I was reflecting on a brilliant day I had a couple of weeks ago and pondering on what made it so good. We truly have brilliant friends. Perhaps as we get older we are becoming wiser with who we share our time with. They say a burden shared is a burdened halved. What I know to be true is if you are wise with the company you choose, you can transform the burden into a joy. This is what transpired on that brilliant day.
We are settling in well on the boat. It has been easier than expected on all counts. We still have the massive task of emptying the “shoe shed” of boxes. Even typing that sentence, I feel my energy and enthusiasm wane.
To the rescue came Bill.
Bill and my sister (better friends and helpers you could not ask for) helped us with the enormous task of getting out of the house. Bill foolishly offered to help me empty some boxes that we have in the shed. It was a genuine offer that I jumped on. I had managed to empty four boxes the previous weekend on my own and it was like my feet were made of concrete and my mind seemed to slow with each decision I had to make. Now, I can’t remember what was in them. Additionally, I was able to consolidate like items from two boxes into one. As I transferred spirit bottles from two now half empty boxes into one box, I wondered somewhat rhetorically where did all those missing bottles go?
Preparation on said day consisted of scooting around the marina to get some coffees. Wolff coffee to be precise.
Bill arrived at the marina gate and I jumped in his car to undertake “mission coffee”.
He queried me, somewhat surprised, “What, we can’t walk there?” I pointed to the Quarterdeck restaurant across the marina channel and said, “You can if you can walk on water.” To which Bill replied, “I can’t, the nail-holes in my feet let the water in!” I knew we were going to have a fun afternoon. What more do you need other than good friends and coffee!
We drove out of our secure gate around the corner and in through the marina’s main entrance. It is an amazing shipyard, with many and varied businesses and retail outlets that support this cool hub we find ourselves in. Having passed the business offices we then pass the sheds. Some boats are“on the hard”, some out in the open, some under cover. We were so busy gawking that we almost missed a dog-leg around some traffic cones before parking next to the restaurant.
We ordered our coffees to go and looked out over the deck back towards Saboteur and in doing so Bill gained his bearings.
Armed with our coffees we re-traced our movements back to Saboteur. We climbed on board and gave Martin his coffee and sat to chat. The boat was in a gentle rolling pattern, so small that I almost don’t notice it anymore. This pattern gets the occasional disrupt with each passing boat. There were not many of these today. It was remarkably quiet for a public holiday that was heading for beautiful 27 degrees C. Not bad for winter. I am embracing the weather.
Bill sat back and said, “What’s that creaking noise?”
To which I replied, “Sit back, my friend, and relax – Saboteur is talking to you”. In return he said, “It is a language I don’t understand”. To which we all laughed and Martin explained the boat fender was passively bemoaning the pressure of Saboteur moving at one with the water.
We eventually wandered to the shed, enjoying the banter and got on with the task of unpacking boxes. Having someone to talk options through helps letting things go. As does having someone to drop things off at Vinnies means that I cannot be tempted to revisit a decision. Martin jumped in and started going through a box of memorabilia. I loved this photo of him when he was a driver for Fiat. Loved his crazy hair and his big smile. Then they found some photos from the band days.
I left Bill and Martin pouring over old photos and went for a paddle.
Megan had just arrived, our neighbour Dan joined us along with the three dogs. Megan and I realised we have known each other for 15 years and are enjoying the fact that we are living close to each other again. We were briefly flat mates and later lived in the same street. Our first paddle together was the previous weekend. We took a different path this time, paddling out of the marina and up an inlet of the Coomera River.
Sometimes we talked and sometimes we pointed things out to each other.
Sometimes we paddled or drifted in a comfortable silence that is understood between good friends.
It was wonderful to watch Megan fall in love with the Coomera river inlet. The river was silty today. More so than usual.
On the way back we stopped, pulled the kayaks up on the pontoon and let the dogs run in a deserted park . Dan found a Frisbee that the dogs chased. Well Charlie did, our dogs are not quite sure what to do with Frisbees and balls. The sun was on the horizon and we jumped back into our kayaks and ski. And headed for home.
We found Martin, Bill and Marcus (Megan’s husband) all on the deck with Whiskey’s in hand and nibbles ready for our return. It was a very pleasant 20 degrees with no wind. It was magic on the deck. A different story this weekend. Megan and I freshened up and popped the top of a bottle of bubbles and the evening flowed as easily as the drinks. We were further fuelled by hangi and fish and chips from the amazing local Hangi Pit.
We were bouncing off each other’s energy.
DJ Dan had been pushing out an awesome selection of tunes and we were starting to sing along to a few. I went below and grabbed Martins keyboard and bought it out for the first time. I passed it to Maestro Bill who warmed up is fingers, while Martin warmed up his vocal cords. Megan grinned and I was truly grateful for good friends.
From there Martin, Bill and Megan sang almost any request that was made.
The rest of us jumped in, predominantly on the chorus, our confidence boosted by alcohol. The day had transitioned from tackling the burden of unpacking some boxes to a joyful and a deeply satisfying afternoon and evening. A lovely balance between getting stuff done, some exercise and quality time with good friends.
As Martin always says. It is exhausting to be this relaxed.
