The glass house

Friday night after work Lisa and I took the poodles for a walk down to the beach.  The sunset was incredible, tendrils of the sole cloud bank stretched across the sky and turned yellow, orange and finally a fiery red as the sun dipped below the horizon.  We stood watching the amazing show but I also had one eye on the water and noticed it looked reasonably clear, raising my hopes that I might get another dip in before the close of the shore based snorkelling season.  I say that as no doubt the scuba diving conditions further out would remain for a while yet:

I had taken the quick detour over the hill to check the water, on my return from Wilyabrup yesterday.  The colour distinction in the water was reasonable, which is a good sign that the water is clear enough to see the difference between the sandy bottom and reef.  It was however a little choppy and I was feeling pretty beat from the climbing, so decided to postpone it till today.  I went in mid-morning and as shown below the surface was glassy, but there were also a few tell-tale signs such as the beach starting to erode and eddies in the deceptively still looking water:

Added to that that the sun is not as high in the sky anymore, reducing its penetrative power.  These combined factors all resulting in the visibility being on the decline.  I had guessed this may be the case and as such headed out in my boardies, only expecting to be out for a short while.  The water felt cold as I went in, was it changing, was the lower sun having less heating effect on my body, as I bobbed about on the surface, or maybe I was just tired.  Despite immediately feeling cold and the low visibility I stayed out going up and down to see what might be lurking, which really wasn’t much:

It was pretty hard to spot anything from the surface.  I did see a few fish, mostly wrasse and sweeps, and also some lovely sea stars.  I then saw what looked like a black bin liner.  I come across plastic bags out here more often than I would like.  No doubt allowed to get washed in by some inattentive beach goer, thrown away by some careless fishing folk or possibly blown or discarded overboard from the many boats that cruise up and down the coastline.  I felt like I couldn’t pass it by so decided to head down to pick it up, and then probably head back to shore: 

Instead of a plastic bag I’d come across a sea hare, which are probably best known for being toxic to pets.  Dogs have been known to die after ingesting the toxic slime that they exude.  These creatures graze on algae and it seems they only live for one year, despite that this specimen measured from the tips of my fingers to my elbow, so about half a metre.  There are nine genra of sea hares and I’m going to guess that this was Aplysia, which can grow to 60cm and is the largest species.  I’m going to take a further stab and guess that the species is Gigantea, my reason being that this species at least 3 times the size of most other species of Aplysia:

Despite the glassy surface above, the water below was moving quite quickly.  Being pushed back and forth by the swell, and if you look closely you can make out the sediment as it rushes past.  This resulted in the weed getting in the way of a good image of the head.  But with patience and lots of diving down I got a few in which the tentacles at the base of the head can be seen, these are located on either side of the mouth.  The smaller antennae like appendages higher on the head are called rhinophores, which are scent or taste receptors.  On the ridge along the back, it is hard to see but there is an opening visible by the flaps of flesh:

These flaps are called parapodial flaps of which there are two, which can open and close at will.  They close up to help protect the gill and other organs, which previously would have been protected by a shell.  Something that these creatures have discarded overtime.   The flaps also protect two siphons, one to allow fresh sea water to be pumped over the gills and the other for removing deoxygenated water and waste products.  As I watched this gentle giant grazing the second siphons released an excrement in the form of a pellet, something I’m guessing not many would I have seen:

I spent quite a long time observing the sea hare, before moving on and eventually the cold got the better of me and I headed to shore.  On the way I came across this plant, which I have included in a previous post.  I’ve managed to have it identified as the Clifton’s Garcilaria Alga.  In shaded areas it is a pale pink but in open conditions, like this one, it is usually a pale green.  The coating on each branch is a microscopic single-celled algae called diatoms.  They are the only organism on the planet with cell walls composed of transparent opaline silica, so they actually live in a glass house:

Taking the lead

After missing out on our recent trip to Bobs Hollow, Howsie was keen to get out this weekend to get back into it with thoughts on maybe hitting one or two grade 21s.  With that in mind we headed to the Northern Blocks of Wilyabrup, which has four grade 21s.  Two I’ve led, one I decided to abort while leading it resulting in a new route being established and the last I’ve never bothered with, as it leads you to a dead end and it’s a pain to then have to retrieve your gear.  Already conscious that Howsie has not been out much I wondered how things would go:

There are a few lower grade routes here, but the real charm of the area are the longer routes that are graded 18 upwards.  I was a little surprised to hear that Howsie had never led any of the longer lines here, and as such I offered him the rope on the first warm-up route.  Corpus Delecti is a great fully trad line, but the final flake can be unnerving being a tad difficult to protect and also feeling super exposed.  While I’ve led it numerous times before I have also been known to backed off it:

Howsie wandered up with great ease or so it looked from below, when I was actually watching.  He indicated that he could feel his arms starting to pump out on the final flake, but just stayed calm and got on with it.  That and the fact that he hadn’t led any of these routes resulted in me offering him the rope for a second lead.  To the right of us the large roof, which Jug Abuse goes up, still didn’t look inviting to me.  I was kinda pleased when Howsie didn’t seem to be drawn to this line either:

After scoping what was on offer he picked what I regard as one of the classics, which is saying something as nearly all of the routes here are gems.  As Howsie went up again, and like before, I kept a watchful eye out for any signs of dolphins and of course held the rope.  Use No SLCDs has a bit of everything on it, which is part why I like it so much.  A steep start leads to a particular fun jamming crack followed by great steep face climbing that is hard to read.  The only thing missing were the dolphins:

With two very fine routes under his belt it was time to decide whether he needed to get down to business, so once again I offered the rope.  After leading all the routes last weekend I was more than happy to take a back seat and allow Howsie to enjoy the leads.  We wandered round the corner to where two more 21s, of Green Stone and Power Your Mind are located.  The first being super feisty and a bit run out and the second being the one I previously attempted and aborted half way up.  Howsie looked at Green Stone and it stared back at him with an intimidating attitude, so he decided not today:

He did however like the look of Power Your Mind. Without the great ocean views I kept a watchful eye for anything unusual, of course while also diligently holding the rope. It may not seem all that exciting I did spot the above fly, one that I have ever seen before. It’s a Snail Parasitic Blowfly, and as the name suggests their larvae are known to be parasites to snails. As I observed the butterflies and flies, Howsie had already made his decision. Halfway up and after looking at the steep blank wall of Power Your Mind, like me 9 years before almost to the day, he decided that the natural line to the left was more appealing:

He was obviously tiring as he ascended this line, which I called Trust Your Instincts.  It is steeper than the grade 21, but offers better holds and more gear so I gave it a grade that is a couple of notches lower.  After making the decision to enjoy the natural line Howsie made his way to the start of the steep overhung blocks, where it took him a while to muster up the faith to go for it.  As he was getting close to the end I saw him stutter, and his gear was some way below.  Fortunately and with great relief he somehow kept his balance and made the final moves:

It was clear that he needed a break, which in his words meant dialling back the grades or me taking the lead so he could second a route.  Having pre-empted this situation I was already prepared with my decision, which saw us heading back down the main wall to pick off the obvious route.  The start is guarded by a slightly off vertical undercling flake, making for powerful moves before great technical and fingery climbing.  Just my style and I was soon atop and as I was belaying Howsie up I was again looking out for dolphins:

Not a dolphin in sight, and I was now preparing myself to have one of those rare trips to the coast when I didn’t see them.  Meanwhile Howsie was following up, very pleased to have a rope above him.  Loving the line of Digital Delecti but looking super focused, the holds start to round off as you get higher.  But he managed to find enough strength to hold on and work the final moves.  Once standing next to me on top of the cliff, he claimed that it hadn’t quite been the break that he had been hoping for:

So to give him a break I pulled up the rap line and coiled it, suggesting we move across to the shorter lines on The Terrace.  My intentions were immediately obvious, being to scope the fourth grade 21 in the area.  To allow an inspection I even placed the rap rope right down line, giving Howsie the opportunity to check it out in detail and hopefully get sucked in.  As he came down I could hear mumblings, and then as he came over the lower roof he let out a groan and something about that looking hard:

Despite these words, my cunning plan looked to have worked and he was soon giving it a go.  This in my mind is the best 21 of the four here.  It has more consistent and sustained climbing and being a fully sport route seems to be more reasonably protected.  He got past the tricky start and the roof didn’t give him as much grief as he thought it might, but when he reached the second smaller overlap (below) his arms were really feeling it.  As a result he took not one, but three decent whippers before he managed to figure out the moves and pull them off:

Despite feeling completed gassed and having battled for over half an hour on the route Howsie was sporting an ear to ear grin.  Not surprising, while we hadn’t seen any dolphins he was rewarded with having got up Bearded Dolphin, which after all the climbing we had already done was a great achievement.  We were not however quite done.  It seemed rude to come here and not climb Banana Split, one of the original routes here that is nearing 50 years old and is a classic trad line.  Howsie did however make it clear that it was my lead, which I was more than happy to take:

While we may not have bagged more 21s today, it didn’t stress Howsie and I get the feeling that his 2021 challenge will not be pursued with the same level of rigour as his 2020 challenge.  I personally feel that is a good thing, and maybe just attempting one grade 21 on each trip out is enough.  Today certainly had been great and every line was a winner.  To top the morning off, as we trudged out with weary arms and legs, we came across a sand monitor.  As we carefully took a wide berth round it, it just sat there allowing us to get a good look at it before we carried on back to the car:

Fingers crossed

By all accounts it had been a very sensible move on Lisa and my part to stay home over Easter.  The roads had been insanely busy and there were tales of trips to local places taking twice the time or more to get too, if you were unlucky.  To avoid the tourists I also hadn’t been down to the local beach, but on Monday morning it was sunny and the whirly gig on the roof of the shed was almost stationary indicating near to no wind.  I stood outside and listened, not a sound of a wave to be heard.  So the three ingredients of light, swell and wind all seemed promising encouraging me to head to the beach:

Despite being mid-morning it wasn’t as busy as I expected.  No doubt the other end of the beach where we sometime drive would be packed, offering longer stretches for the city folk to drive their cars on the sand.  There were however a few cars parked-up and there was even one crew getting ready to put a jet ski in the water, um.  I decided to make a mental note of that as I went in the water.  No wetsuit today just shorts, and the water felt good.  Not the cold I was expecting.  It was also calm and clear allowing a great view of the ground below:

Over the season the times of the hide tides having been creeping earlier and earlier in the day.  At the start of the season the morning snorkel would have been at low tide, and while this may only make half to three-quarters of a meter difference it is definitely noticeable.  So now when I go in, which is at hide tide, due to the extra depth to the water column having good light is important.  There seemed to be lots of fish about, no large schools but plenty to see.  Above is an elusive Spiny Tailed Leatherjacket.  Today I didn’t dive down to check it out knowing it would just dart away, instead merely watched from above:

I did however go down every so often to see what was to be found, quietly still hoping to stumble across a few more nudibranchs.  The bright orange shown above occasionally attracted my attention and each time on closer inspection was found not a nudibranch.  So I am still unable to make use of Nana’s new book on them.  The above I believe to be either a sponge or compound ascidian, and is still very beautiful to see.  It was on one of these exploratory dives I saw a movement that intrigued me:

I had stumbled across a small octopus tetricus, which had slunk into a crevices as I had gone down.  It tucked itself uptight against a purple sea urchin, and I wondered how comfortable it was feeling and also how it was avoiding the sharp spines.  It did the usual dance with its eyes, bobbing them from side to side almost sizing me up to see if it was worth the risk.  I came back to the surface and floated there keeping an eye on the octopus hoping it would emerge.  I stayed put for a while just watching and it looked to be making moves to come out when the jet ski came uncomfortably close making me look up and also sadly lose sight of the octopus:

After looking round for ages trying to find it again I gave up, in the open ground it is hard to distinguish where you are, cursing the jet ski owner.  Eventually I moved on in search of other new or exciting finds.  Despite looking in many caves and under many ledges, while I saw heaps, there was nothing worth reporting on. Except that is when a cuttlefish, no doubt startled by my sudden appearance, looked to be attacking me.  It’s skin went rough and its tentacles became contorted, as it made a couple of aggressive approaches at me (above).  After which it went back into the protective recess away from me, and only then returning to the usual smooth skin (below):

I noted the bommie position that was very distinctive and left it alone to settle down.  After pottering about a few other bommies nearby I headed back to see if it was still there.  This time ready to try and video the experience.  But it wasn’t, or it was hiding deeper in the matrix of holes under the large bommie, and the entrance was now being guarded by a Western Striped Cardinal Fish.  These fish only grow to approx. 14cm or six inches long and this one looked fully grown.  If you compare the images above it will give you an idea of just how small the cuttlefish I saw was, it really was just a baby:

I was really pleased to have had a dive over Easter and thought once more that that would be it for the snorkel season with windy weather due to come in.  Then on the following Friday I got messages from Nana to say she and Geoff had been out that afternoon and saw heaps, including nudibranchs!!  I had seen the conditions on Thursday and Friday and knew they were looking good, but work had got in the way.  So being hopeful I headed out on Saturday and while it didn’t look great I decided to go in anyway, and was immediately greeted by a small short-tailed stingray:

I followed the ray about for a bit and even took a video, as it circled round me seemingly not wanting to head out to the deeper water.  It is the first time I have seen one of these rays, and really clearly seen the distinct white dots on its pectoral fins (or wings).  Eventually I did brave going out and left the ray in the near shoreline.  While I could see the bottom it was not clear or calm, as the image of Lisa walking the poodles is evidence of.  I carried on regardless for a while diving down and looking about but today I started to feel cold quickly, which may have had something to do with having been out climbing since the early morning and then heading straight down for a swim:

The body was definitely low on energy and added to that my calves were feeling like they may cramp up.  No doubt from all the mornings climbing on slabs at Moses Rocks.  So it was a short dive and I headed back to shore not finding anything as I swam over the sandy bay until I got right up against the beach, where schools of anchovies danced round me in the sand riddled waters.  The cyclones in the north are pushing some weather down our way for the next few days but being ever hopefully I’ve checked the forecast and it looks like next weekend might be good for another dip, so fingers crossed:

In orderly fashion

Keen to get out after a two week break from climbing, Tomski was the only person to bite when I put the word out.  The original plan was to go on Sunday but cyclone Seroja was nearing the northern coast of Western Australia, and despite being close to 800km south of where it will hit this would result in a low pressure system bringing rain to our parts.  As such with the conditions on Sunday looking worse as the week progressed we changed to Saturday.  This did mean I would need to be a bit more mindful of time, as Lisa and I were heading to Rongy’s engagement party later that afternoon:

