This week I was lucky enough to have a little holiday from work – and from the world, it seemed.  I headed to Rottnest Island (which in the local Noongyar language is called Wadjemup), and spent two days snorkelling, riding a bike and relaxing.  I especially wanted to snorkel at a place called Parker Point, on the other side of the island, and hired a bike specially. Last year I cheated and caught the tourist bus.

I got up super early and was the first one in the water. It was so worth it!  I’ve tried to write about it, although the poem is still a draft. And, if you have time, I have cobbled together a video from my gopro footage.  If I had more time I would have edited it better, but hopefully you’ll get a sense of the magic.

 

Wadjemup, Tuesday Morning

Six a.m

and holidaymakers

sleep still

in cottages

languidly enjoying

their break from reality.

But I

am far from my cottage

urging my bike

up hills much steeper than they appeared

from the windows of

the air conditioned bus.

At Parker Point

I stop

feeling sheepish

chaining the bike

when there’s no one else in sight

descend the stairs

and prepare

snorkels

flippers

rashie.

At the edge of the water

I pause

wondering at my sanity

to be here alone

so early.

Too late now

I commit

lunging forward inelegantly

over seagrass

darkly stirring

just inches from my face.

Within metres

I spot my first fish

and I feel myself

surrender

to the lure of the water

and its myriad treasures.

Later

as I float

in a school of silver

that seems to never end

I wonder, briefly,

if those cottage beds

are working the same magic

on those who’ve stayed abed.

(Poem Copyright Sally Murphy,2021)

 

Ruth is hosting the Poetry Friday Roundup. If you drop by there, you might be brave enough to add a fact for the group poem.