Penguin Release

They released rehabilitated penguins yesterday at a beach I could walk to in seven minutes. And I didn't know. Dammit.

Shark Release

We went down to Collaroy Beach two weeks ago and witnessed the release of four young Wobeggong Sharks. It's all part of Project Wobbegong:

With shark populations collapsing worldwide and local wobbegong numbers in decline, the juveniles are part of a research program investigating whether sharks bred in captivity can thrive in the wild.

The joint venture between Sydney Aquarium and Macquarie University, called Project Wobbegong, is already a success, with 12 out of 17 individuals released setting up home in the area or returning on a regular basis.

A crowd gathered on the beach, waiting for the sharks, including camera crews.

And divers:

The shark truck finally arrived. I snapped a shot of the shark buckets:

The crew pulled one of the buckets out, and we get a little video, and some info on the sharks. You can also hear the caw of the Australian crow, which never ceases to crack me up:




Look at that pattern:

And the crazy release, during which I say "WOE be gone" - it's "WAH be gong."




Wobbegongs are flat, almost like catfish, and have supreme camoflage, which they use to lie in wait for prey. (They're also known as "carpet sharks.") They can grow to more than three meters, or about ten feet in length, can live up to thirty years, and are mostly harmless: they'll only bite if they've been severely provoked. These little guys are just over three  years old, and about 60 centimeters or about two feet long. There are actually eleven different species of Wobbegong shark, and I don't know which one these are, though I'm pretty sure they're Spotted Wobbegongs (Orectolobus maculatus), which are the largest of the bunch.

Wobbegong, according to some sources, means "shaggy beard" in an Aussie Aboriginal language.

On the way home, pelican arse:

And in the Collaroy Surf Club for a fish lunch, a message to employees from management:

And wo, look at this Wobbegong species. Crazy.

Ow

Brazil:

"A black police helicopter dropped white rose petals over mourners and a nation was left struggling for answers."

My High School Had a Steel Drum Band

What a strange memory I just had: My high school had a steel drum band. They even put out albums. How weird is that? I've actually just found them online, and found out that they're the third oldest still-playing steel drum band in U.S.:

In 1972 Lancaster Middle School band director John Marone was in Albany in the Mall of the Capital Building. Performing there was "Calliope's Childrens Steel Band" from Horace Greeley High School in Chappaqua, New York, under the direction of Mr. James Leyden. In the audience that day was Ellie Mannette, who was both the close friend, drum manufacturer and tuner for Mr. Leyden. Ellie Mannette lived in Queens, NY at that time. Mr. Marone was so intrigued by the sound of the steel drums, that he stayed and met the two giants of the early steel drum movement.

John returned to Lancaster in hopes of starting a steel program here. Unfortunately, there were no drums. The first drums that Lancaster and Mr. Marone were able to obtain were from local musician, Mr. Bob Diaz. These used drums included a set of five bass drums, a set of triple cellos, a double guitar, one or two double seconds and a single lead. John Marone used these drums with some middle school students, and immediately named the Lancaster group, the Carnival Kids Steel Orchestra. Mr. Marone knew in importance of “Carnival” both in Trinidad, and its relevance to the development of the steel drum.

As John’s students went to the high school in 1974, the group naturally became a high school organization. This is the date that is used as the starting point to this day, and as so often been stated, makes our CKSO the third oldest established continuing steel drum program in the United States. Mr. Marone worked both with high school students as the CKSO, and formed a separate training group of middle school students that was known as the cadet band.

Here's a weirder thing—and I know this is probably of little to no interest to anyone but myself and a few friends, but let me get this out here: Their website says they played at the World's Fair in Knoxville, Tennessee, in 1982. I worked at that World's Fair. I mean what are the odds for that? Just weird.

Old Sayings....Reconsidered: "Never Bring a Knife..."

Never bring a knife to a gunfight—but a blender might be alright. You could whip up some daiquiris, get all the prospective gunfighters good and drunk, and when they pass out you could steal their guns and replace them with knives. Then, when they wake up, you could yell, "Never bring a knife to a gunfight, bitchez!", and shoot them.

Never bring a knife to a gunfight—bring a blender instead. And rum, limes, and a sweetener of some kind. (I prefer powdered sugar.) And make sure there's a power source for the blender. I don't know about you, but I've always pictured gunfights taking place in a barren place in the great outdoors—so you might want to consider a generator. And you're going to need a bunch of knives, to put in place of the guns on the gunfighters after they pass out, which of course means that you're bringing knives to a gunfight, which takes us right back where we started.

How about you just not go to gunfights? Is that so hard?

Googling The Corniolis Effect

I was just checking my visiter status, which tells me how people end up here at Little Australia, and I found that someone was directed here after googling, "What is the Corniolis Effect?"

That's so funny I think I may actually have to go to the bathroom.

P.S. I think you meant to go here.

Stick Cocoon Creature, Banksia Man, and Singing Tree

The eagle-eyed Christine stopped us yesterday on our hike in Ku-Ring-gai National Park, saying, "Thom, look at this."

I looked at this:

It was about four inches long. It was soft: you could squeeze it, like it was an empty sac. It smelled resiny.

"It's a cocoon," Christine said. "I remember them from when I was little."

I've just looked it up, and I quickly found a remarkably similar photo—even down to the way those outer sticks are configured: it's the cocoon (empty, pretty sure) of the caterpillar of a case moth, possibly the Saunders' Case Moth, Metura elongatus. Oh, you have to go here, too. And holy crap, here, too. (I've just realized, this is related to the "Walking Turd" from December, but a different species, clearly.)

Good eye, Christine.

Now here's Christine and a scary Banksia  Man. (Guess which ones which.)

Aren't she perty?

And a tree:

Oh, Vienna!

***

Christine suddenly burst out in song on the way home, singing along with a song on the radio that I'd never heard in my life.