Certain words should never be written in the same sentence, but here goes!
I saw a blind man with a cane walking to the dock in croc country, far North Queensland!
There you have it, how I needed to get that off my chest!
It was also that deceivingly peaceful end of day, everything appears still and quiet around here, but everyone knows reptiles lurk beneath the surface.
I was totally in my own little world on the way to the laundry for the third time, to collect the final load when something sliding from side to side at the top of the gangway gets my attention. You've got to be kidding me, this man must be off track! Did he miss the restaurant back there? Quickly analysing his right to stroll the marina to enjoy in the late afternoon like anyone else, I guess. Yet I was still listing my every concern as to why he shouldn't actually be there alone.
Not wanting to act hastily, I searched his eyes to check the degree of sight we were dealing with. He clearly hadn't adjusted his line, or his eyeballs for anything present, not that I personally needed him to, just saying. So, do I ask... stop him ...or just acknowledge the lovely day.... no weather.... heck no🤦🏻‍♀️.
With that he was passing me, I then see a woman at the top of the deck tottering from leg to leg in extreme anxiety, almost whimpering. Ok, now things have gone from bad to worse. I had let him continue with his white stick that appears to have him in the middle of the ramp and I run to her to ask if that was her husband, thinking I had worked this all out. 'No!' she stressed, in what sounded like a little girl voice. She was miniature, but quite mature, if you know what I mean. Her dishevelled grey hair was sticking out from her crooked straw hat and in her own special way she cried that she couldn't do it! What. was. I. dealing. with? Is it a full moon? My mind was racing to work out what exactly was playing out? Our dock was normally filled with routine, day to day, mix of clearly identifiable capable crew and excited and eager tourists heading straight for the charter boat of their choice. No, these people didn't seem to fit the bill. I dare not look any further afield, I had my hands full with this quirky and still squealing little lady. She, in panic told me she had to go down there. Pointing as if a monster croc was snapping behind me. 'But I'm afraid, I am 'spose to be goin on a boat soon!' Oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph, if she can't make the relatively wide ramp, how's the adventure up creek going to go. I wondered if they had smelling salts onboard the croc tour as they are going to need it. While she was dropping her bundle, I was dropping my basket offering to walk her. At the same time quickly scanning to see if the white cane picked up the right angle turn ahead.
Out of nowhere a dashing young man with a child in one arm, offers his free elbow, saying 'allow me'. Oh well then, while she was instantly smitten, I was relieved and they walked off into the sunset without a hitch, strangest thing I ever did see.
I headed to back to the normally mundane walk, smiling at my thinking the only thing to stir my senses that afternoon was going to be my crisp, fresh sweet smelling, warm towels.
This was 24hours ago and I'm needed again, this time by He Who Hums. We are about to enter the passage between island and reef to drop Condesa's sails and anchor for the night. All will be bedded down before sunset and we will be safe and secure. But my lesson here is that things aren't always as they appear.
I scamper up the companion way and right now it all looks as orderly as yesterday's pile of freshly folded linen.