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
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.
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.
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…
The night is peaceful and calm. Martin has had a busy day readying the boat for tomorrow’s sail. We have set ourselves a goal of going sailing every second weekend. After all we are still learning. As we ready, my mind reflects back to our sail two weeks ago.
—
Sunday came and we awoke with excitement and a little trepidation, as we were going to not only put the sails through their paces, but it was the first time the three animals had been sailing. Time will tell how the animals will go. We (humans and animals both)are all learning and adjusting to life on board. Finally, we were able to turn our attention to the boat and putting her new sails through their paces.
We readied the boat. Put most extra items away down below. Everything needs a home. When you go on board someone’s you boat can immediately tell whether they regularly take it out by how many items they have to put away. For us the galley is typically always cleared and if anything, it is the clean dishes that need to be put away. Notwithstanding, the two sink design is set up so that the draining tray sits in the second larger sink and nothing could fall out if left there. It just might move around a little. The heads and the Nav station are tidied. Laptops and my iMac are the main things to put away. We have been gradually finding homes for things.
We forgot to go through the “IF WOBBLE” check list before we depart (apologies to Elliot our International Day skipper instructor).
Easy mistake for an absolute beginner but also easy for us to say it should all be working as, after all everything is brand new. And we are still learning.
I = Isolate. (Disconnect shore power and stow the power cable properly, check there are no lines [ropes] on the water) F = Fuel (check you have sufficient fuel for the journey)
Now the above is all pretty obvious, and I got that. The following will make sense, however on a boat you need to be across all of these and check them every time. As I said I am still learning. My training was back in July 2019 in the beautiful Whitsundays. It has been a year now and we are finally at a point where we can do these checks on our boat before sailing. And it has been 6 months since we did our engine maintenance course. Confession: I have had to look some of this up to write this post. I don’t mind as it helps my learning and remembering…
All the while I have David Bowies words in my head – Absolute Beginners.
W = Water Check that the cock allowing seawater to the heat exchanger is open. Then after the engine has started, check the cooling water from the exhaust and for 30 seconds afterwards.
O = Oil You would check it the same way you would in your car, just got to remember where it is on our engine. We have a new engine if you recall.
B = Belt Again, just like your car. I need to learn what the right tension feels like, and for that matter how to change an engine belt.
We are half way there now. Still learning… It is kind of funny to be learning the obvious.
B = Bilge Here we are meant to lift a few floorboards to check for water in the hull, just in case the automatic bilge pumps are not working.
L = Leaks I assume here we check for leaks anywhere in the engine, any pipe connections etc. In theory we should be pretty good in this space as all our pipes are new as well.
E = Electrics & Exhaust Here we turn on the electrics, our navigation, our depth finder and wind instruments, radio and switch to the local channel where they regularly report the weather conditions and any incidents to avoid etc. As well as the engine exhaust extraction pump, otherwise the boat will be full of engine fumes.
As I said we pretty much forgot to run through this check list but ended up somehow doing the obvious ones, disconnect the power slip the lines, turn on the engine exhaust pump etc.
Our neighbours come on board with a fresh brew of coffee. It smells amazing and we are happy to be sharing this trip with Daniel Cooke and Sarah Schwaner. With fresh coffee and enthusiasm, we slipped our lines and Martin beautifully guided Saboteur off the finger allowing the tide to gently drift Saboteur out of our pen . He turned her to head out of the marina and we commenced our trip along the Coomera river towards the Southport Seaway though the Southport bar into open ocean. (and back again).
We had two goals; to test the new mainsail and staysail, including our ability to raise and lower the Main from our new LeisureFurl boom. And also to test the animals and see what their sea legs are like.
In the morning I gave all three of them a very small dose of an anti-anxiety drug provided to me by the vet. It worked a treat on the cat; however I am not sure it affected on the dogs.
The cat was locked in our bedroom and his litter tray was handy in the ensuite. While he did not like the loud engine noise, we had no complaints from him about being locked in the bedroom. And more importantly he did not throw up. I checked in on him a few times and he spent most of the day snoozing on our bed.
The dogs are always happiest when they are with us.
Always by my side.
By with us I mean near us. The dogs started our journey below deck while we slipped the lines. While this was happening, they were sitting at the base of the companion way whingeing about not being in the cockpit where all the action was happening. As soon as we were underway, they joined us in the cockpit with their life jackets on, clipped on to their leads that was strapped to the safety line. They have been trained to sit were we tell them to. Most of the time they followed this order. When they stray they usually return to their spot on instruction. They were once again happy. We put them below when we crossed the bar and brought them back to the cockpit again when we were in the open water. Like Zac, the dogs did not throw up. This made us both relieved.
As we headed to towards the Southport Bar, I went below and radioed into the Gold Coast Seaway coast guard our intentions for the day.
Confession time again, I truly could not remember what I was meant to do and say, and even though Martin reminded me before I disappeared down the companion way, it was like my nerves had erased my memory.
I grabbed my training book and I kid you not, it fell open on the page I needed. Then, I had to work out how to slide the hand piece of the radio, press the button and remember to say over.
I had to turn down the volume of the radio as it had been loud so we could hear it with the wind and background noise etc.
“Coastguard, Coastguard This is SV (Sailing vessel) Saboteur” (I forgot to say over). “SV can you repeat”. “Coastguard Coastguard This is SV Saboteur Over”. “Saboteur can you turn to Channel 73 please”. In my mind, ahhh which dials do I turn…I find it and rush past the channel and back again. And so, I find Channel 73. “Coastguard this is SV Saboteur Over…”
With that we exchange the required details, Vessel, plan, number of people (I leave off the 3 animals), mobile phone and they wish us a fun sail. I go back upstairs.
The bar crossing was not too bad.
I have had plenty worse and so we found ourselves out in the open water of the Coral Sea for the first time. We are used to sailing in Moreton Bay with a collection of islands to pick from for our destination. Beyond heading east and testing our sails we had not really decided what our plans where.
We had followed another sail-boat across the bar. It appeared to be a training boat as it had about 10 or 12 people on it. We watched them hoist their sails and see them flap aimlessly due to the absence of wind. Where was the forecast 5 to 10 knots? In the absence of wind we had the engine gently purring while we bounced around in the ocean swell; this was uncomfortable.
Surprisingly, we were queasy…
We being Martin, Sarah and myself. This was a first for me (other than with my brother-in-law’s driving that is). I have been in rough seas with 80% of the passengers throwing up. I was kind of disappointed to be queasy. Not of the disheartening variety, but disappointing, nevertheless.
Not to be deterred, we raised our new mainsail. It was beautiful (and easy). And despite the 2m swell and our queasiness, we congratulated ourselves on the investment we made for the boom furling mainsail. We wanted to make sailing easy for our bodies as we gracefully age. OK I am talking about me now ha, ha… Our friend Dan was super impressed with how easy raising our mainsail was. And so we rolled in the swell for a bit waiting for any skerrick of breeze, but there was none to have. Captain Marty decided to head back in. With Skipper Dan at the wheel we headed back towards the bar. I popped below deck and called in to the coast guard to tell them of our pending return and went back upstairs.
Our disappointment did not last long.
Back inside the bar we could relax
Back inside the bar our queasiness started to lift. It did not go away… It lingered for a while. Pleasantly surprising, we got some light breeze and we were able unfurl the inner staysail. She looked wonderful. Then before we knew it, we were at the mouth of the Coomera river and heading back to our marina. The setting sun was beautiful, conversation was easy. Sarah and Dan were the perfect friends to have on board. Dan’s experience and Sarah’s eye for beauty and her enthusiasm for life balanced our nervousness about our own adventures… Each time we aim to test something we practically hold our breath as we wait to see if it was a sound investment (or not). And so we furled our staysail as we turned into the Coomera river. And I could feel my breathing return.
I enjoyed the contentment that came with being happy. And I was. From here there were so many magic moments. Sarah grabbing her camera and taking photos of the wallabies on the edge of the Coomera river, moments of touch and connection as we relaxed while the afternoon passed behind us.
We were approaching the marina and Martin took over the helm. If you recall the last attempt to dock was very stressful. Today the weather conditions were totally different, perfectly calm, and a little breeze.
We approach the finger and Martin picked his spot to turn. He nailed it and docked perfectly so we could easily step off and tie off our lines.
We celebrated with a couple of drinks.
Sarah and I disappeared for a second sunset paddle.
We enjoyed an awesome dinner.
—
And so as I tell the tale of our last sailing adventures it is now Friday evening. We had a lovely dinner with our friend Bill Fuller. He has just left and Martin has gone to bed. It has just gone 10pm. Zac wants to go for his evening walk. The dogs are sitting beside me snoozing. I have just finished my cuppa; the marina is very still. And everything feels right, just right.
Transitions, transitions, transitions… It is official, our transition from the house is complete. We handed the keys back on Saturday 11 July. The last 6 months has felt like a time warp and to borrow from The Hit Crew; “and nothing can ever be the same”.
What if…? I get back to this question later?
While it has been 5 days since we handed the keys back, we have now been sleeping and eating on the boat for two weeks and three days. This transition from a perfectly normal and beautifully set up home to a small boat could either be described as an over-abundance of courage or straight, outright foolishness. Or both, I hear you say…
While Martin Lloyd and I both have a sense of adventure there was always a risk that we were romanticising the idea of living on a boat. After all, for our honeymoon we went sailing. That was five and half years ago. Martin would occasionally ask me somewhat rhetorically,
“are we romanticising the whole adventure?”
Well it is too late now… And in fairness I was the one that was always excited… I have said so many times that I could not wait:
~ to be on the boat (tick). ~ end the trips back to the house (tick).
I can’t wait to go sailing… Planned for Saturday… Woohoo – happy dance…
Finally you say. I can feel your joy for us bounce through on-line waves. Don’t get too excited, we are not heading off on our big voyage. It will be a day sail as we want to test our new staysail. And just for fun we want to… uh no, we need to practice docking again. If you missed the dramas of our last attempt to dock the 18 tonnes of uncooperative Saboteur (the bouncing off other boats) and if you want a good laugh at our expense, grab a cuppa, jump in and follow this link. Part of our transition process is after all, learning new skills. Even if they scare the beegeebers out of us.
Transitions bring up many and often mixed emotions. Somewhere during a coffee break in the blur and time warp of the final days of packing, Bill Fuller (Marty’s friend and former band mate from 50 years ago) asked,
“What’s it like on the boat now that you are finally on the boat?”
To which Martin replied, “I am feeling excited or is it panic? I’m not sure. How do you tell the difference?”
Bill replied, “Don’t bother, just sit back and enjoy it”.
To which we all laughed…
And so our transition, while it has had many tangible components to it, it is the unspoken or deeply personal components that makes this change interesting, emotional and even complex.
I am finding my awareness of the transition moments tends to come with a sigh of relief. Some expected, some not so.
Probably the first significant transition moment for me was seeing Zac (our cat) explore and settle into the boat. I could feel my face break out into the hugest grin as he placed his paws on the edge of the cockpit and looked out. Not out of fear (certainly cautious) but out of curiosity. And I felt myself sigh with relief. We had spoken with the vet who had provided us with a stash of anti-anxiety tablets, which we only ended up using on the day we moved.
~
The second transition moment, in a way, had nothing and everything to do with living on the boat. It is symbolic of life changes. One of the reasons we purchased our first boat together was that Martin had had a serious race-bike accident that nearly killed him, resulting in a manic period in our lives starting with 3 hospitals in three days and 3 months in a wheelchair. It appeared as if he would not race again.
For someone that viewed himself as racer-boy, to be unable to race which he has done all his life has been difficult. Even more so when he had no choice but to retire from racing. In time, he recovered from all his injuries and gained pretty much full range in his knee, and so we bought our boat. In Martin’s mind he could now transition from being racer-boy to Captain Marty. Sailing has also been a serious passion of his. We loved our old boat but within 18 months we sold her and bought Saboteur.
Back to the track.
Martin was planning to do a track day with a mate. The last hoorah so to speak and had asked his mechanic to put new tyres on the bike and give it a service. His mechanic took a photo of Martin’s race bike and posted it online. Martin’s mates recognised it and started asking questions; “Is Marty back racing?” to which he shared that he is just doing a track day and then he received many beautiful comments from guys he raced with all over Australia. Some of the local guys (Ben Lowe, Brad Lesueur, Kurt Grainger, Barry Grainger booked in to ride with Marty on the track day) and the interstate guys (David James, Birdsey (Aka William Birdsey) and others) expressed their wish to be on the track with him once again. It was beautiful and brought tears to my eyes.
You really don’t want your last memory of your last race to be being taken away in an ambulance.
A massive thank you to the paramedics and all medical staff who cared for him.
He had not returned to the track (that track or any other track for that matter in 2 1/2 years). And so it was with great trepidation for me and a mixture of excitement and fear for Martin that we went back to the “scene of the crime”.
I was focused on minimising the voice in my head…
What if… he falls, ~ breaks a leg (I will put a bed in the shed and he can wheel himself to the amenities block! And I told him that!) ~ breaks his collarbone again (the Surgeon has told him he can not reconstruct it again. He has broken one collarbone four times and the other twice!) ~ and it delays our plans to sail…
I will be forever grateful that there were no falls and no broken bones.
I will be forever grateful to his friends that came and the conversations, stories and comradeship between great mates.
And then afterwards, the dialogue they shared in Messenger about how happy they were to be able to be on the track with him again, and what it meant to them.
Thank you to Ben, Kurt, Brad and Barry…
I am forever grateful.
And so Martin transitions from racer-boy to Captain Marty and he can turn his focus to new skills. If only Saboteur turned as easily as his race bike.
~
Another transition moment was Martin having a discussion with his boss and telling him we are not running away anytime soon and that he will give him three months’ notice. That feels right.
~
And finally for me, an unexpected transition moment has been falling in love with writing.
Over the past 11 months there have been almost 45 posts to our blog www.whatareyouwaitingfor.guru, and I have fallen in love with writing.
What was my worst nightmare at school (writing) is now my number 1 passion.
I get cranky when I don’t have time to write.
It has taken over my passion for painting. I have 3 unfinished paintings in the shed that I would like to finish before we set sail. Maybe I will, and maybe I won’t. I have a painting in a girlfriend’s studio that I will finish. Just to hang out with her again in her studio will be wonderful.
And so it is with Transitions, Time Warps and the occasional U-Turns, we need to know what you are moving away from and what you are moving towards.
In our case, it is not just a house to a boat, it is an identify shift as Marty transitions from racer-boy to sailor-boy, and I, corporate girl to sailor-girl.
And more than anything else, I am loving being a writer.
