Pinch, punch first of the month, Friday 1st August. We were still awaiting our Tax refund to come through and only had a few dollars left in our pockets. We had already broken the seal on the credit card so thought why not fill Shiela up on it and head off to Eungella National Park, a few hours south of Airlie Beach. Eungella apparently has the highest concentration of platypus in Australia and we had promised ourselves we would do our damndest to spot one in the wild. We had read in our lonely planet bible that there was a camp site called Platypus Bush Camp and that they have a river with lots in. The bible said it was eight dollars per person per night. We counted up all our cash and we had $21 so we spent five bucks on veg for dinner and headed down south. We arrived at the bush camp and the owner (Wazza) was out so we set up camp and cooked dinner. When Wazza returned he told us that it was ten bucks a night and in the sad state of affairs we were in we couldn't muster up the extra four dollars. Wazza in his croaky, brash redneck Auzzie accent said, 'well f*** ya here now so you gotta pay'. so we drove to the nearest town to try to draw some money out on the credit card. In the local pub at the ATM I thought ill just try my Oz bank and the balance popped up at $1600. Our rebate wasn't due for a couple of days but couldn't have come at a better time. Most of this dosh was due to go straight back out to pay the MasterCard but we had some breathing space now. We had racked up a couple thousand $$$ by paying for A skydive at Mission Beach, A white water rafting trip down the Tully River and A 3day 2night camping experience at Ayers Rock. This of course needed paying off. We returned back to the Platypus Bush Camp and tried to spot the elusive beast at dusk at the viewing area, a little beach next to the clear river with quite a deep pool. No joy tonight. The following day we lazed around the camp sorting vids and pics and got talking to a guy (Damion) who lived on the small camp ground. He told us to go up the road and meet Jack at the kiosk who sold ice creams. We were informed he was quite a character. Off we trotted up to what we were expecting to be a shop selling all sorts and arrived at a shed with a sign saying 'Homemade Mango Ice-cream'. The door was locked and through the window the shed looked empty. As we were walking back down the road a pick-up truck or Ute as they call them out here whizzed round the corner and we were heckled back by a rough and ready looking guy wearing army clothes. So Jack took us into his shed and opened a chest freezer the only thing in the room and gave us some ice-cream. We then went out into his back garden and sat with him chatting away. He was very drunk and informed us that he had been smoking with some of his old army buddies. My eyes lit up and he rolled us a very strong spliff to share. What a gentleman. He told us that he had been in the army for twenty years and had fought in Vietnam. He insisted on showing us his house further down the track which was an old plane hanger with make shift rooms and practically nothing in it apart from scabby old dogs and rat traps. Behind his house was an igloo shaped building that he had built for music. We went in and it was really echoey. Jack said he has friends round and they smoke and play didgeridoo in there. We did get a little spooked, as we stood in the igloo Jack walked out and leant on the door, we looked at each other both thinking for a second we could be locked in. Paranoia, that will teach me for smoking, what's your excuse Victoria?. We were planning to go on a zip wire through the rain forest the following day and told Jack this. He informed us that he had made his own zip-wire effort going across the river further down on his land and that we shouldn't pay forty bucks each we should use his in the morning. We were a bit dubious as his house was falling down and was he capable of making a safe zip wire that wasn't going to send us plunging to our deaths in a croc infested river?. Anyhoos, we went back to camp and at dusk went platypus spotting, still no luck. The next morning (August 3rd Happy Birthday Damglad) we met Jack at his house and he made Vicki a cup of tea and opened me a cold beer. We drove down a track and arrived at Jacks homemade flying fox. It surprisingly looked really safe, it had proper safety harnesses and all the right kit so we buckled up and zipped out across the river then walked a little further down and clipped on and whizzed back. Jack said that him and a mate who is seventy often go half way across the river then lock themselves in the middle and have a smoke, sometimes even take a bit of road kill with them to throw to the crocs . He has even made a harness for one of his dogs 'Rocky' who is half dingo and when you unclip him on the other side he grabs the harness and runs down to the next section and does summersaults 'til you get there. We said thank you and farewell to our crazy new friend who kept informing us that he was still suffering 'agent orange syndrome' that's why he has to drink and smoke so much. We headed for Broken River as Jack told us we would definitely see platypus there. We drove up over a mountain on the way and had fantastic views of the valley littered with sugar cane fields. We arrived at Broken River before dusk so cooked some dinner and fed half of it to the wild turkeys. We found a spot by the river and waited until it was almost dark. Nothing. We then walked up on top of a bridge and looked over and within five minutes we spotted one swimming on the surface. Then a turtle popped up, then two more platypus. It was dark by this stage so we only