Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
and the heads. Everything was eventually laid out on the grass upon the sails. I then took
my hose pipe and sprayed down inside the whole of the interior. I took a bucket, filled it
with soapy water, and began scrubbing and scouring all the surfaces and soles, cupboards,
and bulkheads. I was so engrossed with the scrubbing inside that I failed to see or hear the
rain falling outside….
By the time it dawned on me that it was pouring with rain, everything was soaking wet.
I almost fell down the ladder in my haste to cover my possessions. There was no point;
everything was soaked. I cursed long and hard at that bad Murphy in the sky and at his
mother and father as well. I was furious. I sat down on the wet grass very dejected; all my
books, which included most of the pilot books I had been carting around from South Africa,
had to be thrown in the trash. Several of my charts had a similar fate. It was a mess: all my
clothes, bed clothes, bunk cushions, mattresses, etc. I was back to sailing!
A vaguely familiar car pulled up in the park and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a
shapely, young woman emerge. It was Liza. She had grown her hair and was dressed in a
tight pair of slacks and flimsy white sweater; she looked great.
“I was wondering when you would get in. I've been keeping an eye on your boat!” She
smiled broadly, mincing over to the boat.
“Hi there Liza! Yeah I just got in from Sydney yesterday.” I briefly told her of my trip and
how I had been cleaning when the skies opened up all over my possessions.
“Come on then mate, let's clean it up,” she said, observing my pitiful, wet possessions with
a shake of her head.
“Oh, you don't have to.” I started, but she held up her hand.
With her help, we were able to put most of the items back into the boat. A lot of the clothing
and bedding she insisted on taking back to her trailer to wash and dry. I was touched by her
sweetness as I climbed into the car next to her.
“Won't Travis be there now?” I asked nervously, remembering the last time I saw her hus-
band.
“Oh 'im, he's taken off to visit with his family; he's never around these days. A lot has
'appened since you been gone mate. I still 'ave your bike at my place; she's a little rusty but
still good to go.” I had stored my bike at her trailer when I'd left.
“Thanks Liza, you're a good friend.” I touched her lightly on the shoulder. She turned and
smiled warmly at me. She was a good-hearted woman. I helped her wash my clothes and
bedding at the park's communal laundry center, and we hung them out on the lines provided
near her house.
