We reached the beach and collapsed on the sand, fatigued from our rapid poetic journey through central Tasmania and shock upon reaching Green Beach.
Green Beach Falls into Ghostly Hush
We’d hoped that Green Beach would be lusciously welcoming, but now it seemed devoid of spirit, and eerily silent.
Waves of lime lapped the silent shore, and we huddled together as warmth waned like the early morning hours after a winter’s wake.
Dec O’ Rum Provides a Lift with some Decorum
Just as it was getting so grim we thought the reaper may appear, we heard a loud voice reach us from across the sea.
‘Ahoy, me hearties’ would you like a lift to the mainland, I’m on my way to Victoria, and I need a few more deck hands on board for the treacherous voyage over stormy seas.’
It seemed like great timing, and we soon made our way out to the boat. As we boarded we were met by a rum swigging sailor who looked like he was fond of a drink, with the deck full of rum barrels.
However, he still retained a sense of decorum, as he introduced himself as Captain Dec O’ Rum.