The Sea Draws Them

Did you hear that? asks Schopenhauer. Seaweed laughing?

But Captain Louttit does not answer. He throws himself upon the heap of seaweed.

Freycinet, as I live and breathe! he cries.

A handsome lobster emerges from the heap of seaweed, saying : Louttit! Quelle surprise!

Schopenhauer is relieved. The laughter was emitted by handsome lobster. Many things are dreamed of in his philosophy, but not seaweed laughing.

Introduce me to your friend, says Schopenhauer.

This is Louis-Claude de Saulces de Freycinet, says Captain Louttit. A sailor. And this is Arthur Schopenhauer, philosopher and my new cycling coach.

Both parties claim to be delighted.

Delighted, says Schopenhauer

Enchanté, replies de Freycinet.

They all look solemnly at the heap of seaweed. It is interesting enough.

What brings you here, Louttit, in the winter? asks de Freycinet.

Long story, says Captain Louttit. Having cycled from Apollo Bay to Melbourne, sailed from there to Devonport, cycled to Lake St Clair and canoed single-handed down the Derwent River to Hobart,  I took the opportunity to moult in the CSIRO Marine and Atmospheric Research Centre. Now I'm on my way to England for the Tour de France where I expect to join the team of Ageless lobster.

Tut! says de Freycinet. I abhor the fact that the Tour de France this year is starting off in England.

Modern times, says Captain Louttit. How about you, old matelot?

Ouf! says de Freycinet. I flotter and flâner around the Freycinet peninsula. I take tours. You see this seaweed? It's not what you think.

The seaweed is a large and twisted piece of kelp, wet, brown, pock-marked and leathery, with a rubbery yellow stalk.

Note the various spaces, which serve as circular cabins, says de Freycinet.

Schopenhauer rolls his eyes and stares.

I see, says Captain Louttit. Not a mode of travel for the large, or the faint-hearted.

Certes! says de Freycinet. But you, mon ami, are neither large nor faint-hearted. Come with me! I'll show you Wineglass Bay, the Hazards, Schouten Island, Cape Baudin.........

Torn between a sailing tour and cycling lessons, Captain Louttit tries a compromise.

Take me up the coast to Bay of Fires, says Captain Louttit. I'll rejoin my friends there.

I don't usually go that far north, says de Freycinet.

Faint heart never won fair lady, says Captain Louttit.

De Freycinet is stung. He will do it for French honour.

He drags his seaweed vessel down to the dark grey spitting sea. The two lobsters clamber in among the kelpy tendrils. The sea draws them scratchily to its bosom. Squuuuuurrr!

Schopenhauer is left standing on the sand beside the drag marks.

Did that just happen?