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Doctors, dentists, and other stressful things

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Quote Oh my god it is a real phobia

Marty’s misadventures with doctors dentists and other stressful things.

My keyboard has been firmly closed for the last 5 weeks or so. Mostly, but not entirely because of the unexpected adventures of Marty mayhem with numerous medical specialists and other officials.

Best laid plans and all… Marty (Martin Lloyd) was planning to visit his daughters and our granddaughters in NZ for two weeks prior to flying to the Philippines via Sydney.

We were Gold Coast based at the time. I had planned for us to stay at a nice hotel and go to Bamboo Basket at Portside Brisbane the night before he was to fly out.

About 5 days before said scheduled departure date, Marty came down with the flu.

He was still too sick to visit the doctor to get his travel COVID clearance certificate the day before his planned departure. Collectively we rescheduled his doctor’s appointment, his flights and cancelled the hotel booking. It was a combination of me finding the respective phone numbers and dialling, Marty croaking ‘I have no voice’ with limited vocal capacity, handing the phone over to me to make the required changes.

By Thursday evening, I had a tickle in my throat. I woke up Friday feeling fine, and with that a sense of relief. Meanwhile Marty spent all day asleep. This was a good thing, as I had things to do and I am not that good at sympathy, especially when it comes to man flu. This is a little unfair, as Marty has always been brilliant when I have been sick, especially when I was knocked out with the flu for a crazy 6 weeks a couple of years ago.

Friday evening, Marty was clearly making a good recovery and started complaining of a toothache, and I was rapidly coming down with the flu. Remember, I am not good at the sympathy thing. I said something along the lines of, ‘We will see what it is like in the morning’.

I gave him a neat whiskey. One for me, one for him. Perhaps there was another one for me and for him.

I went to bed with a packet of tissues and a small waste bin. Not happy.

Saturday morning the flu had a firm grip on me and Marty was feeling much better flu wise. Unfortunately, this was replaced by an increased toothache. In case you didn’t already know, Marty has a full-on phobia of dentists, as well as needles. Unfortunately, this tends to require that he be fully knocked out for pretty much all dental procedures. We tried to get hold of his dentist; they were closed. I couldn’t believe I did not have his mobile number. We spent 2 hours trying to find a dentist on the Gold Coast that could practice with anaesthetic. No such luck.

I phoned my dentist, who had seen Marty on a previous weekend emergency.

Cooparoo Family Dentist agreed to see him and to fit him in to their Saturday morning schedule. I was too sick to go, and Marty promised me he could go on his own; after all, they were not going to do anything aside from just make an assessment.

When it came time to leave, he couldn’t find his motorbike keys…

Talk about the subconscious sabotaging the dentist visit. An emergency phone call was made to a friend (Karin Engel). ‘Can you take him?’ I asked. To make the appointment on time, it would have required her to leave immediately to pick him up. She couldn’t come straight away, but could come in an hour and suggested I ask the dentist to reschedule if possible. I did and they did. Just as I was about to fall back into bed, Marty lowered his trousers to reveal a 6 x 3 cm lump in his groin with the words, ‘What do you think this is?’ I nearly had a heart attack. I grabbed the camera and took a photo. I fell back into bed and Marty hopped in the dinghy, took an Uber to Karin’s place and she drove him to Brisbane.

It transpired that he had this lump for a few days, but was more concerned about the toothache. He was lucky to get to the dentist… Meanwhile, the lump had been burnt on my retina, and I wanted to throttle him.

I sent the photo to a friend who is a doctor with the apology of, ‘I’m so sorry to send this to you after hours. I am super worried.’ He replied, ‘No problems, looks like a hernia, get Marty to see his local GP about it’. With that I fell back asleep.

My sleep was broken by a phone call from Karin who had successfully delivered Marty to the dentist. Her call opened up with,

‘OMG, it is a real phobia.’

Yes, it is.

I was so grateful that she could deliver him and return him. Also, I was so very grateful my dentist who saw him on the weekend and had referrals made for him, together with the promise to phone the specialist first thing Monday to ensure he sees the specialist for a consult and then a procedure before his departure in 5 days. Amazing, truly amazing.

Meanwhile, the flu kept me in bed.

Before we knew it, the consult day had arrived. He very bravely took himself to the specialist. I was impressed.

The following day he was scheduled for his procedure. He had to get there by himself on the train. Again, this was big. Huge. He usually struggled to put his foot over the dentist door. Furthermore, because he was going to be knocked out, he needed a responsible adult to meet him and take him home.

Once again, I phoned a friend. This time it was Bill (Bill Fuller) who took on the role of responsible adult.

From my sickbed, I had booked in car parking in the City, adjacent to the dentist, for Bill.

Marty had about 5 hours post recovery before he had to see his GP for his Travel COVID clearance certificate.

Bill kindly picked him up in Brisbane CBD and drove him to Stafford for his GP consult, feed him lunch and hung out with him while the effects of the anaesthetics wore off.

From there, Bill tag teamed with Rob Brown to take him back to his place after his GP appointment. Rob works near the airport. Somewhere in the days before, I had suggested Marty stay with Rob overnight and go straight to the airport. I was still curled up in bed with the flu.

He sensibly did this.

We got through the week with the amazing help of three wonderful friends. Marty boarded the plane for NZ, and I went back to sleep. He had a wonderful time playing with his daughters and their families. The videos calls and photos with the grandchildren made my heart sing. He looked so happy.

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In Live your life

My search for happiness

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1957 Century Corondo Chamberlain

My search for happiness in a world of uncertainty.

Being stuck in a holding pattern, waiting for borders to open and an appropriate weather window to present itself so that we can commence our voyage to NZ, has been frustrating.

We (Martin Lloyd and I) were both ready for a change, or so we thought. However, not only is our journey a physical journey of exploring the world by yacht, it has also been a mental challenge.

We were stuck in our lives.

Even though moving on to Saboteur our routines had changed considerably, we easily fell into new habits fed by our self-image and our expectations of what our life would be like.

I am not talking about wearing designer deck shoes, and matching outfits (which personally I hate) and cocktails at sunset, although the latter is very nice thank you very much. I am talking about the practical; the very practical things along the lines of what are we doing for money. For me, what was I going to do when I stepped away from my locally based clients? These questions become more complex when we add the questions of what gives us meaning, and what makes us happy? My search for happiness began. It was imperative as we both needed to make this journey work.

Like many people I struggled in 2021.

I struggled finding my way through the now well established COVID era. Even though Queensland hardly saw lock down its impacts saw my clients hesitated to commit to work. I pushed on. Despite appearances everything was stressful. I could not let go of that feeling. I was becoming obsessive. Trying to do everything. I had no off switch. I looked in the mirror and I could not recognise myself. My jaw was clamped. I had started grinding my teeth, something I have never done previously. I had promised Marty, I would see the doc.

My doctor gave me an extensive questionnaire to work through to assess stress, anxiety and depression. My stress levels were off the radar.

I started on medication. I thought I would be last person on the planet to go on medication. It gradually started taking the edge off things. Little by little I could feel the stress’s hold on me loosening. It was going to be a journey. I still had to have income.

My head was stuck in my consulting world. Eventually, I came up with a new delivery model. A blended training model that combined two weeks of on-line lessons in a private Facebook group, a couple of Q&A sessions, and hot-seats, finishing the training with individual coaching sessions. I started delivering my ‘Lost for Words Basecamp’, for those moments when words fail you.

Finally, I had a model I loved and my clients loved. It will work for us as we go sailing, and is now my focus. My friend Litsa Barberoglou suggested that the ‘Lost for Words Basecamp’ should be the only thing I focus on, plus any coaching / consulting work which comes from that. She said it should be my thing, and she is right. I was so alive during the basecamp. I love watching my online clients transition from being lost for words to finding their voice and seeing the transformation in their lives. Personally, I was still obsessive. I could not switch off. Still not relaxing. Still worried about income and what the future looks like. My search for happiness continued.

In my wandering and researching state I became distracted by a training course on how to a make a heavy duty waterproof bag. It was a chance to use my hands and switch off my head. I signed up, shot the details to a girlfriend who also signed up. We arrived on the first day and as we walked into the lab, I was grinning from ear to ear. I said to Zoe Black, this is like going back to university for me. My undergrad was in Industrial design, and each year we had our own common room and lab where we would work on our projects. Perhaps, I appreciated a dedicated workspace even more now that we live on our yacht. So just maybe there was a little happy dance because of a sense of space.

It was like I was transported back to my student days, plus hanging out with one of my favourite people.

The first lesson, we did training on the sewing machine, setting tensions, stitch size, thread and practiced sewing thick material. I bent a needle. Something I have never done before. I bought home the vinyl I was practising on and it now sits under Zac’s water bowl. We also cut out our pattern. I wish I had bought it home as sadly, the lab flooded the next day. The lesson renewed my energy to get back in finishing my cockpit cushions (redesigned them as well) and started on the winch covers.

I still had the worry about income.

Marty came home one day and told me a company he has been helping out were struggling. They were 6 weeks behind in orders, and not packing boxes fast enough. He said he would ask if I could help them for a couple of days. And so I went in and helped them, wait for it, to assemble and pack Licence plate holders. Yeh, that’s right. The amazing thing was it was relaxing, I could switch off and as I was assembling them and stacking them, I would make crosses that I was calling kisses, and I was sending these kisses across the universe to those who needed them. So many of my close friends are struggling at the moment. I was surprisingly happy in my switched off zone sending love across the universe.

Meanwhile, we moved the boat to the Gold Coast to get some work done and I continued the couple of days a week. It was with great satisfaction we caught up on the back log. I had told the owner that they needed to be recruiting. It was the circuit break that I needed to switch my head off for a while. I was still happy to help out for a little longer, I was not intending to stay.

I was now running my third basecamp and loving it and managing to queeze the on-line sessions before heading into work.

The weather window for the trip to NZ is still not looking promising.

I needed to do something else. But what?

I recall our favourite shipwright, Shannan Batey of The Boat Builder, saying he had more work than what he could handle, and was turning work away. I have long admired his workmanship and how he is teaching his apprentices. So, I took a deep breath and phoned him up, and casually asked if he needed a hand. Even as I was speaking casually, I was surprised of how aware I was of really wanting this. For some of you this may seem a little odd. Perhaps you may not know I spent my first 10 working years on the tools. I am a jeweller by trade. Many of these skills are transferrable. He asked me a few questions, in particular what type of work do I want to do.

I said I don’t care, anything including the dirty work.

He told me he would start me grinding anti-foul off the bottom of a medium size steel hull thingy with 2 x 250hp outboards on the back. Talk about a baptism of fire. This is a very dirty job. Anti-foul is a poisonous substance that is painted on the underside of boats to prevent barnacles and growth from calling your boat their home. I was guessing the next job I was to do would be to replace the anti-foul which is even more disgusting. I didn’t care. They are skills that are useful to me.

That was a Friday, and I was to start the next Thursday as I was doing a mediation on Monday and assembling number plates holders on Tuesday and Wednesday. I had a silly grin on my face in anticipation all week.

When I arrived, the shipwright was not there and Kurt (the lead and a damn fine tradesman) gave me my task.

I was taken to a gorgeous 1957 Century Coronado Chamberlain.

A classic wooden boat designed for water sport and skiing. It has seriously gorgeous retro styling. It was the era of Elvis Presley and 1957 Number 1 with ‘All Shook Up’. Think the Thunderbirds (the TV show and the car (refer photo)) and the classic lines of the Chev’s and the Cadillacs from the era. The boat was complete with the chrome trim flares. She was beautiful.

The timber needed restoring, along with some of the paint work.

And so, I have spent the next three days working on this gorgeous boat. Thursday I was on my own with Kurt checking in on me. Friday, I had Jo the apprentice with me and Saturday morning I was on my own. I have been so, so happy. I have the skills however not the knowledge of the industry. Being shown what is required and provided with instruction on materials etc. and then being left to work on it has been magic. The shipwright when he turned up on Friday looked at my work, pointed out a few things I missed and said, he can see I will be doing their detail work. I have loved this work.

I have felt my grandfather with me. He was a chippy and a builder and died when I was 17. He taught me to use a saw, to sharpen chisels and how to drink whiskey neat.

I have had some funny moments.

I was using a disc sander to cut back the stern deck. This is gorgeous timber panels with contrasting colours. It was water damaged and bowed. I needed to sand it back in four places to remove the bow and restore the original curve. I was in the boat with the sander, face mask on and sanding away with the 80 grit. Every now and again, I took my finger off the trigger to stop it, so I could observe my work, check the line, the curve and the shape. On about the third or fourth time, it would not turn off. I shouted out to Shannan the shipwright with my mask on.

Me: ‘Turn off the power.’

Shannan: ‘I can’t hear you.’

Me: ‘Turn off the power.’

Shannan: ‘I can’t hear you.’

I am holding the spinning grinder, I raised it and shouted ‘POWER’.

Shannan disconnects the power cord.

He showed me the button I was holding down that keeps it going, while I was also trying to turn it off. Ha, ha. This happened a few times.

