RAINED OUT

This is the story of failed holiday plans and small miracles. In April this year, I was showing my family around Queensland.

One of the stops on our trip, was Seventeen Seventy, where we planned to hop on a boat to Lady Musgrave Island.

Of the seven people travelling to Seventeen Seventy, only three had been to Lady Musgrave before — my husband and his parents — leaving the rest of us pretty apprehensive of the ominous clouds following us up from Fraser Island.

Inevitably, the ANZAC Day snorkelling trip was moved to the next day, when the captain found us wet and shivering outside his door.

No dice; the water would be too rough and visibility close to zero.

Disappointed, we decided to take a

drive to the headland carpark and take in the scenery.

It was wet and windy, but so lovely. Standing atop ‘Wave Lookout’, watching those angry waves smash against that ancient coastline, was a powerful experience; filling my mind with the ghostly sounds of long–forgotten sea shanties.

As we were walking towards ‘Bustard Bay Lookout’, I got distracted by a pathway that seemed to dwindle into nothingness.

It was not paved or marked like the others and, at first, I was unsure whether I was allowed to follow it.

Seeing no ‘danger, keep out’ sign or something similar, I decided to follow the road less travelled.

Sure enough, my brother, my husband and our two mothers followed me down my path, at the end of which, we emerged onto a small, empty beach.

Here we were treated to a burst of sunlight from behind the clouds.

I decided that I’d be damned to have travelled all the way to Seventeen Seventy for nothing, so I stripped to my bikini and walked into the warm Pacific Ocean for a dip, where my brother and husband soon joined me.

That spit of beach was deserted (except for us) and the sun held long enough for me to be thoroughly grateful for the long–awaited rain that Queensland needed so badly.

We will go back and I will get to snorkel at Lady Musgrave Island, but not this time.

The snorkelling tourism operator’s pro tip was to come back in the winter, so I will.