No one in their right mind would enjoy a day with this much wind. But we don’t have a caravan to hide inside, so we went in search of a protected bay for a dive. We drove here and there, round and round, and were about to throw the towel in when we found a wave to surf in Sceale Bay (pronounced scale). The wind was still howling, but the dunes protected the water just enough to make it a sure thing. I even went for a swim! I have no photos of this beach, as the sand was bound to have seized up my camera. And the flies. Have I mentioned the flies? They are having a bumper breeding season. They love getting inside your glasses. They stick like glue. They are in plague proportions. We are not enjoying the flies. Just had to get that off my chest.

We came back for a customary late lunch and the boys retreated to the kids’ games room, which was behind a flyscreen. John and I stood knee deep in the knee deep water, as you would expect, where the flies don’t go. Streaky Bay is one very shallow bay, and it must be a good 500m till the water gets past your knees. So we just stood there, yacking with a lovely Nomad from Shepparton.

It was time for action, so the boys took the kayak out and paddled off for a dive. I met them down on the jetty in town. They collected 4 razor fish. These are a weird kind of mollusc, in a fan shape, about 25-30cm long. You crack them open like a scallop or a mussel, and the flesh is quite like an abalone. John cooked up the small harvest in garlic and oil, and it was yummy!

After all the awful wind, I had quite forgotten to get anything out of the freezer for dinner. Oh dear. We had to go to the pub for dinner. It was a lucky thing that everyone coped okay with that.