On Tuesday it was clear that Lisa and the Peppy Plungers would not be bobbing off our local beach on the weekend. The forecast was looking glorious for it, with gradually increasing temperatures, a gentle swell, and mostly sunny skies. The problem being a decomposing carcass of a 12.5m Humpback Whale (Megaptera novaeangliae) that had washed up on the beach. With it came the risk of predators being attracted. Indeed a 4.5m Great White Shark (Carcharodon carcharias) was spotted just 10m off the shore, and is still lingering about:
The carcass was removed within a day, but the risk remains. As such the beach is closed to water activities for at least a week. You would have to be pretty dumb to risk it. Above Lisa and I went down for the morning walk on Thursday, and it still smelt like a fish market. Bits of the carcass were scattered along the beach, having fallen off as it was being transported. Washed-up whale carcasses are seasonally more common along our coast between March and November, which aligns with the migration period of the more common species we see:
That said in recent weeks there have been an unusually high number of carcasses washing up. Four needing to be removed from the more popular beaches in the last fortnight. This would appear to have coincided with lower overall migration numbers, and potential environmental stressors. Today Howsie and I put ourselves in what some might find a stressful environment, as we made the time to nip down to Willyabrup. I had asked him what he may be keen to climb today, and nothing was forthcoming. It was a case and wait and see how it goes:
With the place to ourselves and lovely conditions anything and everything was on the table. Starting on the mighty Steel Wall. Picking off the line that snakes a weaving passage up the easiest path, in two glorious pitches. Howsie had been a little nervous on the crux of the first pitch, but held it together. Enough to feel up to tackling a couple of slightly stiffer routes, which start from the halfway ledge on this impress wall. It was his lead and this is where his nerves got the better of him, and he started to doubt himself and pump out:
I’ve observed stress contagion affect several people I have climbed with over the years. A phenomenon where an observer can be equally affected by the stress a person they are watching. It can be transferred through unconscious mimicry in response to visual or audible cues; physical reactions of the situation, such as muscles tensing or pluses racing; and even your brain can play games with you, when specialized cells called mirror neurons kick off and make you feel what the other person feels. Making you doubt your own ability:
So much so that even before you jump on the climb yourself, the self-doubt holds you back. I seem to generally have a low level of anxiety sensitivity. In most situations not allowing myself to become flustered when others may be stressed or frightened. That is not to say I was completely insensitive to Howsie’s situation today. Being able to use a few co-regulation techniques to get him to calm his mind, focus on the task, and get the job done. And indeed he did eventually make his way to the top. No doubt happy it was my lead next:
It was probably good that he picked the bolted route to have a bash at. Whereas my trad line was somewhat runout. With just one potential bit of gear in the entire top half, it definitely needs a calm and cool head to avoid a big fall. That said as with all the climbs on this bit of rock, it is very fine and good fun. With the safety of a rope above him, Howsie lapped up the holds, moves, and position. To enjoy more of it, I suggested we stay on Steel Wall. He was OK with that but admitted to tiring. So it would be my lead, which I was more than up for:
The bottom part of the line was pumpy and steep. It was my turn to admit to starting to tire, and it was indeed a bit of a battle but I clung on. There are three fine cruxes, above is the second, thankfully with rests between each of them. Watching me have to work hard Howsie’s anxiety sensitivity was creeping up, and he doubted whether he could follow up. But he did after which his arms were toasted, not even up for our usual finale route to see if a snake was out. Instead for something different, and cruisy, he picked a nice long slab to lead us out:
