We were sitting outside at a cafe eating lunch when this Australian Water Dragon came calling
I just realized we haven’t updated the blog for some time. Well, that’s a lie. I’ve been meaning to but just gotten a little lazy as time has flown by. Also, the fact is, we’ve been quite busy. But before I bore you with all the projects we’ve been doing, we have had some fun moments. And yes, I promise to keep the “projects” section mercifully short.
Thank you to some of our subscribers who wrote to us to ensure we are still alive. It’s nice to know people care about our well-being. Sorry to have kept you in the dark. I’ll try to do better.
We’re not dead. We are still alive in a country with more animals capable of killing people than anywhere else on Earth. So far, we’ve managed to avoid sharks, snakes, crocodiles, jellyfish, spiders, and whatever else lurks out there waiting to ruin someone’s afternoon. Although I’m still fairly certain every time Australians say “ah, you’ll be right,” what they really mean is, “there’s a reasonable chance this could end badly.”
I bought the VW tee. Found it at a street market
Before I begin, I need to backtrack a little bit here. When we first arrived at our Australian home base marina in December of 2024, we met a couple of locals and immediately hit it off with them. We later found they are part of a small group who have a regular Friday night gathering called Friday Follies. They invited us to attend one of these events, and I guess we made a good impression because we were subsequently invited back as regulars. Either that, or they felt sorry for us.
Friday Follies rotates hosts. One person hosts the event on their boat, and the group arrives at 4:30 and brings whatever they wish to drink until 6:30. Hosting basically means supplying finger foods. You can’t go wrong with sausage rolls or mini meat pies. Aussies love these. I suspect there is a law somewhere requiring these party staples. There isn’t a fixed rotation; it’s just whoever thinks it might be a good time to host.
It isn’t a firm obligation. If you happen to be about, you show up. On days when we might be away exploring, we don’t need excuses. So, the headcount can vary quite a bit. We’ve had as many as twelve other people aboard and as few as one other person. Both scenarios work, although one is a lot easier on the snack supply.
Discussions involve a lot of teasing about others in the group. Sports and political discussions are usually muted quickly, probably for everyone’s safety. Current events can get rather lively. With us about, people are really curious about what the heck (not my first choice of expression) is wrong with the USA, but they are genuinely nice about asking. More curious than anything.
The people in this group are simply awesome. They are some of the most caring, unselfish people we’ve met in a really long time. They are genuinely interested in what others have to say and will do just about anything to help each other if a situation arises. We fit right into this, even getting up at 4 a.m. to give another couple a ride to the airport some 45 minutes away. That’s when you know you’re in deep.
They have had a lot of fun hearing about our adventures as we discover all things Australian. They also have a good laugh when we use a word that has a meaning in Australia completely different from what we are used to. The word “rooting” caused a lot of dropped jaws when I said it. Also, “prairie dogging” (a person popping their head up the hatch of a boat to see what’s happening up top) has a whole other meaning in Australia. Cindy caused the entire group to go quiet when she said she prairie dogged. So you don’t have to look this up, “rooting for something” means you want to have sex with it, and “prairie dogging” means you must immediately poop. Just some of the phrases we get wrong.
We can tell when we make these faux pas because everyone will go quiet, and then a brave soul, usually Tony, will ask us what exactly we are trying to say. It often reminds me of learning American when I arrived in the USA from the UK. I once made the mistake of asking my friend to pass his rubber. A rubber is an eraser in the UK. In the USA, it’s a condom. That conversation ended quickly.
The friends in this group have been instrumental in helping us find some awesome things to do whilst here. The series of posts regarding the Great Ocean Drive and our entire southern trip was based on recommendations from the group, as were the trips to the outback and a meal in a Sydney restaurant hosted by Australia’s Chef of the Year. The chef is the son of a group member. Boy, can he cook! He has flown all over the globe as a guest chef in some of the swankiest kitchens.
We recently took a trip to Montville. A beautiful little country town perched on the ridge of a mountain, offering fantastic views in all directions
Montville has a very artsy theme and most shops have floral gardens that add to the beauty of the town
Montville’s clock shop
Montville has a ton of sidewalk cafes and eateries
This captures Montville: Cobble sidewalks, flowers, and a fantastic view between the buildings
We recently had to renew our Australian visas for a short extension of our stay, and this prompted a discussion. I made the comment about how I wish we could move here permanently. They all thought this would be wonderful. Here we are, two people who can clearly support ourselves, have international health insurance, and speak English (not Australian, but we’re working on that). We are not looking for handouts or government help. Our group said, we are the type of people that Australia would be lucky to have live here.
To be brutally honest, we both love Australia and share the regret of not knowing many years ago what a fabulous country it is. We both agree that had we known what life in Australia was like when we were younger, we would have emigrated from the USA given the chance. Sadly, the chance to emigrate here full-time has passed. Apparently, being adorable and self-sufficient isn’t enough.
