Thanks For All The Fish

Yesterday we had an uneventful ride to Shark Bay. As expected the Monkey Mia resort is fully booked. What we didn't expect is Denham - the nearest town - is also fully booked. We've arrived at the start of school holidays and there aren't even unpowered tent sites left. Gah. Luckily the information centre keeps track of cancellations; I wind up with an overpriced motel room and Dave/Kirsten get into a rundown cabin.

Today I get up early to see the dolphin feedings at Monkey Mia. The shores are crowded with eager parents shoving their reluctant children knee deep into the water, hoping to have them selected to hand a fish to a well fed dolphin. It seems comical; the kids all have a mixed expression of awe and terror when they see the dolphins. I wonder when one of them is going to start bawling... ahh, there's one, right on cue.

The water is pretty murky and I really can't see much of the dolphins. There are apparently 3000 dolphins in the bay although only a half dozen regulars appear for the daily feedings. We hang around for the second feeding but still the water is dark so all I can see are gray blobs floating beneath the surface. I'm unimpressed.

I look around for something else to do at the resort. There is an easy hiking trail nearby and the signage promises an abundance of wildlife. However an hour later I've not seen so much as a lizard. This is all turning out pretty poorly. I hike back to the resort to watch the third and final feeding for today. Unfortunately I'm too late; the third feeding is over and the dolphins don't stick around when there's no food. Damnation.

However as I'm sitting near the beach waiting for Dave and Kirsten the dolphins come back with vain hope of a fourth feed. Hah, that should end any argument that dolphins are intelligent: the stupid animals can't even count to three! The hoardes of tourists have disappeared so I can stand right on the edge of the water. There are six dolphins and one swims up and starts floating right in front of me; it lies within arm's reach, its body sideways, almost beached in the clear shallow water, with one eye looking directly into both of mine. The dolphin floats motionless for nearly a minute before figuring there's no more food, then it swims back into the bay. I realise I'm standing there with a mixed expression of awe and terror; I quickly compose myself before anybody notices.

We head back into Denham for lunch. Dave spots a blue Ninja with ACT registration and stops to chat with the owner, Shane. He's doing the same trip as us only in the opposite direction, and on a sportsbike! I can't begin to imagine how painful that seat must be. Shane has the biggest Cheshire grin on his face. I guess he's happy to discover he's not the only crazy person doing this trip.