Port Phillip Bay – ALMOST ITALIAN

Of Ships and Sunsets

For those who have gone the distance and have continued to camp alongside the great lagoon- like bay of Port Phillip until mid Autumn, the rewards are great. The summer crowds, the sun seekers, bathers and holiday makers have long left: a more mellow mood remains. Some old patterns and rituals continue as the season winds to a close. From 5 o’clock, the beach calls and it’s time for a Shirley. Folding chairs, chilled wine, cameras real and cloned are carted down to the shoreline just in time for the sunset show. The children run or cartwheel across the sand, dressed for an endless summer, too busy to ever get cold, while their elders swaddle in layers against the descending chill.

Tangerine dream, Port Phillip Bay looking towards Blairgowrie.

The sunsets of mid Autumn are incandescent and more evocative than their summer counterparts. No more lipstick sunsets, loud, adolescent and brash. The season brings out subtle colours, as softer tangerine mellows to russet, bronze and antique gold, like the waning of time and life. My mind wanders out to sea as ships come and go, with cargoes of cars and clutter. Melbourne’s shipping lane is busy in the evening. Ghost ships pass, container-less, skeletons of their former selves, story book ships, pirate fortune hunters in search of another raid.

Or human cargo ships pass by, cruise ships full of expectation, lit up like floating apartment blocks, as they ostentatiously glide into the setting sun and head towards their next fleeting appointment with another land.

As a Champagne stopper popped, landing a good distance away in the sand, a song came to mind, piercing my mental meanderings on ships and sunsets. An earworm of the evening, I firmly planted it in the minds and souls of my fellow drinkers. And now dear reader, I’m planting it in yours. Lyrics below seem more pertinent than ever.

Ship of Fools

We’re setting sail to the place on the map
from which no one has ever returned
Drawn by the promise of the joker and the fool
by the light of the crosses that burned.
Drawn by the promise of the women and the lace
and the gold and the cotton and pearls
It’s the place where they keep all the darkness you need.
You sail away from the light of the world on this trip, baby.
You will pay tomorrow
You’re gonna pay tomorrow
You will pay tomorrow
Save me. Save me from tomorrow
I don’t want to sail with this ship of fools. No, no
Oh, save me. Save me from tomorrow
I don’t want to sail with this ship of fools
I want to run and hide ……..right now

Avarice and greed are gonna drive you over the endless sea
They will leave you drifting in the shallows
or drowning in the oceans of history
Traveling the world, you’re in search of no good
but I’m sure you’ll build your Sodom like you knew you would
Using all the good people for your galley slaves
as you’re little boat struggles through the warning waves, but you don’t pay

You will pay tomorrow
You’re gonna pay tomorrow
You’re gonna pay tomorrow

Save me. Save me from tomorrow
I don’t want to sail with this ship of fools
Save me. Save me from tomorrow
I don’t want to sail with this ship of fools
Where’s it comin’ from?
Where’s it goin’ to now?
It’s just a It’s just a ship of fools

Songwriters: Karl Edmond De Vere Wallinger

Black Angels of the Morning

Sunrise over the bay does not trumpet the day in loudly. The morning glows blue on blue as the world of sea and sky blends into the distance. Last night’s lights still wink from a distant shore. No sea engine mars the tranquility of this ancient lagoon. But listen carefully and you can hear the soft contented cooing of black swans as they feed on sea grass in the shallows, their prehistoric heads bending and diving for breakfast.

For rise/set photographic prompt, WordPress.

Environmental Recovery. Port Phillip Bay.

It may be a sign of maturity, wisdom and age, or perhaps I’m just a slow learner, but lately I’ve been observing some wonderful changes along the foreshore down by the bay. Where once the sea grasses in the shallow water and the native grasses along the coast were gouged by tractors to create white sandy banks for sunbathers and swimmers, now the native flora is slowly returning. It’s a gradual but discernible march as the native grasses thicken, slowly forming seed beds for the indigenous Coastal Banksia to germinate and creep closer to the tide line. Thick brackets of Casuarina compete with purple Melaleuca along shady pathways to the sand. An early morning walk in and out of the fringing bush is a rewarding pastime.

Purple Melaleuca, Capel Sound foreshore area, Port Phillip Bay, Victoria.

I’ve spent most of my life ignoring the beauty of the coastal Banksia. An irregular shaped woody tree better known for its yellow or lime candle flowers than beauty, shade or shape, I am so thrilled to find new saplings emerging along the small human track forged between the soft headed coastal grass.