The first day I went in to work, I was nervous.

Will I be too slow, will I be too detailed? These fears are less of a concern now. I was also excited.

On Friday over a beer, I asked Shannon if he minded if I kept a logbook of what I do and if he would sign it off for me, as I might be able to pick up work at different marinas. He was more than happy to. He also suggested I go for recognised prior learning, and go for my Shipwright Certificate. Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t.

He is already talking about detailing work on another boats. He also talked about letting me loose on a prawn trawler that has been converted to a home. She is based in the Brisbane river, right next to our old anchor spot. I could either take the dinghy or kayak to work.

Four weeks in and I am feeling incredibly happy and personally satisfied.

I have a balance between using my head and my hands. This has been a struggle all my life. I have a plan for the next few months and the consistency in the cash flow is welcome. For the first time in about 18 months, I truly feel the stress passing me by, and my energy connecting with the universe. I am incredibly happy.

While I wrote most of this post at the end of the first week on being on the tools, I have hesitated to post it. Will I fall out of love of being on the tools or my basecamp model or coaching work? Will the balance continue to make me happy? Time has that answer. We have made some decisions that have helped me focus.

Our goal now is to work until September and then go sailing for the following 6 months. We will work on repeating this pattern. I will continue my basecamps and coaching while sailing. Finding this path and balance feels similar to starting my jewellery apprenticeship (all those years ago) and my first day of university when I started studying Industrial Design. (Again, all the years ago). There is an excitement in me, a joy and the love of life is flowing back.

My new right of passage.

Originally published on Facebook on April 10, ’22

A note on the photos.

The photo feature photo is another boat that has been restored and will give you an idea of what this boat will look like when it is finished.

Various photos of progression of the timber restoration on a hand built time ski boat.

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In Live your life

Perhaps, today is the day….

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Perhaps, today is the day…. For what you ask…?  The inevitable… A stand-up paddle board, an inexperienced paddler, two dogs and water.  Know where this is heading…? Read on.

About two months ago I purchased a second-hand stand-up paddle board. I was reasonably sure I could stay on. However, would I like it? Because of my uncertainty I was determined to buy the cheapest second-hand board I could find. Sitting on our deck at Horseshoe Bay just off Peel Island the water was so inviting, I really wanted a board, and now. The now bit was not remotely possible. However, the ‘want’ was strong. High jacking any priority spending and sensibleness like ‘where would we put her’? I jumped on gumtree and there I saw her. She was beautiful and happened to be the cheapest… True. She was knocked around a bit and had evidence of a good life (Just like us).

So, I purchased her sight unseen and had to rely on my brother to pick it up. After all we were anchored off Peel Island at the time.

About a week later we went into Horizon Shores Marina and met my bro and kids for dinner. He brought my new toy to me… Happy days. I looked at her and smiled. Zac investigated and the dogs immediately jumped on her.

Welcome to your new family Bella-B.

Over the next few weeks she sat in a few different locations on our boat while we worked out where her new home was going to be. Unfortunately the weather was against a calm first paddle. I wanted Martin to be handy with the dinghy, well just in case… Fingers crossed the weather would be favourable soon. Martin was getting annoyed about stepping around her on the deck (he has big feet that get in his own way sometimes) and we invested in racks to mount her on the outside of the stauntions.

I looked and wondered a bit, quietly hoping I would fall in love with stand-up paddling.

My first paddle was off Russell Island on slack water with straps secured around the board, front and back. Why? There are two reasons, the first it will slow the board down in the water. Not a bad idea while I gain my balance. A trick I learnt from my friend Bruce who patiently tried to teach me to paddle a K1 kayak (Olympic class). Who was I kidding? But I had heaps of fun trying. Who does not love a swim in the Noosa river? The second purpose the straps served was to enable me to secure another line to the board and hoist her back on the boat. Remember we are not at a marina finger, we are on anchor.

My first paddle was awkward, wobbly and slow.

If I am honest, too slow for my liking. I was missing the glide. That was probably because of the straps. It was still nice. Then the dogs wanted to be on the board. The paddle was even slower with two puppies on board. Nitro sat perfectly still in front of me and Moo, not so still behind me.

The second paddle was at Paradise Point, Gold Coast. I had this idea of doing my first Bridge to Bridge. What was I thinking? I still have my training wheels on (the straps) and two puppies. It was slow going from Saboteur north to the first bridge. It took ages against the current. I was not sure of my footing. And I turned, and the current was swift. Turning was interesting. I held my breath and wobbled and as I wobbled Nitro looked up at me and Moo moved around. Not helping Moo! I immediately gave up the idea of doing a bridge to bridge and turned my attention on how to get back on the boat. I realised the dinghy was not in the water and changing my centre of gravity enough to pick up the dogs and put them on the boat and hold on all at once was going to be challenge and I had forgotten to put the strap out to hold on to… As I approached the boat, I was hoping Martin would pop his head up on deck and help me. Relief, Martin popped his head up. Perfect timing.

And still, I did not fall in. 

Now we have been at East Coast Marina Manly for a couple of weeks. The first week most days, I saw my friend Karen go past on her board. I am thinking ‘I really need to do this’. Finally, one morning she passed the corner and I went ‘bugger it, I’m doing it’. I put the board in the water (without straps) put the dog’s life jackets on them, grabbed the paddle and my ankle strap then tentatively stood on the board. I did not need to worry about putting the dogs on, they jumped aboard. Nitro first and then Moo, both claiming their spots.

The water was glass, the sun was rising, swifts (birds) were singing and we were gliding across a sprinkle of diamonds on the water. I went up the channel beside Saboteur. There were schools of fish here and there. I paddled down to the main gate and gingerly turned. Wow… survived another turn. Paddling back, this time along the shoreline, I saw two rays. I grinned from ear to ear. I was gradually gaining confidence. Before too long my feet were becoming numb. Particularly my toes. It is a thing with us stand-up paddle boarders. 

Since then this has become my morning routine. I have fallen in love with the glide. I have always loved the tranquillity of the early morning and the sun kissing the water.

Every morning I wonder, perhaps today is the day that I will fall in.

Now, it is important to do so as you need to know how to get back on. My ego prides myself in not falling off, my brain says I need to practice getting back on. Especially with two dogs to also get back on board.

So, Thursday morning, I went for my biggest paddle ever. I had departed East Coast Marina and ventured into Royal Queensland Yacht club. (Sounds more impressive than it is). And my feet started going numb. Bugger, I still had a way to go to get back to Saboteur.

