Kimberly, Conner and Franklin
We read all we could about Western Australia long before we got here. We’d been planning to run the Fitzroy River for over a year, so there really wasn’t much we didn’t know about WA. Or so we thought.
When we first hit the coast, wildfires were all over the news, people saying records would be broken this year, stuff like that. Radio said it was 40 and climbing but, I don’t know, must have been the adrenalin; felt fine to us. We were just so pumped to finally be here.
Well, to be honest, Kimberly could give a shit. She’s here because I was stupid enough to tell her we were going to a place called The Kimberly. She grabbed me, hugged me and started talking about signs from the gods, karma and when do we leave. My bad.
Kimberly Goings, recovering scientologist, part time hippy and full time total nut bag. And, yes, ex-girlfriend. The absolute last person you’d want on a trip like this. When I told him I wanted Kimmy to come with us, Conner, my best buddy since forever said, and I quote:
“No fuckin way! Are you out of your fuckin mind?”
I understood completely, of course, but what could I do?
“Franklin,” he said, “listen, you cannot be responsible for everyone you used to be with. It was not your fault; shit happens. This is our trip, man.”
I knew I was being a total dick, but Kimberly took it really bad when we broke up, I mean like as bad as it gets, and I really felt like I owed her this. So I poked and prodded, reminded Conner that we needed a driver to meet us at the take out spot anyway, and eventually he gave in, under heavy protest.
We flew out of Logan on a late night to Dubai and then straight on to Bangkok. We took two days to decompress and acclimate, then grabbed a cheapo Quantas flight to Port Hedland where we crashed big time. Forty hours in the air will seriously kick your ass. We holed up in Port Hedland for another couple of days to get our land legs back, then hopped a bus and here we are, sitting down to lunch in beautiful Broome, WA.
“Holy shit! You guys see this?”
Conner reads over Kimmy’s shoulder:
Mosquito populations explode across Western Australia raising fears of disease
“Happens every summer.”, he says, and pours himself another coffee. Kimberly starts reading aloud to us:
Dr. Chi Liu of Sydney University tells The Daily News that Australia has seen the warmest spring on record for the fourth year running, and this has contributed greatly to the mushrooming numbers. Dr. Chi predicts that, with all the recent flooding, this year could bring as much as a four-fold increase over last season, meaning we could be talking about hundreds of millions of mosquitoes in The Kimberly alone.
“In The Kimberly alone!”, she screams.” Okay, I’m sorry, but that scares the living shit out of me. I fucking hate mosquitoes!”
Kimberly puts her hands together and starts quoting some karmic prayer or something.
“Actually,”, says Conner, trying to be helpful, “hundreds of millions divided by two, since only the females bite.”
“Not funny, Conner.”, she says in mid-prayer, “Wait, is that true?”
“Yep. While the boys just drink sweet nectar and look for girls, the girls need to suck as much blood as they possibly can to feed all the eggs the boys have left them with. Sound familiar?”
Kimmy starts laughing and looks over at Conner.
“You’re such an asshole.” she says.
“I am, no doubt, but I do know my mosquitoes. A female can lay up to 200 eggs at a time, which only need like a week to hatch, meaning, if the conditions are right, a single wetland can produce millions of new mosquitoes every week.”
“And,”, I chime in, “this turkey never gets bitten, even while the little buggers are clobbering me.”
“They always get me too.”, says Kimmy, “Why is that?”
“Well,” explains helpful Conner, “it comes down to a chemical cocktail of smells on the skin. Everybody’s is a little bit different and some are just tastier than others.”
“Yeah, well that sucks.”, she says, and chuckles at her own little pun, “Hey, how come you know so much about mosquitoes?”
Conner explains how he studied entomology at U of M for three years before dropping out, and that the mosquito quickly became his favorite insect.
“It is truly the most amazing little creature.” Conner getting into his groove now.
“It’s mouth is like a tool box with all these devices for different jobs. One is a tube that allows the mosquito to secrete its saliva on you. It’s gross, but remarkable. That saliva contains a drug that acts like an anesthetic.”
Kimberly leans forward.
“So we don’t feel it when they bite.” she says, wide eyed and excited.
“Exactly!”, continues the expert, “Meanwhile, the other tools begin this little dance of coordinated movements that dig into your flesh. The mandibles are serrated on the tip, like tiny steak knives, to carve their way in. Then, just below the surface, the whole package of nasty pointy things suddenly makes a 90-degree turn and this is where the attack really begins.”
Kimberly is totally enthralled, not to mention the two kids at the next table. Conner is loving it.
“You see, that tube that does the spitting is actually two straws in one, one inside the other. As she continues to spit out the anesthetic, the other wider tube in the straw is sucking in samples of fluid to see if it’s hit pay dirt. Actually, it’s a little known fact that mosquitoes are the only creatures we know of that can spit and suck at the same time.”
Kimberly and the kids at the next table crack up, and the kids’ mother turns and calls Conner something that we can’t quite understand. Kimmy calms down and looks thoughtfully at Conner.
“You know,”, she says, “you’re not such an asshole after all. I’m actually starting to like mosquitoes.”
“Mozzies.”, says Conner, “They call them mozzies down here.”