Moreton Island - Tangalooma Island
Pacific Jewel - P&O Australia
There comes a time in every grown woman’s life that she pisses her pants.
That moment came for me hurtling down a ginormous sand dune on Moreton Island, thundering down at a spritely 40km/hr on my wobbly stomach.
You see, when I booked our day tours for Moreton Island while aboard the Pacific Jewel, the Desert Safari sounded fun and not at all scary. To be honest, I really didn’t have a very good idea of what to expect. When I pictured sand dunes, I saw little hills of powdery sand that I could gentle roll my rotund body down, mostly on my bottom. The reality couldn’t be further from the truth.
After a very bumpy, yet truly enjoyable 4WD coach tour to get to the desert, what loomed before my eyes were blindingly dazzling MOUNTAINS of sand. Steep and almost other-worldly. My stomach started twisting in knots as I suddenly grasped what I must do:
A) Pretend to be brave for Miss Hope, and
B) Walk up that huge hill, in the searing sun, burn my feet, plop my body on a very narrow bit of timber and toboggan down the sand dune.
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| About to run |
Look, the view was awe-inspiring to be honest. Beautiful and such a striking contrast from the rest of the Island. But, in that instant, I wanted to turn and run.
We watched the lovely photographer start the trek up the dune – making the ‘stairs’ (you see we couldn’t just higgity-piggity start plodding around the pristine sand dunes. Firstly, it would make a bumpy ride going down, and secondly it would ruin the gorgeous natural dune). She meticulously made her way up, up, up creating a staircase of footprints we were to follow up carefully. It is a lot easier climbing up sand if you step in a foot-print.
With every step she took, I was both marvelled at her fitness (she must have done this numerous times) and getting more and more nervous. Our no-nonsense tour guide ejected us from the bus and showed us how we were to slide down, bending up the front of the ‘toboggan’ to facilitate max slide-speed.
And so we marched. Up, up, up in single file. In a faux-cheery voice I panted, “Hope, this is fun!” as I pushed my feet deeper in the sand to avoid third degree burns.
“Humph”
Finally we made it to the top and it was a breathtaking sight. Actually it took me quite a while to catch my breath. Hope and I just stood there, taking it all in, letting the others in our group go ahead of us – cracking up at those who didn’t quite master staying on their board. Finally, it was our turn. I tried to still my nerves and asked Hope if she wanted to go first, secretly hoping she would!
“If you go, I will,” she retorted, not convinced. She was the only child on the tour and a little nervous.
So, I plopped myself down. It was even more terrifying seeing it from this angle. Half a second later I jumped up and announced quite loudly, “Nup.” By this stage our tour guide had lost all patience (which was not comforting for Hope). I stepped back and let others go down a second time. We watched people crash and roll, it was very funny! After a while, Mr Tour Guide said we had to leave. No, we couldn’t go down on our bums and the only way down was the ‘stairs’ or on our stomachs.
At this stage, I know I needed to instill confidence in Hope and, trying not to vomit from fear, plopped down once again on my board.
“Okay, let’s do this! I’ll go down and then you follow,” I shouted. She nodded.
Before I knew it, Mr Tour Guide pushed me down. Suddenly a wall of sand wooshed towards my face.
It was at this exact moment I lost control of my bladder.
As I turned to see if Hope was watching, I saw the little so-and-so STOMP DOWN THE DUNE! Here I was, hanging on for dear life, blasted with hot grit and yelling:
“HOOOOOOOOOOOOPPPPPEEEEEE, COOOOOME BACCKKKKK”.
She ignored me, even though the whole of Moreton Island could hear me screech.
My screams were soon muffled by a mouthful of sand that invaded my trachea, nostrils and every other orifice. Eyes darting from Hope half way down the dune on my left and the wall of sand ahead, I couldn’t wait to reach the bottom.
Which I did. In one piece. HOORAY!
Grabbing my board and tripping over my feet to get to my stubborn daughter, Hope decided then and there that she would bar me. With a strand of sandy-snot hanging from my nose I repeatedly begged her to tell me why she was upset with me. Nothing. Angry at my wee child but feeling pumped I had conquered my fear, we got back on the bus. We decided it was best we didn’t sit near each other (I decided as she STILL was ignoring me) and I did my best to clear the sand from my sinuses.
Once we were deposited back to the beach, my first stop was to jump into the water (my swimming costume was underneath my clothes) and try to de-sand myself. Hope was still sulking – and I get it now. She’s a kid and was probably very scared, so I did what any mother would do. I picked her up and dunked her in the ocean. Within a few seconds, she was splashing me back in fits of laughter.
And that, my friends, is Parenting 101.
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