Entries by Robert

I first set foot on Achill Island, County Mayo a couple of years ago. At the time I was only a little aware of its significance in the life of Ireland’s beloved pirate queen, Gráinne Ní Mháillem (Grace O’Malley).

In the last few months my awareness of this incredible woman and her place in sixteenth century Irish history has blossomed as I have worked with my wife to bring Gráinne to life in Jennifer’s 2020 Adelaide Fringe performance depicting her life in narrative, poetry and song.

We still have a few more shows to go but already we are wishing ourselves back on that rugged western coast of Ireland, the ‘Wild Atlantic Way’ and the home of Grace O’Malley.

These enigmatic and almost unnerving sponges around Edithburgh Jetty seem to me like some ancient sentinel lifeform left to observe the passage of evolution.

When I think of them in that way it no longer seems strange that these are animals, not plants, and that it is more than likely that this sentinel began its life as free swimming organism perhaps thousands of kilometres from here.

Sponges express a milestone in evolution marking the transition from single cell to multicellular organisms around 600 millions years ago; a feat that took biology around three billion years to achieve.

This creature may not be so ancient; or, maybe all is not as it appears. In an eerie way it reminds me of a movie I watched long ago. About how ‘in space no one can hear you scream’. Well the same goes for being underwater as well!

Time will tell if this alien seed germinates or if it really is just an ancient sea sponge.

Australian beaches in summer are fabulous places to keep cool, so fabulous in fact that in some places they have to be closed for the safety of visitors not accustomed to reading the waves and surf and currents.

For our tourist destination beaches I reluctantly agree this makes sense. Fortunately for us locals we have another fifty nine thousand kilometres of unmanaged coastline to play in.

Regardless of if you surf, swim or dive, it’s a kracka summer!

#beach #sand #lifesaver #lifegaurd #blue #bokeh #depthoffield #bondi #krackasurfcraft

This place is so close and yet so hidden. Our secret garden guarded by sea on every side. One lone bridge keeps the curious away. This is a place you really need to make an effort for.

Torrens Island is so close and yet so detached from awareness that most South Australians are not even curious. To most, it’s just a place where an old power station ekes out its last few years of productive life.

The more I discover about this secret savannah of salty marsh-land the more I want to.

There was a time long, long ago when I dived here armed with sturdy gloves and a catch-bag. What would ensue was a cat and mouse game of stealthy ambush; the hunter; the prey.

Since the day I first took a camera underwater my catch-bag has stayed dry and now seeing crayfish brings me a different delight.

I captured this image at my most favourite shore dive of all time; Chinaman’s Hat on the York Peninsula, South Australia. Plan to dive here if you ever visit.

Oh, I still play the cat and mouse game of hunter and prey, but now it’s about getting the best image I can.

There is a swim-through from amidships to the bow on the wreck of ‘The Australian’ that is packed with bright orange bullseyes.

It’s worth a dive here just to experience them parting then reforming behind you.

The dark space and severe fish crowding make taking a photo here a real challenge. They are so close and so shiny and the strobe light falls off so fast that you get a some quite strange lighting effects.

Better perhaps to just swim though and enjoy view.

This parched hillside in the Barossa Ranges caught my attention due to the interesting lines carved into the barren ground.

As I got closer the ground began to wriggle and quiver like some larval infestation. It struck me how close to the truth that idea really was.

The cause of those abstract striations revealed.

During yesterday’s commute home the view into the distance became muted in a wind driven dusty sky.

Strange brown clouds billowed up from the horizon and the smell of dirty rain filled the air.

I was not able to capture that initial apocalyptic feel as the rapidly changing clouds and sky shifted the mood but at least I did not go home empty handed.

The bright lights; they sneak around corners, steal our nights, fill the world with their indifferent scrutiny and threaten to expose our deepest secrets.

Yet looking up I am reminded of the sun, of its nurturing warmth and the life it brings to the world.

This this light I welcoming shining on me in the deep and dark places I dwell.

There is not a single place on this planet where you could walk in a straight line (if possible) and not find your self on a seashore somewhere with a seemingly limitless expanse of ocean beyond.

All paths really do lead to the sea.

I’m categorically not a morning person. At least that’s my excuse for missing almost every one out of the two precious golden hours gifted to us,

This particular morning I broke my habit and my sleep to hopefully capture something special. Too bad I could not get a clear view; or is it?

I had many amazing adventures in the Barrossa Ranges during my early years.

Hikes on my own, camping evenings with friends, day picnics with family and maybe even a little truancy communing with nature are all there in my recollections.

Nightfall in a wild place, at least wild to a child can be just as terrifying and scary as it is exciting and exhilarating.

I relished all those memories reliving this Barrossa eventide.

Many years ago I had the fortunate opportunity to tour Torrens Island Power Station and see first hand a gas powered turbine generator in action.

It was a defining moment for me in realising that ‘electricity’ comes in all colours from dirty black to eco’ green.

AGL will be mothballing this facility in the coming years and hopefully greener power will keep it that way.

It’s still pretty cool though...

Somewhere between clear blue summer skies and rainy grey wintery days is a special place where beach and horizon meet in a golden celebration of texture and colour.

It’s a good place to be...

There once was a rascal of a schoolboy who’s name was Jeff. I’ve no first hand knowledge of his adolescent reputation other than the recollections of a good friend.

