To The Homestead
With the Mornington Peninsula drawing most of the attention, a couple of freedive buddies recently found good reason to travel west in search of marine entertainment.
Coerced by the power of adventure we prepared to visit the Point Cooke Marine Sanctuary near Point Cook around 30 minutes from Melbourne CBD.
Sometimes you harbour an inkling about the future. This premonition was that the dive spot would be mostly sandy muck, murky with visibility bordering on atrocious.
Sometimes you’re wrong. This time it was right.
Driving towards the Homestead launch point, the clouds closed in, the ominous signs of disaster loomed. Not really, but that’s powerful dramatic imagery.
As gravel crumpled under the tyres, the fever grew. The arrival at the Homestead is quite intriguing, a cafe awaits along with very active noisy geese and an assortment of other farm-type animals, including tourists such as ourselves.
Walking by the cafe in full neoprene regalia, long fins, flapping dive flag and cool looking weight belts we probably looked a little out of place. Sheep made noises.
Needless, the water beckoned.
What stumped us most was the unfamiliar view of the city towers stalking the skyline. It was a spectacular sight and one worth repeating.
Entering the shallow 16c water, we knew not what was underneath.
Expectations met, the visibility was woeful. Unperturbed we went about exploring the area, checking out underwater rock features, plant life, the odd fish and the visibility that was pushing hard to get to 2 metres.
The milky playground found us a couple of hundred metres from shore in about 5m depth. The murk meant that every plunge was a lottery.
As the sun descended and temperatures in and out dropped, we aimed for shore. For sure.
It was then that the fun began. Surrounded by hundreds of blubber jellyfish we had our own Palau-esque Jellyfish Lake experience. Riding the current the squadrons of blubber made their way along the coastline across our exit path. A tremendous sight these pulsing beasts mostly coordinated in their approach. The occasional protestation of directional capability seemingly all part of the roam towards their ultimate drift destination.
This stampede of tentacles and large head-borne crosses slowed us as we bumped through the parade.
Arriving at shore, who would have known better than the orchestrated welcoming song of the geese?
Then, the clouds lifted and the sky was blue. Visibility returned anew.
Thanks to my accomplices on the day, Denise and Mona.