Castaway

This is a poem I wrote, regarding the past week. It started just after leaving the Aboriginal Laura Dance Festival on Sunday (the 21st). We arrived in Cooktown, on Sunday evening and spent Sunday night sleeping on the grass in a park in the middle of Cooktown, under the palms trees and stars with kangaroos hopping around.. What a great experience. Cooktown was the most northerly place we have access to on this roadtrip. So it was the hottest too.. We had an amazing week, and this poem sums it all up..

Arriving at a beach, going by the name of Quarantine Bay
Early on Monday morning; the start of another amazing day
In Cooktown it was, this bay we found so great
A little tropical paradise, for us it did await
We didn't have any plans, nor had we a clue
Of how long we'd stay or what we would do
Camping was prohibited but we didn't really care
All these signs were pissing us off and it seemed so unfair
So we decided to take a chance and stay for just one night
And take as much as possible from this beautiful sight
We camped within meters of that tropical beach
With a view so surreal but never out of reach
One day of baking in the sun wasn't really enough
We were having great times and they never got too tough
Doing nothing and finding the ease in living in isolation
Because there weren't many visitors and there was no civilization
One night turned into two and soon in to three
The days just kept on rolling and we were feeling so free
What were we doing and how did we fill our days?
It was mainly with relaxation and soaking up the rays
Another couple set up camp, after our first night
Tarnie and Kieran they were, and they shared in our delight
Gazing at the stars at night and listening for crocs
Apparently a 4-metered one had been spotted on our rocks
This happened weeks ago, so the danger was still there
That an encounter with this monster could cause a big scare
So swimming wasn't advisable but we did it anyhow
We weren't very sensible, when I look back on it now
The thrill of the croc being around, was definitely the case
It kept us on our toes all day and Jason longed to see it's face
We never did get a sighting of that 4 metered beast
However we did manage to hunt for food and cook up a feast
Jason is the bushman or the hunter from back then
And so a wild turkey soon would become a fried hen
He saw this turkey hanging around and simply couldn't resist
So to catch it with a snare, showed that his determination would persist
We killed and gutted it and threw it under the heat of the fire
It was going to be our dinner and our belief couldn't have been higher
Belief that this turkey would be delicious without a doubt
Belief that we were self sufficient and would never go without
But when it came to dinnertime, things weren't as they seemed
The turkey that was meant to be so nice would never be redeemed
It turned out back and not so tasty, or disgusting would be the word
It was the most overcooked and underfed turkey existing in the world
We did feel bad for taking his life and not eating his meat
But there was nothing we could do, except chill out in the heat
Then we came across palm trees with coconuts galore
Jason was climbing it, as he was ready and eager to explore
Coconut milk and the fruit itself, were soon coming out of our ears
And that's so much more tropical than having a few beers
Then came the afternoon of acting as Tom Hanks
After Jason made a spear to fish, and not on the rivers banks
Fishing as in Castaway, with the hunters eye and strength
And it actually worked to both our shocks, as a stingray caught a dent
It's a fish native to Oz and the type that's made to kill
But for us it was a yummy meal and for Jason another thrill

A sunrise each and every morning, above the deep blue sea
5 nights and 5 days of bliss, was all that mattered to me
That week has now ended and it belongs in the past
But the effect it had on both of us, was precious enough to always last..