not suitable).
The serenity of the paddle out through the boats and across the seagrass was a contrast to the conditions waiting just through the harbour mouth.
Leaving the harbour between sets.

Through the harbour mouth to the surf

An eskimo roll on this ski is not possible. But a refreshing and surprising half roll without notice is entirely possible. All it takes is a moment’s inattention. The ocean now had my attention. I remained upright for the rest of the session.
There were some solid sets marching through. I let a couple go through to the keeper to see what was on offer before I paddled for my first wave.

The first wave of the day

Video

This was a nice green wave which was easily caught. On the ski, most waves are easily caught. You don’t need much of a wave to get a ride. The slight weight redistribution achieved by leaning forward as I paddle to catch a wave helps considerably.
As this wave neared shallower water it began to show signs of breaking so I exited to the right. The rudder is operated by foot pedals. A paddle blade in the water can also assist in a turn on the wave as a course correction, or to turn 180° and exit over the back of the wave. Here I had the left blade in the water to steady the ski as I was about to be completely abeam the wave which was steepening. This is a point which tests balance and use of the paddle to stay upright.
There is no reason I couldn’t have stayed with the wave after it broke, but I do like the clean speed and ride on an unbroken green wave.

The wave of the session

Video

This was the biggest wave I caught this session. It steepened quickly behind me, requiring only a couple of paddle strokes before the tail rose and the nose dipped down as the wave picked me up and propelled me shorewards. After catching it I generally stay in touch with the water via a paddle blade to stay on course (pointing straight at the shore, or perhaps turning left or right a bit to go along the wave). It’s a great feeling gliding effortlessly across the bay at 20+kph without paddling..
The moment the wave reached me and the tail lifted, the nose was at risk of going underwater. That arc of spray is from the bow being partly buried. I am leaning well back in this photo to get my weight back as far as possible to stop the nose burying itself in the water. (This is the exact opposite of the ‘leaning forward’ technique mentioned above, used when paddling for a wave which is barely steep enough to catch). If the nose does go under, of course the ski goes over. Catching a larger steeper wave and staying in control of the ski is exhilarating.
Not long after I caught it this wave broke behind me. Because it was one of the bigger waves, the white water didn’t just spill gently down the face. It broke solidly and suddenly, with a lot of water completely covering the back half of the ski and hitting me in the back. The ski can easily broach at this point and rudder and paddle blade can be useless to stop it once it starts. Best to get in early. Fast and strong use of the paddle for balance can save the day, but sometimes there is so much water hitting paddler and ski side on that a roll and dismount (refreshing as always) still happen. The early preventative step to take is to lean forward and paddle hard when the wave is about to break, keeping as much of the ski ahead of the white water as possible. This tends to keep the ski more stable.
Until I owned a GoPro, I had no idea there was this much water this close to me on such a wave.
Having decided to exit this wave to the left, the left blade has gone into the water as well as full left rudder being applied, and the ski turns back in a gentle arc to the calm water behind the wave. When abeam the wave as shown, there is a risk of coming off the ski. But I stayed upright on this wave throughout.
Temporary green ledge to rest my left arm on.

A 60 second ride from the harbour mouth to the beach

Video

I took this ride from near the harbour mouth all the way into the beach near the corner of the breakwater wall. It was a 60 second ride. There was some breaking wave action behind me on the way in, but not as much as on the earlier larger wave.
Riding a wave right to shore here involved threading carefully between swimmers and all sorts of things that float. You can’t afford to let the ski get out of control and broach, because the broken wave will take it all the way in and as it’s 18 feet long, it has potential to injure swimmers who don’t or can’t get out of the way. Better to keep it pointed at the shore and to paddle hard if necessary in the shore break to stay on course. That is of course, provided there is reasonable room for the ski to come ashore safely nose first or sideways, as there was on this ride.

This young fellow came up beside me and started a conversation about my ski. After a bit of a chat, his enthusiasm for the ski being obvious, he accepted my offer to taking the captain’s seat and the paddle for a moment or two to see how it felt. He seemed to enjoy that.

Final paddle into the calm of the harbour

After my wave ride into the shore, I paddled back out close to the breakwater (where there are less breaking waves) to the harbour mouth. I didn’t have to slow down too much to comply with the 5 knot speed limit.
The compass pole in the harbour. This is marker around which we often swim. This pole is used by fishing boats and other boats to moor on when swinging the vessel’s compass. This involves measuring minor errors in the magnetic compass readings attributable to interference with the earth’s magnetic field by metallic objects on the boat. The precise errors on various headings are measured and recorded on a compass deviation card (usually fixed to the compass or somewhere very close to it). So if e.g. the boat is actually pointing due magnetic north (360°M), the compass due to interference from objects on the boat may read 357°. This information is recorded on a deviation card which permits the captain or navigator to compensate when using the vessel’s compass to allow him to steer an accurate magnetic course.
Such peace and tranquility in the harbour after the session in good surf.
A most satisfying session ended as peacefully as it started.

A short and beautiful swim

Much of my ocean swimming is done alone. But when I swim out to the reef at the southern end of Mounts Bay, I like to swim with company. Conditions looked good for the reef swim on the low tide around mid morning today so I rang some possible starters to swim with me but they were unable to join me. So a solo swim it was.

The bay between the reef and Hayley Point was not crowded. There was a low tide of 0.7m, no swell and an offshore wind. I was wading in waist deep water at this point.
On the swim out to the reef I duck dived a few times and did some low passes over the sandy seabed in the channel. I have seen better underwater visibility, but the water was certainly clear enough for an enjoyable swim-tour along the fringe of the reef.
As I swam out to the reef I lined up a rocky feature on the reef with a second reference point on the hills in the background to identify which way the current was moving. The current varied across the short swim and this morning it was most noticeable near the shore and near the reef. But at no times was it a problem.
The seabed between the shore and the reef is pure sand without a single rock or marine plant. But the rocky fringe of the reef is covered in a profusion of marine plant life. This was the view as I neared the reef from the west.
Shafts of sunlight illuminating the reef plant life. The ocean here looks and feels so nutrient rich.
Towards the southern end of the reef, the water in the channel I swam across is much deeper than it is at the northern end. The underwater fringe of the reef slopes down at quite an angle.
Looking south to Hayley Point as I cruised over the shallows beside the reef. The aqua water on the top right is the sandy channel between the reef and the beach..
The plants in the water close to the reef were in constant motion as gentle currents swirled around them.
Bull kelp attached to a rocky underwater outcrop of the reef.
I saw quite a few small fish in this area.
The view due south from the kelp beds beside the reef – Hayley Point on the right. There is a shallow pass in the reef out of frame to the left here which you can swim through to get to the eastern side of the reef. It is full of healthy giant bull kelp which is enjoyable to swim over and through on a low tide, especially in a wetsuit.
I had my usual ocean swim at Apollo Bay this morning which I enjoyed. But the ocean and the underwater views at this reef in these gentle conditions are something else.
My relaxing swim back to shore started from this point. A solo swim at this reef in conditions such as these is a very special privilege.

Wind and Waves

The constant and ever-changing backdrop to life in Apollo Bay is the ocean. Swells come and go on the west coast of Victoria, unlike the wind which blows most days. The size of the swell is determined by storms in higher latitudes deep in the Southern Ocean. The strength and direction of the wind on the reefs and beaches where the waves complete their journey determine the nature and quality of the waves as they reach the reef or shore on which they break.

Little Henty Reef – solid swell in an offshore nor’westerly

This sequence of three images taken in rapid succession shows a sizeable wave breaking about 600m east of Hayley Point on Little Henty Reef. The wind was directly offshore.

This was solid swell. The volume of water in this wave is apparent from the fact that it had already broken over the shallow water above the reef (see the curtain of breaking white and green water forming something of a barrel in the centre of the image), yet there was so much water pushing forward that a second curtain of white water has pushed over the top of the first creating a second lip and curtain of water. In my experience this is not a common feature of a breaking wave.
The two green triangles of breaking water on the right of the image must have been caused by two underwater promontories on the reef lifting these parts of the wave causing them to break ahead of the rest. I have seen and photographed this feature of this wave on many occasions, albeit that it takes different forms depending on the tide, the wind and the size of the wave. Obviously a much shallower part of the reef is beneath the breaking wave on the left of the image. The unbroken section on the right must have deeper water beneath it.

Little Henty Reef – below the surface

The section of Little Henty Reef closest to shore is partially exposed at low tide. It is a swim of between 100m and 300m from shore depending on where you start and whether you swim to the northern or southern end of it. Currents are usually present in the little bay between this reef and the shore, and their direction and strength determine which part of the reef to aim for on the swim out. Swell, tides and currents can create conditions in which it would not be safe to swim out to this reef. I have never swum out to the reef when there were no currents.

I took these three photos on a leisurely solo swim out to the reef on a low tide in early January, when there was not much swell or wind. There was however a solid current flowing parallel to the reef. This photo shows the dense beds of algae in the shallows around the perimeter of the reef.
This was near the southern end of the inshore reef, and as shown by the marine plants the current was flowing and swirling constantly.
After swimming around the reef over the kelp beds which surround it, I swam north of the reef to the open beach for a play in the clean glassy little waves of the shore break. This is a breaking wave not far from shore, shown from the inside.

Apollo Bay back beach – small swell in an offshore westerly

Mounts Bay is the next bay directly south of Apollo Bay. Point Bunbury separates the two bays. Hayley Point and Little Henty reef are at the southern end of Mounts Bay. Locals refer to this stretch of beach as the back beach.