As such it was a first light start, as if I need an excuse to suggest that!  I gave Tomski a choice of places to go as he is only in the country for probably a month or two longer and I am keen to give him the opportunity to sample the full range of crags and rock types we are lucky enough to have here.  I had in mind either some harder sport climbing at Welly Dam, so he could have a lead, or for Moses Rocks.  Offering the complete opposite of (mostly) trad and generally lower grades (well that wasn’t quite true either).  He plumped for the later and so it was that he drove down towards the carpark in the morning light, shortly after I had arrived:

I had a quick chat with Howsie, to see what lines he reckoned I should take Tomski up.  If he only had one visit here I wanted to make sure he sampled the best stuff, and many of the lines that Howsie suggested aligned with my thinking.  So it was that we headed to Hands-Up Wall to start the day.  Not surprisingly with a 4m swell brewing the Zawn was out of action but that was OK as I really wanted to give Tomski a taste of slab climbing, Moses Rocks style.  We started on Many Hands, a more featured part of the wall so in a way a gentle introduction of what was to come:

Despite the first route being a gentle introduction the rounded nature of the rock and lack of good edges and positive holds, both hands and feet, was immediately obvious to Tomski.  He was really interested in how a place being so close to Wilyabrup could offer such a different rock, it’s true and geologically we are so lucky here to have a lot of variation.  He also remarked on the flared nature of many of the features, resulting in much of my gear looking less than comforting.  At a place like this you really need to know and trust the physics and capability of gear placements, not all the routes are that bad but some certainly are.  It’s part of the reason others don’t climb here but also why I love this place so much, and each time I write a post about it I rave about it:

The other amazing aspect of Moses Rocks that, in my mind, makes it more striking than the main cliffs of Wilyabrup that most climbers head too is the situation.  The closeness of the waves, as shown above, and view both north back to the carpark and beach and south across to Wilyabrup are stunning.  You get to see right down the barrel of the waves as they roll into the bays on either side.   As we walked in Tomski was immediately struck by the situation and was loving it, another person converted!  Added to that with today’s crisp cool morning and light easterlies to keep the spray away we had picked the perfect day to be here:

Next up was Gothic Streak and then what I regard as probably one of the scariest routes here Hands Up.  These two lines are graded the same, which is probably fair for difficulty, but the latter follows by far the most flared and shallow crack Moses Rocks has on offer.  With no other opportunities for gear, Tricams are perfect for this but they really don’t look that secure.  Tomski on second didn’t need to worry about that aspect, which was good as he was having to get used to trusting friction and really working on his footwork.  The first three lines were up the slightly more generously angled slabs, but we were slowing moving rightwards:

This meant approaching the blunt arête of Hands-Up Wall where the next route went, Fat Slags.  It was at this point that I had to explain a few things to Tomski, firstly the names.  You may recall from earlier posts the names of quite a few routes here have been taken from Viz comics.  A classic and at times viewed as an inappropriate British comic from the 1980s (http://viz.co.uk/).  I doubt in this day and age you would get away with such a comic, and no doubt some of the names used for the routes here will be called out over time, as societal tolerances, views and perceptions change:

Fat Slags was the route that would really show Tomski what Moses offered, there are places on this route that there are no hand holds and it is all footwork.  I’m not sure if he believed me when I said this, but when he reached the crux (above) he looked up and said something like “you really did mean there are no holds didn’t you”.  He had to work the crux sequence, but it was a learning experience and one he was eager to make the most of.  My intention had been to skip the next line, and come back to it.  But when I showed him the line Tomski was keen to keep ticking the lines from right to left:

Now before we get to the next line the second thing I had to explain was the strange Australian bolt plate.  This was a new concept to Tomski, and so I explained how they worked which is pretty straight forward.  He also asked the obvious question of why they were used, so he got my view related to cost fully understanding that is not everyone’s view.  But that said seeing the mix of carrots (whether glue or bashed in), hangers and ring bolts on so many crags I reckon my theory has merit.  Either that or the climbing communities care or worry about other possible reasons of visual impact has changed.  Above Tomski has finally reached the better high holds and last bolt plate on Johnny Fartpants:

As we moved from right to left the routes were getting harder starting at grade 14 and for route number five we were at 19.  And it was on Johnny Fartpants, which is close to vertical that I had to explain that on the steeper sections some hand (or should I say fingertip, if you are lucky) holds are not for pulling on.  They are just to balance on.  On several sections on this route they are so small that unless you have built up experience on using them you wouldn’t give them a second glance.  Tomski found this out the hard way and spent a long time figuring out how he was going to get up this route, but he eventually managed it and was still smiling when he did:

Fortunately the next route in line was Wheely Things, what I reckon to be the crag classic.  Unlike all the slabs and shallow flared cracks of the previous routes, this deep crack offered great jamming and loads of gear.  But beware it is guarded by an initial crack that seems to fox many people.  And after the battle he had on the previous route it did perplex a weary Tomski for a while.  After a false start or two he got past that and then got stuck into the rest of the crack line and loved it, as shown by a few picture above and then the smiling happy face in the above image after finishing the route:

I still had oodles of energy and was keen to keep going.  It is not that I didn’t have to focus or work on the routes, I just have them dialled and can dance my way up them.  Although I have to admit I can’t recall when I last climbed or led Johnny Fartpants (sorry just had to get that name in one more time ha ha), so was pleased with how I went on that one.  I think having stepped down to a grade 15 had given Tomski renewed energy, and the next one called Twist Till You Lock I knew would bump things up.  So I did suggest we could bypass this one but he was keen and he will only now hear that it was grade 21.  Something I hope will give him some comfort in why he found it so challenging:

It is not a route I have often led and the final roof feels super tricky, but also super safe with a bolt right at the final moves.  Too tricky for even wearier Tomski when he got to it and I thought he may have been done by then, but no… The next more prominent arête up which Victor and His Boa Constrictor ascends appealed to him.  So off I went one more time, loving the delicate nature of the climbing here.  The bottom moves are steep and make use of more holds not meant to be pulled on, and from the offset Tomski was waning.  It looked like every move was punishing him right up until the final glory jug could be reached.  And even then the following mantle was looking like it was hard work:

Cornish Nasty awaited round the corner, the last of the longer routes on Hands Up Wall.  But Tomski was toast and deservedly so, having worked really hard on several of the stiffer lines here.  I think it is also fair to say he fully enjoyed the morning, location and every route we did so I do hope I can bring him back here before he heads off.  There are other sections of this long drawn out climbing area, with more varied and interesting routes that are so worth exploring.  With a bit of luck we can snag equally great conditions next time.  And if we do make it back, to avoid Tomski burning out mid-session, I might suggest not going at the routes in the such an orderly fashion:

Reset time

In late 2017 I started to build my boulder wall with the help of Craig, and it was Craig and Geoff that then helped me set the 150 odd holds I had bought.  Looking back at the post (https://sandbagged.blog/2019/01/06/finally-my-boulder-wall/) the wall looked shiny and new but also the spread of holds looked very sparse.  I was lucky in to get back in touch with Eric in late 2018, just about when he decided to sell all the holds from his boulder wall and so I could remedy my concerns with an additional 150 plus holds which Geoff, Nana and Craig helped to place:

With the arrival of Easter 2021 and the promise of the “busiest tourist season ever”, I’d already decided that there was no point in using the car even with would four days off.  Instead the idea came to mind that it was time to spring clean the wall.  As such the Wednesday before I opened up the shed for a boulder it was to be the last session on the old look wall.  Friday morning arrived and the task began.  I started early and was later joined by Tomski and Alan, and using tools to avoid manually removing all the holds it was quick work:

I’d already spent several hours at it before the boys had arrived so was more than happy for them to take the tools. This allowed me to sort the holds they took off for easier use later on.  The three of us operated like a well-oiled machine and we had sped along with the job, and were getting more done than I had expected.  By mid-morning the wall was stripped and 300 plus holds were laid out in neat piles ready to be put back up:

It wasn’t all work, work, work although when we were in the shed I was a pretty ruthless task master.  I’m not one to dilly-dally on a job that needs completing, so can become a little driven.  However, today we did have a morning tea break.  Lisa had kindly stopped at the shops the day before and brought Easter goodies to feed the crew that had offered to help me out.  Today however we indulged in Jaime’s amazing sticky date pudding.  The poodles tried but failed in getting a taste, which is probably a good thing:

Then it was back at it, time to reset the wall.  Lisa and I were due to head round to the neighbours for the afternoon so we still had a few hours left to crack on.  The plan was to get all the holds on the roof and then to start setting all the footer holds.  There were previously a few holds on the roof that rarely, if ever, got used and we consciously only put the jugs back up.  We never go too hard on this wall so there was no need to make the roof stupidly hard.  I’ve also got about four sets of holds that are great for footers and we soon had them evenly spread:

We had noticed before how a few of the early routes had become a little trickier after bigger holds had got in the way.  This had resulted in recurring bash elbows and knees, but we never moved them.  So with the advantage of resetting all the holds in one hit we then put back the bigger holds, which allowed us to also set a few routes.  When I posted an image or two of progress Rongy, Craig and Jake were probably getting nervous that there wasn’t much left for them to do the next day.  But their needn’t have worried:

With Alan and Tomski’s help we had done a great job in having the wall ready for the serious route setters to come in and do their thing.  Saturday morning arrived and it was time for the larger sets of holds were to be placed, and this meant that the boys spent a lot more time thinking about which set of foot holds they wanted to use and how they would place the holds.  The sticky boots came out straight away so they could test each move. It was a much slower process but it’s not the sort of thing that can be rushed:

With four of us setting routes it got quiet congested but we managed to work round each other well, the idea was to ensure that there was a range of difficulties.  But every so often a remark would come out that “oh that’s a great move but it’ll be tricky”.  I have to admit that it felt like we wouldn’t get the job done, despite the boys being available to help till mid-afternoon.  The more thoughtful approach required, plus all the chit chat, was slowing things down.  So I applied a little pressure when relevant and kept the tea and snacks flowing to keep them going:

By lunchtime it was done.  The setting of the last few sets of holds became quicker, not due to lack of thinking of how to do it but due to the lack of places to put the holds!  Nearly every t-nut was used up and we even had to drill a few extra holes to put some more up.  There was also some time to try a few of the routes.  It was surprising just how tiring the task had been and I didn’t get back on the wall on Sunday or Monday.  Wednesday evening came and opening up the shed we tried the routes and most of them felt on the hard side.  No stress it is good to have finally reset the wall after three plus years, and we now have some problems to work at:

Up close and personal

With light breezes and a low swell continuing into Sunday, and after seeing the awesome conditions down the coast at Bob’s Hollow, it would have been crazy not to have jumped in the water today.  Geoff had said he had a late night and was not up for a dip, despite me trying to convince him that the cool water would be like a refreshing tonic.  So a little later in the morning than usual it was just Lisa and I parked up at the beach access letting the tyres down.  Gotta love the brass valves to get them down without the fuss of having to check the pressure every time:

Being about ten there was the expected traffic already out, but it didn’t take long for us to find a quiet spot to park up.  There is approx. 7km of beach to drive along and most of it has reef just off the shoreline, so you can always find somewhere quiet.  We’d been to this spot a few times before and the reason for picking it this time was that I liked the idea the shallow ground to look for more nudibranchs, slugs or flatworms.  The one I had found off the river mouth recently (Barren ground) was an Orange Flatworm, and I was keen to find more:

The water felt great and looked pretty clear as I went in.  The lush green Sea Lettuce on the shallow part of the reef swayed about.  Being close to high tide I thought it may be calm, but the shallow depth here compressed the water making it move quicker.  Above me the cormorants didn’t mind me swimming directly under their perch.  Lisa told me later they had stayed put the whole time.  After a quick look round the rocks without success of finding anything fun I moved on.  The ground got deeper and my hopes of finding what I was after started to fade:

I looked for bommies with exposed rocky parts and dived down staring intensely for a flash of colour or that slow graceful movement.  Nothing… until I excitedly saw what looked to be a flatwork and I stayed down as long as my lungs would allow me.  Waiting for any movement but it stayed completed stationary, and is more likely to be some form of sponge.  The detail wasn’t obvious to me in the water, but looking at the image back home, I could make out the small holes through which a sponge would draw and expel water to filter out food:

I scoured the reef and soon decided to end the hunt.  A started to just look about for anything else, and while the visibility was great and swell was indeed low it was eerily quiet.  The occasional usual fish would poke it’s head out from the weed and watch me carefully as I swam about and only the ever present Banded Sweep seemed to be out in the open.  The only shoals I saw compromised a small group of young Buff Bream and smaller fish such as Gobbleguts, Western Pomfret and Anchovy:

I went down to check selves and caves, and went through a few swim throughs but they too mostly seemed devoid of any visible life.  I did come across quite a few rock lobsters, and thought Geoff would have had fun trying to catch them only to then find out they were undersized and have to release them.  Not a single sea star, ray, squid, cuttlefish or octopus was about.  I started to feel I was taking all that I had previously seen before a little for granted, after all I have to date been incredibly lucky with what I have discovered and there won’t always be something new to see:

I came across a group of three beautiful Spiny-tail Leatherjacket and followed them about for a bit, each time diving down at a distance attempting to sneak up and get a good image.  Before I got too close they would casually turn their tail on me and head off to the next hiding hole.  I would wait for them to remerge and so the pattern repeated, until I gave up.  As I flowed the leatherjackets a few Old Wife seemed to hang about, not too concerned about being paid some attention.  So I managed to get a lovely consolation prize image:

Heading back I decided to look round the shallow rocks one more time.  Again I didn’t find what I was after but did come across a few Threefin, too fast for me, and a small group of Cleaner Shrimps.  It was good fun watching them and at times let go of the rock and swam to another part, having such control despite the moving water.  Rongy has suggested they may be Boxer Shrimps, so called due to what looks like red gloves just below their pincers.  I’ve not however managed to identify them using google, so will have to resort to QuestaGame once more to see if they agree:

It was finally time to head back to shore, Lisa hadn’t felt like coming in and I found her reading her kindle chilling out.  I hung all the gear up on the car and supped on a hot cuppa, feeling it warm me from the inside.  Looking out at the amazing aqua blue colour of the water I spotted the familiar dark shape of a ray, which turned out to be a Short-tailed Stingray.  I pulled my mask on and walked out towards the shape before putting my head under the water, as expected it started to move away.  I didn’t chase it and it started to come back directly towards me, and I’ll leave you to watch the video as it then started to scour the rocks for food:

It was an amazing sight, the ray was quite literally inches away from me, as it went about looking for food.  Eventually turning round and heading back out, there was no need to follow it after such a close encounter I was more than happy.  This time when I got out I stayed out, and after warming myself back up we packed the car.  On the drive back we kept looking, in awe, at the colour of the water.  Next weekend, like my thoughts about hitting the crags for a climb we may stay away or just have early morning stints at the beach we can walk too, as this part of the beach will no doubt be overrun with tourists in their shiny 4WDs:

The cavemen

Dan finally made it over from Melbourne to visit his family, and as is the usual custom we took the opportunity to organise a day out on rock.  This time Jo stayed in Melbourne busy with work.  His trip to the west has been an on again, off again situation for the obvious reasons and as such it was not until we knew he was able to travel that we discussed our plans.  In view of his only annual opportunity to climb here I allowed him the choice of crags.  I was a little was surprised to find out that he had never climbed at Bobs Hollow, which was where we decided on:

Not catching up to climb with Dan too often, we are lucky if it is once a year, I decided not to put the trip out there on the wider group.  Although I was conscious that Howsie would be keen for a trip here, to continue on his 2021 challenge.  So he and Mikey were set to join us, but after a rough week at work Howsie had to bail.  Mikey was still keen so we were going to head out with three, which isn’t a bad thing at this steep pumpy crag.  With three it allows a bit more of a rest between climbs.  As it was Tomski was also seeking a trip out and at the nth hour he became part of the crew making it four again:

Mikey, Dan and I met in Capel at 4, an early start for a few reasons.  This place is a bit further away and has a 40min walk in; when the sun hits it at around 11 the climbing becomes uncomfortable for most; and lastly and probably the key driving factor being to avoid the crowds.  With no international travel, the folk that would normally head to Thailand have been using this place.  The popularity of the steep sport climbing cliff has shot up and I’ve seen as many as 40 plus people here, and for a crag with less than that many climbs it can feel too busy:

On the drive down Mikey and Dan made their introductions, the last time they had met was probably at the PCYC a decade or more back.  Both are mentioned in my write ups about the main people I have climbed with in the South West, and now seems a good opportunity to share a link to my post about those people: https://sandbagged.blog/2020/04/21/south-west-climbers/.  Tomski was parked up at the head of the walk track when we arrived and in the cool morning, with just enough light to see the track, we hiked in.  The sky was cloudy and a very slight drizzle fell on us for a brief moment as we approached, but was soon over never to return:

We arrived to an empty crag, but the signs of people to come were there, a few routes were equipped.  Draws hung from the bolts of two lines, but at 22 and 25 these were not lines we aimed to start on or possible even consider.  During our discussion Dan had hinted 22 was the top grade for the day and based on this I had given him a list of routes I felt were worthy, eight all up.  He wandered along the crag taking it all in, after all Bob’s is a mighty and impressive place.  Meanwhile Mikey got straight down to business and jumped on Thyeses Feast.  He had been keen to try it, driven by brotherly competitiveness as Howsie (yes his brother) had mentally struggled on the finishing moves during his 2020 challenge.  And never got a clean ascent:

Dan was a bit slower starting, and didn’t leave the deck until Mikey was on the way back down after a successful ascent, and of course I simply had to take a video of this for Howsie (see below).  After checking out the crag Dan hadn’t picked any lines to have a go at so I directed him towards Right Fin, the first route on the replanned list I had made.  He took a steady pace up the initial easy corner getting used to the rock and after the first steep bugle he sat in a big cave.  Taking in the view and allowing his arms to recover before the final push, which didn’t present him any trouble:

Tomski followed Mikey and a bit like last week at Wilyabrup, while not a completely new rock for him it would be a new experience.  He had been here before but we were hitting some harder and steeper lines than he had previously attempted.  As we are coming to know, he is not one to give up and so he again proved in bucketful’s today.  The intention was for him to second up the first route, but Mikey accidently pulled the rope.  So it was Tomski headed up on lead.  My intention was not to lead anything today allowing Dan all the glory and being happy to relax with a rope above me, but the temptation got the better of me:

So after I also lead and then cleaned Right Fin, Dan and I hit Constructive Vandalism.  While Tomski battled onwards.  He made it to the final steep wall in good style, but the overhung, powerful and pumpy final section wore him down after repeated attempts.  Before Dan or I could offer to clean the line Mikey was heading back up, and got a clean lead again.  It could have been to rub Howsie’s nose in it even more, but Mikey claims he wanted to try the left hand finish.  It’s the way I climb it, and he too found it a more secure way to finish the route:

The place was still empty but as Mikey headed up Right Fin the first person arrived.  He said he was with a crew of six, and it took a while before they all arrived.  Stuart the first guy to arrive obviously speed marched the walk track, leaving his mates for dust.  Mikey polished off his route and Dan climbed Dependence Day, again making use of a big cave to kick back and take in the view of the ocean.  And only then did the second person from that party arrived.  Julian recognised me and had to enlighten me as to where we had met.  He had once come along to my wall with Ash and smashed every problem I pointed him towards:

My memory of Dependence Day was that it was hard, sustained and had a powerful finish.  I pondered my options and this time I accepted a top rope, and only afterward questioned if I should have led it.  It, or was it me, climbed really well and the route wasn’t half as hard as my memory had led me to believe.  I too took refuge in the big cave, and man that view is good.  The holds today felt good.  Some are starting to get slippy not from moisture but wear and all the chalk that people use.  Too many people climb with way too much chalk and coat the rock, filling in any pores resulting in any friction being lost:

Today both Dan and I rarely used chalk, and there were only a handful of times did we dip into the bag and even then sparingly.  The conditions were that good today, dry but also cool.  As I was preparing to rap back down Tomski was this time climbing with the rope above him, so I hung on the rope for a while and watched.  Also Stuart was being belayed by Julian up Magnus the Robot Fighter.  This route was on the list I had put together for Dan and is the same grade as Dependence Day, jumping on it cold is a tall order.  One Kym had set me many years back when I had failed at the anchors, and today Stuart failed to get to the anchors despite being tantalisingly close:

This did make me wonder about the route and whether I was up for it.  I’ve climbed it once since with Rongy and again it had me beat, the sustained pumpy nature wore me down even quicker that time.  Before heading back down I watched Tomski battling the bulge offering some advice and encouragement.  He had again managed the lower wall, but was really struggling with this steeper more overhung stuff.  It comes down to technique and confidence, but when your arms are beat both are hard to muster up.   And try, try and try as he did the battle against the bulge was over:

As more people turned up we got into tickety tick mode, as Kym would say.  I cleaned Right Fin to allow Mikey to save some strength for other routes.  That wasn’t however until after Dan, after watching Julian attempting Hollow Promises, decided to have a go.  At a lofty grade 25 it was ambitious.  He set off confidently, making it to the crux sequence and looked calm and relaxed.  From there it looked like a series of sharp fingery holds came next, and they all had to be gained dynamically.  After one attempt he declared he would come down, but I rallied the crowd and they all agreed he should try again.  It  looked promising but it was too tough and this time I lowered him back down, and he was rightfully happy with where he got to:

They then attempted to encourage me to have a bash. I was however contemplating my nemesis and decided to go for it Carmen, one of the crew of six and had just climbed it. And watching her more focused and fluid approach to the climb made me think that I would be OK on it. She almost faltered at the crux but we all encouraged her to keep going, which she did. Coming back down after the successful ascent Carmen questioned whether it was a real clean lead, as she had sat in a big cave that is on route. We all agreed that it still counted, after all Dan had used the same approach twice today and there was no hint from any of us that he had “cheated”:

I’m pleased to say that I managed Magnus the Robot Fighter without too much worry, even the final holds felt good.  But I did take a moment in that cave too, to look out and enjoy a view that I will never tire of seeing and prepare for the next stage.  Sadly I forgot to carry my camera up so there is no image of what I was lucky to see from there.  After that Mikey hit Constructive Vandalism and was super happy when he got that one clean too, he was on a roll and climbing well.  Tomski also got up this route… eventually.  This one is steep most of the way but he was determined not to give up and must have been shattered when he finally got there:

Dan and I successfully attacked Black Lung, and as we continued to hit routes more and more groups were turning up.  Nearly all were walking past us to the southern end, which was now being hit by the sun.  Dan munched on some food but I had ants in my pants and felt like I had to keep moving or throw in the towel for the day, so I ran up and self-cleaned Puk Puk Sen.  Meanwhile Julian successfully got up Hollow Promise, on his second attempt of the day.  While it was a clean lead he still had a bit of a hissy fit, because he hadn’t been able to clip both anchors.  This became the next topic for debate and we agreed it still counted and told him to stop whinging.  Mikey was pleased with that as he did the same thing just minutes later, as he got up Black Lung:

Sport climbing and the ethics therein are a fickle topic, and it was fun having those debates. Before Mikey had climbed Constructive Vandalism, I had badgered him about pink pointing the route when there was a hint the guys already on it would leave the draws in for him.  I didn’t mentioned, and no one noticed that this was how I led Magnus the Robot Fighter.  It’s all about fun at the end of the day, and a bit of heckling is a good thing.  Tomski decided not to climb Black Lung, so I cleaned that one before we trouped down to the southern end, hoping that the twenty odd people down there were not occupying all of the lines.  We were lucky and they were mostly split into two groups, each huddled round one line each:

Dan was drawn towards one of the crag classics, Shaved Cat, while Mikey plumped for the fun Juggernaut.  We had to wait for a couple to finish on our route before we started, and it was in full sun as we approached midday.  It certainly felt warm and there was a sting to the sun, but that didn’t stop Dan.  He was however happy to call it the last climb, as his forearms started to cramp on this route.  I was more than happy to have a rope above me on this one, and even more so when a line of Processionary Caterpillars (like the ones I included in my post Battling the Elements: https://sandbagged.blog/2021/03/10/battling-the-elements/) were marching up the side of the flake where all of the holds were.  It’s best not to touch these as their hairs will penetrate your skin and it can be very irritating:

Mikey was going fine making good use of all the caves on his route, then as he had to exit the relative comfort of them and climb the open face three things happened.  The sun hit him, he kinda went off route and then his arms flaked.  Taking his first fall of the day, just as he reached the next bolt.  He’d runout of draws on the side he wanted to get one from, struggling to reach the ones on the other side he didn’t managing too before his arms gave way.  He got it on the next attempt and polished off the route, I feel like he too was toast and ready to call it a day.  While Tomski was heading up for the last lap of the day, Dan had scooted to what we had seen from all those caves we had sat in today:

I joined him and it felt wonderful to fully immerse into the cool, crystal clear waters.  The ocean was flat today, Mikey and I both felt it would have been the perfect day to have brought the snorkel gear.  But time was not on our side and after this route we knew we had to make tracks.  As Tomski battled his way up, Dan and I kicked back in the cool waters watching.  Waiting until he neared to end before we got out and made our way back up, all refreshed and feeling cool.  We packed the gear and said our goodbyes leaving some 30 plus people to carry on climbing, as the sun started to creep round soon to dispel any lingering shade:

It was a hot walk out.  There was hardly a breeze in the air and the heat seemed to get trapped on the track especially when it was carved through the higher vegetation.  To the west that view we had seen from the caves was constantly there, only disappearing when the vegetation went above head height.  Before the last stretch we stood there for a while taking in the stunning colours.  Below a long perfectly white sandy beach stretched out with maybe ten people on it.  It was amazing that the place wasn’t overrun, and my guess is that many people are waiting for next weekend and then they will be down in droves:

Not only will it be the long Easter weekend but also the start of the school holidays.  About ten cars were at the head of the walk track from where the climber walk in and I dread to think how many may be parked here next weekend.  So much so that I am unlikely to head out and instead have other plans.  Today had however been a storming trip, everyone had worked hard and really enjoyed themselves.  In perfect conditions we clocked up seventeen leads between us, which is pretty impressive for Bobs.  Dan and I made plans as we drove back, and hopefully this time next year I’ll be able to pop over and visit Dan and Jo so they can take me round some east coast crags:

One too many

It felt like it had been forever since I had climbed at Wilyabrup, but looking back it has only been a mere two months.  On that trip we climbed with three.  Ash, having his first bash at trad leading, and Jaime happy to second up nearly anything.  Today I headed back with Tomski and Jaime, and as we approached the morning was looking glorious.  Ash was considering tagging along, but after a few days of outdoor adventure he said he had housework to do, while his mates who we met down there indicated he was a little cooked from all the other adventures.  Despite only arriving half an hour after light had crept in, it was already bright and after just leading up one climb also hot and sticky:

I had already mapped out a bit of a plan of attack for today, and we started as I had planned.  The Unbolted and the Beautiful, which I originally graded 15, once again proved to be a tough opposition.  Jaime came second and the crux, which some say is worthy of 17, had her beat.  There is fortunately an escape past this up the route to the right, but after that there is no getting away from the relentless headwall.  Great holds but no rests.  Tomski also struggled, probably rushing in a bit, like a kid in a candy store.  Chomping at the bit he came up, and a couple of times he just did not seem to stop and think things through:

I had thought Tomski would cruise it, as he’d just spent two week climbing in Tasmania.  But where he was climbing for those two weeks the rock had superb friction and it was cold, relatively speaking.  Here the hard Gneiss does not soak up any moisture and today was humid, making the many smeary holds feel like soap.  Layered on top of that Tomski really hasn’t climbed a huge amount, so jumping on a rock that demanded a different approach and style had thrown him.  Climbing is so hugely variable depending on the rock, conditions and your state of mind, which to me is a big part of the appeal of trying different places when I can:

My original intention was to bump it up for the second route and hit One for the Road.  While they both enjoyed the challenge of the first route, based on how they had gone there seemed to be some sense in dialling it back.  So we ambled up Glory at a relaxed grade 13.  As I belayed up top in full sun sweat was dripping off me and the mossies buzzed all around.  It was weird to have not even completed two routes before it felt hot.   So much so I wouldn’t have been surprised if we wrapped up early today.  Jaime was stoked as she followed up, getting over the small rooflet clean first attempt.  Previously when we climbed it, that section had given her grief:

Tomski was still adjusting the more open hand rounded holds, the routes he’d been on in Tasmania were sport routes with more in cut  positive holds.  The use of open hand holds makes use of a different set of muscles and that was not only foxing him but also making his arms pump out quickly.  After veering off my planned itinerary for the second route we came back on track for number three.  There are two fabulous 18s on the upper part of Steel Wall, with a great ledge to set up camp on.  So we rapped down and it felt like bliss, both the shade and a slight cooling breeze made it so much more comfortable:

I took the first lead up the trad 18, a great route that is technically never very hard but requires focus, as you run it out between gear placements.  Not all of which inspire confidence, and the hot sweaty conditions made the lead a bit more nervous than usual.  I took my time and carefully made my way up.  In the background I could hear Jaime and Tomski questioning whether they would be able to follow me, and I feel that my much slower and cautious pace was making them  think it looked too hard.  Both however managed a clean second, and while they may have had a few tentative moments on the smaller holds they both came up with big smiles:

The other 18 is fully bolted, and I had in mind for Tomski to have a bash at leading it.  So we rapped back down to our lofty perch and he got himself psyched up for the lead.  I wasn’t too sure how he would go, but the way he climbed the last 18 gave me more confidence.  He was slowing down and being more thoughtful, and also using his feet better.  Also on this wall the holds tend to be more in cut and crimpy holds.  A style that he was more used to.  Before we rapped down he was hinting that he was happy to try because of the clean falls, and that he probably wouldn’t get it clean:

We needn’t have worried, as is usually the case when you lead your mind kicks into gear.  The consequences of making a mistake are far more real and you become more focused on the task that lays ahead.  This showed, Tomski made more deliberate but not rushed movements.  Checking holds and making sure he worked his feet well, not over extending and never slapping for any holds.  It was great to watch, and he looked like a completely different climber to the Tomski we had seen on the first climb of the day.  Not only was it a great lead but it was also his first time at belaying from the top of a route:

While whether you belay from the bottom or top may seem like a small thing, it does change how you go about it.  The way you catch a fall changes and to make it comfortable your belay setup also changes.  Both Jaime and Tomski throughout the day were eager to observe, ask and discuss all the elements of climbing, looking at what they could do to improve their climbing.  It is as simple as how you place your feet to allow rotation in your knees and hips, not over extending yourself to avoid getting stuck in a position that is near impossible to get out of and as the day had worn on the climbing styles had improved:

It had felt like we had been moving well on rock today despite climbing with three, and we were now four routes in.  But when we checked the time five hours had slipped past, midday was closing in on us and the sun was creeping round.  Soon to bathe every wall.  We were back on the deck, and without the elevated position to maximise the slight breeze you could feel the heat again.  While time had caught up with us, the heat was rising and the sun was soon to be on us we all felt good after the last couple of routes and so decided on just one more.  My plan was only to hit the four routes, so we walked along to pick a line and decided on the wall with the most shade:

This also happened to be occupied by several other groups and as I set off up Inner Space, without warning, a rope came down from above.  We made a few terse comments about the stupidity of not checking below before throwing the rope down and the guilty party eventually and sheepishly came over and apologised.  I carried on up regardless, the holds felt slippy and I wondered how the other two might go.  Jaime managed to get most of the way up before she was toast and Tomski not quite as far before he was slipping off the slimy holds.  The decision was made pretty quickly after that, time to pack up and sweat our way back to the car.  We agreed that next time we would hit Innerspace first up, with fresh arms and hopefully cooler conditions:

More reading material

Driving home from work on Tuesday it felt warm and the leaves on the trees weren’t showing any signs of movement.  So before pulling into our driveway I did a quick loop up over the hill to see what the water was looking like.  Flat and clear, so it seemed, so I got home kitted up and walked back down for a swim.  It wasn’t the best visibility but I was pleased to head in, it was a great way to wash the hectic day away.  It was also good timing as I came across heaps of chains of what appeared to be small jellyfish, ones I have not seen before:

They were everywhere, some were single, while some were in long chains.  For some they seemed fully formed with distinct bodies but others were clear, and this variability even existed within the same chains.  Each had a small dark spot, and I have just discovered that these are not jellyfish but salp or salpa.  The dark spot is their digestive system and they swim by pumping water through their main body, something I could see happening.  I’ve read that they come out when there is a phytoplankton bloom, which is what they feed on:

These creatures are part of the tunicates group, and if my research can be believed they are considered one of the most evolved marine invertebrates.  I didn’t see anything else worth reporting on but was none-the-less pleased to have gone out.  It certainly helped break up the working week.  I didn’t go in again during the week although it was temping on Friday when it was even hotter and there was very little breeze.  However, Friday is our traditional crash night with fish and chips, so I left the dive for the morning:

The conditions looked favourable, not a huge swell and light winds.  The surface looked reasonable and the near shore water wasn’t too bad but as I went in it turned into a bit of a pea-soup.  I’d enjoyed the bommies near the river mouth so much that I had gone back to the same spot, hoping to find more sea slugs.  Just finding the bommies in-between the sand patches proved challenging but I found them and went down trying hunting for sea slugs.  I had no chance, the swell was pushing the weed and me about and I reckon these little creatures would be tucked away somewhere safe:

I came across various fish as I pottered about, nothing new or exciting but it was again good just to have my head under water.  I was a little surprised to also come across a patch of squid eggs, I seem to have found them throughout the snorkelling season this time.  I wonder if they have a set season or month in which they normally lay their eggs, or whether like many have found the weird changing conditions this year are throwing the sea life out of whack.  As I watched these eggs I could see the baby squid inside, but the light and swell wouldn’t allow me to get an image to captured that:

Despite the conditions I stayed out, the water was warm and occasionally I’d find something fun.  Schools of anchovies and herring swam past and were quickly lost in the murkiness, there was no point is chasing any of the fish today.  I didn’t give up on finding a sea slug and while I never did, I came across this small feather worm filter feeder.  The span of the filters is probably only a couple of centimetres.  I took a couple of quick snaps but then the weed covered it and when I went back down I sadly couldn’t find it again:

Heading back toward the carpark, which involved a couple of hundred meter swim along the coast, I continued to spot fish before they darted out of sight.  I simply had to include this image of a male Shaw Cowfish.  Unlike the one I saw during a recent dive, which was on its last legs, this one was healthy and full of colour.  It was also not too keen on me being about and headed off at speed.  As I drove home I popped in to see Geoff, and discovered that Nana had bought a few books to help identify her finds.  So I can now say that the lattice looking plant I had in my last post is a Hydroclathrus which is an algae, I might need to borrow these books again:

Barren ground

Midweek, on arrival home from the climbing trip down south it was unusually humid.  Cloud hung in the sky each day and it felt sticky.  It seems that our summer and now autumn will continue to be a bit out of character.  Humidity is the type of weather that I struggle with, making me feel weary but on the plus side there wasn’t a lot of wind and the ocean was reasonably calm.  I was relieved and happy when Saturday arrived with a clear blue sky, the air was once more crisp and felt dry and it was time to don the wetsuit and head out:

In contrast to a couple of weeks back when autumn arrived, today was picture perfect.  Not a ripple on the crystal clear water.  There were hardly any people about despite the fact that I had headed out for a slightly later dip at nine o’clock, and also not one stinger in sight.  A positive of the weird weather being that it has kept these pesky creatures mostly at bay.  Today was election day in Western Australia, which may have accounted for the absence of people but due to the changing way of life over a third of Western Australians had already voted before the big day:

The conditions were amazing, so calm and clear.  I had been offered to join a trip to Wilyabrup for a climb both Saturday and then again Sunday, but seeing I had the week off I had hit Welly Dam pretty hard on Friday and so opted to have a more relaxing swim with the fish.  You may wonder why a climbing session had passed and I hadn’t written it up.  Well I’d gone solo with my top-rope gear and so I decided for the first time since I started this blog not to write a session up:

It was probably the right choice to not climb again and the water felt lush, as I slowly bobbed about looking down.  It seemed reasonably quiet underneath but I felt content with just lying there not expecting to see too much today.  The little green fish in the second image is one that I’ll one day hopefully get a good image of and identify, I’ve only seen it a few times and again today it was in a hurry to get away.  While the stinging jelly fish were not about, there were a bunch of Comb Jelly Fish and the best way to get an image of them is with the light behind them as above:

Being so calm the weed was almost stationary, creating a feeling of stillness in the water.  Something I haven’t felt much of this season.  I also came across a few other coverings on the sea bed today that I hadn’t to date paid any attention too.  The above looks like a lattice and I’m not sure if it is a type of soft coral or it may even be an algae, something I’m having checked out.  Small huddles of fish were about, but I left them alone most of the time unless there was something a little different that I noticed:

