The force is with us

 One thing about a multi month moving exercise, having possessions like tools spread across three different physical locations, is that inevitably something you need in one place will be located, probably deep in an unmarked box, in one of the other places.  

When I came to dismantle my canoe kayak rack, I discovered that I had used bugle head screws to attach the cross braces. And of course I had packed the bugle head hexagon fitting for my electric drill in a box, and taken the box to the shed in Williamstown. And which box I could not exactly remember. I resigned myself to buying another and postponing the dismantling job, but, walking back from Coles, head down with a heavy backpack of Christmas supplies, there lying in the middle of the footpath was the exact bit I needed, a bit rusty but perfectly functional.

The chances are beyond my comprehension of finding the exact thing I needed lying in the street on the day I needed it. The deconstruction and moving of the rack proceeded as planned. Feels like the force is with us!

As the twig is bent

 

I cunningly seize every opportunity to sit young Harriet in a boat, shaping those wonderfully receptive neural pathways for a boaty future I hope.  She really enjoyed exploring the little pirogue today, there is something about the contained space and the hatches and storage, even on a little simple boat, that she likes.  

We had our traditional present exchanging over at the Williamstown house this morning, and very pleasant it was too.  The new house is a bit like a holiday house so far, the simplicity and lack of stuff makes it a relaxing place to be. As long as I can avert my gaze from the mass of work to be done.

A new chapter

 

After a cliff hanger of a day with a few hiccups along the way, we got the keys to our little cottage, about 5 minutes before the agent closed. And my word did we get keys - there are a ridiculous number of keys for a little house. Anyway here we are waving regally from the front gate, looking very pleased.

We took over a folding table and some camp chairs, and had inaugural fish and chips in the garden. Jess and Chris and Harriet came over which made it a real occassion.  The end of a very hot day, but the house was fairly cool, thanks to the massive thermal mass in those stone walls, and there was a nice sea breeze in the garden. And the garden is nice. There is a rather stagnant pond, breeding mozzies, and Harriet was magnetically attracted to it. We spent a lot of time steering her away from it, and it will be one of the first things to change I expect, tho we need a bird bath or and some other water source for the local citturs before we fill it in.

The fun has begun. Just do the next thing, I keep telling myself. So far that seems to be working.

Two rescues and a protest

 

I got to the Warmies early on Sunday to launch for the Save our Ships protest sail around at Docklands . As I was getting organised two chaps, Vietnamese maybe, cast off in their fishing boat without starting the engine, which of course did not start. They drifted over onto the rocks opposite, making ineffectual attempts to paddle back. Meanwhile, behind us, about half of Victoria's State Emergency Services had arrived, a sea of high viz, inflatables and aluminium rescue boats were bobbing all around festooned with tinsel, marquees being erected, we had chosen the day and venue  of the SES Christmas party. The SES people studiously ignored the two chaps over on the rocks, so I torqeedoed over, got a line from them and towed them back. "Second time out" one informed me.  I said better get that engine - a stonking great 150 HP beast the size of a bar fridge - serviced before you head out again. 

More SES boats arrived, the chaps tinkered with their engine, then, amid clouds of smoke they set off again, got about 20 metres before the engine died again, and once more they drifted onto the rocks. The SES people looked at their phones, checked their watches, and once again studiously ignored the boat on the rocks. I torqeedoed over and once again towed them back. Chris arrived, we set off, and as we were pottering up the channel, the fishing boat with the two guys passed us. Third time lucky I guess.

We had a nice South Westerly behind us for our trip upriver to Victoria Harbour, so we sailed with first reef in. Theoretically one is supposed to be motor powered, but we were getting over 4 knots against the current and I had the engine ready to go. We got to Docklands early, tied up at a visitor mooring and enjoyed morning tea in the sunshine, watching a 40 foot yacht belonging to a sailing school doing practice mooring while the trainees practiced looping a line over the mooring cleat and looping the line round a winch ... Some got it much better than others.

Eventually some boats turned up, Alma Doepel and Enterprize cast off and we all did a few circuits of the harbour, managing not to run into one another,  all very pleasant if it wasn't so depressing.  Mark took this photo of us taking a photo of Alma Doepel.

Chris clocked from the radio that there was a freighter leaving Webb Dock at 12.30 - he can translate the radio chatter on channel 12 which is incomprehensible to me - so we returned to the visitor berths for lunch. Graham joined us. It was a nice lunch spot. 

After lunch Graham blasted off in his little pedal drive canoe, into the headwind and adverse current. While we could motor sail, we almost caught him, once we were head to wind he left us far behind. He can sustain round 4 knots, which is very impressive.  We managed to get up river and around and back on one battery with a bit still to spare. It was a good day. Made me realise how much I miss being on the water. Once these cycles of buying/selling/downsizing are over, I hope I can get in some sailing time. But first, gotta get all this done, no slacking till it's over.

Post and short video of the day here:

https://www.facebook.com/share/v/1BaUBEWvM6/

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily ...

 

The weather this November has been very unsettled, so I don't feel I am missing too much sailing.  But I do miss being on the water. This morning there was a predicted stretch of winds round 10 knots, coinciding with a high tide, coinciding with Anne going out, so Oz and I wheeled Barca down to the nearby revetment beach for a test outing.

All systems worked well. The bicycle wheel trolley worked very well.  The tyre wheels get over the sand ok, the friction is low so it is really no harder than walking, and there was plenty of water to launch in.  The boat is relatively light so getting off and back onto the trolley is easy. We rowed round to the dog beach, about 1.4 kilometres. My watch, if I can somehow manage to press the magic combination of buttons, records an impressive series of stats - stroke rate (25 per minute) average moving pace  (round 4 kilometres or a bit over 2 knots per hour), heart rate, even the track. I can see the heart rate and stroke rate go up as I row like crazy across the entrance to the safe harbour, trying not to get run down by the stink boats who have a very liberal interpretation of the 5 knot speed limit and the concept of giving way.

We landed on the dog beach. Unfortunately there were no other dogs there for Oz to impress with his nautical sea dog arrival, but he had a good sniff and explore anyway. 

We picked up various floating bits of plastic, chip packets and other crap as we went along, and said hello to the juvenile Pacific gull that has taken up residence on Frank's boat. I remember when there was quite a fleet of boats moored here, now only one left.

It was a nice row there and back, apart from the stink boats and one moron on a jet ski doing donuts right in front of the harbour entrance. (Why can't they go and be idiots far far away I wonder?)  I am learning to not try too hard rowing Barca. A relaxed easy stroke seems to push it along as well as it is ever going to go, no point wasting effort. 

Oz seemed pretty pleased with the outing, and I certainly was.  I have been thinking more about row boats as a longer term prospect. There is a lot to be said for light, simple, and  fast to get on the water. I will be interested to see how getting to the water and launching a works out when we move. Anyway, I am glad I built little Barca, I am very happy with that little boat. This morning was only a couple of hours door to water to door, but I felt like I had been somewhere. 

Adaptions

 Snapper season has hit with a vengeance. The local ramp carpark is overflowing with monster 4 wheel drives, people parking everywhere, queues of stink boats coming and going on the jetties. Friday I was thinking of getting the SCAMP out, but even on a Friday it was way too busy for me.  I have decided to avoid the little local beach for a while as well, as the last few times I have launched there, I have had run ins with people invading our local seal's personal space.  So, what to do?

I have been reading Colin and Julie Angus's book "Rowed Trip" which recounts their journey from Scotland to Syria using rowboats where the waterways are possible, or towing the rowboats behind them with bicycles.

Their expedition rowboats are three times longer than Barca, and loaded with camping stuff must be at least three times heavier. But they were probably a third of my age when they made the trip, so I figured it all should sort of even out - a bike trailer for Barca should work.  As part of our downsizing I have been looking darkly at Ozzie's bike trailer, thinking it needs to go. But then it occurred to me it might make a good trailer for Barca. And what do you know, with a few modifications like a longer drawbar,  it does!

Road trials so far are good, it works, I can get down to the revetment beach no worries. I will just have to pick the tides.

I should really not have been faffing round with this, with so many jobs to do on the downsizing moving project, but I told myself it is an adaption that will get me through Snapper season without too much aggravation, hopefully, and it will be very useful in our new place where there water is all a bit further away. 

Downsizing

 One dimension I had not anticipated with downsizing is all the strange shreds of the past that get unearthed as you sift through the nooks and crannies where you have hidden stuff.

I am working through a bag that my brother Mike passed onto me, that I have never really looked at. My mum's water colours, dad's degrees, his B Ed thesis on teaching mathematics, pages from  my great great great grandparents Bible...

Three Harriet's on one page, nice to see our little Harriet continuing the line.

There are my paternal grandfather's papers from his houseboat Waterlilly that the family used to sail around Shanghai around 1917.

Thanks to the marvels of Google translate, I can see this is telling officials that Hardy Gu, my grandfather, is a gentleman of good character, and instructing that he should be treated with courtesy.  There are other papers listing all the places not to go thanks to martial law and civil unrest ... Makes sailing on the Bay look very tame.

And there are my disgraceful records of wooden boat association committee meetings.

I do suspect my heart is not really in committee work. 

So much stuff, the thinking about it is harder than actually doing something with it. 

But, we are making progress. Derry went off to a new home, to live in a neat, dry garage with a Eureka canoe for company and a nice young family ... Better than being out in the rain being crapped on by possums, but still a lot of good memories going with her.  Ewaste collection at the council depot today, a pile of stuff gone. Poisons collection next weekend. More books to the Brotherhood...

I wake up at around 1 am most mornings, and often can't get back to sleep as my head starts running through all of the things, a lot to process.  

It seems overwhelming but if we keep on chipping away, just doing the next thing, with luck we will come out the other side.