At Port Lincoln we check into the first caravan park we encounter, based on gut feel. Evidently the (persistant) gastro bug is affecting that gut as well ... and we spend the night sheltering from gale force winds on an inhospitable cliff top. We check out early and the next caravan park quickly puts everything right, with pelicans and breathtaking panoramas aplenty.
Port Lincoln is the tuna capital of the Southern Hemisphere and our stay is defined by the great Swim-With-The-Tuna experience, worth it just to see everyone squeezed into wetsuits, let alone the chance to paddle alongside these fish on steroids. Our swim is preceded by the chance to hand-feed the tuna breakfast, followed by a sailing tour around the harbour, and capped off by the close call of Rikki (and Sam) being forgotten in the bathroom after everyone disembarks back at the port.
Port Lincoln also gives us an unexpected team building opportunity at the local BMX track, as we cheer on one another to conquer the jumps and dips. And just when we thought that nothing could surprise us, Jack reveals a new love for washing the dishes, and for preparing Israeli salad (cucumber, tomato and a fair whack of salt) for lunch and dinner.
We spend a further two days in quiet family bonding mode - and giving the gastro gang some much needed rest and relaxation - before deciding that it’s high time we head bush again.
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| Feeding frenzy as we hand deliver brekkie to the enormous tuna. Best take the edge off that appetite BEFORE we get in the water... |
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| All suited up and ready to swim. Worth mentioning that neither Rikki nor Benji made it past the steps before declaring they were too cold to go further, the consequence perhaps of flipper shoes that were at least four sizes too big. But full points for effort. |
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| Budge and Jack float amongst the tuna. Moments later Budge ditches the snorkle and dives down beneath them, brave lad. |
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| Bihary BMX Bandits. |
