Things that go "bump" in the night

“From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggedy beasties and things that go bump in the night...good Lord, deliver us.” An old Scottish prayer

It was after 10pm. We were winding down the day, near the end of a video on the computer, almost falling asleep when WHAM!...something hit the boat.

We jumped up, startled and clambered on deck. Our heartbeats quickened; a little adrenaline rush. David turned on the spreader lights. He rushed aft; I shot forward. The night was inky black, the moon behind thick clouds. The wind had been in the mid-high 30 knot range all day. We feared one of the little boats on moorings in the bay had broken loose.

David called to me: “I found what hit us.” I made my way aft, looking in the water for a log or little skiff. I could see nothing. David pointed to his feet. A rather large seagull had flown head-on into our shrouds and was laying on the deck in a stupor. The WHAM had been very significant and this guy had obviously been speeding and not looking at where he was going. He lay very still for several minutes and then slowly came around, squawking loudly at us as if we had planted those shrouds in the way just to trip him up.

We had had a similar instance in Preservation Inlet, Fiordland, way down on the southern tip of New Zealand's South Island. At anchor on a rainy, foggy night, we heard a similar WHAM. It was a fairy prion on our coach roof. It apparently had hit the boom while flying over the boat. He gathered his little prion wits together as we scrambled topsides and flew away before we really had a good look at him. We went back down below.

Shortly thereafter, there was loud TWANG, then a THUMP. Was this the same prion or a different one? It sounded as if he'd hit a shroud. Before we could open up the companionway slider and get topside to investigate, we heard something tap, tap, tapping at our portlights. A prion was peeking in at us from the side deck. We heard a commotion in the cockpit. Another prion, no two prions, no four … we lost count … were sitting in our cockpit, pecking at the portlights and at the companionway hatch boards. A couple were just relaxing on the cockpit seats. We could hear them chatting amongst themselves. “Do you think anyone's home? Will they let us in?” Most of the birds eventually found their way out of the cockpit and flew off. A couple remained and David gently wrapped them in towels and put each in turn back into the water.

Discussion with a naturalist a few days later confirmed that this was not unusual on foggy nights. The birds became confused and disoriented and headed towards light … our anchor light and interior cabin lights to be exact.

Well, back to our night visitor. It was dark, but not rainy or foggy. Our seagull friend had no excuse other than he wasn't paying attention. He squawked a bit more, but looked like he was no worse for the wear. He fluttered and flapped his wings a bit, but still appeared a bit disoriented. David wrapped a towel around him and put him back in the water, hoping he'd recuperate better in his own element.

You just never know when friends are going to drop in.

Happy Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is just another Thursday here in Tasmania... and everywhere else, I guess, except the US. We almost missed it this year. I always thought it was the LAST Thursday in November, but it's actually the FOURTH Thursday in November. This does not usually present a problem except when there are five Thursdays in the month...like this month, for instance. Our Australian calendar certainly doesn't show it as a holiday. Good thing Lin mentioned it in her email or we would have missed a major American celebration. Having just recuperated from my birthday, gearing up to eat another large meal with special treats was probably unwise, but you gotta do what you gotta do. We have a one-day advantage time-wise over the States, so I can report Thanksgiving before you even lift your fork for that first bite of turkey swimming in gravy. We usually go to the supermarket, find a turkey and measure it to make sure it'll fit in our little oven (that always elicits some stares from the locals). We've had problems the last couple years finding turkeys, but we managed to find a large breast and two turkey shanks aka drumsticks to roast up this year. Buying a turkey in Australia requires taking out a small mortgage. They're very expensive, but it's Thanksgiving. What are you going to do?

One of the challenges on the boat includes finding enough space in the fridge to store everything in advance. While we had the marina's van we bought everything we needed and our tiny fridge was crammed to bursting with holiday food. Finding enough pots and pans to cook everything qualifies as a challenge as does finding enough room to prepare everything. And then there's also sitting six people around our saloon table; and most importantly, figuring out the logistics for getting everything cooked and ready for serving simultaneously with a small oven and only two working burners on the propane stove. We always manage. It just takes some forethought.

It was a gray November day which sounds just like Thanksgiving in New England when I was a kid. Kind of raw, but no threat of snow here. There's always an air of expectancy, a childlike thrill on a holiday morning. We had our list going...clean the boat, make the stuffing, don't forget to chill the wine, don't forget to cook the turkey. As we get older, even the more obvious things go on the list.

David made a pumpkin pie and fresh dinner rolls. I was preparing the rest of the menu. We whistled and sang as we worked, bumping into each other and constantly trading places in our little galley. It was a most enjoyable morning. We had the whole day to prepare since some of our guests had to work today and dinner was planned for around 7pm.

We like celebrating Thanksgiving with friends. Everyone enjoys a good celebration and a good meal. Sharing it with non-Americans is a good cultural exchange. We invited Aussie friends Craig (of raptor and reptile fame) and his partner, Jody, as well as our boat-watching friends, Ian and Wendy. Definitely a full table for Nine of Cups. Neither couple knew much about our US Thanksgiving (why would they?), so we gave them the romanticized Pilgrim and Indians spiel. We did not, however, sing the Gobble, Gobble Turkey Thanksgiving song...too much American culture.

The menu included the usual turkey with stuffing and gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans almondine, squash, cranberry sauce. I searched and searched for either fresh or frozen cranberries to make our traditional Cranberry Pudding for dessert, but to no avail. Instead for dessert, we settled on a freshly made pumpkin pie a la David and blueberry crisp a la Marcie with freshly whipped cream. Nobody complained and no one left the table hungry.

We do count our many blessings on this day. To have each other and Cups and to live the life we lead goes beyond the usual “blessings” category. We're blessedly fortunate.

One other thing about Thanksgiving...it signals the start of the Christmas season. That means, Christmas music is allowed on Nine of Cups from now till Christmas Day … yet another thing to be thankful for. The Captain does not agree. Fa la la la, la la la la

The 90-day rule...part 3

These special occurrences are not planned, nor are they contrived. Sometimes we go for awhile and nothing special seems to happen, then all of a sudden, we are overwhelmed. For instance, we expected our stop at Pitcairn Island to be special, but it was over the top. After all, anchoring in Bounty Bay and having breakfast with Brenda Christian of Fletcher Christian fame (or infamy) cannot help but be special. Brenda had breakfast waiting for us when we arrived and her husband, Mike, took us on tours of the island. They loaded us up with the best of the island's fresh fruit and souvenirs when we left. When we moved on to the Gambiers, our entrance into French Polynesia, we weren't expecting anything quite as special. Our French was adequate, but not great and the locals were pleasant, but not particularly outgoing until we met a young pearl farmer named Dada. For some reason, Dada took a liking to us. He was a commercial pearl farmer, but did not run commercial tours like others in the area.

He invited us to his pearl farm where he actually allowed us harvest pearls from his oysters and then experiment with the delicate process of reseeding them. Much to our chagrin, our reseeding technique was unsuccessful and we ended up having oysters for lunch. We offered to pay; he was insulted. Not only did he not accept our offer of money, he gave us the exquisite black pearls we had harvested. We always try to pay back in friendship and small gifts, but quite honestly we had nothing to equal his gifts to us.

Let's move ahead to Niue, another tiny island nation, this time in the middle of the South Pacific. We had made the acquaintance of Keith well in advance of our arrival through our association with SSCA (Seven Seas Cruising Association). We kept in touch as we traveled across the South Pacific, so he was well aware of our arrival time. He greeted us with traditional tiare flower leis, took us on island tours and made each day in Niue special and exciting. The serendipity came into play when he asked us if we'd like to meet the President of the country. And we did!

How about friends of ours coming to visit us in Sydney last year and Fay announced she'd been in contact with a long, lost cousin. Would we mind taking a road trip to Canberra, Australia's capital territory (like Washington, DC in the US) with them? We're always up for inland travel and this portended to be a fun trip. It was beyond fun when we discovered her long, lost cousin worked for the Governor General of Australia. He took us for tours of government buildings and monuments, gardens and galleries. The piece de resistance...a trip to Government House, the residence of the Governor General. We were astounded as we drove up to the gates and the guards just opened them and let us drive through.

Innumerable times people have walked by our boat on a dock or paddled by in a kayak or dinghy and we poke our heads out and say hi. An instant conversation ensues and before you know it, we're sitting at their dinner table or they're sitting aboard Cups...old friends.

If we sound like we're bragging, forgive us...it is not our intent. We are sharing with you our utter amazement at the generosity and kindness of strangers. People, one on one, are so much alike. Despite political, religious, cultural and racial differences, we find that we are all so much more alike than we are different and what differences there are can most times be celebrated rather than merely tolerated.

What's the moral of this story? To paraphrase the good luck dragon: Good luck finds you if you keep on trying. He's right!

Now you'll have to excuse us. New friends whom we've just met on the dock have invited us to go on a Tasmanian wine tour with them. Wow!