Lakes Entrance

Special guest contributor Matt (some embellishment for the sake of the story follows)

Having arrived at Lakes Entrance and finding a nice four hour berth that would be our home for the next week, about 50 metres from the pub, it was time to undertake some general maintenance and running repairs on the boat. To undertake the repair someone had to go up the mast on the bosuns chair. After losing consistently and getting to best of 4 out of 7 in a game of ‘rock, paper, scissors’ (Is there anything in the world that can beat Rock? good ‘ol Rock never fails….), I went up the mast and Lisa manned the winch.

After inspecting and identifying the faulty part and removing it, I was ready to come down. The adrenalin was pumping as I relied on Lisa to ease me down using the winch. A few slips on the winch, a few choice words and my heart rate was about 320bpm. Adrenalin is very much like a double black espresso coffee in as much that it gets your heart pumping. Having safely arrived back on the deck with the pulley that was beyond repair, I got out of the chair and made my way along the deck.

Lisa enquired as to why I was walking like a bowlegged crab. My reply in my best pirates voice was “Arrrr, all ye cool sailors be doing it” as I made my way below decks to the head (toilet). It was there that my worst fears were confirmed. This repair had suddenly gotten more expensive. In addition to the pully that was beyond repair, I would also need to add a pair of shorts to the tab as they were also beyond saving. But on the bright side I can also confirm another similarity between coffee and adrenalin.

Another job on the list was to extend the anchor chain. The boat has 50 metres of chain which allows us to anchor in up to about 10 metres of water. The general rule of thumb is to let 5 times the length out for the depth to ensure the anchor holds. Given our plans I wanted to add 50 metres of rope to the chain. I discussed options with Trevor ‘Chook’ Omara from Leftrade Gear Store. I said to him that I would be certain to remember his name as my brother’s name was also Trevor. After a bit of back and forth, a cunning plan was agreed upon. He would come to the boat on Monday and assured me he could splice rope onto a chain. To be perfectly honest, I was a little bit dubious of Trevor based on my previous experience with Trevor’s and wasn’t expecting much but hot air and excuses.

Unfortunately, Lisa had to return to Melbourne the next day (Sunday) as her Dad was in the CCU at Monash Hospital (he had a successful procedure and is ok now), which left me on my own for an undetermined amount of time. At first I was despondent and very lost emotionally. Much like Kevin McCallister in Home Alone when he first realised his family had disappeared. But after some contemplation and soul searching I was like Kevin McCallister a few moments later in Home Alone when he realised his family had disappeared. It is debatable who arrived at the positive conclusion quicker, but for the sake of harmony on the boat moving forward it would be helpful to agree that Kevin got there far quicker than I did.

On Monday I rode my bike to the boat shop to see Trevor. He said he would come down to the boat and see what he could do. Trev, as I called him now cos we were mates, was extremely helpful and spliced the rope onto the chain in no time at all. It was only about 10am and he was done. A job that would have taken me all day. Splicing is very similar to braiding hair but it’s called splicing because it sounds far more manly. It joins the rope to the chain and allows the join between the rope and chain to feed through the winch and will not pull apart under load. I paid Trev the fee and gave him a 6 pack of Carlton for his troubles. I think it was partly because I was in shock that a Trevor had a practical skill.

As he left it dawned on me that perhaps this is what the unemployed sociology majors who have a minor in lesbian dance theory call “unconscious bias.” With the liberty of time on my side, I retired to my hammock to contemplate my epiphany and did not arise until well into the afternoon.

After dinner that night I set up the camera and the telescope and took some pictures of the moon.

On the boat we have made room for 3 surfboards and 2 mountain bikes…… Plus about 3 dozen bottles of red wine but that’s another story. I had put the mountain bikes together shortly after arriving in Lakes Entrance. With Lisa’s departure I had packed hers away and planned on going for a mountain bike ride. I had previously been to the local bike shop, Venture Out, and asked about the local trails and to purchase a few things. I was told the place to go was only about 10 kms up the highway; Colquhoun. I took off on my ride. It felt good to put the lycra back on.

The bike I have is a hardtail mountain bike with 27.5 + tyres. If your average Beach Road rider on his or her carbon fibre road bike is the equivalent of a sports car then my mountain bike is the equivalent of a jacked up 4wd with chunky tyres that you can hear coming from about 3 streets away. After huffing and puffing for about 45 minutes I made it to the turnoff to the trails and commenced the ride. It was about 20 kms of some really nice single trail. One section was called Lollypop. It was kind of like a halfpipe where the trail crosses up and down a gully. Gravity would take you down and momentum would take you to the top. If you are in the area and are into that kind of thing it’s worth checking out.

About three quarters through the mountain bike track you go along the rail trail. This is basically a gravel path and not normally much fun, but that is where I saw it. At first I wasn’t sure what it was. A beast of some unknown lineage off in the distance. I stopped as it was big. It looked kind of like some mutant Clydesdale. A large body and head but with very short stumpy legs. It was in the middle of the path about 200 metres away. I had sensed it, and more to the point, it had sensed me and started to move….fast. For a few seconds, and at the distance it was from me, I was not immediately sure if it was moving towards me or away from me. It scampered away and into the scrub, then it pounced up a tree. The beast I had observed was a goanna that was big enough to be a stunt double in the next instalment of Jurassic Park.

We eyed each other as our paths crossed and I continued my ride. I did see another one, but this one was obviously the runt of the litter and only about the size of a Shetland pony so I managed to snap a few pictures of it

I finshed the ride and made my way back to town and to the boat. As a treat I had a medium half Hawaiian and half Americana and a can of coke for dinner… plus a few scotchies on the rocks as I watched the sun set over the horizon and took a few snaps.

The next few days were spent pining for Lisa. I was missing her terribly and the dishes were starting to pile up. On the day before she returned I went to the lookout I had ridden past on my mountain bike ride with my camera and tripod before sunset. I set up and waited for the magic to happen. The lookout was just on the highway on the main road out of town and only about 2 kms from the boat. There were several places to view the sunset from and it was quite a show. I took about 832 photos from a few different vantage points and one turned out pretty good.

Thanks for reading. As there is no TV on the boat, the songs of the week on Spotify were:

Let your love flow – Bellamy Brothers

Wildflowers – Tom Petty

Your love – Outfield

Take it on the run – Reo Speedwagon

Tuesdays Gone – Lynyrd Skynyrd

In fact, all these songs and more can be found on the Spotify playlist called “Yacht Rock.” Lisa and I were the 567,032 follower to this list, why don’t you be the 567,033 follower? If you have the means, it gets the big tick from me.

I’ve added these last paragraphs separate to the rest. It’s about moments of truth, a realisation of a dream. Goals achieved. I’ve been very lucky to be able to dream so big with the honest expectation of achieving my dreams. I am lucky to be in the position I am. The feeling of standing on the bow of your own yacht as it slices through the ocean with nothing but the wind to propel it is a unique and humbling experience. There have been many moments where emotions have swept over me and overwhelmed me in the past weeks.

To do things on your own timeline, on your own terms, to detach from Monday to Friday, is a freeing experience. Several months ago I encouraged a person I used to work with to chase their dreams with the advice that the effort was worth it, even if you fell short of your target as so there are so many people who don’t even try for fear of failure. In the past few weeks I have seen, experienced and done things I never thought I would and Lisa and I are only a month into our adventure.

Life is great.

This blog will be returning to normal programming next week.