This small swell, looking tidy and groomed courtesy of a steady offshore westerly wind, was breaking around the middle of the Mounts Bay beach. There is a well established sand bar not far from shore here and the waves were essentially closing out (breaking along a long section at the same time, rather than from left to right or right to left) upon reaching the sand bar. There is a shallow channel between these two lines of breaking waves.
This long boarder was not deterred by the constant supply of closeout sets. He spent most of the time while I was watching sitting on his board, and negotiating white water as wave after wave closed out in front of him (and on top of him). I didn’t see him catch an unbroken green section of a wave – but he did get up his board for a few brief rides on the white water after the wave had broken. At least he avoided the slightly busier lineup a little further up the beach.
Up the beach from where the waves were closing out, there was a more rideable break a bit further offshore. These waves were peeling nicely, and a handful of surfers were catching a lot of waves and clearly enjoying themselves. This photo and the next were taken when the surfers were out of frame to the left, paddling back out after their rides. The low point with the sandy beach is Point Bunbury.
The offshore wind working its magic on small clean swell. A quite rideable left in the foreground.
Certainly not overcrowded.
This photo is the first of a sequence of three. This young bloke was catching at least his share of waves, and acquitting himself well on the rides I saw.
To get serious ‘air’ you need a bit of speed for which you need a wave perhaps a little steeper (and ideally larger) than this one. He did well to get his board around 180° while airborne, but instead of continuing to rotate, the nose dug in and he exited stage right. Good attempt.

Shark Warning

Sharks are always in the ocean. The only things that vary for swimmers and surfers in relation to sharks are how close they are, and if a shark is close, being aware of that fact. There are desirable and undesirable modes of achieving such awareness.

On the left below is the GPS track of a recent pre-breakfast 1000m solo swim of mine in the harbour. As shown, I turned around at the harbour mouth. All I saw there was a very large stingray on the seabed, which I often see in that area. I didn’t see any sharks and had no concern about sharks posing any threat to me. Upon returning home, I received a reliable message (from a friend who assumed I had yet to go for my swim) that a shark had been sighted at the harbour mouth heading out to sea. The sighting was around the time I was swimming. Around mid-morning (by which time the shark would’ve been well out to sea or kms along the coast), the Dorsal shark app on my iPhone published the location of the sighting at the harbour mouth (top right image below). A little later the surf life savers had placed the standard shark warning sign on the beach.

This shark sighting demonstrates nothing more than the self-evident proposition that sharks are in the sea, and if you go in the sea, you will be in the sea with sharks. It also demonstrates that warning systems (apart from shark sirens and surf lifesavers clearing people out of the water approximately contemporaneously with a shark sighting) such as an app or a sign on the beach, are by reason of delay largely of historical interest and amount to shutting the gate after the horse has bolted.

I assume on every ocean swim at Apollo Bay that I might at some point be swimming within radar range of a shark minding its own business. I further assume that it’s highly likely that it will have no interest in me. There are numerous types of shark in the area, most of which pose no threat to humans. But if I see a shark fin while I am swimming I will leave the water for a while. On this point, see the postscript to an earlier post on this blog:

https://southernoceanblog.com/2020/05/03/storm-surf/

But the history of the interaction of sharks and people in the water at Apollo Bay is that humans eat a lot of flake, but the sharks leave humans alone. Being partial to the occasional piece of battered flake with my chips, I do hope there’s nothing in the karma thing.

Looking beyond Apollo Bay, records show that the last fatal shark attack in Victoria was at Portsea in 1956.

I think there is a direct parallel between the risk of shark attack at Apollo Bay and the risk posed by venomous snakes on bush walks in the area. On the first 1-2kms of the Great Ocean Walk which commences at Apollo Bay, it appears there is a resident sizeable tiger snake which likes to snooze on the walking path. Its presence has surprised many walkers. I have seen it at close quarters on that track (in mid-winter) and so have many of my friends (all year round). No-one has been bitten or threatened. There are of course plenty of other snakes on that walk, especially in summer.

But save for a generic snake warning at the start of the Great Ocean Walk, there is no ‘recent snake sighting’ warning system. Nor is there a snake sighting app as far as I know. Snakes are in the bush. Sharks are in the sea. Enjoy the bush and the ocean while taking sensible precautions regarding these and any other low level risks.

Little Henty Reef – moderate swell in an onshore southerly

A couple of days ago there was a moderate swell at Apollo Bay. The onshore southerly wind meant the water was a bit rougher and the waves a little less regular than they would have been in offshore or nil wind conditions.

The notchy uneven horizon is a reliable indicator of swell at sea.
You’d need to tighten up your swimming goggles (and perhaps even your Speedos) to duck dive under these waves.
In the aqua barrel of momentarily smooth fast flowing water (just right of centre in the image) is a length of bull kelp going over the falls. A swimmer or surfer in the wrong spot at the wrong time would have a similarly exhilarating experience. But it would have an unpleasant ending as that aqua water is about to smash on the exposed (or very shallow) reef under it. The mass of white water rising in front of that wave has already hit the reef and ricocheted skywards.
After the wave initially broke over the reef, it rapidly changed form and size as it dissipated its energy over the extensive shallow reef beneath it. While a mini barrel can be seen in this photo, it was short lived. The whole wave smashed into chaotic white water shortly after this shot was taken.
This is the first of a sequence of three photos of a single wave taken in rapid succession. This was a larger wave which commenced to break in the shallower water some distance seaward of the exposed part of the reef.
With or without a surfboard, it would be a memorable duck dive under this wave at this point.

The Ocean at Rest

Cape Patton photographed from Apollo Bay beach (Tuxion) under a rising full moon. The thin white line at top right is a meteor.