We are retired, and Australia doesn’t offer a single visa that leads to permanent residency for people our age (unless we give them a ridiculous amount of money—there are always different rules for the ultra-wealthy). Even with my British passport, I don’t get any special treatment. Yes, they have King Charles III on the money and coins, but it adds nothing of value for Brits.
There is something called CANZUK in the works, well maybe. This is a proposed arrangement between Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and the UK for much easier movement, and in some versions, free movement, plus closer trade and policy ties. The basic idea is that citizens of those four countries could live, work, study, and travel in each other’s countries with far fewer visa barriers, much like the European Union. This has gained traction since the USA has shunned these former allies. It appears to be popular with the citizens of the countries involved, but I’m not holding my breath since all of these governments move at the speed of molasses in winter.
I joke about asking for asylum. The events in the USA, looking in from the outside, make it hard to fathom that we would ever want to live there again. I recently read that 29 Americans last year asked for political asylum while in Australia. None were granted. However, these people are issued bridging visas that allow them to stay while their case is heard. It can take up to five years, or more. So, there is always that.
We have been talking quite seriously about selling our boat. Don’t be surprised if you see it up for sale in the near future. We still plan to travel, focusing on Asia and Europe. Neither of these places is particularly conducive to traveling by boat. You can, but trains and Airbnb are the way to go. There are very few places in Asia and Europe that a person cannot get to by land. Obviously, this is very different from the Caribbean or South Pacific, where a boat opens options that land travelers don’t have.
Traveling the EU by boat is a pain in the stern. Between Value Added Tax (VAT) and visa limits, the entire duration of a stay there is constantly overshadowed by the fact that something or someone must leave soon. We are getting tired of dealing with the red tape. The EU means a massive amount of regulation, should we decide to sail there. So, that’s not going to happen. Life is too short.
We recently took Cream Puff down the coast to an area called the Gold Coast. This is an area we have already explored by car. You can read about it here. But this time, it was more of a work trip. The Puffster was due for maintenance on the bottom. This involves paint, a touch-up to the boot stripe, servicing the drive and bow thruster,—are you ready for this—and removing both masts. Yes, you read that correctly. We had the masts removed. Because clearly we enjoy making life complicated.
Why do this, you might ask? Well, Cream Puff is now 25 years old. Every 10 years, our insurance company dictates we replace the standing rigging. This involves the replacement of all the metal wires and fittings used to keep the mast upright. As you can imagine, when sailing in heavy winds, the pressure on these wires is tremendous. The last time we replaced the standing rigging was in St. Petersburg, USA.
On Amel boats, there is some common knowledge that on vessels the age of the Puffster, some bolts that hold a particular fitting in place have been found either cracked or broken. A failure of one of these bolts could prove catastrophic. The best and safest way to replace these bolts is to take the mast off. Another reason we wanted to remove the masts. Nothing like a little preventative maintenance to keep things unexciting.
A sample of one of the streets inside GCCM – rows of shops that sell anything nautical
On of the many huge work sheds – yes there is a car parked in there too. The sheds allow work in all weather
Scaffold is onhand if a vessel requires a platform to work from
I thougt our bill might be expensive. Then, I saw this. Two new massive engines and a new generator for this sports fishing boat
Lots of “owies” and “oopsy daisies” on the yard
Another ouch
Some undercover ops going on
As you can imagine, we were a little bit fussy about who we would hire to do this for us. This is not a job for an amateur rigger. This is where Cindy’s diligence comes into play. She spent the better part of a year talking to riggers.
Eventually, we reached out to Jasen Cowly. From the get-go, it became very clear to us that this man knows his stuff. We visited his shop. He had a customer in our area and looked over Cream Puff. We all agreed to work out a time slot for the job.
Getting a time slot is a big deal. I can’t begin to explain how hard it is in Australia to get in with a good contractor. This is where your average cruising sailor falls short. The good ones are booked solid, and now we know why.
The Gold Coast City Marine boatyard is massive. I chatted with a boat captain about it, and he said they are perhaps the best yard in the entire country. I can understand why. The work was completed quickly and at a fair price. Very professional. The communication between the yard and us was first-rate. When we needed to buy something, there were always more than one choice within the facility. In addition, some major marine manufacturers have satellite offices in the area.
An example of this was when Jasen showed us our chainplate for the forestay. It showed a little bit of wear, and he thought it should be replaced. This is one of those “better safe than sorry” things. He is the expert, so I agreed. By the next day, he had already managed to have a new plate fabricated at the metal shop adjacent to his own shop and had it installed on the boat. The cost was about a third of what I expected. A rare event for a boat owner—to pay less. I almost questioned it.
During our time with Jasen, he expressed his desire to go sailing full-time. He had just returned from a four-week trip on his boat over the Christmas holidays. Most trade businesses here in Australia close down for at least three to four weeks over Christmas (summer). We had deep conversations about the cruising lifestyle and why it is so important to do it while healthy and young enough.
