Heron Island

Heron island is one of a group of islands located off the coast of Gladstone, Australia, at the southern end of the Great Barrier Reef. It is unique in many ways. It is a coral cay, which means it is an island made up entirely of broken coral and animal skeletons. Less than 10 percent of the island is sand. The other nice part of the island is that there are no day trippers. Everyone on the island either lives there or is a guest at the resort--except for me.

Half of the island is a University of Queensland research station and the other half is part of the resort. There is a very visible tiered class system. You are either a tourist on vacation, a university student, or a worker.

There are days when my job is frustrating and days when I laugh that I get paid to do it. We designed some houses for University research accommodation and the contractor needed a framing inspection. I flew up from Brisbane to Gladstone and hopped on a helicopter for a 25 minute ride to the Island.
I will admit that I tried to play it cool, as though this was just another helicopter ride to yet another exotic location. The ground crew offered to take a photo of me in front of the helicopter. I happily said yes and could not wipe this cheesy grin off my face.

Some points interest:

-They make you wear an inflatable vest in the event that the helicopter crashes and you successfully hit the water at a speed which does not kill you and successfully escape the long whirling blades above your head. I guess it makes it more sporting for the sharks.
-There are inflatable rafts on each skid of the helicopter. The instances where these are successfully used are probably more remote than the personal life vest. I am sure they are installed merely to ease wary passengers.
-I learned that the rotors of a helicopter spin at a constant speed (approximately 400 revolutions per minute.) The pilot changes the pitch of the blades to create lift. I always thought they varied the speed.

On the way to the island we flew over Wistari Reef which has a tidal lagoon in the center. The water in the middle of the reef is a different color blue throughout the day. It was gorgeous. The photo below doesn't quite capture it.

And this is Heron Island. It is largely uninhabited and there are no buildings above the tree line. You can walk around the perimeter of the island in about 20 minutes.

I was greeted at the helicopter pad by the site foreman, walked to the site and started my inspection. Two and a half hours later, I was done and walked back to the resort bar for the flight home.
That is the unfortunate part of the story. I was in paradise for three hours and spent ten minutes sipping on lemonade and staring out into the ocean yearning for a pair of fins and a snorkel. Timing is important. There are many reasons why I had to go back to work the next day and why I didn't schedule the site visit on a Friday or Monday. They all seem trivial when standing at the edge of the beach.

possums in the attic

Opossum: Western hemisphere marsupial (ugly)










Possum: Marsupial native to Australia (cute)

Apparently, the thing to do if you are a possum is to find a way into the attic space of a house and set up shop.

Step 1: climb across to the roof on a power line or fling yourself on the roof from a tree branch.
Step 2: find hole through the exterior cladding into the roof space
Step 3: scamper across the ceiling at all hours of the night and make scratching noises
Step 4: ???
Step 5: profit

This house and our previous house have had possums living above us and I really don't mind them most of the time. I like to imagine the possom equivalent of Anne Frank writing memoirs about living in the same house as us.

A few weeks ago, we went to the Ekka (the Queensland equivalent of a state fair) and saw a reptile show. They pulled out a six foot long carpet python and informed us that they are commonly found living in the roof space of houses.

Apparently, the thing to do if you are a python is to find an attic with a family of possums and clean house.

Earlier in the week, Mary was chatting with a few moms at Cole's preschool and discovered that there are two pythons living above the classroom and they occasionally sun themselves on the roof. One of them had a suspicious looking bump along its length. The other moms, native to Brisbane, started reminiscing about various places they have lived where there were snakes living in the attic. The general consensus is that snakes are preferred over possums.

This got me thinking about two things:

1. If I was a snake, the perfect place for me to live would be near a continually renewable supply of plump, uncoordinated, oblivious children with apathetic caretakers.
2. Nobody at the school has considered calling a pest removalist.

[Edit: after reading this, my wife informed me that a removalist has been called. But that they are taking their sweet time getting around to evicting the snakes. I was also telling someone at church this morning about the pythons and his reply was: "They aren't really big enough to carry one of the children away, are they? So what are you worrying about?"]

*thank you Wikipedia for the possum pictures