For more trip notes, click here.

I’ve wanted to ‘do Europe’ for… oh, I don’t know – a decade?

The preparations are finally underway!

Check out my Backpack, find a pocket, and crawl in.

I’d never heard of Phillip Treacy and I still don’t know who he is other than a milliner of silly hats, but what I do know is that I need to get me a Phillip Treacy hat. All the royals are wearing them! Anything resembling a crinoid, satellite dish, wedding cake, embryo from Shrek or an octopus-toilet seat hybrid will do. One has to keep up with the latest fashion, even if said fashion is less than fashionable. But hey, I’m just a commoner, what do I know?

I’d like to talk to the guard who opened the door for the Queen. Except, of course, he didn’t, because the Queen walked out on the other side. Her Majesty clearly chose to disregard the lesser peoples (because isn’t that the whole point of making them get out on the side facing away from the abbey entrance?) and took the shorter route, leaving the door-opener on her side of the car clearly devastated. He’d probably been training for the role for the past few months. Open door (don’t fumble!), salute, try not to look stupid (nothing you can do about that, dear, you’re a commoner)… Too bad mate, better luck next time. Maybe during Kate and Will’s divorce!

Given the immense hype and speculation around Kate’s dress, I expected to be dazzled. Instead, all I saw was a dress too loose for her skinny chest (come on, you were all thinking it – are those her nipples?) and a train long enough to clothe a dozen starving African children (probably worth more than enough to feed ten dozens). [Her sister's dress, on the other hand... Too much fake tan going on there, though.] The fashion commentator described her hair as being “half up, half down”. What does it take to be a fashion commentator?

At one point during the hymn-singing, the camera zoomed in on Camilla, and she looked like she was about to cry. A possible reaction to the Queen’s rebuff earlier on? The Queen gave several people, Prince Charles included, a kiss and hug, but all Camilla got was a very brief semblance of a handshake, without even a direct gaze, as if she couldn’t wait to get it over and done with.

And the happy fairytale couple? The two looked absolutely exhausted. And what was up with Kate’s smirk during her vows? Too late to get out now, girl. Should’ve taken Hitchens’ advice.

The latest research trip has been most productive. By far the most draining trip, but I got heaps of data and several potential papers out of it, so I’m happy.

I need a drysuit.

Easter holiday coming up – yay! Diving, camping and hopefully some me-time to do a bit of reading. For leisure.

The carbon tax debate continues. The union has issued an ultimatum, which is just idiocy. The Liberals are still as stupid and evil as ever. The scientists are throwing their arms up in despair. Gillard and Abbott are busy touring the mines and shaking hands with safety-vest-clad workers. Meanwhile, the planet is warming, storms are raging, reefs are dying. What a laugh.

It’s been nearly 8 month since my last research trip (Ashmore). I suppose I miss it in a way – being away from the usual routine of daily life and assuming a different schedule, one involving plenty of in-water time. It’s diving – how could I refuse? And yet… it just isn’t novel anymore. Gear up, get in, do the task, surface, repeat. When I’m ‘on surface interval’ (however long that may be) part of me yearns to be working again; but when the time comes I wish for more… excitement.

A tiger shark might just do the trick. It’s too early for whales.

It just seems like days ago (3 weeks) since I returned from the 3-week stint in Hobart, and now I’m off again. Where did the time go?

Apparently Singaporeans actually get to vote in the upcoming elections. Yi suggested I register as an overseas elector; I did the math and realised I’ve spent less than 30 days in Singapore in the last 3 years. You can tell how little I miss the country.

Went for a kickboxing class last week just to try it out. Pretty basic pad-work, nothing I can’t do on my own time. Also been going to several yoga sessions, which are great but are at times laughable. The things yogis and yoginis say! “See the yellow colour emanating from your left knee”; “bring your hands together in front of your third eye and give thanks for this yoga class” etc. etc. Why can’t they just stretch/breathe/meditate/do balance poses without going through all this spiritual crap?

It was a tiring 3 weeks. 8am-6pm most days, with loads of studying and theory review in the evenings so that we would more often than not collapse into bed at 10pm. Dive days were no different – out on the water between 10am-4pm, then back to the dive shed to wash gear and fill tanks. Dive days often ended at 7pm.

The diving conditions? Zero viz, silty bottoms, and cold (16-17C, not including the wind chill factor during surface intervals).

The course didn’t so much as go through scientific diving skills as it did train us to work comfortably in even the most horrendous conditions. We did run some transects and use a sediment corer, but that was the extent of scientific diving skills. We also got to use full face masks (urrggh) and twins, as well as conduct underwater searches (very challenging when you can’t even read the computer on your wrist) and diver rescues.

On the whole, I rather enjoyed the course. I met some interesting people among my fellow students, and the instructors were fun and engaging. I probably didn’t learn as much as I’d hoped to because most of the theory and skills were things I already know from several years of DM-ing and instructing, but I did at least get something out of the course, and for that I am glad.

