Story and images
Copyright © 2003 Garry Searle
Page 4
The jetty is on the northern end of the island. A small bay with crystal clear turquoise water. It reaches into the bay from the middle of the tall sandstone cliff, parts of which lay fallen on the white sandy beach. From the end of the jetty a wire rope, part of the original flying-fox, reaches up over the top of the cliff and out of sight. It's path followed up the cliff by a big cutting. 60 men were employed to hang on slings and dig the v out of the soft rock. At night they slept on the beach. The story goes that an industrial dispute arose after some of the men were accused of not pulling their weight. One night a rock landed on the foreman's tent and killed him. Coincidence?
As the 100 year old jetty can no longer take the forces of a boat, we let Dave off and he climbed the ladder. A small rowboat with a winch assembly remains on the end of the jetty. After
retrieving the oars from the small boatshed at the land end of the jetty, Dave winched the boat down onto the water while we drifted 30 foot away waiting for him. Several trips
ferried ourselves and all the supplies, between the charter boat and the jetty. Everything you want on the island, food, drink, linen, clothes all need to be taken over. On our return all the rubbish is taken off also. For 6 people all these supplies mounts up, and it took some time before we were all on the jetty and waved goodbye to Mark. "See you next
Friday, unless we talk on the phone beforehand". We were now effectively stranded on the island until his return in a weeks time. |
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