I turn to head for home and a turtle pops his head up out of the water and looks at me and the dogs who remain silent. My board has images of turtles on it. I grin… totally forgetting about my numb feet. I turn the board and drift with the turtle who disappears below the water. Hoping to see him again… I don’t understand why we can feel our feet when they go numb. Perhaps numb is not the right word.

I reluctantly turn to go back home.

On the way back a lady on a marina finger smiles at the dogs and says oh they are so cute in the life jackets. She was wearing a one piece. I asked if she had been swimming at the local pool. And she said she had been to Chandler (a bigger pool). By this stage the board is virtually still and we are beside the finger. The dogs not wanting to miss out on attention from a human who is looking adoringly at them, jump off the board onto the finger. Nitro first followed by Moo. Great, this is going to be interesting. I start to wobble. I call the dogs. Moo jumps on behind me and Nitro in front of me. Nitro jumps on the front of the board where there is no traction pad. Only glossy fibreglass. It could only be described as the fastest tap dance ever followed by a roadrunner brake and a slow motion slide into the water. Meanwhile I attempt to stay upright. Nitro tries to get back on, all the while his claws and paws slipping on the fibreglass.

I carefully lean forward and grab the handle of his life jacket, lift him out of the water and lower him on to the traction pad. He shakes to get the excess water off himself and decides he really needs to sit down, for which I am grateful. I say goodbye to my new friend and head home hoping my feet will hold out. And they did…

So today was not ‘the’ day for me at least.

#sailingsaboteur #ilovesup

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In Live your life

Boat life is not all cocktails on sunset…

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I would be lying if I said boat life was all about sitting in the cockpit watching the sun slide below the horizon everyday.

Honestly, we should do it more often. It is a magical time of day. When we do, the day’s worries evaporate, with or without the assistance of a lovely red wine.

The reality of boat life is that it is not that dissimilar to life on the land… Things go wrong.

The following post tells the story of me planning to work for a week on our old boat. This was before we were live aboard. The plan was to escape and work on a book I was writing. What follows is my very first personal post that I shared with friends. It was a year or so before we bought our new boat and before we had the idea of going liveaboard and started blogging.

I called this post..

‘Be careful what you ask for… You just might get it…’

I decided I wanted to remove all distractions this week and focus on finishing my book. I had not planned for being disconnected from WIFI…

Phoenix 7 our old sailboat.

Going into lock down (this was pre COVID) was the plan. The chosen venue for lock down was our boat “Phoenix 7” a 34 ft Duncanson sail boat at Newport Marina.

The reno work on Phoenix is more or less finished. Martin and I spent all day Sunday cleaning her so I could spend the week writing… Starting Monday… Best endeavours.

Queue music… Van Morrison singing, ‘Days like this.’

For this type of trip, I like to pack everything the day before especially when I want to write for 5 days.

Note: to other budding writers. Do everything the day before including your writing plan so you can start writing very first thing in the morning.

Well, packing for boat life did not just include clothes and food for a week. It included linen, soft furnishing’s and dining table seat cushions, shower curtain etc, etc, etc as we had taken just about everything off the boat.

After packing and shopping I decided to get the dogs washed professionally as I was running out of time and it would make it easier to unload the car and load the boat without my adorable munchkins at my feet, or more precisely trying to sniff out whether I’d actually remembered to pack anything resembling food for them.

My munchkins sleeping at my feet enjoying boat life.

I had the lovely Mitch (who’s brilliant work on our boat was covered in another post) coming by to drop the second key off. I said I would give him lunch and also Mitch wanted to check something.

Here I must issue a warning to any Celebrity Chefs or even just plain Chefs out there who are about to read this; I swear that I am normally a highly organised gal who seldom lapses into the sort of stupidity that you are about to read about. What went wrong yesterday, I fail to fully comprehend!”

The lunch plan was roast chook from our local butcher (very yummy) and my signature salad.

Ingredients:

~ Celery finely sliced
~ Pears finely sliced
~ Slivered almonds toasted
~ Feta cheese and a drizzle of the oil the feta is marinated in…

Well, I picked up the chook on the way. Tick.

I had forgotten to pack the:

~ almonds from home
~ pear and the feta from the corner store (which is right next door to the butcher)

I had started cutting up the celery before I realised this and I was using a normal knife as I had forgotten to pack the chef knifes… Fortunately I did not get too far before I realised that I did not have most of the ingredients.

Fade music (Van Morrison)

Queue music, Bobby McFerrin singing ‘Don’t Worry, Be Happy.’

Lunch became, roast chook… and hummus with celery and biscuits… Lol

After a late lunch we went to buy anchoring lights for the boat. We now have the required lights we need to anchor over-night on our trip next weekend.

Just before going to the Chandler I also learnt from a client that an automation was not working as expected… and this was a problem. Mitch left and I went to pick up the dogs.

The phoenix that I painted on our cabin door.

Back on the boat and I went to plug in my phone to hotspot it to fix the automation and my phone was down to 7%… And the phone charger was not working… Sorry Mitch the cigarette thingy charger point gave up… No way of charging my phone…

A quick note to my client while I still had some charge and hotspot… Followed by a quick call to my husband saying phone about to die 2%…

By now its dinner time…

My boat life comedy of errors continued…

I went to cook green prawns stir fried with ginger, coriander, beans, capsicum and nuts…

I pulled out the green prawns (which I had had in the freezer at home) and opened the bag, only to discover they were prawn shells that had not made it to the bin… LOL

I had a lovely vegie stir fry… Followed by a shower and went to bed by 8pm.

Lights out – I woke 12 hours later.

This morning I believe I have rectified my comedy of errors I’ve now purchased knives and a few other essential things and a power source for my phone.

Take Two… Productive work occurring…

Queue music, Pharrell Williams singing ‘Happy.’

Me sitting at the helm enjoying the evening air and boat life.

Stay tuned for next week’s post as I will follow up with day 2 of this trip.

It did not get any better.

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Under pressure rip-cord.

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After watching this magic sunset we were no longer under pressure

I have always thrived, and on the odd occasion coped, under pressure. I have always managed to get what needs to be done, done. The last four months have been the most intense period for many years. It has been the same for Martin Lloyd.

Que music, David Bowie singing “Under Pressure”

Zac Chillaxing, so not under pressure
Zac chillaxing

Between emptying the house and moving onto the boat, maintaining full time workload along with settling three animals onboard, it has been a little hectic. Fortunately, the animals settled almost immediately. I think it took me longer to stop observing and being concerned about them settling into to their new life than they did.

Zac seems to think the boat is the biggest cubby house ever. Moo and Nitro are just happy to be with us wherever we are.

We are into our third month on the boat and I had the opportunity with my workload to take a two-week break. I jumped on it not realising how long I had been under pressure and much I needed it. I thought I would write and get a few tasks done around the boat. Sitting on top of the “I thought I would” list was to publish a post I wrote a few weeks ago and write at least another, along with finishing installing the safety netting. Two weeks later, they are still on top of the list. In reality, I did very little.

I did do a lot of paddling, reading, sleeping and reflecting on what is important in life.

Paddling into the marina at sunset

Most mornings I went for a paddle with the dogs. Some mornings our neighbour Daniel Cooke and his dog Charlie joined us. I did a couple of sunset paddles. Martin joined me for one. It was magic.

I finished one book and started another. Both were about peoples journey. The first “By Way of the Wind” (By Jim Moore) is about a couple who had very little sailing experience, yet they sailed around the world. Martin and I have a lot to learn. The second is called “Pig” by Helen Browning, which takes us through tales of an organic farm, the relationships with their farm animals, nature and life itself. It is very interesting as they transition their farm towards alternative food sources.

I slept a lot… read, snoozed, read, repeated… I think I am starting to get the hang of this break!

Fade David Bowie.
Que Pink Floyd singing “Shine on your crazy Diamond”

I spent 2 days with my sister and collectively we said goodbye to a friend who passed away in the height of COVID. Her family planned for and hoped to be able to celebrate her life on what would have been her 57 birthday. When we heard the Queensland Government COVID changes the week before, I thought the plans would have to be put on hold again and I shed a tear. However, we learnt her wake could go ahead as it was at a venue with appropriate a COVID plan. Such relief. And so, we celebrated a life of our beautiful angel and Dancing Queen, Therese.

I spent the evening before the wake with a girlfriend and her 6-week old baby and playing with her 3 year old. Celebrating new life. Such precious times. They grow so quickly. My girlfriend ask what do I miss from living on land. My reply was simple, a cup of tea in bed. We have no bedside tables. We laughed, she does not have bedside tables either. Although I suspect two kids would prevent regular cups of tea in bed. That night, as I went to sleep I missed the gentle rocking of the boat.

I took time out just to hang with my sister and the following day we did girlie things. I raided her wardrobe trying on clothes for about 3 hours and then we both settled down and chilled.

Camp fire on the beach

To wrap up the two-week break Martin (also under pressure) escaped work and took Friday off. We slipped the lines of our berth at Gold Coast City Marina and headed north through the Boardwater up to Millionaires Row, dropped the anchor and chilled for two nights. On the second night we jumped in the dinghy for a sunset beach walk and got as far as a campfire and talked with a family who like us were enjoying a perfect sunset and a weekend sailing. It was lovely to see grandparents, parents, the two kids and their dog enjoying this life. And again the pull to head to New Zealand is getting ever stronger to be with our girls and grandchildren.

Fade Pink Floyd
Que Little River Band singing “Cool change”

If there’s one thing in my life that’s missing
It’s the time that I spend alone
Sailing on the cool and bright clear water…

#SailingSaboteur #Whatareyouwaitingfor #Liveyourlife #Getoutdoors #TandMadventures #Catsonboard #Dogsonboard #ZacAdventures #Wearsunscreen #Ilovesailing

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Living & learning as an absolute beginner!

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Sunset paddle

Queue music: David Bowie, Absolute Beginner

Martin Lloyd and I spent the weekend before last embracing the fun and folly of our youth (you can stop laughing right now) and our decision to go live-aboard. I felt so alive, energised and happy. I navigated the weekend and its experiences as an absolute beginner, as I undertook new challenges and the learnings that went with them and the laughs that went with our activities.

It is a stark contrast to the midweek funk I found myself in. You know what I mean. Hump day and all. Only this time it was extreme. I was seriously lacking motivation and struggling to focus. Familiarity (work stuff) leading to boredom. I was going crazy. Perhaps I was suffering from a lack of people contact which I find energising. Just maybe it is a combination of both. And this coming weekend it is forecast to rain (and it did). However, I have shaken the mid-week funk off.

Get me out of here I want to go sailing!!!

Let me take you back. We survived the pain and fatigue of downsizing. We are settling into a new kind of normal that comes with finding our new local supermarket, vet (found that already thank you Moo), pharmacy and the like. Not to mention where to go for our curry fix. And even more importantly, settling Zac (the cat), Moo and Nitro (dogs) into their new life on the boat and managing comfort stops. No longer can I just open the door and let them outside. I physically have to lift the dogs up the companion way (steps) into the cockpit. From here they gladly jump over the cockpit seats and wait politely, despite sometimes being desperate on the side of the boat for me to then get down and lift them onto the finger.

While part of me would be grateful if they could jump down themselves, I am grateful that they are not inclined to as I feel reasonably confident that they will still be on the deck when I return. When we are on land, I have to keep an eye on them as they explore, often heading in different directions. And as for Moo, we have just learned he can walk straight between the bars of the fence to the road. So the fence is merely a boundary suggestion. So far, escape activities are Moo twice and Zac once. Fortunately, they were both playful and not running away from a life aboard.

Last weekend was booked solid.

Friday came and I wanted to shout, “Hello weekend”.

Hello weekend image with text

It felt brilliant. I kicked off the weekend with a Friday sunset paddle up the creek with my neighbour Daniel Cooke in our kayaks. We were accompanied by his dog Charlie and our two dogs Moo and Nitro. It was magic, my spirits soared as each stroke weaved us through stunning vistas and the glow of the setting sun presenting an ever-changing backdrop.

Me and the dogs heading out on an adventure
Off we go

Paddling on my kayak (a happy trade off to my surf ski and purchased to carry the dogs easily) is very different to paddling my surf ski. It is a different style, each stoke needs to be more casual, laid back and chilled. I tried to model my stroke off Dan’s. He appears to be the chill master. I had to remind myself to sit back and drop my shoulders rather than the slight lean forward and reaching for the longer stroke required to maximise the power I would normally seek to feel the surf ski glide efficiently though the water. The kayak offers no such efficiencies. The creek gently reminds me that there is no sense of pace required that comes with paddling the surf ski.

The creek is quiet. The birds are singing.
It’s serene.

Dan points out the birds, and he can identify the various types. Me, I’m an absolute beginner. I recall my mother being able to identity every bird in the garden. I packed an Australian bird book which has not found its way to the surface with our unpacking yet. Dan even spotted wallabies.

Absolute beginner at sunset paddles

The sunset was amazing, the peace that came with it led to a beautiful evening of great food, wine and company. My muscles felt the joy and warmth of a nice work out.

