Sunday 18^th December

So lovely to be home

So busy to be home…

We have spent a couple of wonderful nights at Katy and Jeff’s, with the darling small children, all full of fun and cleverness and love.

Yesterday we went to a fabulous 70^th birthday party near Bothwell, in a marquee on the lawns of a beautiful old house.  There were about 130 guests – I knew four; Pete knew one hundred and twenty four.  Pete did very well remembering people from the snows of yesterday; I did very well getting to know a whole new tribe.

After the lunch, I drove us to Sendace, the lovely little Headlam farm on Meadowbank Lake.  James had left the caravan set up for us but we arrived there after dark, around 10.00pm (it was a long long lunch…) and Pete and I had an entertaining time traipsing to and fro with long connecting cords to get electricity from the pump station.

The caravan was very cosy, notwithstanding the slight list to the left.  I had a moment of deep shame when I burst into tears at the sight of a quite small and young huntsman spider roaming the walls.  (Oh not so brave…)

We drove into Ouse for a hearty breakfast at the roadhouse, then went back to drench sheep and chase them around into different paddocks according to…well according to the colour of the wool and the state of their shorn-ness.  (I think…) 

All a long world away from Sailing2XS!  Bronwen and I did have some boat-y time cleaning James’s little runabout.  It has been stored in a farm shed and has provided boundless merry entertainment for a generation of possums, which have pooed, scratched, tumbled and rioted amongst the fittings.  We armed ourselves with hoses and buckets of soapy water and – improvement!

Back to Tales of Our South Pacific

The South Pacific islands, and sometimes the villages on larger islands, seem to have been dealt out amongst the religions like a pack of cards.  They all co-exist quite amicably, and, what seems more remarkable to us, is that they have kept a lot of their ancient beliefs very comfortably alongside whatever brand of Christianity has come their way – Catholics, Seventh Day Adventists, Church of Christ, Anglicans, Baptists, Jehovah’s Witnesses, the whole gamut of quirky brands and beliefs.  They still absolutely believe in black magic, in appeasing their local gods of nature, in all manner of superstition and tradition.

Come to think of it, even small villages would sometimes have more than one religion happening at once.  Sunday services would occur simultaneously, with the congregations singing, in their beautiful harmonies, at each end of the village, more or less in competition.  Pete and I think that Christianity is so successful in the islands because the people just love to sing.  Services usually last two hours or more, and 75% of the time is spent in Hallelujah!  Praise the Lord! in glorious harmony.  The sermons are all along the same lines – be kind to one another!  Or so we gathered… We sat through a few services, conducted by very lively and animated young Father Keith, or Father Eustace, mostly in local tribal language, or in Pidgin, and be kind to one another seemed to be the main theme.  Fair enough, couldn’t agree more!

Friday 16^th December

Back (briefly) in Tasmania, safe in the bosom of our families…

I still have a few sailing the South Pacific stories…

Panapompom

When we were cruising around the beautiful Louisiades, Rachel and I were very taken with the sound of an island we could see on the map – Panapompom.  How cute is that for a name!  It wasn’t on our route, and we were a bit sad not to go somewhere so whimsical and magical.

On our last evening in the bay at Bagaman Island, we had a visit from Sam, one of our passengers to and from Bugoiya.  Sam, probably the oldest of our crew, had been very reticent and circumspect on the trip, but on our last day, he came to visit, bearing gifts – tomatoes and a pawpaw – and sat on deck drinking a very sweet hot chocolate drink.  He was very happy and entertained Rachel and me with his wordplay jokes.  “What letters are there in the moon?” he asked, eyes bright.  We did all the usual things – “M-O-O-N?”  “T-H-E-M-O-O-N?” and let him come to his punchline – “C-O-D!  You have to look at the moon all though the month, and you will see those letters!”  He was so very pleased with himself; he reminded me very much of my “granny” Angus aged 9; this is just the sort of joke he would invent.  It was actually very clever of Sam; he has hardly had any schooling, but he can make spelling jokes in English.

We decided to ask him about Panapompom – what did this name mean?  “Oh,” he said, looking a bit grim.  “Panapompom is the name of a disease you get, where your legs swell up.”  (Elephantiasis, I reckon.)  “You get this disease,” he continued, “when you have been lying to your wife about having sex with another woman.  This is very common, on that island.” 

Oh.  So much for the romance of Panapompom!!

