Hanging around

We’ve been based in the Brisbane River for several weeks now, waiting out the cyclone season. It’s been a productive time with the Captain making the brave decision that a wind farm was required (to Matey’s great relief). With many overcast days the solar panels were struggling to ensure computers and phones don’t sit idle. Oh, and important navigational instruments need power too. Said wind generator has arrived and just needs to be installed.

A visit from Jesse and Kelly meant a jaunt into Moreton Bay. In the first part of the week the weather was disappointing – with overcast days and strong winds – we clocked 50 knot winds one day and sailing was uncomfortable. There’s nothing like nasty weather though to inspire appreciation of the good stuff when it arrives. We spent the first night at Mud Island, aptly named as Jesse quickly got onto the job of catching crabs – and we had blue swimmer crab salad. Delicious!

We welcomed the new year from St Helena Island, a prison farm in former times. We could see the fireworks in Brisbane (just, thanks to the overcast skies). Fortunately there was an early set on for Captain and Matey, who were slumbering long before midnight. Then the weather and wind direction improved enough for us to be able to stay at the lovely Moreton Island. Finally we had blue sky and turquoise waters, snorkeling, walks along the beach and drinks at sunset (and beyond). Not surprisingly, Tangalooma was crowded with boats, 4WDs and campers. Most people behaved themselves fairly well though, apart from speeding jetskiers (who received a stern warning from Captain Plod) and some campers who were overly generous in sharing their tasteful music. We’ve since heard there’s bushfire at Moreton Island thanks to a careless camper’s gas bottle …

Back at Brisbane River, we’re becoming better acquainted with the fellow boat people and Captain can’t be restrained from parties each night. He’s particularly fond of his charismatic new French friend and after promising to have a night off, last night Matey had to shoo the apparently reluctant Captain off to the irresistible Francois’ mega catamaran so he could get his daily fix and help dispatch a surviving bottle of plonk to the recycling bin. Rarely do you meet someone so talented in so many areas of life (two PhDs in unrelated fields, an extraordinary CV, speaker of several languages — with a delicious French accent, of course — PC and Mac meister, sailor extraordinaire, life of any party, charmer, and the list goes on. He radiates warmth and joie de vivre. Matey would die happy if she achieved half of what he has in his lifetime – but there is no chance of that. We bask in his glow and enjoy his company while we have it.

Today, to Matey’s delight, the replacement oar locks for the dinghy finally arrived, ending a frustrating few weeks during which the dingy motor had to be relied on for every trip ashore. The oar locks finally completely broke (fortunately when Captain was rowing so Matey could no longer be blamed for rowing too roughly). Meanwhile though Matey’s once-proud rowing muscles have disintegrated to flab.