Sculpture by the Sea 2011 and a snorkel at Gordons Bay for good measure

It could be somewhere in Europe but it's not: Gordons Bay

Just because I'm sick as a dog doesn't mean I can't stuff myself with paracetamol and join my mates Ms Onyabike and Mrs Snorkel for a frolic by the sea.

It was Mrs Snorkel's idea to go to Gordons Bay, which is around the corner from Clovelly beach in Sydney's eastern suburbs. On a good day at Gordons Bay punters can catch glimpses of wobbegongs and blue gropers. On Monday the water was so clear you could see all the way to the ocean floor - even as far out as the open sea. 

It was chilly but the experience of snorkelling is, as Ms Onyabike noted, theraputic. This is because, when wearing the snorkel and goggles, you become conscious of the sound of your breathing. It's all you hear - the deep regular 'in' and 'out' of your own breath as your eyes scan the scene below for - anything! 

In my former posts, I've written about my talent for scaring away marine life. My theory is that a sonar warning* is relayed to the creatures of the deep that alerts them to my presence in the immediate vicinity. This sends them scurrying under the nearest big rocks to avoid my curious gaze.

And so it was on Monday. Mrs Snorkel bobbed to the surface and removed her mouthpiece to proclaim: "I've never seen it so quiet down there. I haven't seen anything yet."

IT'S BECAUSE OF MOI. I could never get a job with Trawler Men.

I did manage to spot a few obliging anemone (maybe it's because they're stuck to the rocks and can't go anywhere), one ray (pretending to be sand), a herd of tiny zebra fish and another fish that looked like he was wearing khaki (obviously camouflage).  

The only two real gripes I have with Gordons Bay is that no one tells you about the litter washed up on the beach. And that some arsehole has put out lobster pots when I'm sure this little part of the world is a marine wildlife reserve. But hey, that's Australia. You can never escape that sense of entitlement that has become so much a part of the Aussie makeup (that's a whole other post).

Everything including the bathroom sink

On a lighter note... afterwards we basked for a moment in the sun before heading around to Tamarama Beach to view the  Sculpture by the Sea 2011 exhibition, which features sculptures all the way along the coastal walk to Bondi Beach. 

Inside the tyre turtle was a cubby house filled with bric-a-brac

I've popped in some of the more creative sculptures in this incredible annual event that now has offshoots around the globe in countries such as Denmark (due in part, I think, to Australian-born Princess Mary).

Easter Island meets Tamarama Beach

Later we cooled off at Tamarama, a narrow beach renowned for its semi-permanent rip.  

Mrs Snorkel and Ms Onyabike with the vacationing Buddha, who is wearing shorts and thongs

*I suspect there is a sea creature on watch who has in its possession an identikit photo of me kitted out in full snorkelling gear. Not fair.  

North Bondi squad, snorkelling at Gordons Bay and Sculpture by the Sea

Apologies for the long absence but my Blogger dashboard did this weird thing and went blank so I haven't been able to post anything for days. Now I'm back with the old dashboard. Fingers crossed. 

Sydney has switched on summer so I've been swimming in the ocean. Saturday was squad at North Bondi and almost everyone except me was seal-like (shark bait?) in a steamer. 

With a water temp of 18-19 degrees I don't think this is necessary, especially as we were on the move the whole session (1.5 hours), galavanting in and out of the surf like lemmings. 

The squad's coach, Mr Mean, is unrelenting. He shouts a lot. He gets cranky if we do wimpy stuff, like swimming back out and under a dumper when we're supposed to be swimming into the shore. To my mind this is a good tactic. I don't want to get churned around and spat out on the sand looking like an eejit. Mr Mean sees it this way: "Go with the wave ya pussycats. What's wrong with doing a few somersaults on the way in. At least you're not losing ground." I guess there's always two points of view. But I prefer to get out of it alive.  

Afterwards, I was shattered. Getting out past the break was a major effort and there was a massive north-running current. 

On Sunday I woke up with the beginnnings of a head cold and slept for two hours in the afternoon. 

Yesterday the offer of a day at the Sculpture by the Sea 2011 exhibition was too good to refuse. But I'll save that - and the snorkel at Gordons Bay - for my next post.