Turtle Spotting
After such an epic show last night, when we saw Daryl eating his breakfast all alone, I thought it only right to go and give him a little feedback and positive reinforcement; it’s the teacher in me. So, I sauntered up next to him at the cafe bar and thanked him profusely for the fabulous show he’d treated us with. I realise I don’t quite have the coolness Jude exudes when in the presence of greatness and I got a tad starstruck, finishing our chat with a ridiculous “you’ve still got it!” and a thumbs up. The only way it could possibly have been worse was if I’d winked. Cringeworthy.
While we’d been sweetly sleeping, Lance had sailed his way into the beautiful port of Noumea; the velvety, green mountains rising up from the clear blue sea - so majestic.
Clearly a little more bustling than sleepy Lifou, the shoreline was very industrial in some spots. Today Jude & I were taking a boat ride to the world heritage listed Signal Island in the hope of snorkelling with some turtles.
We were given leis on arrival and were instructed to pop over to le supermarché for some snacks and drinks. I bought a delicious crusty, fresh baguette and some French cheese and we had a mandatory perusal of all the French snack foods. Who doesn’t love a foreign supermarket?
A half hour boat ride took our little group of 9 to the island, with its white sand littered with coral and incredibly blue water. It was so beautiful! We donned our masks and snorkels and within minutes were right above a gigantic turtle! I nearly swallowed my snorkel, I was so excited and was squealing so loudly, Jude had to have a gentle word about piping down lest I scare every turtle on the island into hiding. There was a reef just offshore with an abundance of coral and tons of pretty tropical fish darting in and out of the underwater landscape. I was humming “I like to be, under the sea…” when I spotted a fish that looked decidedly like a shark. I sized it up. Grey…check. Fin in the middle of its back…check. Beady eyes…check. Shark shape…check. I thought it was on a rock but it turned out it was lying atop a big turtle. I was freaking out a little, wondering if I had the courage to bop it in the nose a la Mick Fanning, when Jude called out “it’s only a remora, it’s OK.” Apparently these pilot fish, attach themselves to turtles (amongst other things), removing parasites and generally operating as a personal cleaning service for their host. Must be nice. Jude, who’s done her dive certificate and knows these things, seemed adamant it wasn’t a shark but without my glasses on, this thing looked so much like a shark, I wasn’t taking any chances. It left its turtle and was swimming straight for me so I turned and bolted back to the beach in gold medal world record time.
Back on the beach, I had the fortune of another private French lesson with Avril, one of our tour guides, from the South of France, in Noumea on a working holiday. Très bon!
After a couple of hours and more turtles than you could poke a stick at, we left our little paradise and climbed aboard our boat for our return journey. Rather than regular seats, this boat had us sitting on little padded pommel horses, with Malvern Star sissy bars to hold onto. It felt like we were saddling up. By now the swell had increased substantially and we were riding the waves like bucking broncos; knuckles white and butt cheeks clenched. Our fierce, pocket rocket boat driver, in her ‘No woman no sail” t-shirt, was getting a full body workout turning the wheel to and fro, launching us across the waves, getting air and thumping us back down with a splash. I was sitting directly behind her and swear I could faintly hear the odd “yahoo” quietly exiting her lips. ‘Riders of the Storm’ was playing in my head and the woman behind me screamed for all of us. At one stage she declared: “ok that’s it. I’m done.”
Call a chopper?
Back safely on dry land, we wandered around the capital, browsing in the shops and having a general look around. It’s a great place, not surprisingly very laid back, the lovely broad-smiling locals making us feel welcome. There was a slightly awkward moment when I tried to buy some anti-chaffing cream from the chemist sales assistant who had zero English. Not the easiest thing to mime, after a few minutes of trying, a lightbulb dawned and she rubbed her hands together, accompanied by a “ch-ch-ch” sound and pulled a face in pain. Yep, that’s what I’m looking for.
Back onboard it was time for a quick swim and spa before dressing for our back-to-school theme night and a concert from Chocolate Starfish, who were actually a little better than we were expecting. They sang lots of Meatloaf and Queen covers.
Our friendly American cruise director - Rock the Boat’s answer to Julie from the Love Boat - came over the PA tonight, sounding much more sombre than his usual, chipper self. He had some bad news. Jimmy Barnes was still in Sydney, in hospital with viral pneumonia and wouldn’t be joining us on the ship after all. Bummer. Mahalia Barnes, Jimmy’s musical daughter, came on the mic to tell us she’d arrived in Noumea to sing in Jimmy’s stead, and with a little help from all the musical talent already rocking this boat, she’d sing up a storm for us and try to make her dad proud on our last night. Poor Jimmy. Hope he’s OK.
In other news, Jon Stevens has joined our cruise and was spotted by my keen-eyed friend at dinner time, almost causing her to go into cardiac arrest. It’s fair to say, Jude is a little excited about being in such close proximity to her favourite singer and when he plays tomorrow night, I may well need to have medics on standby.
