Newcastle was, and still is, a coal town. Coal was used by aboriginal people for thousands of years. Soldiers taking convicts to the area found coal lying on the ground but underground coal mines have since been dug. Newcastle’s excellence ocean port solves the transport problem. And heavy industries such as steel making (now discontinued) have sprung up. 

What do Newcastilians do when not working the mines? They surf. Newcastle has beaches that attract world-class surfers. 

Lately, Newcastle has become a haven for folks who can’t afford the hyper inflated cost of living in Sydney, a two hour’s drive away. 

Coal isn’t going to be the engine of economic growth going forward and a gritty coal town isn’t going to attract new residents and tourists. So the local government is spending multiple billions of dollars to fix the place up. They ripped out the downtown railroad tracks and put in light rail. Lots of high rise condo, apartment and office buildings are springing up, modern brick, steel and glass just like Sydney. It’s becoming a good looking place to work, live and play. And as a cruise boat terminal and as a gateway to the Hunter Valley wine region, the nascent tourism business is looking up. 

Our plan for the day was to visit Newcastle’s museum in the morning on our own and then do a guided walking tour in the afternoon. The shuttle bus dropped us at the museum which, like virtually every museum on the planet, is closed on Mondays. Plan B, suggested by a nearby info booth guy: take the light rail to Fort Scratchley. An unfortunate name but the Brigadier General Scratchley who designed the fort looks in his portrait like a proper British officer. The fort, originally built in the late 1880s to defend against a perceived threat from Russia and was significantly expanded during WWII. 

Fort Scratchlely has the distinction of being the only Australian costal battery to return enemy fire in WWII. On June 8, 1942 a Japanese submarine fired several dozen rounds at the manufacturing facilities at the Newcastle dockyard. Scratchley’s six inchers fired four rounds, all missed, and the sub escaped. 

We met a volunteer at the gate (free admission). He asked, “How old do you think I am?” My guess was that he looked at least 90 so I said, “I don’t know. Eighty maybe?” “I’m 97,” he responded, chest pushing out slightly. “I grew up in Liverpool during the war and went to bed every night to the sound of German bombs. I was so happy because that meant no school the next day. And I’ve got a thousand stories like that. One time there was this girl in Malay . . . “ A coworker came over and we made our escapes after inviting him to visit us in Florida. He didn’t get the girl. A guy he met by random chance on the way to Malay knew the girl and said, “Stay away from my niece or else!”

We took the light rail back to the museum and the shuttle bus back to the ship for a quick rest before the walking tour.

The bus for the walking tour dropped us near the Lumber Yard where convicts once worked. Next, we walked to the old train station, now a shopping destination. Our guide pointed out that, unlike many European cities with an “old town,” Newcastle’s old buildings are mixed in with the new. Of course “old” in Newcastle is not much more than 150 years old. 

The walking tour then traversed a street one block away from the light rail street. It was a residential neighborhood, once run down but now gentrified in turn-of-the-twentieth century houses. The culmination of this not so strenuous hike was ice cream at a parlor near the beach. Great ice cream, but then again in all our travels we’ve never encountered anything but great ice cream. It took two runs of the bus to get us all back. Judy and I were unfortunate to be in the second bus. I whiled away the 30-minute delay with a wade in the chilly Pacific Ocean waters. Couldn’t find a surfboard though. Crikey.

I asked our guide if “transportation” – Briton’s practice of sending convicts to New South Whales for seven years, ten years or life – had a lasting impact. He said, yes, in at least two ways. First, the Australian accent and manner of speaking stems from the uneducated cockney accent of lower class British commoners. And the Aussie’s tendency to abbreviate words – Newcastlillians becomes Newies, Australians becomes Aussies – derives from the same street language of the convicts. 