It was Sam who, later, let slip the common name for white people in the Louisiades.  We had never heard it; they would usually say, “Europeans,” or “your wantoks.”  But Sam let the cat out of the bag.  He was talking about carvings – he does very beautiful ones.  We asked if they were used for traditional purposes and he said, dismissively, “Oh no, they are just for selling to Dim-Dims.  Rachel and I turned questioning eyes on him: “To whom??” and he looked a bit sheepish.  “Um…you know…white people.  Dim-Dims.”  Somehow I don’t think it is a flattering epithet…

Wednesday 11^th December 12.50

We are now on the Gold Coast, living as housepests in Runaway Bay.  Cam, Pete’s lifelong friend, and Del, Pete’s lifelong cousin, are very kind and hospitable and are not making us feel like housepests at all.  But there are responsibilities and duties associated with being, well, housepests, and these do not include sneaking off to play on one’s computer, writing blogs and looking at emails.

We are now on board 2XS, in Sanctuary Cove Marina, cleaning, scrubbing, bleaching, de-moulding, tidying.  A massive job!  I have actually finished all of my tasks, well by my standards, I have… I am sitting, exhausted, and very happy, at my computer – at last!  Pete is under the boat in the tender, scrubbing away at all of the black slime and green grass and rusty bits growing around the hulls.  I am, as we speak, trying to entice him out with promises of a lovely seafood meal at nearby George’s paragon Restaurant…

I have possibly, in the past, been a bit critical of the Gold Coast.  It is all lovely, sparkling, new, impressive, but just not my sort of town.  I prefer more diversity, maybe, and feel more at home in cities with a bit of scunge and grunge.  I am, however, inordinately impressed with Sanctuary Cove.  It is just beautiful.  We drove in yesterday, through an avenue of immaculate trees, spaced just the right distance apart, with beautiful modern sculptures along the nature strip, suggesting, but not imitating, huge tropical flowers.  We passed a most glorious collection of houses on the shores of an artificial lake.  The house were all stark white and square, a bit Mediterranean, with lovely irregular lattice-work framing the front decks.  Elegant, graceful and serene.  Wow and wow again!

Our kind friends Tim and Sally Hadrill have lent us their ute.  “Yes please feel free to drive our uterus; it is a bit dodgy but quite safe,” said Tim.  And it is indeed a bit eccentric; for example every now and then a shrill little alarm goes off, alerting us to the fact that the handbrake is and that we should let it off IMMEDIATELY.  I have devised various stratagems to convince the ute that we are complying although, of course, the handbrake isn’t on at all.  (Some of my stratagems make Pete gasp and stretch his eyes, mind you, so maybe I should leave the handbrake entirely to its own devices.)  We left the ute here, under some shady green trees, amongst enormous yellow and orange tropical flowers, and went back to Runaway Bay with Cam, to get the boat from the Broadwater, where it had been anchored.

Wednesday 11^th December 2.50

Well golly and gosh – Pete appeared from under the boat, looking exhausted and hungry.  (And I might add, he should have been looking very pleased with himself – the hulls are squeaky clean and beautiful, no longer full of green, black, rust, slime.)  He agreed that yes! we should go to George’s Paragon Restaurant now now now!  And what a good idea that was – thank you Cam for the recommendation!  We had the most cheery Samoan waiter, with the hugest smile – “So nice to see you again!” he beamed.  (We didn’t have the heart to tell him we were, ummm, somebody else.)  I had barramundi with avocado, Pete had John Dory Meuniere.  And both of our meals were wonderful – perfectly cooked fish with delicious sauces, not overpowering, served with broccolini and rocket, and bowls of thinly sliced chips, which I TRIED not to eat.

Our last trip down from Brisbane to the Gold Coast was beautiful, and uneventful.  Except that – Pete saw another dugong!  He has gone from being Dugong Denier to Dugong Believer, if not Dugong Attenborough!  We wound our way through the maze of islands in the Broadwater, around Jumpinpin, and negotiated the many red, yellow and green markers with no great incident.  I was at the helm a lot of the way and managed OK, although I was, unaccountably, particularly tired and out of sorts.  I hope I didn’t convey any of this malaise to Pete, who was as happy and cheery as usual.  This has all passed, and now I am happy and feeling good again, even though I have been through another Haircut Ordeal…

Oh not kind of me… Del knew I wanted to get my hair cut and she kindly rang her local HairGirl, Vinnie, who travels with gear.  Vinnie arrived bright and early this morning, wielding scissors, and full of fresh medical ghastlinesses and a big abdominal scar to show me.  I am sure she has done a good job; my hair was just growing right down into my eyes and out of shape.  But of course it is always, for me, a stressful thing to have my hair cut… I prefer the dentist, at least there I can have gas and go into HappyWorld.  Pete had been on an excursion with Cam and arrived back in time to have his hair cut – by me, not Vinnie – with Cam’s electrical gadget.  We will both be tidy for Christmas!

