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.

Q & A

What are the slips?

R: the slips are somebody that fixes boats.
C: the things with the things with the top thing with the lights, that's the slips.

Why is the boat on the slips?

C: coz Daddy's working on it, putting the lips on.

Where are we going on our boat?

R: to Sydney, I think.
C: no, to Melbourne.

Where do you keep your toys?

R: um, in the cupboard next to Cookie's bed.
C: in the front room.

What are you looking forward to the most?

R: um, going and sailing to make new friends, going to Wiggle World, um, and I really want to go to Sydney so I can go live in an apartment.
C: Sailing. Riding on a horsey with a stick, last day.

What does the windmill on the top do?

R: charges the um electricity up from the lights
C: spin around.

What's the head?

R: the front cabin.
C: um, the windmill.

What's the galley?

R: um, the kitchen, I think.
C: it's the fence.

What's the best thing about the boat?

R: my top cabin bed. Bunk.
C: Teddys. Dinner. Water.

(Still on slips, hoping to get the last 2 coats of paint on - and cured - before the rain sets in. ...)

Slipping.

In the sling, being lifting out of the water. Breath holding stuff...


Not too bad considering 18 months in the drink.


A friend recently stated 'have they given up already?' - and judging by recent posts, perhaps it was a fair call.

We're having a short stay on terra firma, whilst Awaitea gets her belly cleaned & painted. Routine work involving antifoul and anodes, and whilst it does feel luxurious to have carpet underfoot, central heating, and a flushing toilet, I AM missing the boat & the harbour - the gentle sway of the current, the whirring of the wind gen (seriously), and the clinking of the stays on the mast.....

I gave Cookie a giant koala bear hug last night, and she was wearing her pj's from the boat. She smelt like the boat, she had a hint of diesel, and as peculiar as it sounds, she smelt like home.

The problem with poo.

We don't have a poo tank. Yet. We will have. But just not yet.

Our current harbour living, means that if one needs to poo, one must high tail it to the nearby amenties. Now that is all very well if one is a 'grown up', and can hold on. Unfortunately, this isn't often the case when you're 3. (or 4, or even from time to time, 40).

Wee is fine in the boat toilet, poo is not. There are currently only a couple of people living aboard boats here, so if a poo floats by, it's really not much of a secret whose it is.

Now, we've told the kids, NOT to poo in the toilet.

Under NO circumstances, are they to poo in the toilet.
To poo, is taboo.

Roo gets this.

Unfortunately, (but not surprisingly), a certain young lady doesn't. Or doesn't want to get it more to the point.

She knows that it's taboo, so doesn't actually tell me when she has. This means, that when I go to the toilet, way too often, I discover an illicit poo.

At this point, I am faced with 2 choices: 1. pretend I haven't noticed it, and wait for Xave to discover it 'first'. or 2. Deal with it.
Dealing with it means, picking it up, popping it in a bag, and taking it to a public loo to dispose of. GROSS. I know this, because this is what I generally end up doing.

I think a bit of subliminal learning is in order here, so tonight, when she's asleep, I think I'm going to whisper, ever so quietly and insistently : to poo, is taboo. to poo, is taboo. to poo, is taboo.....

Overboard Tally.

1. Dizzy (smartly retrieved in manner of scruff of the neck haulage)
2. Cup (deliberately flung overboard by Miss Cooks).

I will continue to tally the overboard happenings throughout our trip.

I am looking however for a widget which is updatable to keep on my homepage, but can't seem to find / create one.
Anyone out there far more clever than I?

Captain Cookie celebrates 3 years!

Putting her makeup on for her big day!



Red balloons adorn Awaitea.



Friends at the Queenscliff playspace.



Art and birthday cards decorate the saloon.




Captain Cooks has celebrated her 3rd birthday (albeit a day early, weather tmw is forecast to be rubbish) aboard Awaitea.

The upside of being delayed, is that she got to celebrate with all her (our) beautiful family and friends. Thanks everyone for a great morning. x