Second, Aussies practice what is termed Tall Poppy Syndrome. This is the practice of downplaying one’s elevated status in society and among friends. People want to avoid being seen as the tall poppy in the field and goes to great lengths to be one of the masses. Politicians do it. Successful business people do it. Our guide’s uncle is a multimillionaire and dresses like a bumb. This comes from the leveling effect of being a transported convict. No matter whether the person was convicted for petty theft, as many were, or a white collar crime like embezzlement or forgery, everyone suffered the same indignities and pain. To tout one’s elevated status in that situation was to bring down ridicule from fellow transporteres or extra punishment from the often sadistic overseers.

We were back on the ship in time for dinner and departure from the dock. We finished packing – bags out by 10 PM – and went to bed so as to be ready for the 5 AM entrance to Sydney Harbor. I’m typing this on the plane to Uluru (aka Ayer’s Rock) and, spoiler alert, getting up at five was well worth it. It’s going to be 104 degrees, but dry, when we get there. Most outside activities will be in the early morning or late afternoon.

XToday, our last day on the Orion, we toured a coal and surfing town, a wannabe tourist town, called Newcastle. Unfortunately, we’re out of good Internet service and I’m out of steam, so the pictures and write up will have to wait. It’s 10 PM right now and we have to be on Deck 8 at 5:00 AM to see our entrance to Sydney Harbor, which our captain says is a must see — one of the best harbor entrances in the world. Then we’re off the ship at 7:15, on the plane at 11:35, arriving Uluru at 12:30 PM, give or take a time change or two.

But never fear, Judy and I have been producing videos for your viewing pleasure. There are three from dry land and one from underwater snorkeling. Here’s the link to the page that shows all four. Double click on any that interest you.

https://judyrick.zenfolio.com/australia_videos%C2%A0

See you soon!

Can you imagine traveling around the world to see a Komodo Dragon and then zipping out, not seeing a single lizard? That was fortunately my unfounded fear. If we saw one, we saw a dozen.

We didn’t see Komodo Dragons on Komodo Island, though. Instead, we went by ship’s tender to Rinca Island, home of the Komodo National Park and some 1,400 Komodo Dragons.The tour lasted about 2 hours and involved a walk of maybe a half mile on an elevated boardwalk. The walkway served to protect our shoes from the mud and to protect the rest of us from the animal eating dragons. These critters eat everything from their babies up to animals as big as deer and even water buffalos. A monkey or two would do for the young or a really hungry adult. We saw all these food items on our walk, missing only the wild boars (pigs) that some of our shipmates saw on their tour earlier in the day.

According to wikipedia,

            “Attacks on humans are rare, but Komodo dragons have been responsible for several human fatalities, in both the wild and in captivity. According to data from Komodo National Park spanning a 38-year period between 1974 and 2012, there were 24 reported attacks on humans, fine of them fatal.”

Also, according to the park,

            “Compared to crocodilians and other reptiles, Komodo dragons have relatively weak bite strength. Instead, they rely on their sharp, curved teeth and long, sturdy claws to slash and tear at their prey with astonishing force.”

Not very nice table manners, but sometimes I get that urge when I dig into a thick, juicy steak.

As a frame of reference, Florida has about 8 alligator attacks each year that require medical attention. Fatal alligator bites are rare. From 1948 to 2021 Florida reported 442 unprovoked bite incidents from alligators, 26 of which resulted in fatalities, according to the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission.

The rest of the day was spent on the usual “day at sea” activities. You know, late breakfast, early lunch, teatime at 4 PM with tea and crumpets, Lecture on East Timor at 4:30, discussion forum on Indonesia at 5:15, astronomy lecture at 6:30, dinner at 7:30 and a musical performance at 9:15 PM. The singer was a former Viking Cruise Director (the guy with the big smile that’s supposed to keep us smiling) who now has a family with three kids who keep him closer to home these days.

Judy and I also found a tabletop backgammon game with which we’ve been relearning the rules. Unfortunately the game is flawed – probably needs a software update. Judy has beat me four straight, a statistically improbable outcome. I’m opening a trouble ticket.