The main mast being lifted into place
The mizzen mast being lowered – the guy in orange is controlling the crane remotely
It’s splash day (re-launch). The massive lift comes to pick us up
Straps are placed under Cream Puff (lined with paper to protect our new pain)
The boat is lifted and the jackstands are removed
One last look underneath by the lift operator
And, away we go to the water
By the time the job was finished, Jasen told us he had reached a decision and that we were one of his last customers. After 20-plus years of running his business, he decided he wanted to go sailing. I was so happy to hear him say this. We could both tell he had the bug.
When we did our sea trial with Jasen aboard, he told us he wanted to keep in touch. We felt the same way. He even invited us to stay at his home should we find ourselves in the area. Damn it, leaving Australia is going to be hard. Leaving friends behind is the hardest part of being ocean hobos.
Going down to the Gold Coast area, we set sail southward and went out to the open ocean. This was an overnight trip to ensure we arrived at the inlet during dawn hours. Coming back, we decided to take the inland route. This means motoring along a winding, narrow, and sometimes very shallow channel with just about every navigational hazard imaginable. In other words, a perfect test of patience.
We asked Jasen about the route. He told us to time the tides and to be careful at one particular area, ironically called Jason’s Pass. It is a notoriously shallow area that can go to 1.3 meters at low tide. We need 2.2 meters to float. The high tide that day added one meter, giving us 1.3. This mean we have about 10cm (4 inches) between the bottom of our keel and the mud.
We arrived at Jason’s Pass a bit earlier than high tide. I have always had the mindset that it is better to run aground on a rising tide than one going out. Wondering if we could make it 2 hours before the maximum depth, we decided to give it a go. Slowly.
We bumped the bottom. The momentum of the boat pushed through the mud. We bumped again, and once again quickly came unstuck. Then we bumped a third time. Because why not make it a trilogy?
Another obstacle: overhead power lines. The chart showed the lines to be just a tad higher than our mast. I must admit, this is a little too close for comfort. I researched the area using an app another of our Follies friends had shown me. The height of the lines above the water is measured at the center where the sag is greatest. The app showed a picture of a multihull boat with a much taller mast than ours directly under the lines but close to the pylon where the line are highest. We decided to do the same. I can happily report we made it. Going under bridges and power lines is always unnerving. Probably always will be.
So, that pretty much catches everyone up on where life has taken us over the past months. Cream Puff drained our bank account, masts came off and somehow went back on again, we survived grounding the boat multiple times without requiring therapy, and we continue our slow transformation into being honorary Australians. Although apparently, we still have a lot to learn about the language. Probably best for everyone that our visas are set to expire soon.
Between boatwork, we’ve traveled to some fun small towns as we’ve continued to travel in Australia. One small town, we discovered completely by accident. We were going to get Fish and Chips at a pub. When we arrived, neither of us was hungry yet so we just kept driving down the road. We discovered the picturesque town of Tamborine Mountain. Like Montville, pictured earlier in the post, this town is also situated on a hilltop ridge. The higher altitude gives a nice break from the summer heat.
Walking the main street of Tamborine Mountain
Some of the shops have incredible gardens
Some of the garden decorations are a little bit out there
Lots ot trinkits to buy
The fudge shop has a flavor for any palate
Massive trees shade this cafe
This vacant restaurant that is for lease looks like it might be haunted
And, yes. We did remember to get our fish ‘n chips at the Fox and Hounds pub
One thing that has really struck us during our time here is how easy Australians are to be around. There is very little pretending. People say what they think, laugh at themselves, help each other out, and generally don’t seem interested in making life more complicated than it already is. Maybe that’s part of why we’ve grown so attached to this place.
As for Cream Puff, she is now back together, floating properly again, and looking rather pleased with herself. The rigging is done, the maintenance list is shorter for the first time in ages, and for the moment at least, nothing appears to be actively leaking, breaking, or trying to bankrupt us. Experienced boat owners will understand just how suspicious that feels.
But the biggest question still hangs over our heads: what comes next?
Do we keep the boat and continue wandering? Do we finally swallow the anchor and put Cream Puff up for sale? Do we spend more time in Australia somehow? Or do we head off toward Asia and Europe with backpacks instead of anchors?
Truthfully, we still don’t know.
What we do know is that the travel bug hasn’t gone away. If anything, it’s gotten worse. The problem is, we are now finding ourselves pulled in two completely different directions. Part of us still loves the freedom of life aboard. The sunsets at anchor. The passages. Dolphins at the bow. The ability to change the view simply by raising an anchor.
The other part of us looks at high-speed rail, cheap flights, little apartments in foreign cities, lunch at the cafe, and the idea of carrying luggage and shedding anything requiring a winch.
One thing we are certain of, whatever we do next isn’t going to involve sharks, jellyfish, deadly snakes, killer spiders, or crocodiles. We are going to stay away from these things while we are still ahead of the game.
At some point, we need to find a place to live.
Aww! We’re adorable.
