A day out at… ‘6 mile’ beach

March 1st, 2007

After coming off the most horrendous set of night shifts I’ve ever had to endure in my career as a paramedic, I slept like the dead for the whole day! I literally survived on 4 hours sleep in 48 hours over the weekend. Not that I had to work the 48 hours straight (although I have done that before) but I did work two 14 - 15 hour night shifts with my head barely touching the pillow. I was sooo over tired between the night shifts that my mind stirred during my attempted sleep the minute I heard the slightest bump, car horn, or dog bark.

When I did awake from my post-duty slumber, ‘Hubby’ and I spontaneously decided to head out for a walk on one of the local ‘beaches’. We bustled the dogs in the car (okay, they needed NO encouragement!), threw in some camping seats and a fold-up table, packed a hamper with a bottle of chilled wine, some chilli cheddar cheese from the famous Margaret region of the south west and some gluten free crackers.

“Let’s go!” ‘Hubby’ called after tooting the car horn.

I bumbled my way through the front door, dropping the house key as I tried to secure the screen door. “God, I’m tired!” I moaned as I heaved myself up into the landcruiser.

‘Hubby supportively said, “Yes. And so you should be. So don’t fight it.” He looked me in the eyes, gave my thigh a gentle rub and said, “I’ll take care of everything. You just breathe, walk, relax and enjoy” I laid my head back on the car seat and settled in for the 20 minute ride out to 6 mile beach.

The beaches in Hedland are… interesting. They’re not the type you’d want to lay down your beach towel and bathe in the sun. The tide is so quick at rising and falling, literally receeding or rising up to 8 metres within hours. The sand replicates mud, or gritty with thousands of broken seashells. The sun is a scorching heat for the better part of the day.

It is a beautiful sight in it’s own way. Not the traditional beauty you’d expect from a glossy tourist magazine. But a unique landscape foreign to anyone who has not travelled to the region.

As we walked the familiar trek, the tide was relatively high, lots of birds flying and squawking overhead. The dogs ran ahead of us, gayly, exuberating energy and their excitement at their adventurous freedom. As we walked (today I shuffled) along the beach, my lungs felt crushingly stifled by the humidity in the air. I complained, “I can’t even breathe FRESH air! It’s soooo HOT!”

It reached 42 degrees celcius today. The humidity was in the late 80’s. Yes. Hot. Very hot. And humid.

But we walked.

As we walked, we passed the familiar dead tree. This feature captures my attention every time. It is a magnificent characteristic of the sandy strip… and today, I found it so enticing.. something so familiar.

It is dead wood. Yet it seems so alive. So prominent. So promising.

I felt like that tree replicated me today. I felt wooden. Going through the motions. So physically tired. Yet my mind still whirred. Thoughts. Ideas. Dreams. Goals. Plans for what I will do when I am rested.

‘Hubby’ stirs my thoughts with his ever-characteristic focus on the present. “Check out that heron sitting on the rocks!” his voice raises in delight. After all, he is an ex-wild life officer before his days as a Paramedic/Station Manager. He is almost child-like when he identifies animals in their latin name…confusing me with his show of brilliance. I usually just nod in appreciation and say “that’s great dear! I call that a dolphin!” It’s a bit like someone trying to speak French to you, when you don’t speak or understand French…. although.. having said that, I think I would swoon more at the French accent than latin names for animals!

We meandered along the beach, travelling over the rocky patches where the reef meets the sand. Then we ventured down the thin strip of land, the beginning of a sand bank… but not before watching the tide for a few minutes, certain that the ocean was receeding and not threatening to sweep us away.

Our dogs, Cooper & Sam, splashed about and chased the gulls. They frollicked and played like they had no care in the world. Well, they don’t do they?! They only ever seem to need some love, affection, food, water and a warm, soft bed to sleep in. They’re happy. An adventure to the beach sure beats their daily walks around the barren blocks near home.

Relaxed and worn out from walking ‘6-mile’ beach, we set up ‘camp’ for a spectacular front-row seat to watch the sun set. Sunrises and sunsets are the MOST glorious feature of the north west. Certainly in Hedland, where the land is barren, burnt, dry and not particularly soft on the eye. The suns rays seem to dance off the land in a breath-taking way. A miraculous sight of a day closing or opening up it’s eyes….with a radiance of energy.

“Let’s crack that bottle!” I encouraged ‘Hubby’. “I’ll sort out the cheese and crackers. You get the wine, eh?!”

We settled back in bliss.

Then Cooper caught our attention.

She was on the rocks. Yapping. Ears pricked back. Pointing. Indicating to us “Come here! Come quick!”

One second she was sniffing at the rocks, the next she was jumping back on all fours like she had been electrocuted.

“Maybe she’s seen a snake,” ‘Hubby’ casually said whilst observing her bizarre behaviour.

Being ever-protective I bolted from my seat and ran over to her. “What have you found girl?”

The closer I got, the louder I hear the “Clitter. Clatter.”

What I found astounded me. Excited me. Shocked me. Even scared me.

I felt like I had intruded onto a scene of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

There were hermit crabs. Hundreds. Even thousands of these small crustaceans, livening up for their nocturnal feed.

I thought to myself, “mental note: Don’t sleep on a Hedland beach.”

I used to keep hermit crabs as a pet when I was a kid. Mum had bought them from a shop for me. I would feed them soggy weetbix (I hope they weren’t gluten intolerant!) and special (???) hermit crab food from a container bought from the pet shop.

My whole childhood experience was overridden in that moment. When I kept hermit crabs as a pet, I’d let them crawl all over me. Nip my fingers even. Play with them. Watch them. (To be honest. They most often died not long after I had them. Not from my negligence. Perhaps from my ignorance…. or because they were so far away from their rightful home?) But in that moment. Squatting there, over the holes in the rocks, with hundreds of these critters scrambling over each other to get ‘out’, I shuddered.

I no longer felt like these were little ‘cute’ creatures. Still. I was frozen with fascination.

They moved with purpose. They had a mission. They knew where they were going.

It was then, with these thoughts, that I reconnected with these minature crabs.

I celebrated their sense of purpose. Purhaps it is an intuitive desire bred within. But isn’t that within all of us? That we have a destiny each to fulfill? Sometimes it takes a while to ‘awaken’ to know that purpose. But when we do, it is with such might and force, that we overcome whatever obstacle gets in the way of our path.

Interested in this point-of-view intruding into my thoughts. I bravely stuck my foot (covered with a sneaker) in the path of ten’s of these 8-legged creatures. They ALL moved in the same direction they intended, set on their mission towards the ocean. Most scattered laterally (to the left or the right) and then corrected their path to move forward. Some were even brave enough to challenge the mountainous fete of climbing over my foot. But none of them attacked…None of them gave up… None of them went backwards!

Isn’t it amazing where we can learn the most inspiring lessons from?

Even in the face of the combined awe and fear of these crustaceans, I learned….NEVER GIVE UP!

Whoever God is to you - God bless this earth…and the creatures on it. God bless you…and me.

May YOU reach your destiny. Take the challenge. Overcome the obstacles. KNOW YOUR PATH!

Entry Filed under: Misc, Stories from Kate Gilbert