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LETTING OFF STEAM |
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The kitchen timer went “ding”. Another delicious pressure-cooked meal was ready. I placed a clear plastic cutting board on the cabin top aft of the cockpit. Leanne passed the pressure cooker up through the companionway. I put it on the cutting board and turned the pressure release knob. The steam jetted upwards, forming an impressive white cloud in the cold evening air. |
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Left: Grant contemplates the approaching Scarborough Marina, journey’s end for 2009. He is anticipating a shower, a shave, some good food, and catching up with friends. Then straight into the post-cruise maintenance—a skipper’s jobs are never done. |
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EAST COAST MARINA, AUGUST 2009. To finish off this Epistle, let’s have a final flashback to August and our time in East Coast Marina, where we relate the last of the funny things that happened there. |
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The sight of the cloud and the loud hissing noise was too much for a group of passing men. They rushed towards Masala, shouting “What’s wrong, mate!? Can we help?” |
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“No problem,” I called back, “It’s just the skipper letting off steam.” They wandered off with bemused expressions. |
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The distraction could have proved disastrous. I forgot to bring in the plastic tray. Next morning, Leanne went to the back of the boat for something, then came back over the cabin top. She stood on the almost invisible tray. It shot out from under her foot. She crashed down onto the hard steel of the cabin then bounced down into the cockpit, becoming wedged between the cockpit wall and the helm. |
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I saw her fall. It was sickening. Fortunately the tears didn’t last too long and the only consequences were some nasty bruises. I couldn’t believe she wasn’t seriously injured. I took the tray inside and stuck two long strips of duct tape on the underside, in the shape of a cross, so it would never go undetected again. |
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Across the way from Masala was a cute little 35 foot Halberg Rassy yacht called Rassamond. We became very friendly with Rassamond’s owner, Glenn. Glenn had recently returned from cruising around Moreton Bay. While out cruising, the inflatable collar on Glenn’s dinghy was punctured by his swim ladder. Back in the marina, Glenn invested considerable effort in fixing the leak. |
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That evening I was again letting off pressure cooker steam. Suddenly there was frantic yelling from near Glenn’s boat. His neighbour was yelling out “Glenn! Glenn! Your dinghy is going flat!” Glenn shot out of his companionway, rushed to the back of his boat, and started examining every inch of his dinghy. I couldn’t stop laughing. Eventually I called out, “Don’t worry Glenn, it’s just the skipper letting off steam!” |