Sydney

I'm bored.  Okay, maybe not "bored" but I am going a bit stir crazy.  I have spent many a day idly watching the sun slowly crawl across the sky, but being trapped on the boat in the middle of Sydney harbor gives me a bit of a frantic feeling.  Maybe it is all the sea planes and jet skis buzzing around, or maybe the it's thought of the potential surf at Manly beach just over the hill, but whatever it is, it gives me ants in my pants.

To be fair, I could get off the boat.  It's just that there is thirty knots of wind which makes for extremely choppy seas and generally nasty conditions for a dinghy ride.  I could go into town via kayak or dinghy but I would arrive as sopping wet as if I had just swam in - another option.  In spite of being antsy I have opted to hang out on the boat and forgo a day exploring Sydney... these are the joys (and obstacles) of living on a boat (again).

I left Mooloolaba Beach Backpackers a bit sad and very excited.  On the one hand Mooloolaba had become my home - I know the waves and have made good friends, on the other hand it is sweltering hot and I don't have work during the holidays, so I hopped on a plane and within three hours was reunited with Mom and Dad on Rutea in Sydney harbor.

For the record, Mooloolaba to Sydney is the only leg of the trip that I flew whereas Mom and Dad sailed.  And whereas I do feel like I cheated a bit and cannot actually say that I sailed into Sydney harbor, it was super easy, comfortable and I would consider doing it again.

The three of us had a very nice Christmas together.  While I might have done a repeat of Thanksgiving and eaten instant noodles for Christmas dinner, Mom and Dad pulled out all the stops.  Roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, bread pudding... oh parents how I missed you so.  Amazing food aside it was very nice to spend Christmas with family.  The weather even resembled a North American Christmas complete with rain and cool weather all day.  I even had to put slippers on!

Yes, both the air and the water are much cooler here in Sydney than they are on the Sunshine coast.  The water is a chilly 70 degrees and the air is a pleasant 75.  You can walk around the city without becoming drenched in sweat.  I am not so crazy about putting on a wetsuit again, but it is worth it to surf the famous Bondi and Manly beaches.

We are now anchored in Manly cove.  I must admit it is pretty flash: we take the dinghy into shore, walk two blocks down streets filled with designer food and clothing shops, and end up at Manly beach.  I couldn't ask for much more, except maybe for this wind to die down so I can get out there and enjoy it.  I am not too worried though, I might be here for a while.  I left my job with Dusty open ended so I might or might not return, which he was cool with.  There are so many people and things to do around here that I might give the city life a go.

However, living on the boat (at anchor) and living in in the city might prove to be a bit difficult.  I mean, you gotta shower every day around here (or at least most), and there are very few dinghy docks so getting to and from the boat is a little tricky, but the rent is free and the food is amazing.  Also, New Year's Eve is coming up and Sydney harbor is the place to be - tickets for a booze cruises the night of are going for $2,000.  I considered charging random backpackers a few hundred for a night on the water, but decided to go with the more elite crowd - Mom and Dad and perhaps a friend or two.  It should be one hell of a party.

Mooloolaba Beach Backpackers

Mooloolaba Beach Packers

I am living on land.  I know, weird, right?  But it's cool.  In fact, it is really fun.  However, finding the balance between working 10-12 hour days, socializing/partying with all the cool people here and still managing to get a bit of sleep is proving to be a bit tricky.  Fortunately the weekend (and the end of days, according to some) has arrived and I survived.

Mark sailed for Brisbane early Monday morning, and after working all day I moved into Mooloolaba Beach Backpackers hostel.  I have partied here quite a bit but up until this point had not had the pleasure of sleeping in a hot and stuffy cinderblock room with three other people on a terrible mattress on a rickety bunk bed.  

Aside from the crappy rooms and funky amenities, this place is really cool.  People are super friendly, there is a pool, pool table, free surfboards to use, bikes, paddle boards and of course, a party every night.  I must admit it is fun to get off work after a long, hot day and and relax in the pool with a beer or run down to the beach for a quick surf, but it doesn't leave much time for, say, making a nice dinner or taking a nap before the night's festivities start.  

You would think it would be pretty easy to sleep after cleaning boats for ten hours, surfing in the evening and drinking a few beers, but last night between the stifling, still heat, the mosquitoes in the room, the electrical storm outside and the people next door having ridiculously loud sex, it was nearly impossible.  I was finally able to get to sleep around 3am, only to work at 5:30am.  Such are the joys of living here.

Don't get me wrong - I am not complaining about working or living at the hostel.  It's all good.  This last week we worked on a boat down at Bribie island, close to Brisbane.  I worked with my boss and my co-worker Pete, who are both good guys.  At one point Pete asked me, "What is your least favorite thing about living in Australia?"  I had to think about it for a while because generally things are pretty sweet as here.  

"I would have to say, my least favorite things about Australia is how quick people are to become violent here.  (That, and the fact that all the waves are so crowded),"  I told Pete.  It seems like people have more brawls, fights, road rage, and domestic abuse here than other first world nations.  That being said, there is very little gun violence.  Gun control laws here are very strict as I believe they should be in the States.  People here also seem to be pretty conservative.  I told Pete that whereas I find Aussies very extroverted and open, I am careful about what I say to them.  Not that I would ever not stand up for gay rights or immigrants rights, but I don't start preaching my liberal views when I first meet somebody.

Random wave picture?  Why not.

Later that day as we were finishing up the boat we were working on, the owner came down.  He knew I am a Yank traveling by boat and wanted to give me a few Australia t-shirts.  I thanked him and he told me that they were made in Australia and all that good stuff, and wished me well carrying on sailing into Indonesia.  As we were packing up to leave, the owner and his wife came out to have a chat with us.  He told me to be careful sailing into Asia: "There's a heap of pirates up there and you have to be careful.  You should get a gun.  An AK-47 would be best." 

"Ummmm...thanks.  I think we will be alright though... I am not too worried about it."  I told them.  Then the man went off on a rant about asians immigrating to Australia and how terrible it is, while his wife said under her breath, "If you want to buy a gun without a license I am sure we can arrange that for you."  Thanks, but no thanks.

As we pulled away I asked Dusty, "Did that 70 year old lady just try to sell me guns illegally?" "Yep!  Welcome to Australia mate!"  Dusty said.  "She's a nice lady, isn't she?  Bat shit crazy, but a nice one, hey?"  Welcome to Australia.

As might be able to tell, I am having a great time.  Working, surfing, partying, meeting new people, having new experiences - it's all good.  And while I am having a blast living at the backpackers and working for Dusty, he is taking a vacation and we have knocked off for the holidays.  I fly down to Sydney on Sunday to meet up with Mom and Dad, who have been sailing down there.  I plan to spend Christmas and New Years in Sydney with them and then... who knows?!

Working 9 to 5

Noosa may be a perfect wave but Mooloolaba gets her fair share of barrels too.

I have not been ignoring you, I promise.  It's just that I usually try to wait for something interesting to happen before I write and, well, live has been a bit too normal around here these days.


I don't actually work 9 to 5 - it's usually more like 6 to 6 (including travel time). - because I spent most of last week working on boats in the Brisbane area, which is an hours drive away.  It is kind of nice to have that hour of buffer time between dragging myself out of bed and starting polishing, but it makes for some very long days.

Last week was a bit brutal by my standards, due in part to the fact that I made the foolish decision to go out on Thursday night before working at 6 am on Friday morning.  I can safely say that those 10 hours of scrubbing boats in a parking lot under the searing sun were some of the worst of my life.  Granted, Dusty could have fired me for showing up so ruined, but instead he said things like, "Corie, how are you feeling?"  "HOW ABOUT NOW?!?!"  And laughed his ass off.

Yes, work is good.  But so is not working.  We didn't have much lined up in the way of work this week so Dusty gave me a few days off, which majestically coincided with the first pumping swell that has appeared since I arrived on the Sunshine coast.

Mooloolaba has decent surf but everybody kept telling me how good Noosa gets, so yesterday Mark and I grabbed our boards, hopped on a bus and headed for the famed point break.  In my travels I have taken many a bus to search for many a wave, but none quite like this.  The bus was right on time, it was clean and air conditioned, the bus driver was friendly and very helpful.  Of course it cost us $30 one way to get there, but that is public transportation in Australia for you.

The bus took us right into the heart of Noosa Heads, a cute and touristy surf town complete with surf club,  surf shops on every corner, swanky cafes and designer boutiques.  Mark and I decided to cruise around and get a chic ($10) coffee before going out to surf, and wandered off down a street.  I guess my inner compass was working because within a few hundred meters we ended up on the beach with a perfect right sand point reeling right in front of us.

Dude.  Forget the coffee, let's go surf.  Noosa Heads is a series of point right breaks that, when a north east to south east swell hit, light up and send perfect waves barreling down the beach.  The only problem with this wave is the crowds.  It is actually true that everybody in Australia surfs, and they all descend on the point breaks when it gets big.  At First point alone there were easily 100 people out, with surfers stretching all along the coastline for the next mile of waves.  Groms, girls, old locals, kooks, tourists, shredders, style masters... everybody was out.

Not to be excluded, I grabbed my board and jumped in.  I wished very much that I had a longboard so I could paddle battle for the set waves, but I managed to sit inside and get a few drainers without getting run over by one of the afore mentioned surfers.  I did see quite a few people get run over, lose their boards into the rocks and get dropped in on, but I guess that is how it goes around here - or anywhere with a good wave and lots of tourism.

After a sweet surf and lunch at a swanky cafe, Mark and I took a walk out through Noosa Heads national park because we heard that you can see koala bears in the trees.  Not only did we see a koala bear - which for the record looks exactly like the stuffed animal - but we also saw more and more perfect waves around every point.  What an amazing place.  This is what I envisioned Oz to be: koalas and sandy barrels.

After being taunted by enough waves we headed back into town to surf again.  I bit the bullet and rented a longboard.  I really wanted one of those nice set waves at First point and being on a bigger board allowed me to get one.  And then another.  And another.  By the end of the day it was all I could do not to fall asleep on the bus ride home - sore, sunburned and stoked.

Today was back to work, and I spent 10 hours polishing stainless steel.  Fun!  The swell is still pumping and I am considering heading back up to Noosa this weekend, but who knows, there is lots of fun to be had around here as well.

But the waves will be around for a while.  This current swell is generated from south easterly trade winds, but there is a cyclone off American Samoa which will send more waves our way.  I feel incredibly guilty about this as I have been wishing for a cyclone to form and kick some swell my way, although I have friends on a boat in Am. Sam. who are currently sitting out 100 m.p.h winds in Pago Pago.  I'm sending out positive thoughts to all those in the path of nature's destruction - yachties and locals alike.

The "Real" World

Crocs Rule.   RIP Steve Irwin.

I am getting booted from the nest.  That's right, kicked out, sianara, see you in Sydney.  You see, I made the huge blunder of getting a job here in Mooloolaba, which means that I forgo sailing down the east coast of Australia to Sydney on Rutea.  Who would do such a silly thing?  Well... me.  I guess.


I really shouldn't winge.  In fact, in spite of my whining and - to be honest - total shock at going from not working for two years to working 40 hours per week, I am stoked to have a job.  And it was the plan all along that we would get to Australia and I would get a job and everything would be peachy.  And it is.  I just don't like waking up at 6 AM to be at work by 7, working all day in the hot sun detailing boats.  However at a certain point the only thing worse than working is not working, so I am thankful.

Last week Mark and I were brainstorming about how I could make money, as it seemed that getting a job in Mooloolaba would prove to be extremely tricky.  When we got back from surfing I was walking down the dock and noticed two guys washing a boat.  I went up to them and said hello, introduced myself and asked if they might need any help.  I am, after all, an expert stainless steel polisher.

Dusty, the owner of Marine Detailing Solutions, said "Sure mate!  We could use some help with a few boats coming up.  Have you ever worked on boats?"  Have I?!  Well... I wouldn't call most of it "work", but I was very enthusiastic and low and behold, I had a job.

Incidentally, I secured the job the day Mom and Dad arrived in Mooloolaba.  It was great to see them after two weeks, especially because Dad made lasagna and chocolate cake for dinner.  How I missed them so!  Over dinner Dad casually mentioned that they were only staying in Mooloolaba a few days before heading down south toward Sydney.  Wait, what?  My home is leaving without me?  But... what am I supposed to do?!

Fortunately Mark is not leaving Mooloolaba just yet, so I will move in with him (again) before I am really booted out onto the streets.  I mean, it wouldn't be terrible to move into the backpackers hostel - it is great for a party - I just don't know about living there.  I will avoid it as long as possible.  I must admit it is pretty nice to have free rent.

As for work, it is good.  Dusty is a great boss.  Although he works ridiculously hard and long hours, he takes care of his employees and is patient with newbies.  I am learning useful skills such as how to do marine detailing - buffing and waxing hulls, interior detailing, and lots and lots of cleaning.  Although the work is not particularly fun - in fact it is hard and physically demanding - I can take the things I learn here anywhere in the world to make scrilla.

And there are some perks to my job (aside from getting paid and learning new stuff).  For one, I am fulfilling a plan.  I would feel pretty bad about myself if I did not have a job yet.  There is something about living in a first world country that makes me a bit frantic and feel like I need to work (not felt in say, Vanuatu).  Oz is also insanely expensive and if I ever want to do anything fun I will need cash.

Second, I am meeting new people.  I feel like I have a purpose and fit in with a group of people, like we are all working toward a common goal.  This is good.

Third, we have been working on Croc One, which is the boat of Steve Irwin - the Crocodile Hunter himself.  He actually died on this very boat after being stung in the heart by a stingray in a tragic freak accident.  (I have always said stingrays are my arch nemesis.)  I keep expecting Steve's ghost to jump out and yell "Crikey!" while I am polishing, and it is pretty cool to work on the boat of someone who was so passionate about animals and conservation.

Alas, this is what I have been up to.  Mom and Dad are leaving tomorrow to head for Sydney and I am moving back on to Mark's boat for the time being.  I have been so beat after every day of work that I have not even unpacked from the last time I stayed with him.  Mom feels a bit guilty for leaving me and so is making a nice dinner tonight, but I plan to meet up with them in Sydney for Christmas and the New Year, so I will see them soon.  I would feel bad if they sat around Mooloolaba bored on my account anyway.

Tonight is Friday and it has been a long time since this has had any importance to me.  It feels good.  Party on.

Thanksgiving (And Lack Thereof)

Time is a funny thing.  I am trying to remember when I moved onto Merkava (Mark's boat) and escaped from 1980, but am having difficulty doing so.  I am also having difficulty grasping the fact that I just missed out on my favorite holiday, especially because it is hot, sunny and there are no other Americans around to care.

Let's back up.  Mark helped me to escape 1980 (Bundaberg) just over a week ago (I think).  I piled my essentials onto his boat - surfboards, dive gear, guitar and a few clothes - and we left before dawn one morning.  We spent the next three days sailing down the east coast of Australia through the Great Sandy Strait, which is created by Fraser Island.  We managed to do a bit of exploring, but really it was a bit of a slog, sailing all day to get to the next anchorage before sundown.

On the third day we arrived at our destination: Mooloolaba.  Say it.  Moooo-looooo-laaa-baaaa.  Yes, it's cool.  And not only is the name cool but the place is pretty sweet as well.  We decided to spend some time here because, if you look at GoogleEarth, you can see that the marina is about 100 meters from the beach and there is potential for good surf on many beaches.

In Mooloolaba the marinas are up a river and boats have to cross the bar to enter the harbor.  Mark took the helm as we entered the breakwater and we were motoring along quite nicely until - THUD.  We stopped.  Then jerked forward as the engine revved and then THUD.  Again we stopped.  Oh shit.  Fortunately we were only stuck on the bar for a few seconds before a wave broke behind us and Merkava surfed in through the breakwater.  Not the most graceful entrance, but hey, we made it.

For the next few days I wandered around in a bit of a daze, looking wide-eyed at the high rise hotels and the flashy stores.  They even have Starbucks here!  Not that I have been - a grande mocha is about $6 AUS.  And maybe it is because I have been in the cuts for the past few months, but everything seems pretty damn flashy around here.  Granted, Mooloolaba is a tourist town, but still.

I am not sure if you remember but I became a surf lifesaver last year when I was in New Zealand.  They have the same volunteer lifeguard program here in Australia and the other day I went to their massive surf club/bar/restaurant/state-of-the-art lifeguard station to see about joining.  It is not that I am super keen to be a lifeguard, but it is a good way to meet people and to stay fit.  And they have sweet toys.  However, when I asked about joining they pretty much wrote me off - gave me a phone number and a website to visit.

In spite of their lack of interest I called the offices who then told me that even though I have my bronze award in NZ, it is not recognized in Australia and I would have to pay $300 to do the course again.  To become a volunteer lifeguard.  No thanks.  In NZ it was $30, and I will stick with that.

I must admit I was feeling a bit down after that so I decided to go pay guitar on the beach.  I watched groups of people playing cricket on the beach and couples walking arm in arm down the street, feeling a bit lonely and sorry for myself.  "If I made only one friend here, one friend, I'd be happy," I thought to myself.

As I strummed I noticed a guy walking down the beach with a guitar.  Hey!  I thought, I'll go see about jamming with him - or - if nothing else it will be a good excuse to talk to him.  I walked down the beach and caught up with him, introducing myself with the pretext of wanting to play guitar with him.  Turns out he is a Canadian guy who was just visiting for the day, but he introduced me to a group of backpackers hanging out on the beach who were all very welcoming and generous with their bags of cheap wine, which is called "Goon" here.  Finally, I made friends!

Not only did I make friends, but the surf came up!  The first few days we were here the ocean was totally flat, but finally a small swell came through and Mark and I got nice waves at a beach break called Kawanas.  The next day we took the dinghy out to Alex Heads for a surf and were given heaps of information about waves by an old local guy.

Since then I have been to Brisbane and back - given a tour of the city (and a place to stay!) by my friend Emma who I met in Fiji.  She and her mate Rowan drove up to hang on the beach with us, took me home with them for an urban tour, and then got me back in time for the swell yesterday.  Door to door service!  Brisbane is a cool city but it was a bit of a whirlwind tour so I will definitely have to go back for further investigation.

Yesterday, being Thanksgiving, was 100% not celebrated here by anybody, at least that I am aware of. In fact I nearly forgot that it was my favorite holiday until Emma reminded me.  I considered buying some sort of fowl to cook up for dinner, or at least some deli-sliced turkey for a turkey sandwich, but alas, I was too buys surfing and playing at the beach all day and by the time I got home was too tired to cook anything elaborate.  Mark and I ended up having ramen noodles for dinner which, in spite of being totally stoked off the day, was a bit sad.  It definitely made me miss friends and family.

And in spite of eating instant noodles for Thanksgiving, life is good here in Mooloolaba.  I am in the process of looking for a job, which really means going surfing and asking around the marina if anybody needs an extra crew, and - believe it or not - I already have a few leads.  I'll let you know how it goes.

Bundaberg, Australia

Help!  I'm trapped in 1980 and I can't get out!

Actually this is not quite true - I can get out and I intend to do so in the next day or two - as (allegedly) not all of Australia is stuck in the 80's.

To be fair, Bundaberg is a nice place to make landfall in Australia.  Customs and immigration are very easy, the marina has internet, showers, laundry, and it is a remarkably good place to sleep.  Other than that... well... there is not too much going on here.

I should clarify: we are at Port Bundaberg, which is a marina out in the middle of nowhere.  Aside from marina facilities there is nothing here, except for kangaroos.  Seriously.  Actually, I had to laugh at the irony - the marina has been putting on events every night for the recently arrived yachties and last night was a kangaroo BBQ.  As I was standing in line waiting for my kangaroo steak I saw my first kangaroo eating grass in the field across from the river.  Maybe he smelled his buddy being roasted and came by for a closer look at the bastards eating him...

Regardless, I could take or leave kangaroo.  It tasted like tough, flavorless beef streak, although if well prepared I am sure it is delicious.  And, as it is a national pest and does not leave a huge carbon footprint, it is much more ecologically friendly to eat than say, beef.

That is Port Bundaberg.  Unfortunately the town of Bundaberg (15 km away) does not have too much more to offer, except the Bundaberg rum distillery.  In my own humble opinion Bundaberg rum is only a small step up from Fiji's Bounty rum, but you can decide that for yourself.  It makes sense that Bundaberg would have a rum distillery, because the fields in the surrounding area are devoted to sugar cane.

Other than rum and kangaroo, we have gone to the IGA grocery store as well as the Target.  Yes!  They have Target here.  Unfortunately it reminds me of Target from 1980, and I was not even alive in 1980.  Any Target Superstore USA would be horribly embarrassed to be associated with this little one, with its 4 different choices of shampoo (only four - those in the US have four aisles of choices!) and mishmash of random stuff.  Of course this is a huge step up from the dollar stores in Vanuatu, but it is definitely not USandA, either.

The grocery store, however, is amazing.  They have tortillas.  And salsa.  They have tons of great looking fruits and veggies - broccoli! non-withered carrots! apples! delicious Australia oranges - although even locally grown produce is pretty damn expensive.  We had a great time perusing the aisles in awe of all the good food they had to offer, but had to limit ourselves because we were taking the bus back to the port and could only carry so much.

Everything here - alcohol, most importantly - is expensive.  Not only are prices high, but the Aussie dollar is stronger than the US dollar.  The economy is currently doing very well - even on a Tuesday morning the mall was packed with people buying things.  There are also tons of young people employed everywhere, which is refreshing to see and also gives me hope that one day I too might be employed here, receiving the minimum wage of $16 (OZ).

One thing is I find very bizarre is to see Christmas decorations in the middle of summer.  They do not have Thanksgiving to buffer the onslaught of kitschy Christmas crap so it is all over the malls.  And people are buying it!  Go figure.

As you might be able to infer, I am not all that amped on Bundaberg and looking forward to heading south for a bit more action.  At this point I plan to hop on Mark's boat and sail south with him towards Brisbane, where I have a few mates I am looking forward to meeting up with.  But really, it's all good!

OZ and Obama Part II

Sailing West to OZ -- We made it!!

I am in a much much much better mood today because 1. We have arrived in Australia!  And 2. Obama won!!!!  I am not sure which I am more excited about - the prospect of meeting up with Aussie friends and surfing beach breaks, or knowing that the U.S. is being led by a man who doesn't represent everything that is wrong with America (to put it mildly).

From here on out I will keep the political rambling to a minimum, but I must say that the few Aussies I have met in the few hours I have been here are pretty happy that Obama was reelected.

We arrived in Bundaberg around 6:30 this morning.  We set anchor, had breakfast and then... started cleaning!  Yes, it is the most unexciting thing one could do after two weeks out in the wilds - well two months, actually, if you count Vanuatu - but the boat was filthy and needed it. 

After cleaning up a bit we were called into the dock by customs, who went through our boat, telling us to throw this away and to get rid of that.  They all had good senses of humor and didn't take any of our alcohol (although there isn't much left) but the whole check-in process was fairly painless.

I have yet to make it onto land, as I have been too enchanted with having internet access once again and all the wild information that comes with it.  Aside from learning that Obama won - thanks to a few very short but to-the-point emails from family and friends - I was totally in the dark to the fact that marijuana is now legal in Colorado, the Giants swept the Tigers in the World Series, and a friend of mine from college was mauled by a shark while surfing up in Humboldt.  Apparently he punched the shark in the nose but suffered major lacerations on his torso, although he was rushed into surgery and will make a full recovery.  Go Scotty!

Yes, it is nice to be reconnected to the outside world.  And not only reconnected via internet, but actually able to walk into a grocery store and buy things and understand people!  Now, to find a pair of shoes...