26/10/21 I Saw A Seal: Adelaide

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I saw a seal!

I saw several seals, actually.

After work we collected my bike from the shop. I brought my helmet and gloves, intending to ride along the foreshore in the evening. I was not clever enough to remember to bring my seat so I had to forego my ride and go for a walk instead.

At the end of the Semaphore jetty several seals were happily cruising around the piers, stealing bait from the crab pots thrown in by hopeful crabbers on the jetty. The crabbers were one and all very optimistic: they threw their pots in despite being able, through the crystal clear water, to watch the seals raid them. The seals were not gracious winners and wallowed lazily in the sea, munching happily on their takeaway and waiting for more, teasing the crabbers by taking their time deciding which pot to rob.


 

We bought fish and chips and sat at the bottom of the Semaphore tower, watching the sun set over the sea calm as a mill-pond and guessing why there was ever a Semaphore tower there in the first place.

Semaphore beach and jetty from Semaphore Hill.

 Turns out that in 1851 one Mr George Coppin had one hotel at Semaphore (not that it was called that then) and another at Port Adelaide. He built a flagpole so he could signal to the Port pub when a ship was coming, presumably so they could be ready to receive guests and serve food and drink, and thereby get a jump on the competition although I guess the competition could keep an eye on the flagpole and have the heads up too.

Along came the Government in 1856 and built a telegraph station on the same hill, later adding a Post Office and the Time Ball tower. 

 

At 1pm every day the black ball drops, signalling ships to rate their chronometers. 

History is silent on the point at which the flagpole ceased signalling, but the Ball Drop Tower is still there with a very nice view of the jetty where it seems like half of Adelaide turned out to visit the seaside on the first warm day of spring.

Sunset over Semaphore Beach from Tower hill.

Fish and chips all eaten, we headed home to the dog.  He let us know that he was not impressed to be left at home, and paid us back by walking up and down outside the bedroom door all night, tapping a tattoo on the floorboards with his toenails. This revenge tactic was wholly ineffective: I slept through it all and only learnt of it via Roger's bitter complaints the following morning 

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