Saturday, we had hoped to put the boat through her paces, however the wind was stronger than what we had wanted for our planned activities so we rescheduled our sail for Sunday.

We looked for things to do on Saturday.
What evolved lead to a comedy of events.

We decided to put the dinghy tender in the water. Until now it had been on its trailer outside the shed. The lads decided to carry the dinghy to the water. This required wheeling the trailer to the closest point to the gangway (ramp to the finger). The lads lifted it off the trailer, rotated it to be vertical. Dan grabbed a small trolley. We put the edge of the dinghy on the trolley up on its side, then they moved it between the path’s hedges leading on to the gangway. The trolley started to slip sideways so I put my foot on the trolley to arrest this sideways movement, at that point my shoe got dosed in water and my foot slipped out of my shoe, now firmly wedged between the dinghy air-rib and the trolley.

I watched as the boys wheeled / carried the dinghy (and my shoe) down the gangway to the water’s edge. I wondered would the trolley end up in the water along with my shoe. It did not matter if the dinghy ended up in the water. Controlled or uncontrolled that was, after all, its destination. However, the boys did a brilliant job of controlling the dinghy down the gangway and lowering it in the water.

And that is when the real entertainment began.

I jumped in the dinghy to hold it against the finger while the guys lowered the engine on to the transom. I secured it by tightening the clamps. Once the engine was secured Martin said, OK you’re in the dinghy you can take it around to the other side of Saboteur. Ha, ha… I did not know how to start it nor steer a tiller / throttle combo. this was going to funny… besides, I had to navigate between our boat and our neighbours boat without damaging either. Not that that was possible as our dinghy has an inflatable tube (other wise known as a rib) around its gunwales offering insurance to every vessel but my fragile ego. In case you missed the point, our neighbour was watching.

But first, I had to get the 2.5 horsepower outboard started.

I tried to follow instructions. Attach the safety kill switch, pull the choke out, open the fuel cap breather (a little not too much) to allow air into the fuel tank. Why, I don’t know. I have probably forgotten something or got the order wrong but hey… And then I have to pull the cord. Much like a lawn mower. You get the idea. About 6 attempts later… Again I am shown, this time I am guided to pull the cord back slowly and feel it take the tension, then allow it to slide back in and then pull evenly through the tension point – easier said than done.

Martin does it perfectly… beauty, I am off… But before I could get myself taught lesson on a tiller and a throttle underway, Martin kills it so I can start it… Really, I was ok with his success… I try again, again and again. It took about another ten attempts before I got the outboard started. Now to work out how to use the tiller and throttle. And so, accompanied by a squeal (me) and three dogs, I wobble away from the finger turn the corner and practically bounced between our boat and our neighbours boat. Our neighbour is still watching. At which point Martin says I need to go out into the marina and play.

I need to master this damn fandangled thing called a dinghy.
It is, after all, a safety device.

And so I cautiously venture out from between the two boats, edging forward in search of my confidence.

I am sure it is sitting on the marina waiting for me to return.

Funny how I am comfortable in a big boat, but even this small one is a totally different thing.

GCCM a great place for an absolute beginner to learn to her dinghy skills.
A fun place to play

And so I ventured forth and went in and out of some pens, I headed towards the Moor and Store (They store boats here and lower them in the water for the their owners when they want to use them) and then decided this was not a good idea. What if someone’s boat was going to be lowered in the water, or someone else was to put their boat in at the boat ramp. Imagine that. I would have to navigate traffic and so I turned and headed towards the other side of the marina. Less traffic and more open space.

The dogs were fine. They seemed to enjoy the ride. They were sitting up front balancing the boat nicely. Then Charlie a 10 kilo Cavalier King Charles Poodle cross wanted to come closer to me followed by my dogs.

Charlie was sitting on the centre seat, and I cannot blame him.
It is a seat, after all. However, it changed the centre of gravity and
my confidence.

I asked Charlie to move back to his original seat. I cannot remember what I said but he did it and my dogs followed suit. Relief, I was not sure how I would get Charlie out of the water if he fell in. In the Marina it would not be a problem as he could swim back to the boat. However, that is not the point. I can easily lift my dogs in.

And so I played in the marina and my confidence was a little buoyed. Not a lot. I knew I needed to practice and master this thing called a dinghy and outboard. And you can laugh… I have very little confidence yet. However much more confident in a larger boat. Then and there, I set myself a goal to go out every day for 21 days. Having made that decision, I returned to shore to reconnect with my confidence.

Some strange things were happening. I have my sea legs, well and truly, and every now and again when I get on land, I get the land wobbles. It is a thing you know.

And armed with my 21 days plan I was happy.

The outboard that is causing havoc for this absolute beginner
Yet to be mastered

However, over the next two days I learnt the bung was leaking. The dinghy was filling with water. And so, Monday morning Dan took the outboard off our dinghy and secured it to it’s mounting plate on Saboteur.

My dinghy full of water.
Some bailing to be done

Dan checked out the local chandlery and Martin and I went in search on-line for a bung.

It is a special bung of which there are none in Australia. This is not good for a safety device. We ordered a new one on-line and are waiting delivery. And so my 21 day challenge is on hold.

More fun to be had…

More lessons to be learnt for this truly absolute beginner…

At least David Bowies singing “Absolute Beginner” buoys my soul as I test myself…

OK, you racer boys out there with ridiculous amounts of horsepower of your back wheel can stop laughing some time soon.

#Ilovesailing #whatareyouwaitingfor #liveyourlife #wearsunscreen #TandMadventures #Dinghyadventures

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Trying to remember, where are my keys?

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Where are my keys?

Looking for my keys is not uncommon for me. I usually find them in the bottom of my handbag, but which handbag is usually the question? The way I track them back is I need to reflect on what outfit I wore (yes I remember the strangest things) and then connect the outfit to the handbag. It sounds like I have a lot of handbags. I have a few. Perhaps, I will count how many I have before I publish this article. That’s if I remember to do so.

I have been forgetting things. 

Six days ago; 
We were at the boat Sunday afternoon doing some work and then had a quiet drink on the deck. Went home. I woke up Monday morning wondering if we have closed the hatches and portholes. I threw the dogs in the car and headed out to the marina. Their morning walk was at East Coast Marina Manly. And we had shut the hatches. 

I laughed at myself and I was glad to have made the dash out there as rain was forecast.

Some of our new rigging

So, I sat on the deck and enjoyed the stillness of the morning. I imagined what it will be like getting up every morning and bringing my cuppa up and watching everything and nothing. Every time a fish jumped out of the water I missed it, only catching the concentric ripple of evidence they left behind them. I noticed, people leaving their boats dressed for work. I remember to look at our new rigging. Two women paddled back to the shore in their single woman outriggers. They must have left early. One was lefthanded, one was right minded. 

