Words and photographs by Susan Prior
Self-indulgent, self-centred, self-important, self-absorbed, self-serving, self-interested, or just plain old selfish?
I’ve deliberately left self-sacrificer off the list. With good reason.
With coronavirus, COVID-19, running rampant in Australia, yesterday, 3 April 2020, the difficult decision was made to put Norfolk Island into lockdown. This means a severe curtailing of our hitherto taken-for-granted freedoms. The authorities need to establish who is not taking mandatory self-isolation seriously, and who is therefore endangering the community at large. We live on a small island with limited medical facilities, and an elderly, vulnerable population. The only practical way to ensure that those who exhibit all the selfs (apart from the most important one) ‘do the right thing’ – and with limited resources – is to get everyone off the roads. Hence, we now have a lockdown.
We’ve been given a long list of dos and don’ts. A lot of people are self-sacrificing liberty, jobs, businesss and convenience right now.
For sure, it is a strange place where we now find ourselves, and it is interesting to note how people are reacting in their different ways.
Even though we have been social distancing for some days now, pre-lockdown I was still able to head down to the beach and do my swim, go for a walk, or head to the top of our little island and breathe in the view. Find my zen – my peaceful place.
Now, the actions of a few of the ‘selfs’ mean that can no longer happen.
The bullet-proof among us have demonstrated a cavalier attitude to a simple request to step up and self-isolate during this coronavirus, COVID-19, epidemic. Even with non-stop media explaining the nuances of herd immunity, and banging on about self-isolation, social distancing and cough etiquette, sadly some still choose not to ‘get it’. It is more important that they can party, see their mates, and maintain ‘business as usual’.
But, no, you can’t.
No. You can’t go to visit your girlfriend when you are in mandatory self-isolation after coming home from an overseas trip.
No. You can’t pop around to a friend’s house for a barbeque, or to play board games, or to binge-watch old seasons of Tiger King or Rick and Morty.
And no. You can’t pop around to grandma’s and give her a big hug and a kiss after just saying goodbye to all your mates down at the beach.
Personally, I think that how you choose to respond to this pandemic will speak volumes to your character.
These photos were taken at different times and in different lights.
Anyway, yesterday afternoon I popped down to my fave beach, Emily Bay, where I live on Norfolk Island, and did my laps for the last time – for a few weeks at least. As always, I had my little camera stuffed down the front of my cossie in case I saw something interesting.
And, as always, I did. I was treated to a close encounter with one of the beautiful rays that live in the bay.
Twenty years ago, I’d been living on the island for nearly five years, and back then, like now, I was as addicted to my daily swim. The morning I boarded the plane back to a new life in Queensland, Australia, and feeling choked with a heavy heart, I went for my last swim. As I returned to shore, it occurred to me that I hadn’t seen my friendly eagle ray that day. At the time, I confess I was heartbroken. The ray had been there on so many of my swims, along with George, my favourite surge wrasse and a few other colourful characters besides.
But at the last moment Eddie glided into view, skimmed right beneath me in very shallow water, tipped a wing and went on his way. I got out of that water totally elated.
Fast forward to yesterday; the tide was up and there was a lumpy swell. I did a laboured swim against some quite heavy currents without seeing anything particularly amazing. I would miss this de-fragging time but needs must.
“It’s time to put our own ‘selfs’ to one side and think of all the others.”
As I was pulling into shore, there was a ray. It wasn’t Eddie (who is actually probably the son of my original Eddie 20 years ago!), or even Wallis the other ray that has been in the bay (these two have featured on my Facebook page for this blog and are shown in the photos above). I know this because it was a female, and she didn’t have Wallis’ mangled tail. But still, there she was munching her way contentedly through the weed and sand.
It was kind of comforting and made me recall that moment 20 years earlier. I know she’ll be there – or Eddie, or Wallis – when I get back to my swimming in a few weeks’ time. They always are.
For now, though, Emily Bay is deserted. Just her beautiful curves embracing the waves and the winds. The hidden world of critters doing their own thing beneath.
Hanging up my towel. For now.
Nice.
Meanwhile, the country, our island, has been held to ransom by all the selfs except the one that matters: self-sacrifice.
A lot of people are self-sacrificing liberty, jobs, businesses and convenience right now. Let’s make it all worth it so we can get back to business as usual. We need those who don’t ‘get it’ to learn how to practise some self-sacrifice as well.
