nautical but nice

It surprised no one that there was food left over from Christmas Day. Boxing Day therefore started with Michelle making a cracking bubble and squeak and Adam cooking up bacon on the BBQ to accompany it. By now I felt food dependant in the way that a heroin addict must feel dependent and breakfast went down a treat. I had seconds. Forgot to mention that Christmas Day had started with eggs and bacon and bubbly, the food done on the BBQ. Marvellous stuff, and it was god to have a big breakfast before the eating proper started.

After breakfast (before for Sal) pepole moved off. Sal, having had a whole day without shoping headed to the sales at Erina Fair. She mentioned something about a bin for the kitchen and work clothes and was out of the house at 7:15, fifteen minutes after the shops opened. Jo, Nige, the kids, Mike and Maureen left for more food at Craig and Trish's house and were then going to Mike's sister Mary and husband Rick's house for more food. Mara followed Sal to the shops at a more respectable hour. I went to Putney with Adam, Michelle and Maddie and Maz. Maz is a jack russell I've not mentioned before. She was with us for Christmas, keeping Oscar company and snaping at him if he got ot the food bowl ahead of her. Got all that? There will be a quiz at the end.

My reason for going to Putney was to go boating on the river with Adam. Putney is on the Parramatta River and a boat ramp is a two minute drive from Adam's. The ramp is at Kissing Point; cute name. We unloaded one car, hitched the boat trailer to Adam's other car, grabbed spare fuel (petrol for the 2hp outboard and a couple of beers each for us) then headed to the river. Adam's boat is currently watertight. It's not been that way in the past, but filler and a bit of paint and she looks shabby chic. A small blue fibreglass job that will take a sail, but we went for the lazy option of a tiny outboard.

We puttered along at a gentle pace, perfect for taking in the sights and sounds of the river. Adam has all the practical skills and common sense that I don't. So does his Dad and my father-in-law Mike. Luke, Adam's brother is the same. They put me to shame in actually doing stuff so I am happy to take direction and do my best to not screw things up. And so it was as we made our was east along the river, past parks and flash houses and decidedly unflash houses and moored boats in various states of repair. It was utterly fantastic. The sun shone and we made our way in and out of and across bays. Adam handed the steering duties to me as he took a seat at the pointy end, feet dangling in the river, beer in hand. Steering was facilitated buy a pole that is gaffer-taped to the outboard. It did the job. Steering the thing proved to be quite easy and although it took me a while to get used to the lag when changing directoin - I was a bit wobbly - I avoided oncoming boat traffic and the worst of the wakes kicked up by other river users zipping past on their assorted fishing boats and penis extensions. I kept reminding myself it was boxing day.

We swapped back; I had a beer and felt the warm(ish) water on my toes. We hit our only largish wake while I was up front. It threw a wave up and over the bow and soaked my nuts. The water did not seem quite so warm as on my toes. We went to and under the Gladeseville Bridge before heading back West, passing Kissing Point, going around a nice mangrove bay and then under the Ryde railway bridge and into Homebush Bay. Which stinks. A nasty chemical stink somewhat like creosote. It is being kicked up by the efforts of developers to treat the soil they are about to start building on. In the not too distant past some nasty shit was dumped straight into the river from the now demolished factories. I would not want to live there. We didn't last long in the smelly bay and fled the dioxins to go back to the car. And that is when it started to go pear shaped for me.

We pulled up alongside a small wharf so Adam could go an get the car. I took boat handling duties. It was that or make my first foray into reversing a trailor. I've not driven forwards with a trailor, so did not find collecting the car from the road, spinning it around and backing it down a boat ramp appealing. Instead I bumped into the wharf, Adam jumped clear and I drove the boat straight into some mangroves. Adam gave a holla as he saw what was about to happen. I looked back to see what he was shouting about. A bump and crashing of mangrove branches at the pointy end answered. No damage done, I span the outboard backwards - no reverse gear - and poorly but effectively got myself out. Adam headed for the car and I slowly pottered towards the ramp.

Between the mangroves and the ramp is another jetty and a largish vessel skillfully pulled in and up against it. Right in front of me. In my not-quite-panic-but-getting-close I became obsessed with not hitting this boat and managd to spin our little dingy around several times almost on the spot, getting nowhere, before spinning it in another circle that brought me horribly close to the quite nice boat. A small and unaprreciative audience gathered to watch me come to the end of my first solo baoting voyage. To my utter relief I disappointed the throng by by managing to, eventually, bring our boat to the trailor and cut the engine at the second attempt. Then I narrowly avoid hindering Adam as we hitched her out of the water. A rather shakey end to my nautical adventure and one I am almost ready to look back upon and laugh. Almost.

More chilling followed, then cricket on the idiot box, then pizza and a lift home listening to Adam's Christmas present CD of Billy Birmingham's quite brutally funny Boned 12th Man CD. As it happens his comic quips, directed at the current English cricket team beore the Ashes statred seem to be coming horribly true. Second innings, 125 for 7 as I write, ffs...