I look across the water to the headland and see
the little shade huts, not as humpies but as places
strange, places that don't exist in Australia. I see the
banca boats as if for the first time even though I have
known them for over 30 years. I cross the end of the
runway and am amazed at the little goats following their
mothers. I walk past the junk yard and delight in the
smile and the wave of a 2-year old girl with her mother
who encourages her to say hello.
And the runway workers who wave and say hello
whenever they pass. And the guard who sits in a lookout
near the end of the runway and who always waves and calls
“hello” and asks if I am going to Bali
Whenever I take a tricycle or a jeepney there is
always something I see that touches my little child - it
could be a sign, a chicken, a child, a bamboo fence, a
shack - there's almost nothing that doesn't awaken the
child within me.
It is like being born again and growing up
again, always with new things to plan and to look at.
Right now I'm sitting in Sunset Bay Resort looking at the
headland. I know that beyond that headland is the bay
where I, along with my sons David and Gwam, arrived in
the yacht Apocalypse back in 1985. And I know the red
lights on the headland will flash all night tonight. And
I know I love those lights as I love the sound of the
waves I hear now.