Now, there have been some pretty scary moments for me on Straddie, but the sandbank sweep on 2nd Cylinder certainly takes first prize. You may be a little bemused at me declaring just one event as scary, given the death defying feats already described. But I tell you, this incident was scary – firstly, because it involved all 4 brothers and secondly, the situation was totally out of our control. See, the worst result from most of our other challengers would have only left us with a broken limb or severe cuts and burses this one was life threatened for all of us. Now, the ever changing sand patterns at Straddie is one of the features that makes the place so interesting. On this particular day we noticed that a long sandbar had developed on 2nd Cylinder originating at the hotel headland and extending outward at an angel pointing somewhat towards the large sand hill on Moreton Island. The tide was low and it appeared to us that it was possible to walk along this sandbar for quite a way. Now you may ask, why did we? Simple, cause it was there. Now as we began that adventure it did not occur to any of us that it might be dangerous or that we should turn back. It was as if we were mesmerized by the sirens in that ancient story, beckoning us into danger whilst we pursued a desirable beauty. As we moved along that bar we began to experience the power bound up in the waves. They were not so much crashing over the bar as they were surging and rising up in a swell over the top of it. The sand bar heaved and sighed like the movements of a sleeping giant’s chest. The arrival of each new swell signalled a complete halt for the group who would take a firm posture in the sand until the ocean’s rush had passed. The swells were just knee deep at first, but as we travelled on they became waist deep and finally they got to tit deep. At this point we were finally jolted from the enticing spell and we all decided that this adventure was done. Now the ocean’s living cycle had other ideas. It had decided that the adventure was not as we thought but was in fact, just beginning. Before we could turn our thoughts into actions, a huge swell just lifted our bodies up and out of their sure footings and then ever so gently carried us into the treacherous deep gutter separating our sandbar from the beach. We all immediately felt the new dimension to the living pattern and function of that ocean cycle. See, the huge volume of water surging over the bar was being expelled as a fast ripping current along the deep gutter and back out to sea – ‘Undertow Rip’ should be spelt R.I.P. Now all this is fine for the ocean who has had a long history of being way out there about 100m off the beach, but for us brothers, there was a certain this is it feeling about the events as they unfolded that day. Every moment of bewilderment saw us being sweep further and further out to sea and away from the safety of the receding shoreline. The first reaction to swim vigorously in the direction of the beach proved as futile as a car trying to stop its sideways momentum having been caught by a train at a railway crossing. Everything we did to try and promote forward propulsion was met with the resultant sideways push. Pip was the poorest swimmer in the group and he became David’s major concern and eventual lifesaver. (both in terms of job description and actual function). David’s added responsibly saw him take a view that our heads are above water and we are OK. He was in no position to exert the useless energy that Tom and me were expending by trying to frantically get to the shore. He just concentrated on keeping his and Pip’s head above water. Tom and me soon took the same attitude once we realized the futility of our efforts. Now the next stage of the ocean’s cycle that did not occur to us at the start, was that it soon loses interest in just being a rip roaring current and so heads back to the sand bar to become just another tit height swell. So the rip just left us. It lost interest. It had better things to do. We on the other hand had plenty to do namely a 150m swim back to the shore. Now you have seen those shipwreck movie shots with bodies lying on the sand at the waters edge being gently pushed around by the shoreline waves well that was us for real. Thankfully, all the bodies on 2nd Cylinder that day were still breathing and one lived long enough to tell a story about it.