You’d think with all that free time I’d be getting my blog posting for the day done early. But no, here I sit on our balcony at noon the next day (Wednesday), typing away while 67 dragon pictures upload. The upload over Starlink, shared by 1,000 passengers, is slow, about 1 mbps. I haven’t taken a single picture yet today and with our heavy calendar I probably won’t do another posting until Thursday from Darwin, Australia.

Speaking of time, it’s getting really weird. Up until now, we’ve been 13 hours ahead of EST, 12 hours ahead of the British Virgin Islands, where Jeff and Rebecca are. So, 8 AM Monday here was 7 PM Sunday in Boston. Now we’ve switched over to Darwin time, which meant that we set our clocks ahead one and one-half hours last night. We now either subtract 14.5 hours to get EST or we can add 9.5 hours and call it yesterday. I’m not sure why Darwin insists on the half-hour thing. I suspect it reflects some communal pigheadedness on the part of Darwin Aussies.

When we travel to a distant place, viewing native flora and fauna is always a checkbox item. For Australia, we’ve done fairly well for aquatic species – crocs, coral and fish. We even saw a lizard or two. But not so much for land-based animals and birds. I had hopes my rain forest walk the other day would be fruitful, but nothing except a parrot in a tree. There’s only one more land excursion before we leave the ship but that’s going to be in a town – Newcastle – and so a pigeon or two is all we can expect. So today we broke down and went to the zoo.

Actually, when we signed on for this trip, today was supposed to be spent in Brisbane, the capital of Queensland. I had looked forward to learning more about the 19^th century history of this town but Viking, in its infinite wisdom, changed the itinerary to anchoring at Mooloolaba. Mooloolaba (kinda fun to say, once you get the hang of it) is another resort town like the others we’ve seen, this one having more sailing yachts per foot of waterfront than any other port we’ve called at. Lots of fishing boats too – shrimp prawn fishing, I’d guess. Frankly, I’ve had enough of these resorts. I’m convinced the Aussies of Queensland are a wealthy lot. Like most such places around the world, there were few empty berths. The yacht owners are all busy earning money to pay for the berthing fees, rather than sailing, I guess.

The trip from the dock to the zoo was only 20 minutes or so over very nice motorways – there’s much to be said for living in places lacking cold weather that make frost heaves and potholes a fact of life. The Australia Zoo was founded by the father and mother of Steve Irwin, the guy known as “The Crocodile Hunter” who had a television series of that name in the 1990s. He’s the one who introduced the word “Crikey,” meaning “oh dear me,” as in “Crikey, that croc took a bite out me mate’s bloomin’ onion,” to mix a metaphor. Steve Irwin died tragically when he was bitten by a stingray in 2006 while filming an underwater documentary in the Great Barrier Reef.

The zoo was quite nice. I particularly liked the reptile and bird displays, Judy perhaps not so much. And of course there were kangaroos and Koala bears to see and even pet. The only thing I missed was seeing the dingoes, the wild dog of Australia. Dingoes are variously listed as a protected species or a pest depending on which governmental agency and area of Australia you might be visiting.

Maybe we’ll get lucky and see a dingo in the Outback. It would be nice to see a ‘roo in the wild too. We’ll see.

It’s now Sunday, December 3 as I type, an “at sea” day and I must admit I’ve slacked off on my blogging since not every day is an “on” day. The Internet service, provided via Skylink, is very slow and intermittent here. I suspect Elon hasn’t launched enough satellites in the Southern Hemisphere to provide good service. It worked much better up north near the Equator. Judy has two videos on Australia ready to go but cannot upload them.

Tomorrow at Newcastle is our last day on the Orion. They kick us off on Tuesday and we’re off to the Outback. Who knows what Internet service we’ll find there so you may not hear from us for several days. But all should be good in Melbourne and Sydney.

We were scheduled for a repeat snorkeling session just like the one day-before-yesterday. Thankfully, Judy figured out that it would be an exact duplicate, so we switched at the last minute to the Whitsundays Yacht Experience. This tour promised a sailing experience (you know, sails and wind) plus swimming and snorkeling and exploring to see aboriginal cave drawings.

