Perth Nov 27 – December 2
As nice as it is to stop a day or two on a journey, it’s always good to get underway again and Perth was no exception. Having arrived Sunday we’d been there for just over five days with very little to do but wait on assorted tradesmen to arrive and complete the repairs we required. First and most efficiently was the sail maker. After Last Chapter’s illustrious owner had created some crude modifications on the mainsail (put hole in it), it was time to have the tired old thing (the sail not the owner) repaired. Arriving first thing Monday morning the sail repairer hauled off the main sail in his station wagon after much bending, coaxing and heaving from us as the main sail isn’t exactly tiny. It was returned to us as promised on Wednesday completed with a new baton.
Not so efficient was the fridge mechanic. He eventually did arrive on Tuesday but took one cursory glance at the situation and bluntly told Peter “you don’t need me you need an electrician. Needless to say Peter wasn’t too amused with his attitude but I think that may have been compounded by the fact he was sporting a nice little hangover from our Sunday night session at the Fremantle Sailing Club whilst being entertained by Brian Cadd, Russell Morris & band.
Let me make it understood though, that the hangover that Peter and if truth be known myself included were blessed with, came not so much from excessive drinking but due to completely forgetting to eat that day. It was, I admit rather strange when on our third beer we began feeling rather ragged and by our fifth and probably last beer of the night we were very shabby indeed. Apart from that night’s musical nostalgia (not sure whether I really needed to hear “The Real Thing” done live) by albeit the original artist, a middle aged, balding though hatted to hide the fact, somewhat pudgy “used-to-be” pop star!
Now, where was I? Oh yes. Earlier that evening, we were introduced to one of Hugh’s five daughters and her boyfriend who proceeded to whisk the Hugh-man (our endearing moniker for Hugh) away for a spot of dinner. At least one of the team had enough common sense to eat. We are assured by Hugh that Peter and I didn’t make fools of ourselves in front of his delightful daughter but then again the night was but young when we met her.
The only disappointment for the night was in retrospect that we didn’t get to see Hugh dance to Brian Cadds’ “A little Ray of Sunshine”. Given Hugh’s passion for “dancing” it would have been a treat for us and perhaps a near nirvanic experience for him
All through the following days whilst berthed at the Sailing Club we were constantly asked about the yacht, where was she from, where was she going, who made her etc, there’s no doubt about it Last Chapter certainly is an eye catcher with virtually everyone either beginning or ending a conversation with “she’s a beautiful boat”. Given the slovenly condition she was in before and the sparkling one presented now, we take just a little pride in all the attention she gets. It’s a pleasure sitting out on the cockpit with a beer in hand knowing she’s now all tidy and gleaming.
Speaking of beer, what would be a trip to Fremantle without sampling some of the local brews? So sample we did. Our respective partners will be pleased to know that we sampled politely, limiting ourselves during our visit to only one PINT of every type of local brew each. I’m so glad that there are only around 50 local brews! Needless to say that VB not falling into the category of local brew, was drunk without restriction.
We only went out for dinner twice whilst in port, once to Clancy’s Fish Café and a particularly pleasant night recommended by Peter at the Little Creatures Brewery where Hugh after much prodding and interrogation opened up and supplied us with enough personal material for plenty of good natured fodder for the rest of the trip. See: dancing reference earlier of which Bev (Hugh’s wife) and his five daughters (yes you did read correctly earlier 5!) will appreciate completely. The rest of you reading this will have to reach your own conclusions.
Tuesday through to Friday was spent either chasing tradesmen, or chasing down items for the boat. Hugh had a night ashore with his daughter and returned sporting a rosier complexion given his previous green phase and a brand new Thailand courtesy flag. Peter on the other hand came back empty handed when he tried to pick up the previously ordered, delivered and confirmed lugs for our new life-raft. A phone call prior proffered a “Oh yes Mr. Neaves, ready for you to pick up when you’re ready”, only to be told when he arrived at the address “yes well, they were here but someone sold one of the two but another shipment will arrive on Friday”. The steam from Peter’s ears could have run a sauna for a whole weekend.
Eventually things started falling into place, the fridge it appears needed a new water pump and would be installed Friday, the life raft and lugs would be done by Thursday and customs would be able to clear us around 2.30pm Friday. Speaking of customs, given we’re clearing Australia from Freo it was considered sensible that we should stock up on duty free. The only one in Freo turned out to be run (and I use the term loosely there) by a bejeweled pre-menopausal (and I use the term lightly here) BITCH! Our request to purchase alcohol, cigarettes etc was met with the most unhelpful and venomous reply.
Bitch: (spitting) well you need to give me 24 hours you know. It has to be organized with customs and couriered to your boat. When are you leaving?
Us: Yes we realize that. We’re going tomorrow.
Bitch: Well that’s hardly 24 hours!
Us: This time tomorrow afternoon.
Bitch: Exactly 24 hours!
Us: Yes we are leaving tomorrow afternoon 24 hours from now.
Bitch: Well, where’s all the paperwork?
Us: we’ll go and get it
Bitch: well that will be more than 24 hours then won’t it?
Us: (to the delight of the other customers who are as bemused as we are and the pleasure of her no doubt terrorized employees we jump the counter, threatening to shove her duty free where the sun don’t shine)
Ok I made the last bit up, it was just I vision I had whilst listening to the bitterness spewing from her cruel twisted cheaply lipsticked mouth. Instead we just walked out empty handed in a state of stunned disbelief. We knew full well that if we returned with all the paper work she’d find a “t” uncrossed or a missing page of a triplicate – she was that kind of person / creature. Lacking my usual diplomatic reserve, I did on departure ‘complement’ the woman on her superior customer service and thanked her for her being so “overwhelmingly helpful” and I’m pleased to say I said it all without using one expletive and without referring to her talons, scales or the fire shooting from her snout.
So onward we go leaving for Exmouth Friday afternoon sans any duty free. We have a repaired sail, a fridge and freezer that works (fingers crossed) and a new life raft which we hope we never have to find out if it works, mounted and ready to go all storage checked and a weather forecast that we hope will provide a far more comfortable journey for the three of us for the next four to five days.
Detlef Bauer.