Another aspect of sailing that I like is the way it forces you to be resourceful. Whether it is steeling myself to climb the mast to replace a light globe, like on Friday, or reverse-parking this twelve-metre long boat into our tight marina berth, even these small tasks can make me feel a great sense of accomplishment. When the weather is against us we know we can trust the boat but are always aware that something could break and we might need to make running repairs, or use our wits to get out of a tricky situation. Even with a boat as new as ours, there are always things to maintain or repair. This trip began with Derek diving six metres below the boat in the marina to recover a part of our barbecue that had accidentally fallen overboard at the end of our regatta fireworks night. That was a dive I didn’t volunteer to do! And it gave Derek a chance to try out our new hookah dive system in the sea. He retrieved the part, removing a small marine ecosystem from its bowl in the process, however the bottom had rusted through. This trip we have also had to replace two fuses, top up the fluid in the depth transducer and repair Derek’s glasses, which he accidentally trod on. There’s also a rusted nut on the dinghy’s oar-lock we are yet to tackle, and now the toilet has sprung a leak!
My friend Anne has been our regular sailing companion since we bought the boat, almost nine years ago. She has always been resourceful when it comes to catering, and usually comes laden with fresh produce from her garden, and freshly cooked goddies. Back then she was single, but she’s since added to her usefulness by meeting and marrying Andrew, aka McGyver. Andrew is a lawyer, but his skills include diesel mechanic (oh, so handy when you have a 40hp motor inboard), metalworker, lift designer and builder and general handyman – oh and he’s good company, and not too bad at cards and board-games.
Andrew earned his nickname during our first trip to Port Davey, in Tasmania’s extensive World Heritage South-west Wilderness Area. Derek and I had sailed the boat around this rugged coastline with a boatload of fit young adventurers (our daughter included) who then walked the South-Coast track back to Cockle Creek. A few days later, Anne and Andrew flew in to meet us on a tiny plane that landed at the Melaleuca airstrip. During the intervening days we had been battered by a strong easterly weather system – unusual for this area which is usually subject to strong westerlies. We had spent a few uncomfortable and frankly frightening nights at anchor in 50+ knot winds. Our bow-rollers were damaged by the anchor chain bashing back and forth, but more worryingly our inflatable dinghy had been blown over not once, but twice! The first time the outboard motor, which we had unwisely left attached, had taken a dunking, and Derek had pulled it apart to dry and clean its components. The second time we’d lost the two seats, with their covers, and half an oar.
If there’s somewhere you need to be resourceful, it’s Port Davey and Bathurst Harbour. Andrew foraged around behind the old house at Clayton’s Corner and before we knew it, he’d fashioned a new oar-blade from a piece of timber. It was just like an episode of that 80’s tv show, where McGyver can build anything from a piece of string and a rubber band to get himself out of a pickle. So the name has stuck and that oar was so good we never replaced it, until last Christmas Anne and Andrew gifted us a new set.
Yesterday we picked up Anne and Andrew at Copper Alley Bay, just south of Cygnet. Before he came, Andrew had cut out a steel disc to fit the bottom of the barbecue. It worked a treat, and a few hours later we were enjoying perfectly sizzled steak and roast vegetables cooked on our little Cobb. Followed by a few board-games and a round of cards, which Andrew diplomatically lost! And this morning he fixed the leaky toilet as well.