A Day on the Blue.

Granny & Oskar deep in conversation.


Tender rides.


Cold to the core.


Dan the Man.


Approaching Sorrento pier to collect my sister Em & girls.


anna.lord photography


Sister Em & Cooks.


Xave.


Anna & Em.


??????


The importance of being Ebba.


Glass.

Yesterday we finally enjoyed a day on the water. Whilst Anna, Em & I kid wrangled, Xave, Dan and Mum sailed Awaitea to Sorrento and back.

Xave said his worst dreams had just been realised.... that I wasn't interested in sailing.

Xave, for the record, I would MUCH RATHER SAIL THAN WRANGLE CHILDERBEASTS.

We had a such a lovely day. Thanks everyone.

Travel Widget.

From here to here.

A 4 yr old pirate's life.

Roo: Where's me jacket?

Al: Where's my jacket.

Roo: No, where's me jacket. I'm a pirate Mum, pirates say me not my.

Fair enough me hearty.


(pic anna.lord)

Dizzy

... not in a whirly kinda way, but in a beloved pet kinda way.






Dizzy is a member of our family, we've had her since she was a pup and love her very much. She is not a perfect dog, her only training coming from our enormous German Shorthaired Pointer, Doug, who taught her to jump with great gusto into the surf, & swim like a fish (or a Pointer at least). She will sit, etc, and do all the usual things dogs do to make us happy.

It has always been our intention to take her with us on our adventure, and along with us, has spent the last 7 weeks adapting to life afloat. Unfortunately, she has no escape from the dreaded clutches of our daughter. Cooks LOVES her so much, and consequently will not leave her alone. Dizz feels imprisoned.

So after much deliberation, we have decided that [Cooks will have to go and live with someone else. 3 year old girls are entirely too difficult to raise and cannot be reasoned with] Dizz will be happier in a garden, on land - with an escape route. Our generous and lovely dog loving friends have offered to love her in their home, and their garden.

We have commenced week one of our trial separation. I feel sad, and overwhelmingly guilty.

Winter.

We had a lovely morn hanging out at Anna's place playing cubbies and generally just rolling around on the floor, doing carpet angels, covering as much ground as possible. Flinging our arms as wide as can be and marvelling at the fact that our fingers aren't touching walls/ ceiling/ floor.

Space is a marvellous thing. (What do you do when you see a space man? Park in it man.).

LOVE SPACE.

Anyway, as is the custom of pretty much every day of the past 7 weeks, after our morning excursion, the kids, dog, and I have to get from car to boat, in the pouring rain and driving wind. As is the custom, Cooks has probably just fallen asleep, ever the queen of timing, and we've accumulated several bags of varying shapes and sizes, all of which need to be transported onto Awaitea.

As is the custom, I for some reason do not want to make 2 trips.

So today, we arrived at the harbour, it is pissing down and windy of course. I loaded Roo up with 2 backpacks and a bag. Dizzy is running around the carpark trying to get hit by a car, Cooks is mostly asleep on my shoulder, along with my handbag and another bigger bag, and an umbrella, trying to shield her from the rain. We stagger through the weather, to the security gate, as I fumble for my security gate thingo, I turn around and notice Dizzy shitting right in front of customers in the cafe, thanks Dizz, we get through the gate, I slip on the ramp and pull a muscle, the umbrella is blown inside out and pokes Cooks in the head, forcibly waking her up (&%$#@). We arrive at the boat with cranky sleep deprived daughter with bump on head from umbrella, and Roo grinning from ear to ear at how wet we are and at how hilarious the umbrella looks inside out. Hilarious.

and I, make my second trip anyway. To pick up the dog shit. Beauty.

Q & A II

Why are we still in Queenscliff?

R: because the boat hasn't been finished yet.

Is Daddy a good fisherman?

C: Yes, he catches stings.
R: Yes, because he tries his hardest.

Does he ever catch any?

R: No.

What is the bilge?

R: Where dad says he's going to put Cookie when she's naughty.

What is the anchor?

R: The anchor is something that goes in the water.

What is the radar?

R: tells us that there's rocks in front of the boat, and lots of things in front of the boat that can break the metal off.

What is a fish finder?

R: a bird.

What sort of bird?

R: a pelican.

What do we do at 4.45pm?

R: Disco Inferno.
C: Dance.

What's your favourite song?

The every people song that live in every country.

Who Cooks on the boat?

R: Daddy

Why doesn't mum cook?

R: because she isn't a chef.

HAH!

Quick Picks.

Awaitea - almost ready...




Jesse preparing to scale the mast (in 25k ish winds) to give us a hand.


up, up and...


away. possibly up there longer than he'd anticipated! Thanks Jesse.


Roo LOVING the top bunk.


Cookie, beachcombing.

The Drunken Sailor

So we've been aboard Awaitea for about 7 weeks give or take.

Rocking is now 'normal'.

Today at the play centre with the kids, I almost fell over.

From standing still.

People must have thought I was pissed.

Sleepless in Queenscliff.

Well that was fun.

NOT.

It started with a forecast, then a radio host asking for caller updates. Everyone was being VERY dramatic. I started freaking out in anticipation. So I text messaged my fear to the radio host. She mentioned me 'freaking out' on air (and told me it might not be necessary to freak out). Roo heard it and thought it was wonderful that she mentioned us, (and then suggested "Lindy might like to talk about when Cookie was on her scooter and did a somersault over Dizzy"). Maybe not Rooey...


5.00pm: Xave put a couple of extra fenders on and tied up the wind generator and radar. Just in case.

1.00am: Holy Moly What the hell is that?

1.15am: Xave goes up on deck to check things. I sit on step watching and making sure he isn't blown overboard.

1.25am: Xave comes back below.

1.40am: We notice through our cabin window the oar on the tender about to be blown away.

1.41am: Xave goes back on deck.

etc etc until about 4am (thx for your regular txt's through the wee hours Anna). Was pretty exciting,

We're a bit tired today, BUT THE KIDS SLEPT THROUGH THE LOT. Little legends.

Nativitis.

Possibly the very very VERY best shoe for a boat. Ever.

So if you've read any of this blog, you'll know I've got a [slight] thing for shoes.

Slight.

You'll know that I had to seriously cull my shoe haul to fit in out floating caravan. (MIght I add at this point, that Xave has practically more shoes than I've brought along)

Anyway....

In my never ending quest for the quirk - I stumbled across these little rippers. They are so up a yacht goer's alley, so fit for aquatic adventure, so perfect for perfecting 'the look' of a mariner..

They are NATIVE shoes, and I reckon they're ace.

The only problem with these little beauties, is that I had to buy them from the other side of the globe, (no Aussie supplier yet) and the only site which didn't want to charge me MORE for postage than the actual shoe, didn't have the colour I REALLY wanted.

Galliano yellow.

Did I mention Galliano yellow?

Size W7.

Galliano.

Sigh. LOVE these shoes.

www.nativeshoes.com

Un-Slipping.

We put Awaitea back in the water today (HOOOOORAY). Cooks & I watched from the sidelines - she completely oblivious to what was going on, but me with my heart in my mouth / stomach in my mouth / mouth in my heart / foot in my mouth - (SHITTING MYSELF).

If the truth be told, I'm a bit of a chicken. I'm full of bravado on the outside, but it's all rubbish. Utter rot. I am such a terrible chook.

I tend to slink off during the scary bit. It's not that I don't trust Xave's mooring skills, (as limited as they may be), it's just that manoeuvring a 25 tonne steel yacht in a tight space surrounded by valuable yachts and the like pretty much FREAKS ME OUT!

It reminded me of a time many years ago, when my family and I all went on a boating holiday in the Gippsland Lakes aboard an almighty houseboat. One day, we pulled into the pier by the pub in Metung, for supplies and the like. With an onshore wind, the docking was fine. Easy. It was just the pulling out bit that was a bit tricky. So off we went, farewelled by a full beer garden of pub goers enjoying the afternoon sunshine and a few beers, problem was, with this serious wind, the minute we pulled out, we were pushed, practically side on towards the very beer garden we'd just frequented, and also towards a clearly valuable yacht, which our 'bruiser' would have done some serious damage to. Whilst my family scrambled maniacally about on deck with fenders, boat hooks, etc, I scurried away below decks, dying of embarrassment, hiding from the alarmed and amused pub goers, who were all hooting ferociously by this stage. Thankfully, my brother in law took the helm and managed to some how navigate us out of the danger zone and off into the haven (and anonymity) of the lakes.

My sudden disappearance did not go unnoticed however, and I was teased relentlessly (and rightly so) for the duration of the trip. That's how I remember it anyway. My family might remember otherwise…

Coming back to the present though, Xave negotiated the harbour today with ease and skill, and reversed our yacht, gently & calmly, into her new mooring. Beautifully done Xave.

It'll be up to US - that's Xave & ME - to do this in the future.

Therefore there'll be no slinking off for me, I'll actually have to suck up my fear, and perform.... and the chicken inside, no doubt, will be clucking frantically throughout.