The sailing part worked well. The Lady Enid is a 72-foot two-masted sailing boat capable of handling 24 passengers in comfort. The day turned out to be sunny, warm and windy. Our captain estimated the wind at 20 kts and my guess was we were seeing 3 to 4-foot waves. The motion of the boat was lively and there was a pretty good tilt toward the leeward side of the boat.

All those statistics are important to us since last Spring, when we went yachting with Jeff and Carter in the British Virgin Islands, Jeff, thinking of his dottering old parents, booked a twin-hulled catamaran, rather than a monohull. Not so tippy and not so rocking. We never saw more than 10 Kts of wind so sailing was smooth. Now we’ve got our sea legs and are ready for more next time we go out with Jeff.

The Whitsunday Islands are not well defined but consists of roughly 74 islands in the chain named the Cumberland Islands by Captain James Cook on June 3, 1770. He named the the Whitsunday Passage to honor the day of Pentecost, Whit Sunday. So, we can say that we sailed the same waters that the H.M.B. Endeavor passed through 253 years ago. We were making 9 Kts; Cook averaged 3 Kts. No GPS; no auxiliary engine. What a guy.

We set out from Arlie Beach, a happening resort town. Our Captain has been sailing here for 26 years and virtually everything we saw has been built in that timeframe. The trip to the Nara Inlet on Hook Island took over two hours. The plan was to climb the cliff to see the aboriginal cave drawings, eat lunch, go snorkeling and sail home.

One small hitch: the mainsail wouldn’t come down. It would drop maybe 5 feet and stop. No amount of jiggling of the ropes worked. Finally, the first mate put on a harness and the gal serving lunch cranked him up to the top of the mast – what, maybe 50 or even 75 feet above the deck? He found a bolt that had come loose, blocking the sail and presto, down it came. This whole process took a good half hour.

We took the dingy ashore and climbed up a fairly steep hill to the caves. Judy elected to stay in the shade and avoid the climb, which was probably a good decision. One lady in our group fell in the drink getting out of the zodiac-style dingy, tripped and cut herself coming down the hill (lots of blood but no great damage) and then fell getting into the dingy. I caught her final fall: she landed on top of me and I fell on top of a fortunately smooth and soft rock. No damage done.

A light lunch was served. The captain ordered the sail raised to the point of the previous problem and off we went, presumably to the snorkeling beach. The captain, however, announced that due to the delay, the rough seas and the poor snorkeling conditions that we’d head home instead. Probably a good decision but I was looking forward to another underwater photo session.

Back on board the Orion, we attended a lecture on Sir Joseph Banks and other naturalists who sailed on Cook’s first two voyages. Cook had had enough of scientists and didn’t take any on the third trip. But Banks and the others contributed greatly to scientific knowledge and their findings are main displays in many natural history museums.

I never thought I’d say it, but after three eight-hour days on the tourist trail, snorkeling, hiking the rain forest and yachting, I’m ready for a day at sea. Judy and I had a late breakfast, took our constitutional on the Promenade Deck (now called the Jogging Track, although I’ve yet to see anyone go at more than a brisk walk pace, present typer included).

I’ve been reading The Fatal Shores about British practice of exporting 168,000 criminals to Australia beginning in the 1788 and continuing until the mid 1868. Many were convicted of minor crimes of property theft, driven by poor economic conditions. Brutal, inhumane, slavish and nothing to be proud of. We’re going to a lecture on the subject in a few minutes. There are four lectures scheduled for today, covering the Great Barrier Reef, the Quad consortium (India, Australia, Japan and the US), a port talk covering Mooloolaba, our destination for tomorrow and one on the importance of islands in world history. Mooloolaba was renamed by a real estate developer from the Near North Shore to Mooloolaba. Kinda like the renaming of Ship Pond to Onawa so as to attract more “Sports.”

We’re going to the other fancy restaurant tonight – the Chef’s Table. We did the Italian version a week or so ago.