got poor quality shots but what a fantastic experience to see this elusive creature in the wild. With grins on our faces we drove the two hours back up to Airlie beach and phoned Damglad, he was dam glad to hear from us on his birthday. We had a lazy day the following day and read books, then the day after we drove to Shute Harbour and looked out from the cliff tops at some of the islands. We waxed most of our tax rebate and settled our debts with Mr MasterCard and had to pay a $30 transfer fee for the privilege. We then left Airlie Beach and headed for Prosepine as Nick had recommended a great swimming rock pool. When we got there we found the river and asked a lady in the local shop where the best place to swim was and, MR RIDER! she informed us that if we walked near the river let alone swam in it we would most probably be attacked by crocodiles as apparently the river had a high concentration of crocs, so either when you were here it was so long ago that crocs hadn't evolved or you have a grudge against us. Huh do ya do ya do ya……?. We left Prosepine on route to Townsville and picked up two Belgium backpackers who were hitchhiking their way up the coast. They were a couple and they were only 19. They said it was the best ride they have had so far as they got to lie on the bed the whole way and we dropped them at a campsite in Townsville as they had no idea where they were going to stay. The following morning we drove up to Castle hill, with views over the city and had breakfast then carried on our northbound journey and arrived in Tully. We were planning to work here as Siobhan, one of the girls on our Whitsunday boat, had given us a phone number for banana picking. We planned to do this at the start of next week as our Skydive was booked in two days time on our 8 year anniversary on the 8th day of the 8th month 2008. We camped in a nice residential area just south of Mission Beach called Bingle Bay. The next day we lazed on Bingle Beach then after a spot of lunch drove the half hour to Tully and a place called Alligators Nest. This is a swimming hole where two creeks meet forming a deep clear pool. Despite its name there are no alligators or crocs. Friday 8th August (Happy Anniversary)! We had pancakes, maple syrup and ice-cream for breakfast at Gecko's café in Mission Beach. Not sure if it was a good idea to be jumping out of a plane on a full stomach. We were both very excited and nervous about our Sky dive. As we had a few hours to wait we drove to Tully again and went to a couple of op shops to look for some books and purchased the complete works of Shakespeare and Treasure Island for 80c each, Cheaper by the Dozen for 50c and another old musty smelling book that the title escapes me at this moment. There is something about old musty yellow paged books that I like. I think it reminds me of Grandma… Old musty smelling and yellow? We arrived at Tully aerodrome and our stomachs started doing somersaults. The realisation that we were jumping out of a plane at fourteen thousand feet and free falling for nine thousand of them had just hit. We signed a form basically saying that if the parachute fails to open we won't sue. Then watched a video of a guy being terrified to death jumping out of the tin can they call a plane. We kitted up, met our private camera men who would jump with us then before we knew it we were in the air watching the ground get smaller and smaller. When the plane levelled out at fourteen thousand feet we shuffled to the edge of a roller door and the camera man climbed out first hanging to the side of the plane like a fly then helplessly strapped to the front of a man you tumble out of the door doing several forward rolls in the process. All you can see is the beach and the sea way below and its hard to close your mouth, which dries out instantly as you are falling at over 200kmph. I was wearing a shirt with a collar that flapped extremely fast whipping my ears red raw. Vicki said that her ears hurt incredibly and she had to hold her hands over them for some of the free fall. The sixty second free fall seemed like an eternity and as the parachute opened yanking you upwards the cameraman who was due to land on the beach first and film your landing just disappeared into a small dot. I was certain I was going to see him splash into the sea. Suddenly everything seems tranquil and calm as you float downwards looking out at the reef and islands. The straps to steer the parachute are handed to you and you can pull either side and turn left or right. I landed on the beach first and a few minutes later was followed by Vicki. Both landings were incredibly smooth and our feet hit the sand as if we had stepped off a chair. As Vicki was unclipped I walked over and gave her a big hug, then popped my self down on one knee and asked her to marry me. Ahhh, how romantic. I had had the ring in my pocket whilst jumping out of the plane and had been carrying it in my camera bag for the last nine months. Much to my relief Vicki said yes and we are now fiancées. We had a celebratory meal that we cooked and sat on the beach eating and drinking champagne. We called our Banana contact the next day and were told to start on Monday at 6am. We watched our skydive DVD several times and then spent all the money we had left on two cocktails and fish and chips, oh and some bread and plastic cheese for lunch whilst at work. We were now back down to under $10 to our names but we have jobs. So on Monday 10th August we woke up at 5am and drove to Tully to pick bananas, which have the highest fruit picking death rate due to snake and spider bites….bring it on ……minimum wage here we come with 30% tax as well.