Category: Musings


It rains. And rains. And rains. And rains. Yes, this beginning is remarkably similar to the chapter ‘In Which Piglet Is Entirely Surrounded By Water’. Except unfortunately, this is written in the first person. That would be me. Or the damp version of me.

Rain clouds over Camden River

“Let’s go north!” they said.
“As quick as we can!” they said.
“No!” said I. “There is too much rain up there.”
– blank stares –
“Let us noodle slowly up southern New South Wales. Let us wander Pittwater, explore Port Stephens, Lake Macquarie, the Nambucca River, Camden Haven… Enjoy the journey rather than focusing on the destination.”

“But muuuu-uum, we want to go to ISLANDS. Proper islands, with white sand…and turtles! And COCONUTS.”

The problem, I have realised belatedly, is that the rest of the crew are jaded seafarers. No longer content with weather being a balmy 20℃ with water temperature to match, or the noodling exploration of the coast of New South Wales. They have turned their flat and calculating eyes north, and can barely be persuaded to examine anything else. Especially if it’s not an island.

Coming over the bar of the Camden River.

Meanwhile, I am Piglet, entirely surrounded by water. And I mean entirely. It is around me, below me, leaking through the hatches on to me and falling from the clouds above me with unrestrained enthusiasm. The washing flapping outside all over the rigging is having the fifth rinse since being hung out with a hopeful heart, and looks sadder with each one. The solar panels exist as mere decorative rectangles and the generator is our lifeline.

I think of Jean, of Belinda, of Melissa – each in their lovely houses. All of them probably think they would love to swap places with me, fanging up the coast on a catamaran. And they probably would, for the first two days. It would be the third day that would break them. The damp. The inability to open the hatches for fresh air because: DELUGE. The crew niggling at each other. Sticky floors…

Their tolerance, I suspect, would be far lower than mine BECAUSE THEY ALL HAVE LOVELY HOUSES. I have a small wet caravan back in the land where, if the temperature cracks 14℃, there is a celebratory feeling in the cold, cold air. More to the point, if I had a lovely house, I would probably be in it. I don’t have anything against Winter, as long as I get to control the extent to which I am exposed to it. Winter is a time of cold clear skies, woodfires (though polluting), soup and mulled wine.

That last sentence? That is what I very much hope I will be experiencing this time next year. Which will naturally coincide with a Winter in the north having minimal rain and consistent southerlies. Don’t care, because I may have somewhere to plug in my slow cooker. And might’ve even found a job.

Cutting the rope from the propeller.

Hello again!

Blasting out of the ether after about 18 dormant months – the longest break since 2002 – am I even going to detail what’s gone undocumented? In brief dot-points:

  • mid 2020 bought block of land in Franklin, Tasmania
  • spent two and a half years trying to get the documentation together to build a house – still waiting…this time it’s a hydraulic engineer’s report
  • during that time M and I split (AMICABLY) and continue to co-parent. He’s on the boat, I’m on the block in my caravan, Smalls are in between both.
  • both Smalls began going to school with variable success
  • M, the Smalls and I are sick to death of our housing situation and see no end in sight; this has led to us starting to think laterally about our building options and…
  • escaping Tasmania for the Winter of 2022 on Bella Luna. It feels like there’s nothing to stay for…
  • which isn’t quite true, but another Winter without a house feels untenable.
  • in July 2021 (after I became a caravan-dweller) I got the world’s best dog, ‘Uli’. He died on 14 February 2022 when he was hit by a car.
    Cue: devastation from all of us. He is buried on the block.
  • a month or so later, still devastated, I was driving through NSW and got another dog – ‘Miso’ and it seems it is possible to mourn and delight at the same time.

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén