Come here, come here, go away.

Go away now. Come here!

To say I am confused is an understatement but then again when have we ever really understood this shit?

The plan was simple, head north for some sun, water, kite boarding and fun.


There were no ulterior motives, no need for romps of a sexual nature. Indeed no desire other than the desire to nail new moves on the board, spare my liver a total trauma and avoid complications and entanglements amongst friends, both new and old.

Well the wind failed us and I was left with no other choice than to dance and drink then dance some more. As the hours melted away the discussion of sleeping arrangements heated up.

For me this was simple. I had a nice thick self inflating mattress and a coffin shaped sleeping bag for one. It was my cocoon and haven. It could go anywhere and everywhere and shuttle me safely through to the dawn as it had done so often before.

For others it was not so clear cut.

There were beds and girls in them. The couples were coupled and had their rooms which just left me and three girls to sort out the rest.

The discussion went like this;

"So you two have that room and he and I will share the double bed in the loft." said girl 1

"Its all cool, I will just sleep here on my camp bed" I said.

"No, you cant do that" said girl 2 "I don't think girl 1 is comfortable with sharing a bed with you but I will if you like?"

"Um, I am really happy with my camp bed out here. She can have the double bed to herself." I said

"I tell you what, how about if Girl 2 and him share the double and Girl 1 has the single bed in my room" interjected girl 3

"I am not sleeping in a single bed" said Girl 1 "He will sleep in the double with me - it is settled"

"I am happy with..."

"Shut up, it is settled, you are in with me" said girl 1. "No one is sleeping on the floor!"

Girl 2 scowled at Girl 1. Girl 3 changed tracks on the Ipod while I drank my rum and giggled a little.

Then I too scowled because I realised there would be no wind in the morning. That was more vexing than where I slept.

The hours went by and the fridge got emptied. The music was good but the numbers thinned as a thunderstorm rolled and rumbled out to sea.

Girl 3 retired to her room with the two single beds and then there were five.

The conversation came back to where we were sleeping. I wanted to roll out my camp bed right there on the balcony and watch the stars and listen to the surf - it was magic.

I was not allowed to.

Girl 1 grabbed my elbow requesting assistance with her bag to the loft and boudoir with the double bed. Girl 2 scowled and announced she was off to bed in the room with two single beds.

There was much huffing and a goodnight hug that was too long for even alcohol to explain away.

We bade her goodnight and resumed last drinks on the balcony. Then there were four and it was at 4am. The symmetry was fitting of the beauty of the moon lit night.

There was a commotion from inside and the serenity was broken.

Girl 2 appeared from behind a mountain of bedding and pillows. Poked her head through the door to the balcony and declared that it was all sorted. She would sleep with Girl 1 and I could have the single bed.

"I am happy with my camp...."

"Shut the fuck up. I will be so pissed off if you sleep on that thing while I am up here in the bed with her. You have the single bed. End of conversation ok?"

"ok..."

Girl 1 looked at me with puppy dog eyes and pouted.

I giggled into my rum. I never wanted to share a bed with Girl 1. I never wanted to share the bed with Girl 2.

As I descended the stairs I could hear heated words from above.

"I thought we agreed..." "But you know I wanted...." "Well I am not going to just sit back..."

I shook my head and smiled the crooked smile of a drunk while negotiating stairs that were determined to kill me.

Girl 3 was in the room at the other end of the house. A room with an en suite bathroom and two concrete floors separating it from Girls 1 and 2. As I crept around in the dark and unrolled my sleeping bag a voice slid out of the darkness behind me.

"hello you....."

The fog lifted in my head a little. Ah, girl 3. The really cute one.

Woops I did it again!

No, I have not flashed my bits to paparazzi, no I am not cruising around town with an unsecured toddler.

I have been attempting to break bits of my body in the pursuit of happiness.

Well that is a bit melodramatic but I am a boy and by all accounts we don't do pain and suffering very well.

With summer technically drawing to a close it was with a rush of blood to the head that I hit the water yesterday afternoon for a bit of kite boarding. It was an average afternoon with just enough wind to get going but the sun was out and the water was warm.

My circle of kite buddies is rapidly growing and no less than a dozen text messages bounced around between us all to confirm where we were going and what the wind was doing.

It was like a demo day with people swapping kites and boards and generally showing off.

The biggest kites amongst us were a couple of 16m beasts. These things are like tractors and in 10knots will blast you along very nicely indeed. In 15 knots anyone under about 95kg will start to get nervous. Above that screaming and large amounts of air time starts to be compulsory.

At this point I have to admit that technically I am a n00b in this sport. Sure I can get up and going and have even started doing small jumps and turns but at that point where ego exceeds skill level I end up with a salt water flush of my sinuses and generally entertain those sitting on the beach or sailing next to me.

Yesterday was no different.

On a 16 and heading towards the beach, I found myself on a little gust and the beach was coming up fast. Much faster than expected.

At this point there are two little physics lessons you should know about kite surfing.

1) The faster you steer the kite, the more power it generates - fast movements of the kite over your head will result in huge airtime. This is how you jump!

2) The more people watching, the bigger the crash.

I started to turn the kite back to other tack while trying to ease the power off and initiate the turn but a 16 is a big kite and it moves slowly. I was running out of water.

I turned the kite a bit faster and knew I was peering over that bleeding edge.

Silence. I am flying! Cool...

oops...not cool!

Eject, Eject, Eject!

I kick the board from my feet as the sand appears under me, I keep the kite over my head and power it up again to control the landing. At this point I am well outside my skill set and know it.

The landing is awkward and I roll my right ankle and go down like the proverbial sack of potatoes. Rolling forward and straight back to my feet looking cool - all be it covered from head to toe in sand.

My ears are ringing with the laughter from the peanut gallery.

I do what all self respecting blokes do. I ignore the pain in the ankle, I grab the board and return to the water in a defiant cloud of spray and a wave to the crowd. For about another 30 minutes.

What
A
TOOL!

Today I can hardly walk. The peanut gallery were not fooled either. They got to watch me limp around the beach packing up and again later as we left the Thai restaurant. Even a great feed and a few Bundy and cokes could not fix it.

I hope I can get it sorted before tomorrow - there is more boarding to be done and dancing during the week. I have watched a movie already with the ankle bound and elevated and I am over it!

Less limping and more action please.

Absence makes the hits go yonder..

Sorry folks, I am officially a slack bastard. While visiting you all and even slipping in the odd comment here and there, I have sadly forgotten to update my own blog with the promised sequel to the last adventure.

I have however finally replied to the comments on the last post so apologies for ignoring you all.

It is on it's way but I just have not had time to give it the attention it deserves.

Part of the problem is that summer is here in full swing in good old Sydney town. Summer never arrives until just before school goes back and generally right when work is getting that whole frantic, start of the year atmosphere.

Summer also means more Kite surfing and yacht racing (Yipee!!!) and less time in the glow of this here monitor. That is just the way it is ok.

As I type I have just come home from a great little twilight race. The day was a stinker at over 34 degrees Celsius but with a cool change and thunderstorms forecast to cool it all down about mid race.

We had a bunch of guests (read sponsors) on for the race. As the black clouds rolled over the city and harbour and the fat drops of rain started to hit the deck, they ran for cover to the comfy confines of the cabin.

Except one.

She got it. She was not there just to swig the champagne and be taken on a joy ride. She was interested in the race, her face was lit by the moment and the action as the rest of us race crew kept pushing the yacht to the finish line.

I don't know her name, I hardly had a chance to say two words to her but she obviously enjoying being out there in the heart of a storm, wet hair frizzing up and chin set against the pounding rain.

I love it when people get excited. I love enthusiastic people. It was almost as good as the race it's self just knowing how much fun she had on this wild and wet evening.

The other suits missed out. You know they will be telling tales of their big race and the "perfect storm" and just slipping past the bit about sitting it out on the leather seats below deck.

Comment of the afternoon; "Have we won yet?...let me know if it stops raining ok?"

Twat. Even the mystery girl rolled her eyes at that one.

Back in the land of the living (dead)

The past few weeks have provided a fair bit of blog fodder so sit back and enjoy as I try to weave you through the adventures one post at a time.

The race;

Pre-start games in the 2007 Rolex Sydney to Hobart

What can I say. Perfect conditions and a fair sea do not make for an easy race despite what the media will tell you. It is almost the opposite in some ways because you have to push the yachts harder and the tactical decisions are key to success. In heavy weather you hang on hope nothing breaks until you get there. Both situations are about endurance which is why this is such a hard race.

There was still a broken mast, rudder damage, keel damage and sailors deposited in various ports along the way with injuries. Three yachts did not finish from the fleet of 82.

When the weather is nice you are mostly dry and warm but we probably averaged two sail changes for every 3 hour watch and I am pretty sure we only had two or three, 3 hour periods without a sail change in around one hundred hours or so of sailing. For me, working on the foredeck that means a fair amount of work and we had a few all hands moments in very high winds where we could have easily broken the boat or people.

We blew a spinnaker on night one and were lucky not to loose another one soon after. On the second last day, a cold front took the wind through 180 degrees of direction change and to twice the strength at over 35 knots.

The sea turned from mild blue rolling swells to a white mass of boiling water with steep waves and the crests of each wave being thrown at us within moments. Four sail changes in 20 minutes to deal with the conditions had us soaked and exhausted.

We had gone from a spinnaker to the number 1 head sail and then down to the number two and finally the number three as conditions worsened. An hour and a half later it was back to the number two but was a long night with more sail changes, punching into the waves as we worked down the Tasmanian coast.

Tasman Island and only about 43 miles to a cold beer.

In the end it paid off. The last 40 miles of the 628 nautical mile race were very exciting with a procession of yachts streaming up Storm bay and into the Derwent river to Hobart. At the risk of narrowing the field for the stalkers I am not going to confirm where we finished and what division but I can say that I am as happy as I could ever hope to be, and that is pretty darn happy indeed.

Back soon with more from the dock side because that is where the real fun began...

Gone Sailing

Have fun you funky people......I ran out of time for a proper post and now I'm going sailing.

For anyone interested in following the race, go to the Rolex Sydney Hobart website for the live tracker.

Back in a few weeks to take on 2008!

Cya

Wet, Wet, Wet

So this is it kids, last day of work before the real hard yakka starts.

A smart person would have been banking sleep like it was gold but not me, I seem to have been burning both ends of the candle for a few months now and it is only going to get worse for a few weeks yet.

Come December 26th, I will be off on an adventure, sailing in the Sydney Hobart yacht race.

We are just starting to get a picture of what to expect weather wise but as with all weather related shenanigans and this race, you just never know until you are in it.

A good friend and I were laughing that it is one of those races where everyone wants the great downhill run in fine weather but if you finish a heavy weather race then everyone is just as happy to have the story that they got there.

Is it really dangerous? yeah it can be. Is it fun? well it depends on your perspective on life.

It is a challenge, if you like challenges, if you like pushing through, if you like having no other option than to finish the job or just lay down and die then yeah, it is fun.

People often wonder why would you put yourself in that position. I think some do it because they enjoy the competition, others love the open ocean and the isolation from our comfortable and hermetically sealed little lives, some do it because it is a badge of honour or way to get a shirt that buys a little extra cred at the local yacht club.

For me it is the competition and the isolation. Sailing is just great fun and coming on watch to see water and rolling waves in every direction, to know that there is no stop button and to know that the you and the other lumps of meat on this piece of plastic are truly insignificant puts your life in perspective.

It is a frivolous folly that proves nothing and risks everything. An ocean race can be a lifetime of joy, terror, beauty and reward crammed into a few days.

The sea could swallow you and it would not care. It makes up two thirds of our planet and yet it is as foreign as outer space. Anyone silly enough to think it is tamed is only one rogue wave away from being evicted from this life.

I am excited. I am grinning just thinking about it.

Before all that though I have another big dance party to get through then all the family crap over Christmas. I don't know why, and I hope I could change it if I had kids of my own but Christmas just gets on my nerves.

I love my family and am close with the them but the extended family just bore me. I am choosy about who I sit down to break bread with and these are people I would not choose if given the chance. Sure they are nice enough but...I dunno.

All those, "when are you going to find a nice girl", "must be time you produced a grand kid for your parents" comments are likely to result in spontaneous violence.

The consumer driven Christmas thing winds me up too. I like buying special gifts for a special or spontaneous moment but being told it is Christmas and you have to supply gifts NOW just gives me performance anxiety.

The end result is that I choose not to play that game which then results in guilt when sitting around a Christmas tree being given gifts and not having any to give back to people you don't care about. Fuckedy fuck'nfuck.

Every year it seems to be this crazy rush at work just so you can all have a break at the same time. Most of my customers don't have more than a day off at this time of year so seem to resent that we do. Fuckers.

I am trying to respond less to their pressure but it is a battle of epic proportions. A classic example;

Customer: We want product X by Y in colour Z.
Me: Sure thing, you will have to order that yesterday and pay a penalty to jump the que.
Customer: Not a problem, transferring a 5 figure sum now.
Me: Thanks for the order, just confirming in writing that it is model X in colour Z with a shipping date of T.
Customer: Yes that is all correct, thanks so much for pushing this through...

Two weeks into production.....

Customer: Ah, we have a small problem.
Me: haha, no you have a small problem but please tell me about it.
Customer: It seems that between the media buyer and advertising agency there was bit of a mix up with the client. The client does not want colour Z, it has to be a mix of A & B.
Me: That is a bugger, we just finished cutting it out.
Customer: how much is that going to cost them?
Me: At least your five figure deposit...
Customer: I'll call you back.
Me: make it quick, the shipping date of Y was dependent on the job starting two weeks back...
Customer: yeah but you can't let us down ok...

24 hours later and still no call. At 1:30 today I stop answering the phone. Idiots. I know what is waiting for me in January and that rogue wave is looking like a great friend and an elegant escape.

I will squeeze in one more post before I say good bye to 2007 so see you then.