Beauty Hiding in Plain Sight

Nature provides special events in and around Apollo Bay from time to time, against a backdrop of spectacles equally beautiful and awe-inspiring but perhaps less appreciated because they are available all the time. The photos below could have been taken in and around Apollo Bay virtually anytime in daylight hours.

Towering mountain ash in cool temperate rainforest

Mountain ash dominating the upper storey of this forest in the Otway Ranges.
Silhouettes against a cloudy but bright sky.
Mountain ash standing tall in the cool temperate rain forest through which Turton’s Track passes.
Such mighty trees require substantial bases.
Mountain ash in the morning mist deep in the Otway Ranges. It was perfectly silent except for the birds. This photo gives some indication of the great variety and profusion of plant life in this ancient rainforest.

The white-faced heron

Late afternoon low flight over Wild Dog Creek near Apollo Bay.
I cannot resist observing that in addition to the lift from these powerful wings the perfect aerofoil curve of the upper body of the heron would also create lift. The undercarriage is neatly retracted and streamlined to minimise drag during flight.
What magnificent lift and thrust generators these wings are.
Pausing for a moment on the beach between Wild Dog Creek and the ocean. Slightly less prepossessing than when in flight, but still elegant. Legs built for wading. Knees that articulate in the opposite direction to human knees. Neck and beak perfectly designed for fishing and foraging.

Masked lapwing chick

Masked lapwing chick handling the challenge of head-high uncut lawn.
Adult masked lapwing.

The little corella

The little corella (the adjective being supplied by the bird namer, not me) is found in a wide variety of habitats in Australia, including the coast and semi-arid inland areas. They are typically found in flocks and smaller groups. It has a short crest which can be raised or lowered at the bird’s discretion. These birds are common around Apollo Bay, albeit not as common as galahs or sulphur-crested cockatoos.
The setting sun shone through a gap in the clouds for a brief period, bathing this little corella in ‘golden hour’ light. Not sure what the ‘right wing extended’ signal means, but it could certainly be read from a great distance. It may have been simply waving at a passing friend.
Clear for takeoff. The golden hour had ended and twilight was beginning. These photos of the little corella were taken in the eucalypts along the banks of Milford Creek in Apollo Bay.

Strong south westerly winds on the coast

The effect of a strong south westerly wind on the ocean close to shore depends on which way a particular beach is facing. At this east facing beach in Mounts Bay (just south of Apollo Bay), the wind was pretty much offshore (blowing from the shore to the sea) which blew the tops off the breaking waves creating these clouds of white spray. The position and arc of this surfboard reminded me very much of the way dolphins and other sea creatures spear out of the water behind waves in exuberant short flight. It was interesting to see what a riderless surfboard gets up to when left to its own devices in the surf.
Little Henty Reef juts out into the sea near Hayley Point, exposing it to the full force of the south westerly wind. The sea close to the lee side of this rocky outcrop (near the foot of the image) is slightly protected from such a wind. The Australian fur seals to whom this reef is home, or short stay accommodation, were not deluged by these seas because while they were rough, there was not a large swell associated with it. But they would have been constantly damp from the spray. They didn’t seem to mind.

Swell and a Northerly Wind at Little Henty Reef

The northerly wind blows directly into the swell at Little Henty Reef, creating the white manes of spray shown. When swell above a certain size hits this reef, it inevitably creates an aqua barrel. Huge waves create big barrels. Smaller waves create tight little barrels as shown in this image. An interesting feature of the light in these breaking waves is that even on dull days (which this was not) when the sea is not particularly blue or green or any colour, the inside of the barrel is always vivid aqua….the emerald eye of the wave.
Slightly bigger wave, more water throwing out in the lip and consequently a bigger barrel. The reef is partially exposed as water is sucked out in front of the advancing wave.
This was probably the biggest wave I saw that morning (but well short of the biggest waves I have seen here). The reef is fully exposed as the water sucks out in front of the breaking wave. This is the reason I have no photos of surfers on this wave.
When the lip of a sizeable wave throws out in front and smashes on the reef, a large volume of water ricochets skywards as shown here. The forces are amazing, given that each cubic metre of water weights one tonne. The force is multiplied by the fact that it is moving at speed when it hits the reef. The rather mutant shapes on the breaking wave on the right reflect the variable topography of the seabed and reef immediately beneath that water.

A couple of bars of slide guitar

My gracefully ageing Martin 000-28H lives on its stand in my lounge room on permanent standby for my regular short performances to an empty room. Sometimes the performance lasts less than 30 seconds, sometimes slightly longer.

Morning Ocean Swim (and a King Parrot)

The ocean at Apollo Bay is cool in summer and cold in winter. This is exactly how a group of ocean swimming locals like it. They swim all year round and have been doing so for many years. There are about 20 swimmers in total and on any given day at least a few of them (usually more) will meet at ‘the wall’ for a short swim or a longer swim as the mood takes them. The swim goes ahead in most weather and sea conditions, save for those brought by very strong winds from the east or thereabouts. Photos of such conditions are in an earlier post at: https://southernoceanblog.com/2020/10/28/easterly-seas-at-apollo-bay/ . There is always a convivial post-swim catch up over coffee at one of the local cafes.

‘The wall’ is where the stone harbour-wall meets the beach. This is the meeting and starting point for the daily morning swims. These eight were heading in for their Saturday morning swim. There are varying levels of fitness and swimming experience and ability in the group, which are accommodated comfortably by each person swimming on a route of their choice at a pace of their choosing. Some swim in pairs, but larger groupings are rare.
Catching up with each other is an important feature for all the swimmers. So the pre-swim chat, the post swim chat and the chat during a breather at the turn point are never hurried. But in winter the duration of the chat at a turn point can be determined by swimmers needing to resume swimming to stay warm.
The standard routine is to enter the water without rushing. Some wet their face to begin the adaptation to cold water. Everyone wets their goggles. L to R: Will, Aileen, Marion, Boo, Sue N, Sonja, Caroline and Jenny.
I included this shot for the unusual spectacle on the horizon on the left. This is part of the payload and superstructure of a large container ship traversing Bass Strait from west to east. This ship was well out to sea. But as I was taking these photos 600m or so from the swimmers entering the water, the foreshortening effect of the telephoto lens created the illusion of proximity shown.
And they’re off. But it’s not a race. Every now and then some swimmers will casually initiate or accept the challenge of an undeclared race, but it’s all in good spirit. This photo shows another feature of this group – they have only done half a dozen strokes each here and yet they are already heading off in different directions. This always occurs. There is generally a gathering at the turn point, but on the return trip the group once again spreads across the bay at different speeds and in different directions. This adds up to varied arrival times. While there were ten swimmers in the water this morning, at no point was it possible to capture them all in the one photo, either in or out of the water. Independence in the water is the norm.
This demonstrates well the difference between ships and boats. It has been expressed this way: a boat can be carried on a ship but a ship cannot be carried on a boat.
A ninth swimmer (Susan M) arrives just after the others had started swimming. Three swimmers can be seen swimming over an unbroken wave. Not long after Susan arrived, a tenth swimmer (Jim) also joined those already swimming.
Swimmer in the foreground (Will), ship in the background. I was taking photos from a raised vantage point. Will would not have been able to see this ship on the horizon beyond the harbour walls.
The orange buoy is one of the reliable seaward markers provided the sea isn’t too rough. It is one of two used by the harbour dredge to anchor while it clears sand from the harbour mouth. It is about 500m off the beach at the SLSC. On occasions we have used it as a turn marker for a longer 1500m or 2km swim. Will is on the far left, Sonja is directly in line with the buoy and that’s Jenny’s left arm on the right between the waves. The notched horizon is a good indication that there was definitely some swell around this morning.
L to R: Boo, Caroline, Susan M and Sue N. having a leisurely chat at their selected turn point. These five would have swum 500-600m this morning. Marion, not with the group at this point, may have swum further.
Marion (in the pink cap) joined this group at their rest/chat/turn point, probably after swimming a little further north on her own.
Sonja heading back towards the wall after a brief stop at the turn point opposite the servo. Sonja, Aileen, Jenny, Will and Jim would have swum around 1200m all up.
Jenny swimming over a wave showing signs of breaking. As a general rule green water is preferred on a distance swim, but there is no problem duck diving under breaking waves – it just becomes a slower swim.
Jenny cresting a line of green swell. It is exhilarating swimming beyond the surf zone when there are lines of green swell rolling across the bay. Being lifted and lowered on rolling swell is one of the many pleasures of ocean swimming.
Aileen and Jim on the return trip.
L to R: Boo, Susan M, Sonja and Caroline. Not sure if Caroline is forcefully making a point to Boo, or whether they are both leaning against a current or wave.
Jenny and Jim chatting in the shore break at the end of their swim as Aileen swims towards them.
The swim ends. The enjoyment of the company continues. Apollo Bay ocean swimmers reliably turning up virtually every morning of the year for a swim in the company of whoever else turns up, without any specific arrangement, is a wonderful thing.

Portrait of a King Parrot

There is no smooth segue between the topics ‘ocean swim’ and ‘king parrot’, save perhaps for saying just that. So, moving right along and seeing we are now discussing parrots, this juvenile male king parrot landed on the verandah rail at my house and looked at me through a window as I sat reading the newspaper. He hopped around and stared straight at me, as if beckoning me to come outside. I fetched my camera and went outside and he walked along the verandah rail to a position close to me. He was utterly unfazed by being near me. In fact he was much friendlier and more relaxed than the magpies which visit me quite regularly.

He was a most sociable and cooperative subject for this impromptu portrait sitting.

I was not close to the bird for these closeups. I had a telephoto lens on the camera, and had to increase my distance from the bird to take these shots. Sometimes this took several attempts as he would keep walking towards me after I had walked back a bit.
Neck extended and feathers streamlined.
Neck shortened and feathers fluffed out.
Beautiful pose. The sheen on the feathers on his back caught my eye.
At maturity this male will have bright red feathers all over his head and underparts. His wings will remain bright green, with a light green (almost pale blue) stripe on the inner leading edge of his wings (which is partially visible in this photo). His upper beak will be bright orange, in contrast to the female’s dark brown upper beak. There will be hints of deep blue in his dark tail feathers. A dazzling bird, in flight and perched.
What a treat to receive a visit from this exotic and friendly native bird.

Ocean Swimmers at Little Henty Reef

Little Henty Reef lies just a short swim off Hayley Point at Marengo on the west coast of Victoria. The reef and adjacent waters are part of the Marengo Reefs Marine Sanctuary.

There are days when it is unsafe to swim at Little Henty Reef. Early this morning conditions for an ocean swim there were perfect. Clear blue skies, no wind, no swell and only a light south-to-north tidal current in the bay between the reef and Marengo beach. The water was cool and clear. This morning I swam with Mary, Michelle Sue and Susie – all regular local ocean swimmers.

The two parts of the reef as seen from above Marengo Beach. That’s Cape Patton on the far left of the horizon. This photo and the next two were taken by Andrew Langmead using a drone. The reef in the foreground is the one we swam out to this morning. Unlike the winter conditions shown, we had clear blue skies, no wind and no swell.
This shows the northern tip of the reef closest to the shore where the photos below were taken.
The photos of swimmers below were taken along the edge of the reef on the left in this image. Yesterday Michelle and I swam right around this part of the reef. The golden bull kelp was one of many sights that made that swim well worthwhile.
Hayley Point and some of the Marengo houses. Mary, Michelle, Susie and Sue entering the water this morning. It always brings a smile to see the clarity of the water in the shallows looking like this when walking into the sea for a swim.
Hayley Point from sea level. Water that looks like this brings an even bigger smile to the face of an ocean swimmer.
The view straight ahead just after I commenced my swim east to the reef.
Michelle arriving at the reef stroking strongly. Michelle, Mary and Susie together with three other local ocean swimmers (Heather, Sonja and Jenny) swam across the Rip in February this year (3.2kms across the entrance to Port Phillip Bay between Point Nepean and Point Lonsdale, a notorious stretch of water even for shipping). (See https://southernoceanblog.com/2020/02/22/six-apollo-bay-ocean-swimmers-swam-across-the-rip-today/ ). These six all trained up and improved their stroke and endurance for that swim. The benefits have been permanent.
The small bay we swam across to the reef has a white sandy seabed, which gets deeper as you go south. The seaweed begins close to the reef. Having a destination to swim to, even if not an epic voyage, adds greatly to the pleasure of an ocean swim. Clear water and things to see under the water add even more.
Michelle flying stylishly in slow motion with the reef and the morning sun behind her.
Michelle gliding through filtered morning light.
Mary in her element.
Mary finding the flow.
A sloping garden of marine plants on the side of the reef. On the right at greater depth is the seabed.
The water was clearest in the shallow water around the reef.
Brown algae and a host of other plants flourish in the shallows near the reef.
Dashes of colour amongst the forests of algae.
Luxuriant marine plants in exceptionally clear water.
Looking down into deeper water away from the reef.
Mary swimming the reef’s low tide maze.

Susie descending effortlessly to the seabed.

Susie is a great swimmer, and completely at home in the sea. Here she is thoughtfully giving the photographer a friendly wave.

Little Henty Reef has featured on this blog since it began with my first post in June 2017. If you’re interested in seeing the reef in other moods:

https://southernoceanblog.com/2020/06/30/winter-swim-around-little-henty-reef/

https://southernoceanblog.com/2020/01/13/my-first-underwater-look-at-little-henty-reef/

https://southernoceanblog.com/2017/11/01/large-southern-ocean-swell-pounds-local-reefs/

https://southernoceanblog.com/2017/06/25/winter-swell-at-little-henty-reef/

https://southernoceanblog.com/2017/06/24/the-henty-firing-in-a-big-swell/

Ocean Swimmers joined by Wild Dolphin

This morning on my ocean swim with friends at Apollo Bay a wild dolphin appeared in the water very close to us and a remarkable encounter followed.

Sue saw some dolphins up close near the harbour wall. The next contact was when a single dolphin surfaced right beside Michelle and Mary about 150m offshore and 300m+ north of the wall where we entered the water. I swam across 30-40m to join them upon hearing the exhilaration and excitement in their voices at what they had just experienced. The dolphin disappeared momentarily then surfaced again right beside Mary and greeted the three of us. Then Sonja and Vicki joined us, and a series of unhurried wonderful audiences with this dolphin followed. Susie was doing a longer swim, but joined us and saw the dolphin up close on her return leg. The pattern of the encounters was simple. The dolphin would disappear after spending time with us, the pod of swimmers would briefly resume swimming north, and the dolphin would reappear and repeat. Eventually it didn’t reappear, and we think it may have gone out to sea a little to feed. By this stage we were 450-500m from the wall. The return swim seemed effortless, mainly because my thoughts were consumed with what we had just experienced.

Wonderful aspects of this dolphin choosing to swim with us included seeing it in smooth and powerful motion at much less than arms’ length from us. Each of us experienced the dolphin surfacing, porpoising and diving with effortless power and verve at very close quarters.

A couple of times the dolphin swam directly beneath me at a distance of a metre or so, and rolled on its back as it glided past me. The visibility underwater wasn’t great. But I could see enough to have no hesitation, despite needing a breath, in leaving my face in the water until it swam out of visual range. It surfaced right beside me at one point and I saw its whole head and blowhole out of the water at very close range, as well as its back and dorsal fin. The front of its head was lighter in colour than its body, which was various shades of grey. There were scuff marks on its body and dorsal fin which were no doubt a unique record of this creature’s life in the ocean. The texture of its skin could easily be seen – it looked solid but smooth and rubbery. The water flowing over and around its body flashed in the sunlight. The swimmers were reasonably close together when this was occurring, and the speed and agility of its movements without touching any of us was exhilarating.

A memorable moment, while I was swimming, was when it approached me from directly behind without me being aware it was there and appeared directly beneath me at speed and without a lot of separation. I lifted my head and looked forward. It surfaced right in front of me at that moment and rose out of the water at speed in a beautiful porpoising arc. To see this manoeuvre while in the water directly behind and close to the dolphin was thrilling. The white water of its wake was streaming over its body. It then circled back and joined us all again.

But the remarkable and unique aspect of this dolphin so actively and intimately engaging with us was that at various times it swam right up to each of us and just stopped, looking directly at us with its nose and head partially out of the water. Its blowhole was out of the water and clearly visible. The back of its body was submerged. Its tail flukes were under the water. Its dorsal fin was partly out of the water, and its pectoral fins were motionless by its side underwater. We could look into its eyes. I did not hesitate in embracing the irresistible self-deception of seeing a smile in the fixed curved line of its closed mouth. The dolphin was not swimming or moving much at all. It just floated there, as if checking us out one by one, face to face at a distance of a foot or so. This did not occur fleetingly. It was relaxed and deliberate. Most of us were appraised by the dolphin more than once in this manner. These unusual up close and personal encounters lasted longer than I expected, then the dolphin would turn and swim or dive away.

I was moved by this unique experience even though I have swum with dolphins before – see the couple of paras under the sub-heading ‘The Awesomeness of an Ocean Swim with Wild Dolphins’ in an earlier post at: https://southernoceanblog.com/2020/03/21/a-few-things-that-havent-changed-recently/

That this wild and highly intelligent creature would, entirely of its own volition, choose to interact with a handful of us as it did, was a great surprise and a great privilege.

I have no photos of the dolphin to share. On reflection, I am glad I simply enjoyed the experience we had, rather than the different and decidedly inferior experience of taking photos of the dolphin up close. The words above merely record that together with my swimming friends, today was the day we met a wild dolphin in its ocean in an unhurried way, on its terms. But there was something wonderful about it which elevated the experience far above my pedestrian description. Rarely have words so failed me in sharing an experience.

This is not the dolphin we swam with this morning. I took this photo earlier this year from a boat some kms out to sea from where we swam this morning. See my earlier post about this at:
https://southernoceanblog.com/2020/05/06/wild-dolphins-in-the-southern-ocean/ But the dolphin we met today was similar in many ways to this dolphin. My impression was that the dolphin we saw this morning was a little bigger (perhaps a little older). But the colouring was certainly similar. Regrettably, instead of the clear azure seas shown in the photo, our encounter was in duller green and less clear water. But we were much, much closer to the dolphin this morning.

Easterly Seas at Apollo Bay

The main beach at Apollo Bay faces east and is completely exposed to the wind waves and rough seas brought by easterly and south-easterly winds. The waves erode the beach and dunes up to and sometimes above the high water mark and the wind moves huge amounts of sand. Once the wind gets above around 25 knots the bay becomes a potentially dangerous place for swimmers, entirely unattractive to surfers and a magnet for kite surfers who revel in the 25-30 knot winds.

In strong easterly conditions there is a lot of water moving around creating rips and side sweeps and general movement of water in often unpredictable directions. An ocean swimmer could stay afloat and swim in these conditions but would most likely encounter currents quite different to those normally experienced in the bay which could make it very difficult or impossible to return to shore before becoming exhausted or hypothermic.

So far this week at Apollo Bay the wind has been blowing non-stop day and night from the east at 25-30 knots, gusting higher at times. Monday had some sunny breaks, but on Tuesday we only saw cloud and cold winds. The forecast is for the winds to moderate and stay from the east or south-east until at least the end of the week.

Any water person in the area shown the photos below without being told anything about when they were taken could immediately identify the conditions as easterly. They are very distinctive compared to the conditions when the wind is from anywhere between the NW around through W to S.

Persistent easterly winds in the area can vary in strength from gale force (see my previous post on this blog at: https://southernoceanblog.com/2020/08/10/gale-force-easterlies-at-apollo-bay/) to lighter winds with sea fog and mist (see an earlier post on this blog at https://southernoceanblog.com/2017/11/20/rain-from-the-east-three-days-at-least/). The winds of recent days were less than gale force but consistently in the 25-30 knot range – strong winds.

I live in Apollo Bay and start most days with an ocean swim. I don’t swim in the open bay in strong easterly conditions, but fortunately the local harbour provides protected waters which are an ideal plan B. These photos capture something of the easterly sea conditions, as well as the contrasting harbour waters in which I have continued my daily swims during the otherwise unswimmable easterly conditions so far this week.

