Thursday 10^th January

Once again proof that…some things float, most things sink…

On Saturday we took a crowd of happycampers (Sonia Matt Olivia Tom Ronnie Suzie Nicole James) out for lunch and an afternoon on the sparkling waters of the Derwent estuary.  Everyone was happy.  The day before, when it was over 40 and very windy, it would have been hell but on Saturday it wasn’t too hot or too cold, nothing went wrong, all was well.

We dropped of our happycampers at the yacht club in Sandy Bay at 5.00 and they all went off to party on dry land while we cruised gracefully back up to Prince of Wales Bay marina.  It was still all sparkly and pretty but…there was a stiff little bit of wind which kept pushing 2XS away from the pontoon.  I managed to leap off, and stood there with a rope in my hands, waiting to put it on the exact designated cleat.  Pete and I have A System.  We weren’t worried, we knew he would be able to manoeuvre the boat back to the pontoon with a bit of luck and a bit less of a fair wind. 

But, as always, people are kind and within seconds Colin, one of our neighbours, was at my side, ready and willing to help.  He rushed back to his boat and got a lovely new boathook, which he used to pull 2XS towards the pontoon.  This did not work… The boat hook broke and, with a loud splashy splash, Colin was in the oily waters of Prince of Wales Bay.  He was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and it was very warm, so he was quite happy, and unhurt.  His dear wife Pamela came out to see what the commotion was about, and she looked at him pensively.  “I don’t suppose that it is the last time you are going to fall off a boat,” she said.  “But…I also don’t suppose you had the car keys in your pocket?”  Yes he did and no he didn’t…the car keys had sunk into the primordial ooze below the boat, never to be seen again.

This was not good news; we were all very downcast.  Colin and Pamela’s car is a brand new Mercedes van, all totally electronic.  No chance of breaking into it with a coat hanger and hotwiring the engine… Colin went off – drip drip – to have a nice hot shower and to change out of his oily clothes while Pete and I tied up the boat – it did eventually submit to our coaxing.  Pete said, “Oh Gawd, I don’t think Colin deserved to break his boat hook, fall in the stinky water and then lose his $800 car keys, when he was just being kind and helpful!’  Indeed he didn’t!

We did manage to make some sort of reparation.  Colin and Pam took Pete’s car to the airport while we were at the circus and they picked up a spare key which had flown, all by itself, from Melbourne.  (As well as this Pete was able to help with a slight glitch, involving loss of steering, on their boat, which I won’t go into at this very moment.)

India #65

I know I have already told you I spent a lot of time making list of Worst Jobs.  Well I found a menial job which would have quite suited me were I an Indian woman of the underclass.  This job involves finding fresh cowpats and moulding them into flat disks, then slapping them onto walls to dry.  The walls look very quaint and rustic with their organic wallcovering, and I know from childhood experience that cowpoo is actually very benign, not at all smelly or yucky like carnivore (dog and cat!) poo.  When the pats are dry, the women pile them into big baskets and carry them home decorously balanced on their heads.  NO they don’t eat the pats, they are for fuel!  (I have since found out there is quite a downside to this practice – the pats burn well but give off a noxious smoke which is very bad for human lungs, and for the atmosphere in general, so maybe it wouldn’t be my favourite job after all…)