Dragon flower

When we bought the house in Noonmuckle Street, I thought it was some kind of cacti growing up the tree in the back garden, mixed with a bougainvillea.

But later somebody told me it was a dragonfruit plant. Badly situated, I thought, for dragonfruit are supposed to grow over a log and fruit when they reach the highest point. If our dragonfruit waited till it reached the top of the tree, we would have a long wait and an even longer climb!

But last week it flowered. Three beautiful yellow flowers. They only last a day or two but were a delightful surprise. I don't know if they were pollinated or not so I'm unsure whether we will have dragonfruit.

Halfwit Wedding

I can't believe almost a month has passed and I haven't posted the fact that I got married.
Guy and I finally made it to the altar (well, the garden and the celebrant) on 6th February, after over 14 years of unmarried bliss.








When Guy proposed (see previous post in June 2009) we then set out on the difficult task of setting a date. With five children and partners scattered worldwide, this wasn't easy. The girls were fine - they both live in Brisbane and even the two nurses could organise shifts that far in advance. But the three men .... another story.

Dan said it had to be before March when he was going to Canada from the UK. Adam said it shouldn't be at Christmas time because fares from the UK were extortionate until February. That left February ............





Doug said it couldn't be 20th February because the biggest Adventure Race of the year was on then and he had already entered. 14th February is my birthday but, being Valentine's Day also, we thought a great many couples would be planning their own romantic weekend.




So we set the date for the 6th February. People came from all over. From the West in a posse of family and friends and hockey team-mates, from Darwin as a freewheeling gypsy sister-in-law, from London via Singapore, from London via Uzbekistan (don't ask), from Melbourne, from Sydney, from Caboolture, from Brisbane and from all over the island. 130+ in all.
We set up a marquee in the neighbouring empty block and tarted up the garden. 8 cases of wine, 2 cases of bubbly and 10 slabs of beer sorted out the drinks. Surprisingly, all we have left is a lot of soft drinks. (I knew we had over-catered in that department!)



Instead of gifts, we asked islanders to bring a plate of fingerfood each. And did they ever! Inga next door made four tortes, best friend Judy made six pavlovas, sausage rolls and goodness knows what else. What a treasure! She also ran the kitchen for the day, ably assisted by cousin Cath and other friends.



Friends all over the island put themselves out to accommodate our immediate family and various friends. How truly fortunate we are to live in such a loving place!

Of course, the wedding went off brilliantly. The rain held off for the ceremony, everyone looked lovely and we partied on until 3am.
The less said about the next couple of days (cleaning up the disaster zone) the better. Now I know why people go on honeymoon! Wish we had!


But we stayed because Dan (youngest son) and Sarah, his girl, stayed over for a week after the rest had gone home. My best friend Jane from Darwin stayed for a week also. We sailed, we ate, we drank, we laughed .... great memories before Jane headed for Tweed Heads and Dan and Sarah for Byron Bay, Melbourne and the UK to go on to Canada.

A great day! Here's to married life!

Australia Day in Paradise

Happy Australia Day to everyone out there!

What perfect weather to celebrate our National Day. We started off with brekky on the back deck, shared by a baby kookaburra.

He's very sweet and gentle, despite that sharp beak. Still has all his fluffy baby feathers.

I save leftover bbq sausages as a treat for him but he has to fight for his meat, as the baby magpies also enjoy them.

Our first pineapple was also a treat for the day. Tiny but delicious, this golden gem came from our vegie garden, the first of many, we hope.

Unfortunately, our Tamarillo tree is no more. We had a week of very heavy rain and came out one morning to find it had fallen over. The root ball seemed to have rotted. I don't know much about fruit trees - this was in the garden when we came to the island - but I can only assume it wasn't planted correctly and the roots were not teased out properly when it was planted. What a shame!

Before the rain, we had a long dry spell and our mango tree seems to have died. Either that or it was poisoned. The big mango tree in the next block is also dead. Our new neighbour on the other side of that block, Warwick, had to have his septic cleaned out because the roots of that tree had invaded the system. We suspect he might have poisoned the tree in order that it didn't happen again. And the poison probably spread to our tree. A great pity. We shall cut it back and see if it recovers.

But back to Australia Day!! With five other members of the Boat Club on board, we boarded "Bonnington" and sailed to Blakesleys Beach on North Stradbroke. It was a perfect day for sailing, just enough wind to fill the sails but not too choppy for the people on board who were not used to the heeling of a yacht (power boaties).

Blakesleys was almost deserted. On the horizon we could see wall to wall sails at Horseshoe Bay so obviously the nor'easter had discouraged the mainlanders from trying for Straddie. Yay! We had the place to ourselves.

We soon set up a bbq and enjoyed a glass of sav blanc or a XXXX whilst the snaggers sizzled.

(Why does Queensland beer have four Xs and Mexican Beer only have 2?)

A fantastic day and a great trip home with no problems. A bit of lubrication on our furler seems to have almost solved the problem with the jib. We just need an extra pulley to alter the angle that the sheet comes out of the furler. I think that will solve the problem.

Happy Australia Day everyone!!

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Christmas in the Halfwit Sundays

Peter and Kerri had a Waifs and Orphans brunch, held for those of us with no family on Christmas Day.

Guy and I were a little late, having driven from New Farm where we spent Christmas Eve at Karla and Bec's. We caught the 9.30am barge to the island and rushed home to change before hitting President Terrace, armed with croissants and champers, as our normal Christmas feast.

Peter and Kerri had served up a feast, ably assisted by guests. There was scrambled eggs, salmon spnach quiche, fruit and yoghourt and, of course, croissants, just to mention a few of the yummy foods supplied.

Plenty of nibblies and plenty of vino led to a delightful afternoon on their new deck.

The usual stalwarts were joined by Peter and Kerri's new neighbour Tatiana and her baby Senya.

The usual stalwarts? See below for pics of Mal and Rosie, Ron and Val, Barbara and Norm,

Colin and Janette, Phil and Ruth, Chas and Marg, Peter and Kerri (oops! Where is Kerri? Evil girl avoided the camera lens!!!) and Guy and myself.

Tinkerbelle goes to Town

Just as I thought the Halfwits were becoming mundane and boring, something happened to restore my faith in my fellow halfwits.

Walking towards the entrance of our Spar supermarket, I heard a bleat. A bleat? Yes, definitely a bleat. Looking around, I espied a large white goat looking out of the window of a car in the parking lot.

"Baaaaaaaaaaa!" she cried. "Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."

Entering the supermarket, I mentioned this fact to the cashier. The lady before me in the queue said "Oh yes, that's Tinkerbell. We're going to pre-school."

Of course! Why else would you have a goat in your car? She was a big goat too!

Good morning

It's a wonderful morning in the Halfwit Sundays.

I've been up since 4.30 sitting on the top deck with a cup of coffee, watching the early morning light gild the gum trees and the sky fill with rosy pink clouds scudding in from the east, pulling the sun behind them.

The magpie dawn chorus is in full swing, interspersed by the plovers piping their shrill defence of their sole remaining chick, still at the mercy of the sharp-beaked kookaburras.

In turn, the kookaburras, up since first light at 3.45, are sitting in groups in the scribbly gums by the side of the house. I'm not sure if they are laughing at me or the plovers, but something is hilarious, that's for sure.

At the bottom of the road I can see the calm water of the bay and across to Garden Island. The nor'wester is no longer in evidence and the water is flt calm and blue.

It's a good morning in the Halfwits.

Three things not to do on a boat

The weather here has not been conducive to sailing lately. Strong north-easterlies plus the Christmas king tides make for choppy conditions in the bay.

But last Thursday we had promised to take Phil and Ruth out in Bonnington. We met down at the jetty and, on the face of it, it seemed to be a good day. True, the wind was still NE but about 10-15 knots and a cloudless sky.

We ferried them across the channel in our rubber ducky and piled aboard. After stowing our gear (picnic lunch, etc) I busied myself unzipping the sails and centering the boom whilst Guy started the motor.

Woops! For the first time, black diesel smoke came pouring out of the motor. It's always been a great little motor, a Danish Bukh 12.8hp marine diesel. Guy thought it might be simply lack of use ... we hadn't used it for a while ... so we cast off and headed up the channel.

1st Mistake! We discovered we had little steering ability - obviously the prop was fouled (barnacles, seaweed, etc.) and without the sails, we were going nowhere and the engine was straining big time. This was when we should have returned to our mooring and called it a day.

But, unwilling to disappoint Phil and Ruth, and being a beautiful day, we simply hoisted the sails and cut the motor and sailed down the Canaipa Channel.

It was lovely sailing between North Stradbroke and Russell Island, admiring the scenery on Stradbroke and the houses on the foreshore on Russell. Turtles basked on the surface and slowly sank beneath the warm water as we approached. The occasional mullet leapt out of the water, being chased by a larger fish. There was just enough sailing to keep us occupied, as the channel is quite narrow when the tide is low.

We threaded our way down the side of Russell past Tulleenderley and turned round a small mangrove island to anchor for lunch. Cold chicken and ham, salad and a bottle of Sav Blanc. Wonderful!!! Guy took the opportunity to try to dive under the boat to check the prop but the tide was running strongly and he was pulled out every time before he could get to the prop.

After the picnic, it was time to go home. We had already discussed our options and thought it would be best to continue around Russell Island and head up the main channel from the south. The wind had picked up to 20 knots and the Canaipa Passage was looking a little unpleasant.

We set off around Russell Island and our problems commenced. At the bottom of Russell, around Rocky Point, there is a marine crossroads. One side comes from the south ... Cabbage Tree Point and beyond; to the West lies the mouth of the Logan River; north is the main passage to Macleay and Brisbane and east (where we were) is the entrance to the Canaipa Passage and the open sea. Complications arise from the presence of electric power lines connecting Russell to the mainland. And the channel is extremely narrow at this point.

Turning into the main channel, it became obvious that our motor was not going to help us. The wind had picked up to 25 knots and the tide was pushing us back towards the south. Beating is never a pleasant prospect and in a narrow channel, even less so. We double reefed the main and hauled in the jib a little and basically started tacking every four minutes or so across the channel. We would just start to gain a little speed when the depth gauge would show 7 feet and we had to tack again.

Luckily, we have a retractable keel. Otherwise we could not have progressed at all. But the more the keel is retracted, the less steering is available. And, of course, the prop was fouled.

After about an hour, we were no further north. After another hour, we had progressed about 100 metres. We were looking for options. Of course, we could try to turn around and head south to a marina for the night (wish we had!!!) or keep trying. There were no safe anchorages on the way home. (For those not in the know, this part of the trip would normally take half an hour, so we were not that far from home.)

2nd mistake!! We should have gone south and had a pleasant night at the marina. A few drinks and hope that the wind changed in the morning. (Of course, the fact that the wind had been NE for the past week was a factor in our decision. We might have had the same situation in the morning.)

We were hoping that dusk would bring a drop in the wind, which normally happens. Of course, it didn't ... the wind picked up even more. Guy, seeing that we would probably not get home till midnight, decided to ring our mate Brian and ask him to come down in his power boat and give us a tow.

I rang Brian on my mobile and he said he would pick up a mate and head down the channel.

In the meantime, we continued to tack, tack, tack. The wind was even stronger, gusting to 30 knots and the shallow water meant it was very choppy. Poor little Bonnington, only 2400 kg, was heeling desperately on each tack. Phil and I slaved over the jib sheets whilst Guy grimly held onto the tiller. Ruth fed us chocolates.

We saw Brian heading down the channel towards us just as disaster struck. We had decided to furl the jib and stand to until Brian reached us, rather than confuse him by tacking across him. The jib sheet stuck and Phil, not knowing the idiosyncrasies of our boat, grabbed a winch handle. Before Guy could yell "NO! It's just a kink in the jib sheet." Phil had started tightening. BANG!!!! The jib sheet broke from the furler and the jib was flying wildly in the wind.

Lots of trouble now. Phil raced up the front to try to pull down the jib and Ruth helped him hold it down whilst I released it. By the time we had it stowed away, we had drifted into 5 feet of water. Now we were seriously worried about going aground on the sandbank.

Brian had a rope ready to throw to us but he too was having problems with the choppy conditions. He tried to come alongside but came too close and the waves flung him against our side, scoring our fibreglass. He tried again from the front but yet again, the waves flung him onto us and our bow roller rammed through his side curtain and bent his aerial before he could pull away.

3rd mistake!! Don't come too close to a dangerously rolling yacht.

His third attempt was more cautious. He stayed well away and threw the rope several times before we finally caught it and tied it off.

Our end secure, Brian moved off. We were curious to see that his friend Jeff had disappeared into the cabin. We wondered why ... but it was not till the end of the trip that we found out. There was nothing on board to anchor the tow rope so Jeff, a considerable size of a man, simply wrapped it around him and sat in the cabin.

And pulled us home!!

Phil and I sat on the deck and admired the sunset as we were towed up channel and to our mooring in between Karragarra and Macleay. Once we turned the corner into the channel between the islands, the wind abated and Brian and Jeff were able to drop us onto our mooring without a problem. We tied off and headed ashore, ready for a few drinks and then bed.

Next time, we won't go!!!