Day 20 2/8/2019 Friday 1770, breezy clear 25

Dragon boat teams are practicing out on the water. The view through the palms is exotic with an island feeling. Cramped, untidy, smoky at night, the management team hammer the message that this is a conservation park yet it is more expensive than a National Park and nowhere near as clean, tidy or organized.

With Elvis’ car out of the way we drive into Agnes Waters for a look around. There are two small groups of shops and a service station. We buy a kilo of prawns from a refrigerated van and pick up a few videos as the TV reception at the park is non-existent. The caravan park in Agnes Waters looks neat and tidy and has access to the beach. The Workman’s Beach freedom camp has been tidied up a lot and camp sites are well marked. They’ve increased the price to $27 which is a lot to pay to share one drop toilet. We visit Chinaman’s Beach and drive around the housing estates, though most appear to be holiday rentals.

 Returning to our dust bowl we eat our prawns in the sun and settle in for a quiet arvo beside the thirsty garden that we’re not allowed to water when the manager drops in to tell us that Elvis and Mona want us to move our car (they could have asked us). We now have two choices: jemmy the car into a tight space that blocks what little view we have and our access to our site or park it out in the public car park. The car park is not an option as Woody’s beer fridge is in the car. The young dad next door watches on and mumbles something about Elvis’ poor taste in music. The manager and her husband return to the office to consider the situation. They return and offer us the choice of a similar site or a waterfront one. Naturally we choose the waterfront option and fly into action just in case someone has a change of heart, not that I’m much help to Woody with bruised ribs. Elvis, obviously feeling deflated, starts hurling verbal abuse at Woody expecting to get a rise out of him but of course that was not going to happen. What a pair of ferals these two are. Naturally we don’t say goodbye. Perhaps good riddance would be more apt.

 Our new neighbours are a friendly lot and help guide us into the new narrow site. I should mention that it is a bit difficult as a power pole has been erected in the middle of the roadway.

After what is quite possibly the most difficult pack up and set up ever, we finally have the van in place albeit with a port list even after the ramps are under the wheels. Not what you’d call a level site, but we reckon we can live with it. We sit down with a glass of wine to enjoy our uninterrupted view when Tony our neighbour says “See that line of leaves? That’s last night’s tide.” The line of leaves is about a foot from our van’s back legs. “And tonight’s tide will be 10mm higher!” He cheerfully says. “Shit!” We say.

After dinner, when the midges have driven us indoors we nervously watch a movie while waiting for the 9:37 high tide to come in, and it does, loudly and gurgling and close but we’re ok. Next time I wax lyrical about listening to the waves at night, please, please remind me how close we came to floating off into the Pacific Ocean.

Now it’s off to bed with a 2 degree list and lapping water, reminiscent of our sailing days.

 Summary 0kms, power, water, showers, toilets, Accom $43.00 a tilting floor and the sea a little too close for comfort.