Weekend after weekend, throughout the summer months, this elegant houseboat moves from its private mooring two-hundred metres upriver to this public mooring two-hundred metres downriver, directly opposite Riverbend.
Its permanent mooring is between the other two houseboats to the right
Like the legendary Flying Dutchman, it silently moves downriver, with never anybody to be seen behind its tinted panoramic windows. Then, at the end of the weekend, just as silently, and with seemingly no-one on board, it moves back up two-hundred metres to its private mooring.
It is said to belong to an erstwhile — how I have been waiting for a chance to use that word! — prospective buyer of "Riverbend", who sought us out in 2011, salivating while saying, "We want lots of land!"
They then decided that $2 million for a substantial two-storey brick home on 7 acres of totally private waterfront was too much, and bought what could only be described as a nicely converted fishing shack on 1900 square metres of land for $950,000 just across the lane from us.
But they didn't stop there: a few months later, they bought the last remaining vacant block next to them for another $750,000. Now they were the owners of a converted fishing shack on 3800 sqare metres of land, all at the price of $1,700,000 versus "Riverbend" for $2,000,000.
But they didn't stop there either: tired of — what? — life in the country or the ever-gossiping neighbours, they sold up again: the fishing shack went for a mere $750,000 and the vacant block for a low $500,000.
So what's he doing now moored off "Riverbend"? Bemoaning his loss of $450,000? (before stamp duty, commission, and legals) Or bemoaning he didn't buy "Riverbend"? Like the Flying Dutchman, we will never know.
Yesterday was the first day of autumn, so perhaps last weekend was the last we saw, or rather, not saw, of him until the start of next summer.
Googlemap Riverbend