Off back to Runaway Bay when Pete has packed his backpack… I hope we get there in time to have a swim in the lovely clean warm pool.  Very soothing, to be able to swim every day.  I have been missing my wonderful hours of snorkelling in tropical waters.  All those stingers and crocs in Queensland are very offputting!

Sunday 11^th December

Another huge great thunder storm is about to come crashing down upon our heads.  Not as much lighting as yesterday, in Mooloolabah, (yes I know I put too many OOs into this name yesterday…but I couldn’t help myself) but the sky is black and threatening and there are ominous rumblings.  We are safely tucked up in a marina in the Brisbane River, just near the Gateway Bridge.  We arrived about 2pm, and have just enough time to do our washing, have a shower, and catch up with Kerry. 

It was very interesting coming up the river – all industrial, with huge cranes and derricks, ships loading coal, oil, whatever.  We were very lucky that today happens to be Sunday and that it’s not very busy; otherwise we would have been playing dodgem cars again.

Our trip from Mooloolabah was wonderful.  The sea was silky smooth and calm, the wind blowing very faintly and not against us.  Not too far to go; all very dreamy.

Kerry has arrived and is having beer with Pete, listening to the thunder, and I am dashing back and forth to the laundry.  I am thrilled to bits because, for the first time ever, the washing facilities are FREE!  No having to find coins or tokens, and lots of them.  I am washing everything I can lay my hands on.

Tomorrow – the Gold Coast!

Saturday 10^th December 

So where are we?? Can I remember where we were, where we are??

Moolooloobah!  Town of many OOOOs!

We had a lovely evening with Anne and Alan Bray, yesterday.  We were expecting to invite them to a restaurant near the marina, but when Pete got in touch with Anne, she was adamant that she wanted us to come to dinner.  Nothing too much trouble - she would come and pick us up from the marina, and we could take a taxi back.  Lasagna and apple pie were there for our taking!  (Alan was on his way back from his bowls tournament.) 

Dinner was great fun.  Alan brought out a notebook with all of his Tasmanian students over the years, at Tas uni - my very own darling father has a similar ledger, of his students over the years… There was a very young Pete Headlam, in the 60s, with a blue pencil through his name – destined for Honours!  Pete and Alan happily went through names - Golly gosh!  Did he really?  Whatever happened to HER? etc etc while Anne and I happily created a salad to go with the lasagna and, well, chatted, with much laughter. 

(I had forgotten, by the way, that Bray Boys were at school with Harmsen Boys; Taroona High Happy Days.) 

The Bray news is – Anne and Alan are planning to sell their comfortable little Harvey Bay house, and are moving to Brisbane, to be closer to children and grandchildren, all in their late teens now.  Wynnum is their suburb of choice.  Anne said ,proudly, that her son said, “Mum, you need to be near us, in Wynnum.  Don’t think of buying anywhere further away!  I need to be able to drive to your place quickly, to wipe the drool off your chin!”  Anne and I shrieked with laughter – how nice to be so loved by our offspring!

Alan was very pleased to hear of my fishing exploits, and he very kindly gave me a shining new silver lure, with which to catch – BIG fish.

We slept VERY well, possibly thanks to the home-made Bray limoncello…

So this morning…early rising… I had the alarm set for 5.45 but, oh dear, we woke earlier and we were up and away away with rum by gum at a hideously early hour.

First – through the Sandy Straits, between Fraser Island and the mainland.  Easy-peasy! Pete had timed our move accurately and we went with the tide.  Nowhere near as difficult as last year, with a lot of stress involved in finding each green and red marker along the way.  We emerged at the other end around 10.00 and crossed the bar in fine style.  WEEHEE!  Well dozen Pete, yet again…

My log entries read: headsail up, headsail down, headsail up, headsail down, headsail up, headsail down.  But at last – the sea was with us, the wind was, gloriously, briefly NE instead of southerly.  It was a lovely day, from Urangan to Moolooloobah, but…very very long…

We cruised into the river at Moolooloobah at dusk.  It had been spectacular, the last hour, sailing into the city.  The sun was setting brightly on one side; on the other side were black BLACK clouds.  The high-rise buildings looked like magical fair castles in the fading light.  And then!  Thunderbolts and lightning very very frightening!!  Great forks of lightning were sparking down over the city.  Then HUGE thunderbolts. Wowsers!

We were planning on finding an anchorage in the Moolooloobah river; we really didn’t need a marina, tonight.  Quick in quick out. 

