The Walk to Wateva

Bundaberg 16/12/2016

 

A  trek alongside the Burnett  River goes  past a solitary windswept tree, which could be a fir or a she-oak,  or any other riverfront genus (I’m not much of a flora or fauna identifier - suggestions invited). 

I call it the whispering tree.  The wind sets up a constant whooshing sound through its foliage, something like the magical sound you hear when you put a conch shell to your ear – the sound of the sea.  It’s EAR-ily beautiful and I appreciate the fact that I have time to stop and listen.

Further on, there’s a bridge across the creek with a metal grated fence, which also sets up its own chorus of harmonic vibrations.

Next there are a few towering Acacia trees (perhaps) with flame red flowers in full bloom. The irridescent green and crimson parrots hide amongst the colours.

Less pleasing are the birds that divebomb me as I walk; (“Plovers”, I’ve been told), making a strident, chattering screech of warning to stay away from their hatchlings. They swoop up close to my face, then veer away at the last minute, before coming in again from the rear. I’ve been told they have barbs on their wings and could do some damage if they make contact, so my heart skips a few beats on each attack.  A suggestion is to wear sunglasses on the back of my hat, but I doubt the effectiveness of this, given that the forward facing sunglasses don’t seem to deter them.

Across the field, Mike keeps his catamaran, “Wateva” tied back to a tree.   He is the friend whose industrial sewing machine, hot knife, and other useful gadgets I occasionally get to use.

At all but high tide, he  sits high and dry near the grassy bank in his own private little hideaway.  A herd of kangaroos protect him from intruders – another potential danger to avoid – the kangaroos that is. 

 The big bucks are quite territorial and can bound faster than a speeding car.  Apparently they can lean back on their hind legs and claw you to shreds if they don’t like the look of you.  Mike says they only come out before rain so there haven’t been too many around lately. 

I can always hide behind tall Mark, the now-famous “Shagger” interviewed for the “Creek to Coast” TV coverage of the Shag Islet 2016 Rendezvous (mentioned in one of my earlier blogs.)  Mark was the one weilding the paint roller, doing a stirling job of antifouling Shanti when she was up on the hard.   I can never express enough gratitude for all the help received since I have been here in Bundaberg.

In fact, it reminds me of the willing workers who contributed their time so generously in Melbourne to help see me on my way last year. I just hope I can live up to it.  Someone asked me recently if my passion was still as strong for this venture of circumnavigating the globe and I was pleased to find the fire in the belly was still alight.

 

But now it's time for a necessary interlude, shaking out a few more of Shanti's glitches and waiting out the cyclone season here in Bundaberg before starting north again next year. 

Only one more day here before I fly  to Melbourne and then over to NZ, so last chance to tick off a couple more boat jobs.

When I was in Townsville, my electrician friend, Colin Grazules, fitted a 7 stage battery charger under the quarter berth.  This is a great way to keep the batteries fully charged while plugged into shore power at a marina, (not something I had planned on doing a lot of).  It does tend to get quite hot in that enclosed space, so I cut a hole in the fibreglass bulkhead to fit a plastic vent.

 

The other hole that I had ‘inadvertently’ cut in the ceiling still caused me grief.  The small piece of wood made to cover it should have been varnished like its mates, but I thought it would be less conspicuous if painted the same colour as the ceiling.  Wrong again.  Even the slightest mismatch of shade and it stands out like the proverbial, so I bought some paint stripper and scraped it back to bare wood again.  It seemed like a good opportunity to varnish the teak around the companionway at the same time, which was looking very weatherworn.  Be good if I had a couple more days for a couple more coats - maybe when I get back.

 

Another small job was to re-seal around the chain plates.  Keeping water out of boats seems to be a perrenial process.   

 

I had gooped these down when I re-rigged in Melbourne, but one had started to leak again.  I say “small” job because it only took me an hour to scrape the old goop off from underneath, whilst sitting out in the 35 degree heat. 

Did I mention how hot it is here?  Quite consistently so, unlike Melbourne.  Generally around low 30’s during the day and mid 20’s overnight.  Fantastic really, so long as you don’t want to do too much work outdoors.

 The local watering hole has become a bit of a regular destination, which for a non-drinker like me, is rather surprising.  But it’s airconditioned and I’ve discovered pear cider in a glass full of ice goes down well.  Mike, Mark, and a few other bods spend a few dollars there and enjoy a few laughs.

 Next week it will be the Sandy yachtie, now that I’ve learned how to drink.  I look forward to seeing some familiar faces.