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Today's quote:

Thursday, February 19, 2026

A Speck in the ocean

 

 

Few have heard of the incredible voyage of this intrepid German, who spent seven years and four months paddling a collapsible kayak from his native town of Altona in Hamburg all the way to Thursday Island in the Torres Strait.

Oskar Speck was born in 1907, one of five siblings. Just after graduation, he started working as an electrical contractor in a factory that closed in 1932 during the Great Depression. With no prospect of work, the keen canoeist and outdoor enthusiast saw this as an opportunity to take his collapsible kayak Sunnschien (sunshine) and venture to Cyprus to try his luck in the copper mines.

Sunnschien was a double kayak produced by the German manufacturer Pionier Faltboots (which would become his biggest sponsor) which Speck modified for single use, leaving room for storage of equipment, clothing and provisions. The flexible wooden frame allowed it to be folded into a small bundle for carriage and storage.

With a small sum of money collected by the sale of his belongings and contributions from his family, Speck set off from Hamburg on 13 May 1932, when Hitler was almost unknown. Armed with a kayak, two paddles, a camera, film, clothing, a pistol, documents, sailing charts and a prismatic compass, he paddled down the Danube through central Europe towards the Mediterranean.

 

 

During his voyage he kept in touch with family and friends by letters. Through them he learnt about the changes of the political panorama in both Germany and the rest of Europe. He kept the letters with the hope of one day writing a book about his voyage.

Once in Cyprus, he quickly realised that this nautical adventure was more enticing than working in the mines, so he decided to continue to Syria and then to challenge himself by paddling down almost the whole length of the Euphrates. ‘I wanted much more to make a kayak voyage that would go down in history’ (The Australian Post, 1956).

While waiting for a replacement kayak after his broke in the Persian Gulf, he contracted malaria, a disease that would accompany him for the rest of his voyage. Pionier replaced Oskar’s kayak four times in total, and in return, used Oskar’s adventures and photographs to promote their products.

He then continued to India and paddled his way along the coast. It was 1935 and Oskar was already a well-known figure in Germany, as many magazines and newspapers were reporting on his voyage. Capitalising on this and his good English he gave talks and presentations to mostly English expats who were more than happy to donate to the cause and recommend him to other connections living in Asia.

‘In Germany, I was a recognised kayakist before 1932. As my voyage progressed and reports of it went home from Cyprus, Greece, from India, I became acknowledged as the most experienced sea-going kayak expert in the world.’

During 1936 Speck paddled his way along the Bay of Bengal, Malacca Strait and the Dutch East Indies. While in Singapore, he collected another kayak and paddled on to Indonesia. During this time, he was pressing friends and papers to get more coverage of his story but the political turmoil in Europe and the Olympic Games were getting all the attention.

 

 

Malaria and the monsoon slowed Oskar’s progress and he only managed to get to the coast of Dutch New Guinea in 1938. Here, the authorities were unsure if the German visitor should be arrested or permitted to continue his trip. After more delays, he finally continued to Australia.

 

 

On his arrival to Daru Island, the officer in charge decided not to arrest Oskar but instead let him complete his dream and reach Australia. But it was his luck that in September 1939 two constables were waiting for him at Thursday Island. After congratulating him for his feat, the officers told him that he was now classified as an ‘enemy’ and had to be arrested and transferred to an internment camp.

 

 

After a month in Thursday Island, he was transferred to Brisbane and then Tattura Interment in Victoria. He escaped the camp but was quickly recaptured and sent to South Australia until his release at the end of the war.

Oskar had kept all the letters and newspapers clippings in preparation for the talks and conferences he was to give and the book he was going to write.

‘So ended one of the most fantastic and dangerous voyages ever accomplished by an individual … I have reached my goal, but not one of the numerous doubters would ever find out and my modest success in reaching Australia in my folding boat would be swallowed up in the imminent global catastrophe’.

Sadly for Oskar, by the time he was ready to tell his story and show the world images of his amazing voyage, the world had moved on, so he never got to be the hero he dreamed of being.

 

Sydney airport arrival card August 1970

 

However, having learnt about opals during his internment as Prisoner of War, he became a successful opal dealer, and spent the rest of his life in Australia. As he concluded in an interview with the Australasian Post, "Australia has proved a good goal. I have many friends here, and I have built my home here, on the Pittwater, near Sydney. I hope to visit Germany again, but Australia is where I belong now." He died in 1993.

 


Googlemap Riverbend

 

Wednesday, February 18, 2026

I'm slowly learning how to ride a unicycle

 

For a look at the online advertisement, click here

 

An ocker voice on the phone, G'day, mate. Youse still selling the place? Emma chisit?" Almost told him I didn't know her, put you can't judge a caller by his voice, can you - or can you? "Somewhere north of three million", I said. "Too much, mate" was his answer, and hung up.

Ten minutes later a text message, "$2.3 cash sale if you have a change of heart, thanks." I texted back, "No change of heart as my heart is not foolish; however, if you're serious, raising a million dollars in finance with $2.3million in cash would be a walk in the park (ahem! Bank)."

Quick as a flash, "We could do $2.7m cash. We don't like loans, sorry. Not to be rude but the house is very dated and needs a lot of work. I think 1.7m suffices the land etc." (Our land valuation is $2,637,000!)

Which called for a longer reply, "You are not being rude, and you would be stupid to pay above market just as I would be stupid to sell below it. Trouble is there isn't much of a market to compare to in the case of a property in as unique a location as this, so we are both left to our own assessment and imagination. I have already rejected a previous $2.9 million offer and never regretted it. No need to be polite and say the house is dated. It's bloddy old!!! (but it was built like a tank in the 60s). It would be foolish to pull it down, which is what I told the chap who offered $2.9 million million for the land alone. $1,750,000 for the one up the lane at 5 Sproxtons Lane (another inspection this Saturday) would still leave you with some money in your pocket to upgrade it as it is a very ordinary house and what you are paying for is its location. Thanks again for your interest. P.S. If you are REALLY interested, I could offer vendor's finance of $600,000 on top of your $2.7 million cash."

"So what is the actual figure you are wanting?" $2.7 million cash plus $600,000 vendor's finance is what? Come on, switch on your calculator!

"Will never sell north of $3 million", texted me this expert, and "Happy to sit at $2.9 million if your mind turns but won't move from that. Nice location but lots of money to spend." And then there were a couple of more texted messages, which I replied with, "We could go on and on, but please let's not. Thank you for your interest, and good luck with your househunting", to which he replied with a conciliatory "All good mate thanks for your time if anything changes you have my contact."

He sounded like the chap who, once you'd locked onto his price, would find more and more faults with the property to screw you down more and more, and then drop you altogether. Better I dropped him first.

It's a bit late in life, but I'm slowly learning how to ride a unicycle.

 


Googlemap Riverbend

 

"And you really live by the river?"

 

 

And you really live by the river?" one Bushwalker asked me, pointing to my hat as we hiked down to Chinamans Point. Feeling much like the Rat in "The Wind in the Willows", I happily replied, "By it and with it and on it and in it".

I've been an early riser all my life. Bed to me has never been something to 'get into' but rather to 'get out of', and I've never been late, or - God forbid! - called in sick, but this morning I did feel a little off and almost cancelled my appointment with the Batemans Bay Bushwalkers who were going to hike down to Chinaman's Point. But here I was, enjoying the early morning sunshine and the company of my fellow-walkers.

This was no Kokoda Trail but then neither was I still in my twenties when I had accomplished that particular hike. Instead, this was a leisurely walk from Holmes Lookout just off the Kings Highway down to Chinamans Point (which must've lost its apostrophe at about the same time the last Chinaman left). For the past several decades it had been occupied by an oyster shed which was run by a pool-acquaintance who'd assured me he'd have the kettle boiling by the time we'd get there.

 

For GOOGLE Map, click here

 

Then, some forty-five minutes into the walk, and just as we were scrambling down another very steep hill which ought to have been strictly reserved for mountain goats, I took off the same hat that the other Bushwalker had pointed to, wiped the sweat off my forehead and mumbled in a low whisper to Padma who was beside me, "There's a reason I received that OBE last year. I'm Over Bloody Eighty and I'll never get back up that steep hill again. Let's call it quits before they call the ambulance." And so I excused myself from the group and, exhausted but greatly relieved, we scrambled back up the hill again.

 

 

It's been a long day! I saw some new things, met some new people, but most important of all, I learnt something about the physical limitations imposed by old age. We are home again, and as I sit here on the sunlit verandah, looking at the river and nursing a hot cup of sweat tea, I recall those words from Chapter 5, Dulce Domum, in "The Wind in the Willows": "But it was good to think he had this to come back to, this place which was all his own, these things which were so glad to see him again and could always be counted upon for the same simple welcome".

 


Googlemap Riverbend

 

Howdy neighbour!

 

 

They’re all the same, but each one is different from every other one. You’ve got your bright mornings; your fog mornings; you’ve got your summer light and your autumn light; you’ve got your week days and your weekends; you’ve got your people in overcoats and galoshes and you’ve got your people in t-shirts and shorts. Sometimes same people, sometimes different ones. Sometimes different ones become the same, and the same ones disappear. The earth revolves around the sun and every day the light from the sun hits the earth from a different angle."

More than thirty years ago Paul Auster adapted his short story "Auggie Wren’s Christmas Story" to form the screenplay for Wayne Wang’s film "Smoke". Both versions feature a key sub-plot which reveals one man’s beguiling obsession with the city in which he lives. Auster’s protagonist Auggie Wren, played by Harvey Keitel in the film, lives in Brooklyn and runs a tobacconist shop on the corner of Third Street and Seventh Avenue. Every day he takes his camera out into the street at 8.00 am and takes a picture of the same street corner, his corner, day after day.

 

"That’s right. More than four thousand pictures of the corner of Third Street and Seventh Avenue at eight o’clock in the morning, four thousand straight days in all kinds of weather. That’s why I can never take a vacation. I got to be in my spot every morning at the same time … every morning in the same spot at the same time."

 

Life has this veneer of permanence with each day, each year, coming and going with tedious repetition, and yet look a little closer and there's a constant change and we are all part of it. We are all in the process of dying, with each of us marching towards our inevitable demise.

I am grateful for those constant changes, so when I see another boat moored across the river, I "do an Auggie Wren", rush inside to get my camera, and take a photo. I feel grateful that, of all the bends in the river, they have chosen my bend in the river to spend a whole day, sometimes a whole night, and sometimes even several days and nights.

I feel so grateful that I want to shout out to them, "Howdy neighbour!"

 


Googlemap Riverbend

 

Tuesday, February 17, 2026

Happy Chinese New Year!

 

 

Friends from the Bay did a lot of horsing around aboard the ESCAPADE, as she came sailing past "Riverbend" while they celebrated the Chinese New Year, the Year of the Horse.

 

Watch out! Any closer and you might hit our jetty!

 

They waved and shouted and Padma waved back, while I continued to watch the evening news which was more of the same, but strangely, for once no mad mutterings from the Mad Donald tonight. What's going on?

 

 

Happy Chinese New Year!

 


Googlemap Riverbend