So…we eventually…it did take a long time…cruised into the river, between the retaining walls built up at the entrance.  And…Three?  Four?  No SIX fishing boats were coming out, coming RIGHT AT US.  Some of them had lights, fairy lights, Santa costumes… WTF?  All the way up the esplanade were people sitting expectantly, with folding chairs, picnic tables, gaiety abounding.  What did they want from us? We were tired, shabby, salty, NOT decorated and pretty.  It dawned on us…we were the avant garde of the Moolooloobah River Christmas parade!  Very soon we were in the midst of jaunty, pretty boats, with pretty people wearing Santa and Elf costumes.  I said to Pete, “Surely you have an elf-hat somewhere on board, with bobbles and sparkles?  Put it on RIGHT NOW!”  (He wasn’t listening to me, he was grinding his teeth and trying to wend his way between the festive Christmas boats to find an anchorage.)

In between this and that I had peeled and chopped and prepared dinner: a very delicious, I hoped, pasta dish with prawns, mushrooms, garlic, chili, creamy sauce.  Well…it all got interrupted with NEAR COLLISIONS and UPPINGS of ANCHOR…but in the end we did eat and drink and were merry.  My prawn thingy wasn’t as fabulous as I might have hoped…but we were VERY hungry and we ate our fill. And…guess what is for dinner tomorrow?? Left-overs!

The last of the Christmas boats has just gone past us.  Gangs of girls, in fairy-lit boats, saying, “Well, I’m like...and then he said…and I was like…whatever!”  Very brave, these last Christmas Boat Pageant survivors.  Because not long not after the event began, it started to – well rain is the wrong word. POUR!  TEEM!  DELUGE!!  Not for very long, but surely for long enough to clear the esplanade of happy spectators…

Now all is calm and all is well.  Not sure what time we are leaving in the morning but I suspect…EARLY!  I think we have two more days to get to the Gold Coast, where 2XS will be left for a few weeks while we…do other things!!

Friday 9^th December

A lovely day on the water…once again, the sea calm and blue (the current tugging us in the opposite direction but never mind…), the wind a gentle zephyr (still blown in the wrong direction but, once again, never mind…)

We left Burnett Heads at about seven and arrived here in Urangan, in Hervey Bay, at the very civilised hour of 4pm.  We are hoping to meet up with Anne and Alan Bray, who live hereabouts.  We spent an afternoon with them last year and very much enjoyed their company.  Alan was one of Pete’s lecturers at uni, back in the 60s.  Anne is a very lively woman, full of laughter and opinions.  I am looking forward to seeing her again.  She amused me very much last year, by telling me that she hadn’t wanted to meet me at all.  “I said to Alan, I’m not interested!  Pete has probably taken up with a FLOOZY!”  I said, “Well what makes you think I’m not?” and she, in her turn, found this very funny.

We couldn’t remember where the ablutions block was, although it isn’t very long since we were last here.  I wandered right past it and found a little late-afternoon market which made me very happy.  It was full of things you would never want to buy – bad art, knick-knacks, lurid fish sculptures, handbags made out of jeans bottoms - and the scent of patchouli and incense wafted through the air.  I went into the small chemist shop to buy some essentials, and was greeted by the most friendly pharmacist ever.  He was a plump, bouncy Korean Australian, with the broadest North Queensland accent imaginable.  As he was giving me my change, I asked him, idly, if he knew where the marina ablutions block was.  He was mortified that he didn’t know, and I had to do some fast talking to stop him from shutting up shop and bounding around the waterfront in search of toilets and showers for his customer.

Thursday 8^th December

So did we spend an idle day, sipping cups of tea and ambling around beautiful Seventeen Seventy while the forecast gale force winds lashed the coast?  Well no.

I woke at about 6.30 to find Pete bustling about, ready to GO GO GO!!  He had put a placatory cup of tea in the bedroom for me and said, cheerily, that the wind didn’t seem to be too bad at all and that we should go while the going was good.

And what happened??  Well we had the best day’s sailing since have been back in Australian waters… The sky was blue and full of puffy white clouds; the sea was azure in colour and gentle in demeanour.  And the wind…well it was still coming from the wrong direction, ie SE, but it was all very mild.  At about midday there was a special weather bulletin on the radio – cancelling the gale-force wind warning.

We did get to see 1770 from the coast, and it does look like a very pretty little holiday town, with thick lush bush, beautiful houses, rolling hills, dear little beaches.  As for the fearsome bar with its rolling, breaking waves – well it was fearsome yesterday.  Today – what bar?  Just smooth, mellow water and some marker buoys.

We are now, happily and uneventfully, attached to Orange arm of the Bundaberg Marina, at the mouth of the Burnett River.  Both fuel tanks are full, Pete is having a beer, and I am about to have a lovely shower.

All is well!  And tomorrow – another easy trip, to Urangan, in Hervey Bay.