The Comb Jelly Fish come in a variety of shapes and today I found three or four variations.  It is also possible some were the same but just at different stages of life, as they were sized from one to twenty centimetres.  This was a small one at just over a couple of centimetres, and it looked to have brown coloured combs.  These small filaments are called cilia and they run along the more defined lines or edges of the creature.  The scientific name for these creatures is ctenophore and they can grow up to one and half meters making them the largest animal to make use of cilia to swim:

While I didn’t actively chase a lot of fish today I did head down to check out the caves, I’m pretty familiar with the ground off my local beach now and a few of these areas are inhabited by the same creatures so I know beforehand what I will see.  That is not to say I might come across an unexpected find, I came across an amazing and large Triggerfish under one ledge but that was in no mood to be seen and disappeared deeper into the maze that the limestone bommies create:

Above however the McCulloch’s Scalyfin that I regularly find in this tunnel was more than happy for me to say hello.  It didn’t make any move to get away and even did a few pirouettes for me allowing for some lovely images.  I particularly liked the one above, as I don’t often get images in which the scales are so clearly defined.  Even the patterning on the fins and tail stand out really well.  Moving on and in a recent post I included an image of three hard corals, all the same species but each one a different colour (https://sandbagged.blog/2021/02/14/deja-vu/):

I should have already known this coral, as I have in the past identified it.  While the name escaped me as I typed, Nana and Rongy were quick to get back to me and tell me what it was.  It was a hard encrusting coral called plesiastrea versipora, and today I came across a green variety so took a  close up of the little polyps, as I had said I would in that previous post.  These polyps are related to sea anemone and jellyfish and can live individually, using the hard base that created the coral as a protective home:

Polyps create energy by using the sunlight to make sugar, creating most of the nourishment they need.  The tentacles can however be stinging and as such can also be used to catch zooplankton as an additional food source.  Sea anemone like the one above are very much individual creatures, they find a home attached to anything from a rock, the sand or even on a shell.  It is not uncommon for them to have symbiotic relationships with other creatures.  I also came across another colony of zoantharia, which may be the same type as I found a few weeks back (https://sandbagged.blog/2021/03/01/autumn-arrives/):

The colouration and patterning certainly make it look that way, but these had much longer bodies and they seemed to have more structure to them.  Standing more upright, instead of flopping over each other.  Looking into these a bit more it is possible that these are Finger zoanthid (zoanthus praelongus).  The opening on these seemed wider but that may also be due to the conditions, the last ones only had a few open when I found them, whereas for this colony they were all open.  They also looked to be tubular in nature, making me wonder if they draw water through them, sadly again I have struggled to find any information out about them:

As I headed back in I did my usual detour over the sand but there wasn’t a lot to see.  I had bumped into the neighbours, Esky and Cath, on the way down and they had been fishing.  Schools of herring were abundant, dolphins had been cruising past and rays were swimming in the shallows, all no doubt in part attracted by the burley that is thrown in the water to bring the fish in closer.  I didn’t see any of these animals on my dive, but did stop to check out another coral or maybe algae that looked particular pretty in the light.  One more to have checked out:

On the final leg to shore I came across a battle weary or simply aging male Shaw Cowfish.  It was in the shallows right off the beach and didn’t have the will or energy to get away from me.  It was also not fussed about being on the sea bed where I would normally find these usually majestic looking fish as they search for food.  This one was near the surface looking disorientated and ready to throw the towel in on life.  I was still warm inside but my fingers were tingling telling me it was time to get out, so I left this sad looking fish in peace and headed home:

The conditions held out all day so a bit later in I went back in this time with Esky, who came armed with all his catch gear… just in case.  Normally I would walk down the beach a way and head in from a set point, there is some really good ground and I’ve seen heaps here over the years.  It is because I head in at the same location, most times, that I am so familiar with the ground round there.  On this trip Esky was up for swimming straight out as soon as we got on the beach, it was flat and for the most part and barren with the floor littered with broken limestone:

We went in much deeper water than I would normally go, maybe six meters or a bit more. The deeper depths make it more tiring to duck dive down, not that I saw much that was worth investigating. I have made a mental note to myself to start training to be able to hold my breath for longer, in preparedness for next season. I hear a lot of it revolves around training the brain, and I’ll see how I go. The only find of note from all the barren ground we covered, and we covered a lot, was this leatherjacket. From QuestaGame the first suggestion that has come through is a Sixspine Leatherjacket and second is a Rough Leatherjacket, and the latter looks more likely:

As we had first gone out we did come across a large fish, maybe 80cm long or possibly a bit longer. Large scales across it’s long heavy body, mostly dark grey with lighter bands visible when the light was right. The head, tail and fins, especially the fanned out pectoral fin, were all quite distinct which is why I am surprised at how my I have struggle to figure it out. I plumped for a juvenile Samson Fish but Geoff and Nana have suggested it’s more likely to be a Dusky Morwong. While in the deeper water the image I got of this fish wasn’t great I was lucky to come across it a second time:

After we had swum out some 100m we tracked along the coast well beyond my normal spot and then come back in to shore further down the beach.  The whole time it was barren and pretty well lifeless.  So instead of coming out of the water like Esky did I headed for my usually spot which is where I found the Samson Fish was lurking in shallower water.  I also found a few rays and other fish, including this very pretty Silver Yellowbelly.  I was a bit slow on the camera with this one.  Intent on watching a fish I haven’t seen very often, until it started to swim away:

Sunday came and I couldn’t resist a quick dip.  And after being a little disappointed of the barren ground I headed somewhere different.  Going straight out from the river mouth there are a load of bommies with sandy patches in-between.  Some of the bommies are small and quite bare of weed but others are huge with lots of weed and little caverns.  To get there I walked along the beach from the cark park at the far eastern end of Peppy Beach.  I was hoping to find some nudibranchs or sea slugs here and almost immediately found one.  It was only a few centimetres long but moved surprisingly quickly, so I only managed a couple of average images:

I believe this was a sea slug, as oppose to a nudibranch as it didn’t have any visible external gills.  Two black antenna can just be made out on the right hand end, and you would think with obvious white patches and orange lining round the outer edge I could figure out what sort it is, but alas not.  Soon this fella was out of sight and I moved on from bommie to bommie but didn’t find anymore.  There were however lots of Western Pomfret, I recall previous dives here when I was surrounded by them and it felt like that today.  There were also lots of good sized shoals of Gobbleguts, Sweeps and numerous other fish:

While there were several nooks and crannies to check out, this tunnel was by far the most interesting with lots of small orange bullseye floating about.  I tried my best to stay down and get some improved images of some of the larger fish but struggled.  The two that stuck in my mind were a solitary big twenty centimetre long bullseye and a beautiful green wrasse, and the latter can be seen in towards the back of the tunnel in the image below.  After repeated attempts I gave up, unlike yesterday there was a bit more of a swell pushing me about despite the forecast indicating it should have been the same as yesterday:

Maybe it was because of the more open bay or the stronger easterlies cutting across the bay, but regardless of it feeling that way the visibility was still amazing.  I was however starting to get cold and tired, so began the long swim back towards the access track onto the beach spotting heaps along the way.  Of all my other finds the last image I’ll include is of this Black Throated Threefin, I saw several of these but this one unlike the others seemed happy for me to intrude on its personal space.  Being only five centimetres long I had to get pretty close and was surprised that it didn’t dart away.  I might have to come back here again soon: