Saturday 24^th March

And no Stanley isn’t very warm.  But is it so very beautiful!  We are snugly tucked away in the fisherman’s wharf, tied up alongside a big fishing boat, Climax, from Hobart.  The Nut is just above us, with sea birds wheeling about in the sharp, icy wind.

Our last morning in Smithton was spent provisioning at the supermarket, just for a change.  More groceries, more toilet paper, more ginger beer – our Boys had discovered my stash of ginger beer and had drunk it very happily, one of them, in particular, under the fond delusion that it contained rum.  (It doesn’t, Michael.)

Before we went back to the boat, we called in to the Rabobank office.  Pete had a dim distant acquaintance, David Kay, who he was sure would be thrilled to see us.  David, once he had dredged up Pete from his own dim distant memory, was indeed thrilled to see us, and he made us a cup of coffee in his cosy warm WARM office.  We were very happy to sit there, chatting, basking in the warmth, with David’s elderly border collie panting at our knees.

But then we got back to 2XS and – oh dear – we were still stuck in the mud.  Pete thought we had missed the critical high tide moment, but in fact, as one of the locals laconically informed us, the tide book was wrong.  Eventually, with some heaving, some ho-ing, some tugging on a long rope by a helpful oldcodger with a ute, we were off and away.  Our laconic local had told us that Stanley wouldn’t be safe, in a southerly, and that we would be mad to go there.  It was a short trip, only two hours or so, and very beautiful, if freezing.  The wind was gale force but the sea wasn’t too horrifically big – we were sheltered by the land for most of the way.  The sea was a gorgeous colour – arctic blue/green, with fierce little eddies of spray blowing off the short, sharp waves.  Albatross and gannets wheeled overhead, in amongst the great flocks of shearwaters.

We were actually a bit worried…what if the old geezer was right, and that we wouldn’t be safe in Stanley?  Where else could we go?  We rounded The Nut in some trepidation, and found a narrow opening to the fisherman’s wharf.  We squeezed in and sighed with relief – it was so sheltered and cosy in there.  We tied up to our big solid fishing boat friend, and here we sit, very confidently.  We very much hope that the skipper of Climax doesn’t take it into his head to go out fishing… Some of the other boats in the fleet have already left for the stormy sea, but there is no sign of life, yet on Climax.  It’s not the end of the world, if they do leave; we can just move over, and tie up on the wharf, but it seems very safe and comfortable, having a big floating companion right alongside.

I told Pete I would take him to dinner at Hursey’s seafood restaurant, and that he would enjoy it very much.  He was a bit sceptical and thought it would be a long walk.  I assured him it would be five minutes at the most, and indeed within five minutes of clambering across 2XS and Climax (yes, I know…) we were at a lovely window seat upstairs in Hursey’s, ready for a feast.  We had taster plates of oysters – Kilpatrick, wasabi, hollandaise, natural, chilli, mornay - and shared a basket of scallops and a plate of salt and pepper squid.  And a bottle of red wine.  It was just great, big generous portions, cheery service from a very nice waitress who went off to check on the whereabouts of the Climax skipper and the probability of us being woken at 4am to move over.

This morning we slept in till very late – it was so cold outside and so warm in bed I think our bodies just shrieked in alarm at the very thought of waking up and getting out and about.  After a cup of tea, breakfast, and a cup of coffee, we set off on our bikes.  Pete had been to Stanley, but hadn’t remembered how absolutely lovely it is, with its graceful crescents of beautiful old fishing cottages, with The Nut soaring majestically in the background. 

A bit of shopping was in order (new winter boots for me, and paté for the 2XS fridge, from a new Providore shop in the main street, and then coffee in a beautiful café overlooking the lower part of town.

We brought home-made chunky beef pies for lunch And we are now sitting at the table with a bit of clear sunlight and a brisk cold breeze blowing through the cabin.  I am wearing Katy’s puffer jacket and a scarf over my warmest winter clothes so only my fingers are cold.  More Stanley adventures to come!

(A short sharp shock yesterday… I idly sent an email to Allan, our kindly Registrar, back in my World Of Work.  I idly asked him if he was expecting me on April 22^nd, which is of course a Sunday – surely it had to be the 23^rd.  He wrote back immediately saying that actually I am due back at work on the 12^th.  Gulp!  Panic stations… I told Pete who looked quite stunned.  “How could you make such a mistake?”  Oh Pete…how long have you known me??  This is EXACTLY the sort of mistake I make… I always had in mind the 21^st, had the letters in a slightly irresponsible and dyslexic way.  I picked up my phone to ring Allan, hoping that I could beg a few extra days and come back on Monday 16^th instead of Thursday.  Allan answered immediately and said he was just sending me an email offering to delay my return until the 16^th… So kind and considerate!  He laughed a lot because he, apparently, knows me and my failings better than Pete does…)

While I was writing the last paragraph, we heard movement on Climax - no not fishermen about to fish on the ocean, visitors for us!  It was the aforementioned David Kay, with his wife Felicity and her very pleasant Grade 9 son, Evan.  They came on board and had a G & T (Felicity and me) XXXX Gold beer (David and Pete) coke (Evan) and a game of backgammon (Felicity and Evan).  A very pleasant visit.  They have just left, bearing with them – oh we are so generous – a big backpack full of dirty sheets and towels from all of the beds on 2XS.  We are going there this evening for a lamb roast… People are so kind and generous.  As well as this random hospitality we had another small experience of Stanley helpfulness.  We had ridden down to the supermarket to check out where we could refill the gas cylinders for the boat.  While I was buying the weekend newspaper Pete talked to a young bloke outside.  A young bloke with a shiny blue ute… His name was Ben and he was more than happy to drive up to the boat, pick up the gas cylinder and Pete, take them both to the shop, take them both back to the wharf.  “Too easy!” he said, chirpily, as he drove off into the…well into the blue…

More Stanley adventures to come…