In the past, I’ve been more fascinated with the busy shipping lane in Port Phillip Bay or the brilliant sunsets of late Autumn. This year is less technicoloured, as a pastel view of this beautiful bay plays with my soul. I like this change. It’s a sign of hope for the delicate ecology of the Bay’s coastal precinct. And it’s a sign of hope for the future generally.

The Life Cycle of a Coastal Banksia Flower in Images.

For https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/favorite-place/

Some previous posts on of Port Phillip Bay:

50 Shades of Bay

On a Turneresque Day by the Sea

The Norwegian Star

Crossing Port Phillip Bay

Gold Class Seats and the Norwegian Star

The sandy perimeter of Port Phillip Bay is transformed into a natural amphitheatre on sunny evenings as thousands of residents and holiday makers drag their chairs onto the beach to watch the unfolding drama. The lighting is usually spectacular and moody, heat haze softening the detail of looming vessels, late afternoon sun turning the ripple of a ship’s wash into a flash of diamonds, while lone paddle board rowers or frisbee throwers appear as blackened puppets in a Wayang show. The vast expanse of water and sky are a Cyclopean back drop. Let the show begin.

Paddle Board rower or Wayang Puppet? The Norwegian Star in teh background. — Paddle Board rower or Wayang Puppet? The Norwegian Star in the background.

Enter the crippled Norwegian Star, a cruise boat that had left Melbourne Port the preceding Thursday, now being pulled and guided along by two tug boats. The Norwegian Star became stranded at sea due to a malfunctioning propeller system. As the ship was still only 30 kilometers from Wilson’s Promontory, Melbourne’s famous heroes, the tug boats, came to the rescue. The movement across Port Phillip Bay took more than 10 hours as the audience raised a glass, stubby or binoculars from the comfort of their gold class seats. A tragedy in slow motion.

The Norwegian Star

Tug boats

Relax with Max at the Bay Show

Heroes, the tug boats of Melbourne

Wayang Puppet?

The crippled ship assumes the shape of a glowing white ingot as it turns the corner at Mt Martha on its slow journey back to port. The cruise ship, with its 3000 passengers, has been saved by the powerful little tugs.

The Norwegian Star on its journey back to Melbourne

Another creature enters stage left, a dark, elongated and slightly menacing container ship, the Hyundai. The sky blackens: the sea turns turquoise.

Another ship enters the stage from the left. — Another container ship enters the stage from the left.

This sleek, fast-moving character is transformed into a comic figure as it moves off into the distance; the lighting changes once again, as the Hyundai becomes a colourful Humpty Dumpty or a cubist cupcake on the horizon, precariously balancing its load.

Minstrels by the Bay

I admire the minstrels in our lives. Sometimes we sing along: mostly we just listen or talk and drink. These minstrels don’t mind- they keep playing their repertoire as the sun goes down.

Rachael’s collection includes numbers by Concrete Blonde, The Cranberries, or Patsy Cline. She hands over the guitar to her father, Mr T, and the music changes. He prefers to play the blues, the classics of Otis Redding and Otis Rush or a few soulful songs by Sam Cooke or Aaron Neville followed by a few country tunes by Delbert McClinton or Merle Haggard.

I also admire their discipline- they practice and keep in form. Shame we can’t drag a piano down to the beach.

Weekly photo challenge from the Daily Press this week is admiration.

A Tale of Two Kitchens, IMK April 2016

This is a tale of three kitchens plus two BBQs in a camping ground by the sea, but as I only have photos of two kitchens, and the title has a more Dickensian ring to it, two kitchens it will be.

A Rpyal corner in Maxine's camp kitchen — A royal corner in Maxine’s camp kitchen. I’m told that the queen falls over when they go to bed, leaning as she does, on their canvas wall.

Each year we set up a huge family camp over four sites which directly face Port Phillip Bay in Victoria. Our camping season begins on Australia Day in January and ends some time in late April. Most of the workers in our group travel to the beach camp each weekend but their presence has been continual and strong this year, with Easter and the school holidays falling so early. The kitchens and BBQs pump out food all day, any time and on demand, but often the evening meals are late when we become distracted by the brilliant sunsets and each other’s company. OK, and also the sunset drinks.

Each season, our kitchens take on rather odd themes, based on the junk we find around the local charity shops or discarded items sitting by the side of the road.

Found sitting next to the rubbish station. A perfectly funtional Sunbeam Pizza Bake and Grill in working order. — Found sitting next to the rubbish station. A perfectly functional Sunbeam Pizza Bake and Grill in working order.

My beach kitchen has always tended towards a mid-century Chinese look, but this year we have added a few touches of ‘ Greek fishing village’, along with some vintage Australiana, sourced from the fabulous Rotary Warehouse where an outlay of $2 goes a long way.