—
Mental note 1, remember next time I am in Hawaii I want to paddle a traditional outrigger… 
Mental note 2, remember I must bring my surf ski to the boat this weekend.
—

Tuesday, I realised I was meant to contact two clients last week, and I had not… (I must rectify that)…. Along with two friends… 

Wednesday morning, I woke up to find that I had prepared the dog’s dinner the night before and had forgotten to put it down for them. They are way more polite than the cat is in this matter.

And that only got me as far Wednesday.

So, what are your signs of being under pressure or stress or both?

For me, I eventually feel it in my jaw. However, there are plenty of other earlier signs. Most of them are around short-term memory. Where is my phone? It can still be in my hand when I ask myself the question. Where are my glasses? Walking into a room to do something only to fin myself standing still tryng to remember what that was. Retelling my husband stories from the day. Not one, twice… Hey baby, did I tell you…? 

My mind races. Normally, I like working at this pace. However, I can only do it if have balance. Normally, I have it built into my day. For me it is the quiet of the morning before anyone else is awake. However, nothing about the last few weeks has been normal.

The two things that always help are a kick-arse action list (and then the keys magically reappear) and pausing to reflect. In that reflecting space I can relax and connect the dots of what I am meant to be doing and why. Versus jumping across thoughts as they either catch my eye or my mind lands on what I need to do. The former is planned and proactive and the latter is reactive and risks missing something seriously important. 

If I reflect and plan in the evening I can relax and sleep knowing exactly what I will do in the morning. I wake and my morning routine kicks in. And balance is restored once again. 

Be kind to yourself…

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Morning-rituals, walking the cat (Zac) & me…

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Zac, standing in front of the cupboard is part of his mornings-rituals
Zac, the Brad Pitt of Cats (just ask me)

I love my morning-rituals. To me, there is something magical about the calm and stillness of a quiet morning before the world around me awakes. I think it is fair to say, almost all normal everyday things we do in this “cocooning-healing” phase (brought on by COVID) that our global village is embracing (aka isolating), is the same but different.

Over the last few months as Martin and I prepare to move onto our boat, we regularly ask ourselves or each other, how are we going to do this or that on the boat? Most things are more or less the same but a little different. 

My morning-rituals include taking Zac (my cat) for his morning walk around the house. 

He walks on a lead.

Zac sitting by me as I work at the lagoon
My advisor

He has done so from when he was 12 weeks old. He used to come with me to the park and the lagoon at Sandgate. (Image right is of Zac sitting next to me at the lagoon as I worked). And over the years he was very adaptable. I would take him to weekly visits to the hospital to visit my goddaughter. She was an inpatient for way too many months. She loved Zac’s visit’s as did all the other patients who took the opportunity to pet him. It was wonderful to see the joy on their faces. 

Ever since we moved into this house 5.5 years ago, we have not really taken him socialising. I had not consciously thought about it. Reflecting back on why, I can easily put it down to who we visited. Firstly, there is no need for hospital visits anymore… (OK you two – have you GOT that?) Additionally, one family we use to visit moved overseas and another now has a couple of dogs. The third family, was a short walk up the street to their place. Then we moved.…  

Nevertheless, I take him for walks most mornings around the house. 

He adores his morning-rituals.

Zac in my work travel case waiting for me to finish work.
Waiting for me to finish work

He has a routine; It starts at the bottom of the back steps with him tugging at the lead to go, waiting impatiently for me to let the lead out. He wants to rush down the driveway as fast as I will allow him on his lead. That speed will depend on whether I have a cup of tea in my hand, and if it is steaming hot or has been sitting a little.

He gets to the end of the drive and starts sniffing to investigate which of the neighbour’s cats have been visiting overnight. He then walks along the front hedge, stopping to scratch his nails on an exposed tree root that accepts this ritual without protest… Further stopping a second time to look out the front gate. He continues along the front hedge. I think this is his scouting run. He then turns and comes back knowing exactly where he wants to spray his scent to reclaim his territory.

Image, My yoga mat message reads "Squat as if JT is watching". JT is my trainer. This is an essential part of my morning-rituals
My yoga mat reminds to to squat like JT (My trainer) was watching!

From here the rest of the walk around the house is playful for him. Jumping under bushes, investigating climbing etc. While he is doing this, each stop he takes becomes my workout point. I either do lunges or squats. As many as the pause allows. Other the years, my exercise routine has fallen away for various reasons. However, I almost always do my lunges and squats. The reason being they are two of the three essential exercises you should do if you want to wear high-heals without discomfort.

Image, the thongs I am learning to walk in.
Learning to walk in these…

As most of you know, I love wearing high-heals. My body shows the evidence of it. I have shortened tendons in my calves, My big toes in a natural relaxed position no longer sit flat, they curl up and because this I have been unable to walk in thongs. For many years now my feet just don’t work as they should in a flat position. With the slight upwards tilt of my big toes they are simply not in the right position to flick the thong back and stop them from falling off my feet. So when I need to wear flats I have always worn sandals (preferably Merrill’s or something like that) with the arch support or my sandshoes. It is hard to find elegant sandals. 

So, this is where the same but different comes in.

With our cocooning, I have not been wearing heals and gradually I have found myself starting to wear my two pairs of thongs (one ordinary everyday pair and the other slightly more elegant) that have been sitting neglected for so long in my wardrobe. Previously, I would wear them for short bursts until I kick them off in frustration. They would stay there neglected until I walk past them and maybe put them away. Now this in one habit that must change when we are on the boat.

But now I find wearing them more and more and am becoming comfortable with them. I am learning how to walk in them.

I have already been downsizing my heals. However, I have not downsized them enough. I imagine myself going back to my client’s office wearing my heals. I am wondering, will I still have my super high-heals? Will I keep my mid-heal height? What will stay and what will go? Will I be able to spend all day in heals? Will my lower back start hurting as I get back into heals?  I had better start doing my core strength exercises in anticipation…

And as for the answers, time will tell.

What is the same but different for you?

Image, Morning ritual of quiet time Zac is chilling in front of th garden buddha.
Zac’s Morning ritual in our old house chilling with Buddha

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A curve ball

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Just when I thought I had found my balance… Working from home and the adaptions that come with it. It was all about to change. Life threw us a massive curve ball. I have just hopped on a late call when my husband came home from work. He was calling out for me. Normally, he will find me downstairs in the office. For whatever reason I was working from the kitchen table (too many cups of tea I suspect) …

Before I could see him, I could tell from his voice he was distressed.

And then he walked into the room his whole body was shaking violently. I mean seriously violently. Something was seriously wrong. I kissed him, phone nestled between my shoulder and ear and reached for blood pressure machine. He sat down and submitted to the blood pressure test, without the usual protest, “I’m fine.” 

Ninety percent of the time he is. He has been gifted with great genes, metabolism and low blood pressure. The machine informed us 177 over 96 with a pulse of 90. And he was burning up but shivering like he was frozen. I redid the test, still listening to my client. 176 over 97 with a pulse of 97. I politely tell my client I have to take my husband to hospital. 

I grab my handbag, car keys and turn to head to the door.

My "visitors" pass for the emergency department

Martin had disappeared. He comes back with a coat on. It is 26 degrees. This is crazy. I take him straight to the hospital wondering what it will be like in emergency with all that was going on with the Corona virus and how are the staff coping. Meanwhile, Martin is shaking violently in the seat next to me. Before being admitted into emergency his temperature was taken and he was told he had a fever 38.4. And he was put in a wheel-chair (remember he is shaking pretty badly) and he got wheeled to another section of emergency, but not the section for Corona. He did not have a cough, nor has he travelled recently. This is where I saw for the first time the seats in emergency taped to mark the physical distancing that has rapidly become the new norm.

He gets admitted to hospital.

The conclusion was he had an infection that was causing the extreme physical reactions. By this stage his temperature was 39.4 and his shaking could easily be mistake as a seizure which one doctor thought he was having. He had a team, around him “House” style. They could not find the infection…

Overnight they lower his body temperature and blood pressure, but still had no answer for what had occurred. Late the next day he was discharged with strict instructions to re-present if any one of three scenarios occurred. A few hours later, the scenarios had occurred, but he was adamant that he did not have a fever. And we could not check as we did not have a thermometer. We had tried to buy one on the way home however they were all gone. He was shivering again, so of course he did not think he had a temperature. His explanation was he was exhausted and needed a good’s nights sleep to see if he would improve. He still suspected he had a normal flu.

I slept poorly that night and when he woke, he informed me that he had broken the fever.

I told him otherwise. He took a call from work and started to organise a meeting. We had a serious argument that ended with me saying something like “get in the freaking shower and get to the freaking hospital.”

I am not sure if it was our argument or whether he was realising he was not well, but he went to the hospital. I offered to take him, however he called an Uber… not sure if it was escaping my anger and frustration at his male martyrdom or consideration for my work or a bit of both. I was relieved that he was going. And with the relief came a few tears, before I jumped on my call. And selfishly, I don’t worry when he is at hospital. He is where he needs to be. And perhaps I could have a power nap at lunch time.

I was still on my conference call when at 11.05am I received a text saying. “It’s an abscess. Surgical team required.” I quickly call him.

It is serious. They were prepping him for surgery.

There was no point in rushing to the hospital as I would not be able to see he until he was out of recovery.

However, I am relieved as we know what we are dealing with…

A little later I get a message saying, I am using Siri because I am shaking so much… Followed by a call that did not make sense. I thought he was being casual and not talking into the phone, however he was incoherently crying from the pain, the morphine (aka truth serum) and the infection in his body. Before talking to me he had Siri’ed the girls and told them he was scared he would never see them again. He was scared and seriously ill.

And according to the doctor it was close… and now he is home, happy and healthy. The turnaround is amazing.

I must say thank you, thank you, thank you to all the amazing people from cleaners, admin, nurses, doctors and specialists at The Prince Charles Hospital. You are amazing!

Have you thoughts about what you would do if life through you a big curve ball?

My husbands massive smile, that reflects his love if life.

For me, if this curve ball was a massive wake up call. one I could write about at length. However, if you indulge me and permit me to I can give you any advice for these uncertain times…

Embrace the moments you have with each other
Remember the compliments forget the insults
Argue and resolve things quickly
Enjoy the beauty around you
Laugh, drink and dance.

Tell each other that you love them, often…

Live and love life…

What’s your curve ball strategy?

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This is Australia, QLD style

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This is Australia, QLD style…

Monday night, sleep escaped me as I breathed in the humidity. 

Que music, Mark ‘Cal’ Callaghan from Gang Gajang singing ‘The sounds of then, (This is Australia)’

Out on the patio we’d sit
And the humidity we’d breathe…

I was lying in bed waiting for the storm. Waiting for the promise of the drop in temperature and slight relief that it brings. It was always magically falling asleep to a storm. I grew up in an old Queenslander. 

A gorgeous old Queenslander
A gorgeous old Queenslander

For my overseas friends, an old Queenslander is a timber-built house raised on stilts that is allegedly designed to allow whatever available breeze to flow through and under the house. This is true for the hot winds, rain and cold winter winds as well. However, we tend to have more of the former. Typically, old Queenslanders have tin roofs. I love tin roofs…

I love the story they tell as they express the temperature changes through their range of sounds. As kids we use to sit on the veranda and one of us would grab the hose and hose the veranda roof. And she would release her cracking sounds and we would very briefly embrace the slight drop in temperature… then sit around and nominate the next one of us to drag our lethargic bones up to do it all again. It was like the heat put anchors on our feet and our brains slowed to crawl.

The first drops of rain landed, the tin cracked overhead and like magic I fell asleep. 

The rain continued the storm unleashed. I woke. Normally, I can happily listen to a storm and fall back asleep. However, my mind went to our boat Saboteur. 

Saboteur is back in the water after getting a new deck. Happy dance…

Her teak deck was old and tired and had started to leak, so we replaced the deck with a fibreglass deck with anti-slip paint (white-on-white). When considering what our new deck options were, putting down new teak, not only was the most expensive option, it is also becomes very hot. Monday delivered with 39 degrees (after all this is Australia). So teak was ruled out very quickly. We are very happy with the results.

I was now wide-awake wondering if:

  • our new deck was leaking…
  • the cover over the aperture waiting for the (absent) mast… was holding up.  

If you recall, we have removed the mast to get the rigging renewed. This leaves a big hole in our boat where the mast goes which I had covered about 3 months ago.

Yesterday was meant to be a writing day, however the storms and my waking thoughts saw me dash out to the boat to check it all out. And the balance of my day just did not flow.

The good news is the deck does not leak…  and the mast hole cover had held up but was really due to be replaced. I replaced the cover and headed back home to my keyboard. Happy to have put my feet back on Saboteur and still in love with her.

Wow… Some relief there.

And I was happy to get back into my writing, even if my day was disjointed.

#liveyourlife #QLDstyle #ThisisAustralia #whatareyouwaitingfor

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