Rocking the Boat

 

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An old friend of mine used to tell me, "Peter, you've done enough for three lifetimes!", whenever I voiced my regret about having missed out on something. He had gone down the well-trodden 9-to-5 path, and didn't seem to mind.

 

Read the book online under its American title "The Sun Never Sets"

 

I do mind not having done more when there was still time, and so today I lost myself in another travel book which I had read before but in too much of a hurry to do it full justice. Simon Winchester's "Outposts - Journeys to the surviving relics of the British Empire" makes you want to pack a bag and follow his footsteps. I chewed on every word on every page, stopping just long enough to write down the titles of two books, "Shelter from the Spray" and "Rocking the Boat", for further reading.

 

 

I had never heard of "Shelter from the Spray", the story of two German brothers, Frederick and Gustav Stoltenhoff, who had fantastical Robinson Crusoe ideas (or delusions) to settle on the aptly-named Inaccessible Island, which lies 40 km southwest of Tristan da Cunha in the South Atlantic, in 1871. It's a rare book and I hope I can find a copy.

The other one, "Rocking the Boat", is by Ruth Boydell, with whom Simon Winchester sailed to Diego Garcia in the Indian Ocean. While googling for it, I found the above announcement by the Queanbeyan Library, just "up the road" from here, of her book talk this coming Tuesday, 22nd September. It's too short a notice and too far away for me to attend.

 

Simon Winchester talks about sailing to forbidden Diego Garcia with Ruth Boydell

 

Having at one time moved from end of the world to the other at the drop of a hat - or at the end of a very short telephonic job offer - and now being unprepared to attend a book talk which is only a one-and-a-half-hour drive and still two days away tells you all you need to know of how much my life has changed. No more "Rocking the Boat" for me!

 

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P.S. Not being able to attend the book talk, I consoled myself with this ABC broadcast "Ruth Boydell reflects on the beauty of travelling solo".

 

The Language Instinct

 

 

Language, they say, is an instinct instead of a learned skill. And there’s a whole book on it if you’re interested: "The Language Instinct" by Stephen Pinker. I listened to its audiobook last night and it kept me awake for several hours.

"As you are reading these words, you are taking part in one of the wonders of the natural world. For you and I belong to a species with a remarkable ability: we can shape events in each other's brains with exquisite precision. I am not referring to telepathy or mind control or the other obsessions of fringe science; even in the depictions of believers these are blunt instruments compared to an ability that is uncontroversially present in every one of us. That ability is language. Simply by making noises with our mouths, we can reliably cause precise new combinations of ideas to arise in each other’s minds. The ability comes so naturally that we are apt to forget what a miracle it is."

 

Read part of the book online at www.archive.org

 

I replayed it again and again. Insomnia well spent! This morning I shall continue reading the book on the sunny verandah. Unfortunately, the book is not available online except for the above 95 pages, so you may have to get your own copy on ebay. Or listen to the man himself here:

 

 

What a great way to spend a Sunday!

 

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Another Moruya morning

 

 

I had done most of the burning-off before my fire permit was suspended because of high tenperatures and extreme fire anger, so we went for a drive to Moruya instead to visit the local market.

By the time we got there, the day had already turned into something of a scorcher, and yet the market was full with hundreds of people and scores of dogs on the lead and in the lead. With already much of the formerly grassed market covered in hot concrete and bitumen, some dog owner had fitted out their canine companions with 'shoes' of the kind that when you ask for a 'pair', they sell you four. Unfortunately, I forgot to take a photo of some of their more fashionable paw-wear.

 

 

One stall sold old cameras and I could relate to all of them, as I too had owned a Kodak Brownie that took 2+1⁄4-inch square pictures, and later also a folding bellows camera together with handheld lightmeter. And what about those vintage flashbulbs? I must've used hundreds of them.

 

 

Taking a joy flight with South Coast Seaplanes seemed tempting, too. I had done some pretty hairy flying in New Guinea and being cooped up in a tiny plane didn't worry me until I saw the very young pilot and the very high price. Anyway, it was already close to lunchtime and, since they didn't serve food on board, we drove to the Moruya Bowling Club.

 

 

I remember having heard about Sam McLennan who had built a raft entirely of marine rubbish which he hoped to sail from Tasmania to Sydney to raise awareness of ocean pollution. And here it was, tied up beside the market on the Moruya River. It takes all sorts, doesn't it?

 

 

I leave you with a YouTube recording of a DVD I picked up at the local op-shop, "Ten Pound Poms - The Story of Invisible British Migration to Australia ...", which reminds me of my own adventure more than sixty years ago, except that I paid fifty pounds because I wasn't British. And I never whinged because I never regretted having come to this wonderful country. I mean, where else could I have had such a beautiful weekend?

 

 

Avagoodweegend -and don't forget the Aeroguard!

 

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45 Hale Street, Townsville

 

The new owners did not change much of its outside appearance apart from giving it a 'cool' blue-and-white paint job.

 

The year was 1985. I had come back from my last posting in Greece. My Saudi boss, who was reluctant to see me go, had promised to let me continue my audit work from Australia, and so I bought this property on the edge of Townsville's CBD to be both office and home to me.

 

The inside has been quite stunningly renovated. The humble verandah has become an extension of the living-space.

 

I bought the place for something like $50,000-plus but the promised work never materialised and so I left, first for Sydney and sometime later back to Canberra from where I had started out twenty years ago.

I hung onto the place for some years as a rental property but the trouble with maintenance and defaulting tenants was just too much bother and so I sold it again in April 1998 for a mere $87,000 - hardly the sort of rags-to-riches story so often touted by real estate agents.

 

The front room, once meant to have been my office, is now a beautifully appointed lounge.

Behind the lounge is another sitting-room. Its feature is the silky-oak room divider, repainted a gleaming white.

The garden has the city skyline as its backdrop, illustrating how close this ideal 'city pad' is to Townsville's mall and CBD.

 

The property resold four more times since I sold it in 1998, the last time in 2021 for $495,000. It's listed as a $500-a-week rental in January 2024.

 

 

The improvements continued. For all the latest photos, click here.

 

Townsville's Castle Hill in the background

 

Another example of my mad life and the equally mad property market!

 

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Youth, you son of a bitch, where did you go?

 

 

I didn't write this but WOW does it speak to me!!!

 

Barely the day started and it's already six in the evening. Barely Monday has arrived and it's already Friday again ... and the month is almost over ... and the year is almost over. ... and already 40, 50, 60, 70, or indeed 80 years of our lives have passed .. .and we realise that we lost our parents, our friends ... and we realise it's too late to go back.

So, let's try, despite everything, to enjoy the remaining time. Let's keep looking for activities that we like. Let's put some colour into our grey. Let's smile at the little things in life that put balm in our hearts. And despite everything, we must continue to enjoy with serenity this time we have left.

Let's try to eliminate the 'afters': I'll do it after; I'll say it after; I'll think about it after. Don't leave everything until 'after'.

Because what we don't understand is that:

Afterwards, the coffee gets cold.

Afterwards, priorities change.

Afterwards, the charm is broken.

Afterwards, health passes.

Afterwards, the kids grow up.

Afterwards, parents get old.

Afterwards, promises are forgotten.

Afterwards, the day becomes the night.

Afterwards, life ends.

And then it's too late.

So, let's leave nothing until 'after'. Because if we wait until 'after', we might lose the best moments, the best experiences, the best friends, the best family. The day is today. The moment is now. We are no longer at the age where we can afford to postpone what needs to be done right away.

 

It looks like an eternity, but it's a short trip. Enjoy life and always be kind.

 

 

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