Geraldton is a big country town, about 40,000 people. We filled up on supplies, water and fuel and headed to Coronation Beach for about a week. We’ve been to plenty of spots where we could have stayed longer but the budget is a frayed shoestring and we have to hit it to Perth. Besides we’re kind of looking forward to an actual bed, one where Jacobs legs can fit the whole length. We have a house sitting gig for a month south of Fremantle in a place with 5 ducks, an aquaponic vegie garden and an elderly incontinent dog with terrets. It’s a perfect patch to kick up our cracked heels and call home. The walls of the van are gripping vice tight and the sides of sleep need to stretch.
We’ve had a lot of time to think and plan and change our minds again. We’re at a beach that is a windsurfers mecca, though I didn’t realise the sport carried over from the 80’s but people from all over the world seem to love it. They lug big boards and poles and plastic sheets and cargo to fly out onto the sea and back again, turning around and doing this over and over and over for hours a day, 6 weeks of the year if the wind allows.
We met Sue an artist, who doesn’t windsurf, who paints better than photos. She’s been doing it for around 20 years and can paint a pelican on a canvas smaller than a silk purse. She paints boab nuts, and underwater worlds and she painted a scene of the three of us walking in Bush bay on a turtle shell Jacob found there. Her husband was a painter too, the house plastering and decorating kind but he got lead poisoning and now all his cells are dying. He has no mind for numbers or problems or things that worry, he’s just happy to sit back, drinking dandelion tea and watch pinecone shingleback lizards eat bush berries in the thickets. Simple pleasures.