Bring back a six pack of beer.
Sunday 2nd December, 2007.
Yesterday (Saturday) was the wedding of Kaylie and Luke. The wedding ceremony was at Ball’s Head and the reception was at the Waverton Bowling Club. I arranged to stay at Andrew and Monique’s and managed to sneak into the house at some very wee hour without waking anyone.
Kaylie and Luke on their wedding day.
After the reception a number of guests ended up at the Metropolis nightclub in North Sydney as it was the only drinking hole still open. I remember talking politics and philosophy with someone who looked like Lenin. Someone tied a balloon to my beard. It must have been late. I must have been drunk. Eventually I came to my senses and called it a night and left. I hopped into a cab which headed down Miller Street. After travelling only a few metres I asked the taxi driver to pull over and wait. There was the bride standing outside a shop, still in her wedding gown, snacking on a kebab roll! The groom was still inside the shop. I bundled them both into the cab and dropped them off at their hotel and headed back to Greenwich.
Sunday morning, after a beautiful poached egg on toast, Andrew, Monique, the kids and I took off in Andrew’s Zodiac and headed down the harbour. We beached at Milk Beach, just below Strickland House, Vaucluse. We had a swim and a frolic. I opened and ate five delicious, salty, fresh oysters from the rock which sits monolithically in the middle of the beach. A highly illegal activity on Sydney Harbour. Poetic justice was served when I inevitably cut my finger on one of the oyster shells.
Later we motored over and beached on Watsons Bay. Monique went off to the wharf to get us all a feed of fish and chips. As she left I asked her tonge-in-cheek not to forget to bring back a six pack of beer. The kids played on the shore. Andrew and I minded the boat and waited. After a while we wondered where Monique had got to before we noticed her walking back with a stack of fish and chips and a six pack of beer!
Back at Greenwich boat ramp I studied the NSW Fisheries sign on legal fish sizes and bag limits. No mention of a ban on collecting molluscs from Sydney Harbour. It must be a generic sign for all of NSW salt water fishing. If ever I end up in court because I can’t resist eating a Sydney rock oyster or two fresh from the rocks that sign is going to be my defence.
Soon we all parted ways as the Richardsons had a social engagement to attend. Having got a taste of the salt water and sun I decided to head over to Vogelsang and take her out for a sail.
Up with the standard No.2 and main which seems to be the go in moderate to fresh Sydney Harbour winds. An uneventful but very pleasant sail off the mooring and down the harbour. I sailed around Rose Bay quite a bit and sailed right up towards the sea-wall at the end of the Bay.
Woollahra Council has just finished an upgrade to the “promenade”. Part of this upgrade was the controversial removal of yachties dinghies from the sea wall. For donkey’s years, the yachties had been securing their tenders to the sea wall. As part of the restoration of the concrete balustrade and “improved safety” of access to the water, the council, in the brilliant mind of some bloody town planner or Ubermenschliches architect, decided that the dinghies had to go. Instead there is now a dinghy storage rack provided where yachties can, for a fee, store their dinghy up to one kilometre away from their moored boat. So much for water safety or practicality. I sailed along the sea wall between the public moorings from the wharf all the way into the commercial moorings in front of the Rose Bay Marina. I could not see these new dinghy racks. They really must be tucked as far away from the public moorings in as inaccessible a place as possible. I had enough of sailing around so close to so many moored boats and decided to head back out into uncluttered water.
I reached over to Athol Bay near Bradley’s Head and anchored for the night. The evening was peaceful except for a couple of hours when a motor cruiser anchored close by. There was a party onboard. Perhaps a Christmas Party? It is the start of the season. Judging from some snippets of conversation which I could not help but hear, it seemed to be a work party. These people were loud, obnoxious and stupid. I mentally pictured the office they worked in. Some small sales office located in a suburban light industrial complex. I tried to imagine working with such people. It would be impossible. I think I would last 48 hours tops. Thankfully they departed and peace was restored.
Next morning (Monday) I sailed back to Woodford Bay.
