Yachting

May 73 - Arrived in Australia, this time to stay awhile. I’d had enough of the offshore oil exploration industry that was changing rapidly from the need for operators camped out in rough and remote locations (which lifestyle I loved), to high-tech computerized systems that needed to be done by technicians crammed with too many other men on board the boats (which I hated).

That industry had been ideal to give me the adventure that I enjoyed while building up the financial stake that I would need to follow the next adventure dream of owning my own yacht to cruise the oceans.

Jun 73 – Bought yacht ‘Tangari’.

Tangari under full sail.

A charming classic ‘Tahiti Ketch’ design.

I didn’t really do any shopping around, just bought the cheapest ($9k) solid feeling vessel advertised. It was cheap partly because it was stuck in Gladstone, Qld, which wasn’t much of a town and a long way from the market at that time. It was value for money but not the vessel that I should have bought. Yes it was charming, if that means a whole lot to you but it doesn’t really to me; I’m more attached to practical aspects. This 50yr old timber boat was solid but such wooden boats need a lot of constant upkeep and this one was behind in that chore. So I spent a lot of time scraping and painting and repairing…. It better suited a buyer who enjoys just pottering around and loving the classic lines. I had plenty of money at that time so should have bought a good steel or fibreglass vessel ready to go abroad. A Tahiti Ketch would be a fair ocean-going cruiser, if the wind was always a broad reach, but anything closer to the wind was futile due to a shallow keel and double-ended design that pitches constantly when punching even small waves, constantly dumping the wind from the sails…. Fortunately this one had a good slow-running Yanmar diesel and a big prop, so it motored at hull speed really well. It wasn’t designed as a motor-sailer but worked well that way. With the engine running half throttle it could then go to windward quite well. The rigging was well done and in sufficient condition to cruise coastal and maybe go on the ocean.

  
Had some ‘adventures’ learning how to handle the rig all on my own, but that’s the way I like to do things. It was a challenge but I soon got it under control.

But the catch was, that after all that time chasing around the world and dealing with ‘foreigners’ I was sick of it and just wanted to be somewhere familiar. So I never left the Queensland coast, but that’s a great area for sailing and some adventures to be had there, as we shall see…..

And it was a nice cozy place to live

      

The gallery area.                               

Accommodation and storage

Sailed north to Mackay and around the Whitsunday Islands, classic sailing country and few other yachts there in those days; now it’s crowded and commercialized and I’d hate it, so was lucky to be there when I was.

Eventually worked my way up to Cairns, now getting proper tropical. Hadn’t been anchored there long when I was approached by some divers who wanted to use the boat as a base out at the Barrier Reef when diving to catch tropical fish for the ornamental aquarium market. Well that sounded like a good adventure so we made a deal and I soon was snorkelling over the reef all day chasing pretty little fish with a butterfly net. Looking back on it now, that was a cruel business – plucking those innocent little fish off that beautiful abundant reef and sending them to a life in a fish tank…. And some of them mate for life so we were separating couples and disrupting the whole community…. Then when we brought them ashore and sent them to Melbourne we kept getting claims that many had died in transit…. Bad business…..

 

These divers were wild-looking hippy-types from the hills behind Cairns, and so we got noticed by customs, under suspicion that this was a cover for landing drugs ashore.  Never got searched but another yachty who was in the know told me about it afterward. Of course, if they had raided they would have planted drugs and we would have been in the headlines and probably locked away…. After we had finished the diving business a customs launch came to visit one day, with a ‘friendly’ officer stopping by, allegedly to advise me where to take the boat for shelter in the mangrove creeks in case of a cyclone. Just the friendly advise that other good boat-owners  share, but I reckon he was sussing me out; fortunately I passed which wasn’t hard cause I had nothing to hide; I was way too naïve to realize what could have been….. Don’t need that sort of ‘adventure’.

Then some real hippies from Kuranda, up in those hills, wanted to charter a ride up the coast to the Bloomfield River because one of them had money from selling a restaurant in Melbourne and had an option to buy the ‘Cedar Bay Resort’. They wanted to form a commune and wanted to see the place. Nearby Cedar Bay itself was a well-known remote hippy retreat in idyllic rainforest that ran right down to the beach and only had access by sea. Well that sounded like a good adventure so we loaded up, including bags of chicken manure (what would they want that for??). A strange mixture of characters, from totally spaced-out dreamers to one guy who planned on flying an aircraft out of there…. It was an easy voyage, landed everyone at Bloomfield. When we got out to the supposed ‘Cedar Bay Resort’, it turned out to be only a really basic two-bedroom fibro house in the middle of an over-grown paddock far from the beach! They had been dreaming about a tropical retreat in the rainforest, and had talked about all their crazy dreams, like using carrier pigeons to keep in touch between their little cabins in the forest, so this was a serious shock! Then the rain started, and poured continuously for days like it can in those parts. There wasn’t even a veranda on that little house, so everyone was crowded inside for several of days, must have been ‘overwhelming’…..

Meanwhile, before the rain started, I had motored up the river to a quiet pool that would be a good ‘safe’ anchorage, little did I know…. To get to that pool I had to manoeuvre under a powerline. So I anchored and climbed the mast to sight a level to be sure of clearance, and found that if I motored in close to the bank I’d have about 6 feet to spare. That worked well and was soon anchored in a beautiful ‘safe’ pool surrounded by rainforest.

Then Maori George arrived with his wife and daughter in their tinny. They lived on a ‘houseboat’ farther down the river. That houseboat consisted of a bunch of 44gallon drums under a structure made of bamboo and thatch. Cooking was done on an open fire in an old wheel rim, no other facilities. He had a small outboard at the back and steering ropes running up to the front where he could sit in his chair and very slowly motor around the lagoon – a really classic tropical life. They were good company and stayed overnight because it was raining heavily by now.

It bucketed down all night, and at daybreak could see that the calm pool was now a torrent rushing by. Their tinny had filled with water and was under water and straining at the rope, which then broke and the dinghy was lost. Tangari was heaving on the anchor chain and I could feel the anchor jerk along the stony bottom, then a huge dead tree swept by. So we had to get out of that channel and I decided to motor across behind an island that would give some protection. With the engine at full throttle and George pulling on the anchor chain we could just barely stem the flow. Then the anchor broke loose, and before George could pull in all the chain, the current dragged the bow around and we were headed downstream at speed, out of control. But now we were mid-stream where the power line was lowest and the river was now higher in flood, so the inevitable happened. Of course the forestay hit the powerline and I actually felt a small shock but not the big flash that I was dreading.... The wire lodged in a fitting at the top of the mast and wouldn’t unhook, so the boat slewed around broadside and had the gunnel under water, so the drag was enormous! I heard the rigging creaking and wondered when it would rip the mask right out of the boat….. So put the helm down and with full power steered the bow upstream, and the wire broke loose with a snap and wound itself around the other wires so the powerline was completely out of action. But we were now floating free! Steered over and anchored in a sheltered cove and breathed easier…. Haven’t mentioned yet that George’s wife had only one leg and was below deck with her three year old daughter, so there’s no way they could have escaped if the boat had gone down….. But just as well as they were on board because their houseboat had been swept away and the remains were later found washed up on a beach along the coast….

The town of Cooktown, farther up the coast (where Cook repaired the Endeavor after hitting the reef), had just received it’s supplies for Christmas but now the power was out for days until the line could be repaired, so all their freezers were dead….. Once back in Cairns I had to go for an inquiry by the power company. I was expecting the worst, but when I explained how I had taken all proper precautions going upstream and explained the unexpected torrent of the river, they decided not to take any action. It wasn’t my fault and was truly an ‘Act of God’….. No thanks God, we don’t need that sort of ‘adventure’……

This was now full ‘wet’ monsoon season, so it kept raining and raining and raining…. Living in that little boat was cosy but claustrophobic, and all my clothes were soon damp and mouldy cause nothing would dry. So moved down to Townsville where there’s less rain.

As if owning one boat wasn’t enough hassle, I bought a little commercial fishing boat as well…….

‘La Chica’ (little girl in Spanish)

I had friends who were mackerel fishermen out of Townsville, and I liked the lifestyle that they had. The season is short and frantic when the fish are running, then relax (and work on the boat of course) the rest of the year.

This was the smallest by far of the boats in the fleet, so was cheap because no one else wanted so small. It had a powerful diesel engine and a big ice box, but all that left very little room for accommodation, so I had to use my ability to live rough once again….

The mackerel appear in the cooler ‘dry’ season when the sea conditions are steady and storm-free. They congregate in large schools out around the Barrier Reef and the race is on to find where they are schooling and then frantically circle around with the other boats and catch as many as can in that session. Using a flashing spoon on a short length of piano wire to be able to reel in as quickly as possible. Quickly drag them on board and wallop them with a club and bleed them and get the line back in the water. Can get a whole boatload of fish in an hour if they’re in a feeding frenzy….. These feeding frenzies happen at sunrise and sunset. Once the frenzy is over, go and anchor in a lagoon on the reef and clean fish until finished, hopefully late at night if it was a good day. Mackerel have no scales so are easy to clean – just give them a good brush to clean the skin, cut the head off, tip the guts out, and pack them in the big icebox. The sharks love that offal and rush in to fight for it, in another feeding frenzy, frightening to see them rip and tear, sure wouldn’t want to dip a hand in the water ..…. Then have a meal and enjoy the tranquility of the evening rocking at anchor out on the reef far from land. Next morning out circling around again as the sun rises over the ocean, best time of all! Hopefully find another feeding frenzy before anchoring back in the lagoon for the rest of the day.

Cleaning fish before storing on ice.

That’s a typical size mackerel.

When there was a really good frenzy happening, all the boats wanted to be in on it and it became too congested for me, with boats fighting for position, so I’d head off to try to find another school. I wasn’t an expert at finding real good action but still made enough in the season to pay off the boat. Then I’d had enough of that adventure and sold that boat and moved on…..

Wooden boats need to be frequently painted with anti-fouling paint to stop weed growth on the hull and keep teredo worms from getting in and eating away the wood, and need to check the caulking between the planks to prevent leaks. A wooden boat is just a bunch planks all screwed and puttied together to keep from leaking – very primitive…. To paint the bottom needed to beach the boat on a high tide and prop it against some supports, then rush down and scrub and caulk and paint before the tide comes in again, all the while sloshing around in the mud…. Not many professional boat ramps in those ports in those days and too expensive for us amateurs…. Never certain of finding every worm hole, so then later lying in bed at anchor and imagining the worms that I had might have missed chewing away…. I got really sick of all that maintenance…..

Painting the bottom.                                            

By this time I had got sick of living on a small yacht and always being supported by water. I realized that I needed a workshop ashore and now dreamt of homesteading on the land. So took Tangari down to Brisbane to sell it. Approaching Mooloolaba harbour under full sail, I pulled down and stowed all the sails in a smooth sequence and started the engine just in time. When I had tied up at the jetty an old fella came over and said he had been watching and congratulated me for the expert sail handling, and that was a great finale for my sailing career….. 

Later moved down to Brisbane and tied up at the Botanic Gardens until Tangari sold ($16k), two years after I had bought it for $9000…..

So, after all those years of dreaming of cruising the world and working and saving to make it possible, this ended  my yachting dreams venture,
with relief….

There’s a saying that the two most exciting days of boat ownership,
are the day you buy it,
and the day you sell it!
I’d certainly agree with that……

 I was sick of living on a confining boat, and was eager to find a block of land where I could have a roomy workshop and try to settle down.

 

My pioneering ‘venture’

May 75 – Bought a Bedford truck that had been a horse transport and converted it to a camper. Went to a rubbish tip on a Sunday and found all the carpet and discarded furniture I needed for the fit out.

Then found this great little VW cut-down bug. It bravely went just about anywhere that a 4wd could go. Speedy and agile, great fun to drive! Travelled the road from N Queensland to Brisbane 9 times I think it was….

I’d heard about 10 acres near Cardwell going for $9k, so went to have a look. Looked good to me, so I made the deal. Cardwell was a really sleepy town in those days, with mostly retired sugar cane farmers and some layabouts. The property was all bush with a clean-flowing creek along a boundary, just a few km from town and 1km from the Hinchinbrook Channel. Spectacular scenery all round, with Hinchinbrook Island just across the channel and a wild tropical mountain right behind the place, great adventuring country.

I got an old army tent and built a coconut thatch shade/rain roof over it, a lot like the camp I had lived in on Kiwai Island. That was very comfortable for me, open all round so that birds could fly through, and didn’t feel confining…. It could rain 11 inches in a night and didn’t leak at all. Bathing in the creek, sometimes saw the huge carpet snake that lived along there, but I didn’t bother it and it didn’t bother me.  A bed built of bush timber that later collapsed cause the termites ate it. Bought a whole bunch of French doors from a pub that was being demolished in Cairns. Was planning to build them into a house some day but the termites got to them and ruined them before I got to that. Powerfully hungry termites in that place…. Also cunning native water rats that raided my pantry and learned how to prise the lids off tin containers. No power there. Found a working kero fridge at the tip. Lighting with a pressure lantern, cooking on a kero primus. Very basic but not a problem, cause I like that style of living.

Did the pioneering trip and felled trees in the neighbouring state forest to build a big open workshop, digging post holes by hand and wrestling heavy timbers up for the roof. Took a contract to demolish some old barracks at Macknade sugar mill at Halifax for the building materials, which turned out to be nearly useless but a huge amount of hard work on my own.  Planted fruit trees and a garden and irrigation, etc. Grew great pawpaws and granadillas, which I was able to sell in a shop in Cardwell for a few bucks.  

I knew that regular tomatoes aren’t easy to grow in the tropics due to wilt and virus and grubs, but cherry tomatoes are immune to those problems. I couldn’t find packet seeds of those tomatoes in those days but finally found a couple of rotten cherry toms at an Italian fruit store in Tully, and planted them in the compost pile. They grew like crazy and I feasted on them. My toilet was just a trench that I backfilled as it progressed. When the wet season started, up came a whole row of cherry tomatoes, grown from the seed that passed through. When a water and irrigation inspector was visiting I served him sandwiches with those tomatoes on top. When I told him how they had grown he politely finished the sandwich he was on but didn’t touch any more…. Whenever I went to visit friends at Magnetic Island or the Atherton Tableland or wherever, I brought along some of those young plants wrapped in wet newspaper and surreptitiously planted them in their rubbish piles. It was a buzz to visit next time and see the vines taking over the place. I even brought some to Maleny when I moved, and that established many of the cherry tomatoes that now grow wild there. Sort of like’ Johnny Tomato Seed’ rather than Johnny Apple Seed….

Got a dozer in and cleared too much open ground to look after in the tropics. Had visions of planting an avocado orchard because the rainfall records showed a minimum average of 42mm in the driest month of August and that would be just enough. But that was just an ‘average’; in reality it sometimes rained 200mm in a thunderstorm in one August and then didn’t rain at all in August for the next four years, so that would still make the average, but those dry years would devastate the trees….  Planted a crop of rough-leaf pineapples, and they grew but not as fast as the tropical weeds; soon realized that the battle wouldn’t be worth the return….

Found a little Fergie tractor for $400. It did an enormous amount of hard work for so many years, towing big logs like a dozer. Took it with me to Maleny and used it for spraying groundsel bush, couldn’t have done without it.

A lot of HARD work, often in temperatures 36°c….. Too much hard work, no common sense….. Burned myself out…. Didn’t get to climb that mountain until after the place was sold just before I left, and then discovered all sorts of adventure up there. Used to be small scale tin mining up there, but abandoned long ago. But found a recent camp with unused gelignite laying around and evidence of interest in growing dope …..

Speaking of which I did have an ‘adventure’ earlier on when I had the place for sale, with a sign out on the highway. Three Italian fellas in a ute with NSW plates wheeled in and wanted to buy the place for cash in hand, even though I already had a contract with someone else. They insisted but I held them off, wondering what they wanted. Finally they admitted that they were looking for a place to grow a big dope crop. They had come from Griffith, NSW which had been a big dope growing area until it got clamped down by the police. Then they wanted me to cancel the contract and partner with them to grow the crop. They intimated that there would be a million in it for each of us, and they had contacts in police who would warn them if the drug squad was going to raid. Of course I wasn’t tempted at all – just imagine if the crop was successful and they loaded up a truck and I asked for my share – I’d probably be ‘disappeared’, not just because they didn’t want to pay but they wouldn’t want any witness…. One of them even wore a T-shirt with an image of an angry-looking vulture saying, “I just want to kill something”, and he kept scratching himself with a box-cutter knife that he kept in his pocket…. Being out there on my own with those guys was frightening….. All I could do was keep calm and explain to them why it wouldn’t work there. I let them know that the locals were stickybeaks and they already had me suspect cause I was different and kept to myself. The weed control man came to inspect even tho there were no weeds to chase (the drug squad often contracts weed inspectors to hunt for dope crops because the weed inspectors have the right to enter any land without a warrant), and  the power company had the right to drive thro the property on their way to the big transmission line out back. Finally they saw that there was no way they could get away with anything there. Then we settled down and had a friendly discussion about where they might go. I suggested they find an agreeable Italian cane farmer and they could plant their crop in the middle of a tall cane field where it would be out of sight. I kind of wish I’d been able to hear how they made out, but of course that wouldn’t be cool….. Not a good adventure…..

I’d had enough of slaving in the heat for a project that wouldn’t pay off, so decided to sell the Cardwell property. I knew that some day it would be valuable for sub-division, due to it’s prime location but didn’t want to wait that long. I drew up provisional plans for sub-division and put it up for sale, planning to move to the Atheron Tableland where there would be a milder climate and better soil.

So sold that property and all the junk I had accumulated there for $27k. So another two-year adventure finished…. Lately I’ve flown over it and it’s now sub-divided and Cardwell is a booming tourist town with a swank marina full of flash yachts, so land values must be very high…. I guess I should have hung onto it even if I didn’t live there, and then sub-divide when the prices were right, but such is life…..

 

Maleny

Jul 77 – While still at Cardwell, some friends came thro who were driving to Maleny and extolling it’s potential, and had a spare seat so I went for the ride. Never heard of Maleny before but was impressed with the lush green charm. Then spotted a 100acre property for $32k! Any land on the Atherton Tableland was way dearer than that. It had been a dairy farm long ago and later a beef farm, but had since been neglected for some years and was now in a mess…. This property was steep, with a landslip like a glacier all the way thro it, and covered with groundsel bush and blackberry and lantana and the house was neglected and sagging, thus the price. I had the money so bought it, planning to sub-divide off the house on a couple of acres and clean it up a bit and sell the two portions for a good profit. Didn’t turn out that way as we’ll see later…..

Oct 77 – Moved to Maleny with my tools and possessions. Quite an adventure drive, dodging police because some didn’t believe that towing the VW was legal, and all with poor brakes on the truck, but made it through….

No sooner got to my new home than received an invite from the captain who ran that supply boat to that Kiwi Island where I had worked in PNG. He wanted to take the boat to the Phillipines and get some major work done on it, and find a Filipina girlfriend and needed a deckhand. Joined him in Cairns and we sailed away as bystanders on the dock had to restrain his previous girlfriend from jumping off and committing suicide, so it was a great relief for him to be free of all that drama….. Soon found out that we didn’t get along at all, so it was great relief when he met an old friend of his in Lae, on the north coast of New Guinea, and that fella wanted to join so I could sign off.

Flew on to the Phillipines for a short tour, then on thro Honk Kong and to Alberta just in time for Christmas. Did the Christmas visiting then back to summer in Queensland.

This was the first time I had owned a house, and felt claustrophobic inside so slept on the veranda for the first weeks. Soon got busy fixing up the house, some new stumps to keep it from falling down the hill, tore out a couple of walls to open up the pocky little rooms and of course a lot of painting. Starting to look a lot better.

Got a dozer in to push some tracks thro the slip zone so I could drive the Fergie around. Built a tank and a pump on the tractor to go spraying. But the groundsel was so high that the 2-4-D spray often drifted back down on me, not good. So I had to get a helicopter in to blast it from the air. That defoliated it so I could follow up and spray the regrowth, which was prolific and persistent. Dragging the long hoses and stumbling over that rough broken ground was hard work but great for getting fit. And satisfying to see less and less each year, until it became a challenge to get rid of every bit of the groundsel. Took years and a whole lot of persistent effort but I beat it! Then the Kikuyu grass came back and made excellent green pastures once again and it became a very pretty property.

Before

That's flowering groundsel trees spreading everywhere.

 

After.

All cleaned up.

May 78 – Made first FireDrum. Helen Gill was going to house sit while I went to North Qld again. It was chilly winter so I improvised that heater. Turned out that it worked so well that I decided to manufacture them, which wasn’t at all easy as we shall see…..

Jun 79 – Sold off first lot across the creek to Dr. Kay Evans, the start of ‘living off the land’, one sub-division at a time…..

As mentioned earlier the plan had been to sub-divide the house off on a couple of acres and then sell both portions for a profit and head back north to find somewhere in the wilds of North Queensland, but then Julie got pregnant and I decided that this would be a better place to try to raise a family.

30 May 80 – Krista born.

Aug 80 – To Canada with Julie and Krista.

All of 81 – Busy on Maleny property.

Feb 82 - Mum arrived for a visit and I picked her up at the airport, but when we got home we got the terrible news that her son Bob had died while skiing…. So we decided to accompany her back to Canada and quickly packed and arranged a flight.

Spent the summer living in my old home on the farm there. Julie was so eager to get gardening and planted too early so the last frost turned it all black….. Decided to stay until the harvest. Then my Dad died in September, leaving Mum alone so we stayed on until November. Finally found our way home via a visit to Julie’s sister in Los Angeles.

Good to be back in our own place, but the property was rundown due to no maintenance and Julie’s precious garden was all weeds. The big disappointment for me was that before going away I had raised two pigs (named Ham and Bacon) to just the right size then took them to an abattoir that specialized in home-curing ham and bacon, and had one converted to the most luscious ham and bacon ever. But the house-sitters were vegetarians and had unwittingly unplugged the freezer and now it was stinking mess…..

                                                    Taking the pigs to market.

Apr 83 – Tested the first HotDrum and decided to manufacture them.

May 83 – Mum arrived for a visit, but she was not impressed with our ‘homesteading’ lifestyle; she had spent too much of her life in that hard life that they had worked their way out of.

Sep 83 – I was finding it hard to be in a partner ‘relationship’ with Julie. Not particularly due to Julie, but I’d always been a loner and longed for that lifestyle again…..

Jan 84 – Krista and I moved to Wells Rd cabin. The arrangement was to be that Krista should spend alternate weeks with Julie but ended up spending most of her time with me, I guess because I ‘spoiled’ her more and no religion talk…. I found it a whole lot easier to be a single parent than being in a partnership.

Oct 84 – I kept using the workshop at the old place to manufacture the Hot Drums. Sold 104 HotDrums and kits last year, with a lot of hard, noisy work.

 

Sep 83, Sep 84, Aug 85, Aug 86, Aug 87, Aug 88, Mar 89, Mar 90, Mar 91, and Oct 91  – To Canada with Krista to visit Mum because she was alone then. A lot of travel costs but figured that the inheritance from the farm was best spent on visiting Mum. When checking in for that ‘89 flight I found that I had left my passport at home…. Krista was very distressed at not being able to go as anticipated, so I (recklessly) allowed her to go on her own at age 9…. Of course by this time she had so much experience in such flights that she could do it, but when she got to Vancouver they had missed the last connecting flight for the day to Edmonton, now what??…. But fortunately, a very helpful airline employee offered to take her home for the night and arranged a flight next day (Canadians are so kind in all the right ways!)….. I followed with my passport a couple of days later.

Krista has flown to Canada 12 times already at age 9, and more to come of course.

Nov 86 – To N Qld in old van with Krista.

Dec 88 – To N Qld with Krista and Zoe??.

Jun 89 – I had always felt like an Australian citizen, but finally made it official.

Jun 89 – Bill bought corner block.

Jul 89 – Annabel and Chris and Jen came to visit.

Aug 89 – Krista got Tickles. The best little dog we could hope for.

Krista volunteered to raise orphaned wallabies. Now they’ve multiplied and thrived, and that valley has many happy wallabies.

Dec 89 – Finished with the HotDrum business at last, and passed it on to Ken….. It had been a very hard and stressful 5 years battling with that business. It was a good design and a good product and popular, but I wasn’t at all good as a factory manager, always running around behind schedule. Pricing too low and not good control on costs, so never any profits…. Too much of the time with a knot in my stomach from stress, pretty much burned myself out….. Took awhile to recover…. But hundreds of homes were cosy due to our efforts, and several years later it was a thrill to see a Hot Drum glowing in the background when TV was interviewing a country singer in cold Tenterfield.

Mar 90 – Started ultralight training.

Jun 90 and again Jun 91 – To Yowah opal field with Krista and Zoe.

Scratching for opal chips.

Jun 91 – Camel safari with Krista. A great and memorable trip!

Camel girl

Aug 91 – Krista to school in Canada. Boarding with the Hoylands.

Jan 93 – Krista back from school in Canada.

Jan 93 – Krista to Sommerville House school.

Mar 93 – Krista back from Sommerville House school.

Apr 93 – I go to Canada, Mum died….

Sep 93 – To Bali with Krista and Zoe.

Jun 94 – To Cairns with Krista and Jen.

Feb 95 – Krista started at St Peters.

Jun 95 – Skiing Mt Buller with Krista and Lena.

Sep 96 – To Bali with Krista and Lena.

 

Mar 98 – Krista to Canada, staying at Annabel’s. Annabel very impressed how Krista went out and found a job in a jewelers shop right away.

Jun 98 – Krista in N Ireland and London.

Sep 98 – Krista at Augustana College in Camrose, Alberta.

May 99 – Krista and Dragan here.

Feb 2000 – Krista home from Canada at last.

Apr 01 – Krista away to London.

Sep 01 – Met up with Krista in Canada.

Sep 02 – Krista and James visiting.

Jan 04 – Krista to dentist in La Paz, Bolivia while travelling South America.

Aug 04 – Krista home again.

Sep 06 – Started producing Stolspeed VGs

Oct 06 – Krista to Darwin and Centre.

Jan 07 – Krista in Vancouver.

Feb 07 – Krista back from Canada.

May 07 – Painting house that Krista had built in Maleny.

Sep 08 – To India with Krista and Lena.

View from our $3 cheap hotel.

Jan 2010 – Sold last 10 acres of Maleny property for a great price!

 

Kilcoy

Mar 2010 – Bought property and moved to Kilcoy

Sep 2012 – Krista and I did road trip USA.

Crater Lake, Oregon.

Oct 2013 – Krista married.

2012, 2013,2014 & 2015 - Flying road trips in the USA.
                                           See Flying Adventures Chapter 8.

Jan 2023 - Krista offered a lucrative job in Canada, and moved whole family there.

2023 - Afterward.

Right now at age 83, I'm going pretty well considering age. Fortunately health is good, and mood is good. Enjoying this stage of retired life. Sometimes a restless urge to have a project, but I have enough experience with multiple projects in the past so not tempted to start anything new; actually getting pretty lazy, but feels good….

I really love where I’m living. In my small ‘man cave’ in the end of my workshop. Very basic but just to my liking. Fine view across my large backyard to the creek at the boundary. Two acres right on the edge of a small town, with complete privacy, can’t be built out. I can pee on the grass out front or under the tree out back. The house up front rented for a small income.

The local airfield is 6km away, I can see the hangars from my back door. Very quiet and peaceful, in beautiful surroundings.

Surrounded by a scenic water reservoir, unusual for dry Australia.

Such a change from my early restless days, when I forever wanted to be going somewhere. Now I don’t want to go anywhere, not even to visit Krista in Canada.

I just want to spend all my last days right here. 

Go to Chapter 88

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