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.

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. ...)