What Jeff had was a vision for his city to transform it from just another big city into a world class expression of urban life.

As an outsider my first awareness of Jeff’s vision were the amazing motorway sculptures on route from the airport to the city. That was twenty years ago now and the rest is history.

This creation by Denton Corker Marshall, affectionately known as ‘The Ribcage’ reminds me of what Jeff might have been seeing at the end of the tunnel all those years ago.

What made these sentinels of sodium and chlorine leave their ionic progenitors behind and rise up from the brine?

Once this salt would have been harvested and used locally in the manufacture of glass and other industrial applications.

Now these salty sentinels simply watch and wait.

Everyone of them beautiful,

Every one of them unique,

Every one of them a priceless moment in time which will never happen again.

There is nothing simple about sunset.

Rivulets of seawater snake their way in from Barket Inlet through woodlands of white mangrove bringing life to the boggy marshlands of Torrens Island.

The colours are surreal with the greens and yellows of magrove canopy yielding to the vibrant crimson of red samphire salt-marsh.

So much beauty so close to home.

A gorgeous sunset this evening and golden afterglow across the horizon was all ours from the Garden Island dolphin sanctuary.

Alas we saw no dolphins but the mosquitoes were more than happy to entertain us once the sun was gone.

The mangroves, the yachts, the power station and the industrial skyline, a disharmonious collection of juxtaposed themes almost seem beautiful in the evening twilight.

Tomm Otterness's 'Other Worlds' sculptures in Hamad International Airport are imposing, engaging, whimsical and amusing all in the same visual feast.

It pays to linger here just a little more than you might and pay attention to the detail.

The initial wow turns to intrigue as those odd little bronze protrusions start coming to life with their own little stories within the story of their benevolent giant host.

It comes around every year, that day that polarises our nation between the pride of being Australian and the inherited guilt of how we came to be here.

The expression 'true blue' has been adopted to mean 'something very Australian' and if you ask most people what it means to them you will get very different answers.

This lone prospector with best friend and mining pick, symbols of mate-ship and hard work, seem to me as 'true blue' as you can get.

There are so many ways to enjoy Melbourne's skyline. Usually we try and find some vantage where that impressive skyline appears unencumbered by distractions.

Here at St Kilda the tall masts of boats at rest made sure that was never going to happen. Here they are just as imposing a sight as the city itself.

You could not really call it a scale model but more of an artistic interpretation of a bi-plane from time when flying was just a sport for the wealthy.

Today however, for those enthusiasts willing to search for or machine their own parts, restore and maintain and or construct from scratch; owning and flying a vintage bi-plane is possible for anyone lucky enough to have a little time, income and help.

For the constructor of this plane though I suspect it was all about the art while their feat stayed firmly on the ground.

It's only a few minutes before the sun will vanish below an ocean horizon but still the sky looks burned.

Above the clouds and to the west a traveller peers out from their window seat, stares into the deepening untainted azure sky and and marvels a different beauty.

I love and am amazed at the schools of bullseyes that inhabit the wreck of 'The Australian' just a few nautical miles off the coast out from Glenelg. For me they are the most enjoyable feature of this dive.

Dizzy with delight at the flashing silver all around me I almost forgot to capture this wonderful sight.

A salty creek weaves its way through the scrubby wetlands of Gilman and Barker Inlet. Not so wet are these wetlands now as summer reaps its share of the life giving water.

A few stubborn waterholes remain linked along the curvy, salty, watercourse; resisting to the last.

The birds know it is just a matter of time.

Tucked away on the eastern side of North Adelaide is a rural oasis in the midst of suburbia.

Not only is Lefevre Park, part of the Adelaide Parklands but also home to a herd of horses owned by and looked after by local residents. It seems such an odd place to find these beautiful animals living so close to the city but I have to say it delighted me as well.

For a little while at least I felt like I was in some quiet rural country town as I wandered through the grassy paddocks. The peace however rapidly vanished as I got back into my car and rejoined the city traffic.

Diving during the transition into twilight is a strange and beautiful sensation. It sneaks up on you stealthily like a high cloud creeping across the sun.

At first I am simply aware of a change in mood. Some fish become scarce while others, more at home in the dark places of the sea come out into the open. My attention on the fishes and their behaviours captures my attention; masking my awareness of the fading light.

Almost by surprise I notice I really can't see much anymore. All has become grey and ghostly. Rather than spoil the mood by turning on my lights I'll swim back to the anchor and make my way back up the line.

I soon catch the last hint of colour and light hitting the seas above as the sun dips below the horizon and I realise just how dark it is now down here as I make my way back up to my airy sanctuary above.

There are many rite of passage traditions we observe, give meaning to and feel some strong emotive connection with. Today our daughter and her partner boarded a plane for Europe, a trip the two of them had planned for more than a year.

Funny how I never imagined how important this would be to me until those moments just before she went through security and disppeared from view and from our lives for the next five weeks.

Sure she has been making decisions and taking control of her own life for some time now but today made her independence more real to me than ever before.

This image from my own recent travels is a window shot of Doha as I head back to Adelaide:

... we are looking forward to hers when she comes home.

No not my everyday view this time but a quick trip to Melbourne to see one of our favourite musicians. Our personal after show party found us here at a bar at the top of the Crown Metropol.

I've always found the view from high places addictive. I'd prefer a mountain top but this will do quite nicely.