My Greek Fishing village kitchen seems to get a lot of attention from passers by.

My son Jack found a Sunbeam Pizza Bake and Grill oven sitting next to the rubbish bin, and I know what can be baked in these ‘Toy Ovens’, thanks to Maree at Around the Mulberry Tree. When our old friend Denis came to dinner recently, we used the oven to bake potatoes and eggplant parmigiana and some Spanish styled garlic prawns in terracotta pots. I am yet to see how it handles a real home-made pizza.

Then various members of my family began to score freebies every week. We became the Steptoes by the Bay. Jack found and restored a discarded BBQ, followed by a clean three-man canvas tent in very good order. I found a cast iron table and matching chairs sitting on a nature strip. It’s amazing what can be shoved into the back of my tiny hatchback car. Then my daughter Rachael found a brand new stainless steel kettle. Andrew found a large square of rubber matting in good nick- the list goes on and on. People who camp by the beach for a weekend or a week often throw away new things at the end of their stay. Consumerism gone mad or no storage at home?

Antique Jaffle irons with Bits and pieces from China — Antique Australian Jaffle irons with bits and pieces from China

Maxine, my daughter in law, set up her kitchen this year in my old canvas camper trailer. Maxine should really be a stylist: she can turn the most humble of finds into marvellous decor.

In Maxine's Kitchen — In Maxine’s camping kitchen

Her area took on a nautical theme including a coffee corner complete with two old captain’s chairs, along with found odds and ends, while my son Andrew set up an array of LED strip lighting which he bought from Alibaba on-line, his favourite shop, along with an LED chandelier called Sputnik. Andrew has become the Mr MacGyver by the sea- he fiddles with our 12 volt lighting, often powered by old computer parts, and devises gadgets to make our camping life easier.

Coffee corner in Maxine's camp/glamp. — Coffee corner in Maxine’s camp/glamp.

Must have camping item- an LED Sputnik — Must have camping kitchen item- an LED Sputnik chandelier.

Food is usually simple. Jaffles filled with cheese, tomato, egg, onion, avocado or anything else are popular. Sometimes we fill them with left over bolognese sauce and call them pies. A Jaffle is an old-fashioned toastie, the name stemming from the brand name stamped on these old circular irons. Jaffles taste far better than toasties, as they acquire a golden hue on the outside as they slowly cook over a naked flame, along with a crispy seal and slightly charred edge, providing the bonus of tasty free radicals.

Another choice breakfast offering is Shakshuka, a one pan delight. The tomatoes and eggs come weekly from my home in St Andrews.

As shakshouka style breakfast — As shakshuka style breakfast

Thanks Maureen, of Orgasmic Chef, for hosting the In My Kitchen platform. I can’t seem to ever let this series go.

Laugh Your Merry Laughter

The Kookaburra is a much-loved Australian bird, their visits always welcomed by all, their laughter copied by children from an early age. Their arrival at our beach camp and school by the sea invariably brings happiness and joy, as older folk fumble about for their cameras.

As the weather cools, especially if rain is predicted, their visits become more frequent. On wet days, they man each fence post surrounding our vegetable garden back at home, like sentries on duty, waiting for worms to emerge from the mud. Their call is often a seasonal indicator.

The name comes from Wiradjuri language, guuguubarra, onomatopoeic of its call. One can imagine the alarm and perhaps fear experienced by the early imperialists of Australia on hearing for the first time, the cacophonous laughter of the kookaburra, a bird call so exotic and alien to their English consciousness.

They are my favourite bird, not so much for their call but for their cute haircut, hints of blue feathering, and hunting knowledge, seen in their alert eyes.

Searching for worms, a kookaburra comes a little closer.

The End of the Season

As the holiday season draws to a close, the shoreline of Port Phillip Bay beckons, to ponder and daydream, or loiter without intent, the landscape shifting with the hour and season.

waiting for Icarus — Waiting for Icarus, Sorrento

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/landscape/

On a Turneresque Day by the Sea

There are some days down by the Bay when the world seems lost in watercolour. The days don’t have clear edges, they don’t seem to begin nor do they have distinct intervals. It is only at sunset that a sense of time can be perceived as the late summer sun breaks through the hovering heat haze. On these days, the humidity creates mesmerising atmospheric effects, with obscured horizons and Turneresque painterly seas.

Boats of the Bay — Boats of Port Phillip Bay

On a day like this, ships, or sometimes a mirage of a ship, appear on the lost horizon, giving rise to thoughts about Fata Morgana.² Shapes emerge from nowhere, lost in a soupy mist, magically and mysteriously.

The Spirit of Tasmania turns in the narrow shipping channel of Port Phillip Bay

We cart our chairs and a bottle of wine down to the beach and set up in front of an old boatshed, spending a few hours meditating on the passing parade of ships. Some are famous cruise ships, others are time-tabled ferries to Tasmania, while others seem malevolent. Once we saw a black piratical ship on the bay which we labelled the ‘Ship of the Dead’. We are waiting for it’s return, perhaps to pick us up on the way through.

A half empty cargo ship moves steadily across the channel towards the 'heads'. Black swans cruise by in the foreground. — A half empty cargo ship moves steadily across the channel towards the ‘heads’. Black swans cruise by in the foreground.

I once wrote a children’s story about some little kayaks being stuck in the shipping lane in the black of night. The terrified kayaks escaped by riding the ship’s wake back to shore. The story had lots of sound effects, the blasting horn from the ship’s warning system- three honks and you’re out- and the sshhwash sshhwash of the ship’s wake. I could rely on this story to put little ones to sleep when camping by the sea. It’s a scary story with a happy ending as the kayaks surf their way back into their unlocked boatshed. Now that the children are older, they wait for that blasting horn and sense the danger for some lone yacht or fishing boat caught in the shipping lane.

The Spirit arrives — The Spirit heading towards Melbourne

My brother, an EPA man who sometimes works on the bay, informed me of the pilot system used to aid boats in and out of the shallow waters of Port Phillip Bay. The pilot boards each ship, either at the port of Melbourne or at sea near Queenscliff. Their entry and exit from the ship makes for terrifying reading,

“the pilot boards directly from the launch with the ship steaming at about 7 knots. The high degree of seamanship and skill shown by the launch coxswains during this procedure is relied on by the pilot and the deckhand, who assists the pilot to board from the exposed foredeck of the launch. In heavy weather this can be a hazardous operation but with experience the pilot knows when to leave the pitching deck of the launch and to grab and scramble up the rope ladder to the security of the ship’s deck.”¹

The sun breaks through the haze and the day begins.

¹ http://www.ppsp.com.au/history/history.aspx

² A Fata Morgana is an unusual and complex form of superior mirage that is seen in a narrow band right above the horizon. It is the Italian name for the Arthurian sorceress Morgan Le Fey, from a belief that these mirages, often seen in the Strait of Messina, were fairy castles in the air or false land created by her witchcraft to lure sailors to their deaths. Although the term Fata Morgana is sometimes applied to other, more common kinds of mirages, the true Fata Morgana is not the same as an ordinary superior mirage, nor is it the same as an inferior image.

Fata Morgana mirages significantly distort the object or objects on which they are based, often such that the object is completely unrecognisable. A Fata Morgana can be seen on land or at sea, in polar regions or in deserts. This kind of mirage can involve almost any kind of distant object, including boats, islands and the coastline.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fata_Morgana_(mirage)

Dangling a Carrot. Farm gate produce of the Mornington Peninsula.

The suburbs stretch along the coastal fringe of Melbourne’s Port Phillip bay as far as the eye can see. Once an area dominated by holiday houses and temporary residents, the built up areas between Mornington and Portsea now attract more permanent dwellers, young families and retirees. The old weatherboard and fibro shacks, suitable only for summer, are slowly disappearing from the area.

For those who venture beyond this narrow suburban strip, around one kilometre or less deep at Rosebud and Rye, rich fertile countryside awaits, with vast market gardens, horse studs, vineyards and apple orchards scattered through the peninsula’s hinterland. This area has always been devoted to traditional farming and is one of the oldest market garden areas of Melbourne. When camping down that way, I prefer to bypass the well known duopoly of supermarkets ensconced in an ugly, crowded mall, and head straight to the farm gate outlets of two farms located along or near Boneo road. King’s vegetable farm is located in Browns road, Boneo and Hawkes vegetable farm, which specialises in waxy potatoes such as Nicola and Kipfler potatoes, can be found a little further along on the road towards Cape Schanck.
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At King’s Farm, expect to see daily picked heirloom carrots and tomatoes, rocket and spinach, frilly leafed soft lettuce and kale, beetroot and brocoli, as well as a range of fresh herbs of every kind and free range eggs.

wooden crates at Hawkes farm — Wooden crates at Hawkes farm

More farms are yet to be sampled, making hunting and gathering an enjoyable pastime. I am looking forward to sampling cheeses, honey and olives as well as more wonderful wines of the region. These finds, along with freshly harvested Mount Martha mussels from Prosser Seafoods in Rye, make the area far more interesting than first meets the eye. A daily shop out in the rural hinterland, followed by a quick meal prepared in a simple camp kitchen, then eaten by the bay- oh what bliss.

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