First day of easterlies

If I stand in the middle of the road in front of my house, this is how the sea looks during an easterly. No quick walk or drive needed to check out the conditions. In fact even the walk out on to the road is not necessary, because I would have woken up to the eucalypts along the creek beside my house being whipped around by the easterly wind. Also, the sound of the surf would have been carried by the wind to my house identifying that there was an easterly. By the third day of these easterlies sand had blown up this street from the beach and the dunes and was lining the sides of the road. In some places sufficient sand had blown across the Great Ocean Road to warrant placement of warning signs for drivers.
This was taken from the beach in front of the Apollo Bay SLSC early on Monday morning while the sun was still reasonably low, creating the golden glow of the eastern sky. Sometimes in a lighter SE wind, the corner of the bay can have some protection and be swimmable. But this view sealed my decision to swim in the harbour.
As I drove to the harbour, the sun was higher in the sky, the clouds were darker and there was some rain on the way. But for a very short period there was a break in the clouds and the sun shone brilliantly on the water for a few fleeting moments. I parked, grabbed the iPhone and ran to the steps to the dunes to get this photo. The breaking water glowed aqua and sparkled snow white, in contrast to the khaki and duller white water in the cloud shadows. Before I had returned the few steps to my car, the sun had disappeared from view. That’s the AB harbour wall in the distance.
This wall of the harbour is roughly N-S. The white water crashing over it came from waves smashing into the neatly placed huge rocks forming a reasonably uniform sloping surface on the ocean side of the wall. The water in the harbour in the lee of the wall is glassy and clear. There are a few mild currents in the harbour but nothing compared to the action immediately outside it. When I swam on Monday morning some of this white water landed on my back like gentle rain.
The harbour mouth and Wild Dog Creek valley in the coastal hills 2-3kms to the north. My swims usually include going to the right of small boat nearest the wall and then parallel to the wall to the mouth and back the same way. Note that all the moored boats are pointing due east into wind. No need for windsocks here. With rough seas beyond, I generally turn around a bit before the mouth as there are some interesting currents there in big swell and rough conditions. An often busy boat ramp is to the left of frame. Swimming nearer the wall gives safe clearance from boats. There are some beautiful sea grass plains on the sea bed in this corner of the harbour supporting a good variety of small fish. Stingrays are a reasonably common sight, and from time to time seals pay a visit. Neither pose a hazard to swimmers here.
This is Marengo as seen across Mounts Bay from the Great Ocean Road in Apollo Bay. Mounts Bay is the next bay south of Apollo Bay. It only gets rough here in this manner in a strong easterly. More typically, large south west swells swing around Hayley Point to march with precision and beauty across this bay into an offshore westerly wind, with perfect manes of white spray blowing over the back of them as they break approaching the shore.
These sand dunes are between the Barham River and Mounts Bay. The reef is Little Henty Reef, foreshortened by the telephoto lens to look closer than its 1600m or so from where I was standing.
Looking south over the Barham River and the dunes between it and Mounts Bay.

Day two of the easterlies

The corner shown here, where the sand dunes meet the harbour wall, is referred to by local swimmers as ‘the wall’. It is their most common starting point for the regular morning swims in the bay. This beach is also known locally as ‘mothers’ beach’ because it s usually sheltered and safe.
This shot was taken from the wall looking north, showing the steps to the beach (under the low red-roofed dwelling) at Tuxion, the beach at the bottom of my street. From where this photo was taken to the steps is 800 metres. Swimming from the wall to Tuxion or to one of the landmarks a bit short of Tuxion, are popular courses for local swimmers – but not on this day.
The harbour mouth in easterly conditions.
This photo of the harbour wall was taken from Tuxion. The orange buoy is not the cap of a local ocean swimmer bobbing about, but is one of two markers for anchoring points used by the local dredge which keeps the harbour mouth clear of sand.
This is the N-S harbour wall viewed from some distance north. On the day this was taken I had my swim in the lee of this wall inside the harbour.
The harbour mouth in easterly conditions.

Harbour swim on day three of the easterlies

The easterly by day three had eased a little and was closer to 20 than 30 knots. The open seas were still white and rough. The inviting glassy clear water inside the harbour was the spot to swim today. Eight of us swam in the harbour this morning instead of the usual locations of Apollo Bay (and sometimes Marengo). Of course, warming up over coffee and a chat followed.

Sue and Boo after their swim. The water was cold, and they both wore wetsuits (as do all the local swimmers during the colder months). Michelle and Susie are stroking towards shore mid-frame.
Susie and Michelle in the shallows after their 1000m or so swim in the calm waters of the harbour. The mist sitting on the coastal hills was there all day. Such mist is one of the features of easterly winds here – formed by all that moist air from over the sea lifting over the hills where it cools and condenses to form mist and low layers of stratus cloud.
Possum on the left and Duke (one of her offspring) on the right. These curly haired retrievers belong to Heather, one of the long-time local ocean swimmers. They love the beach and the water. These two are local identities known to many. They know their way around town and the harbour. They had a splash in the shallows then waited, watching patiently from the beach, for Heather to finish her swim in the harbour.