Most of the weekends were spent studying for exams, but I did take a few hours off to explore the Salamanca Markets, as well as the newly opened Museum of Old and New Art (MONA) in Berriedale. On the last day of the course Simon took a few of us out on Morana to Wedge Island, and along the way we were accompanied by bottlenose dolphins and huge rafts of thousands of short-tailed shearwaters. I’d forgotten how beautiful the Tasmanian coast is – if it weren’t for the cold, I’d gladly live there.

Despite the pleasant time I spent in Hobart, it’s wonderful to be home in Brisbane. Mostly because the BF is here. As great as Skype is, it’s just not the same.

We went diving on Sunday (the day after my return – no rest for the wicked!) with 4 OW students in the Seaway Lagoon. The viz was nearly as bad as the Derwent River! Much warmer water though.

Monday, we attended a live Q&A session at the Powerhouse. There were some intelligent and lively discussions about multiculturalism, the flood levy, extreme weather and climate change, and it was great being able to see it live. Neither of us got to ask our questions, which was a shame, as no one mentioned anything about alternative strategies or policies (other than a carbon price) on tackling climate change impacts. I’d have thought that would be a rather important issue, especially in this current climate.

Tonight – WICKED! We had tickets for last month but due to the floods it got postponed, and we finally get to see it tonight!

I love my life.

“There are over 400 species of shark. To claim they are on the verge of extinction is headline grabbing, but an inaccurate generalisation, equivalent to claiming that all fish are endangered. As with the treatment of geese in the production of foie gras, exaggeration is common place for those who cannot tolerate the cultural habits of others.

“The UN Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wildlife Fauna and Flora (Cites) lists only three shark species whose consumption is subject to regulation – the great white, basking and whale shark. Dr Giam Choo Hoo, the longest-serving member of Cites, has said: ‘The perception that it is common practice to kill sharks for only their fins – and to cut them off whilst the sharks are still alive – is wrong… The vast majority of fins in the market are taken from sharks after their death.”

(Read full article here.)

What a crock.

CITES is an international agreement aimed at regulating trade in certain species. It does not address ecosystem threats or habitat loss, and is a framework that does not take the place of national laws. Quite often, domestic legislation is either arbitrary or non-existent. Participation is voluntary. Inclusion in the CITES appendices merely indicates an intergovernmental agreement to regulate import and export of the listed species. Exclusion of a species does not mean it is not endangered, merely that all Parties have not reached some sort of agreement.

I could really do with a dive right now. Fiji was wonderful, but that was a month ago. Time has happened in between then and now, along with other things. The St. Paul on Wednesday would be lovely (the St. Paul always is, even in raging current), but there’s the ever-present issue of money.

There are too many stubborn idiots in the world. People who glaver (love that word!) and are too absorbed in their tiny little world, who are incapable of any sort of meaningful thought beyond the miniscule capacities of their microscopic minds. People who reject inputs from the far more intellectually capable simply because they refuse to be told what to do, even if it is only for their own good.

Am I speaking of anyone in particular? No.

Maybe.

Tassie will be good, I think. It’ll get me in the water, if nothing else.

Last week, 75% of Queensland was flooded.

It started up north around the Rockhampton area, then Toowoomba and the Lockyer Valley were inundated, and even Brisbane was not spared.

The Brisbane River rose over West End and Southbank. I was high and dry in Toowong, but the surrounding suburbs suffered.

It was unreal. On Tuesday, I was still out and about. Going home from Eagle Farm, reports started coming in through the radio about flood warnings and heavy rain. Driving through the city, the traffic was terrible, with most people having been told to return home. By the afternoon, the Brisbane River had risen above its banks, and Caboolture (north of Brisbane) had become isolated due to floodwaters. We decided to do a bit of shopping in case the flooding got worse (ha! Little did we know!) and the supermarket was chock full of people and empty of fresh goods.

By that evening, there was little else in the news but flood reports.

Wednesday, forecasts were for the Brisbane River to peak at a level higher than the 5.45m of the massive 1974 flood on Thursday morning due to a king tide. I’ve seen photos of that flood – the water came up to the Great Court at UQ, and that’s saying something!

Wednesday afternoon, we took a walk down to Coronation Drive. The river had covered the walkway and the liquor store near the Regatta was already flooded. St Lucia fared no better, with carports and garages already inundated.

Thursday morning, we woke up to sunshine! Very misleading, as the river had risen even higher, although it peaked at 4.5m and not 5.5m as expected. Huge sighs of relief from a lot of people, no doubt. We took another walk to the river and the water had crept up even higher than the day before.

Friday, the cleanup began. Hordes of volunteers swarmed to help with the cleanup, which was very heartening.

The damage: many CityCat terminals/ pontoons destroyed; about 20,000 homes flooded; countless more without power; mud everywhere; widespread destruction of property and goods; death toll currently at 20; mines out of operation; insurance companies needing government bailouts due to the sheer amount of claims…

Once in a lifetime? Hardly. This will become more common as climate change continues to accelerate.