Manly

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[youtube=DMi-5trIm5I]

I’m sitting here right now around two tables pushed together outside in back of the house. I’m on the computer while other people are star-gazing and sharing insights about the earth and its place in the universe. Another is eating dinner, another just letting it all in while no one can escape the chill tunes on the iTunes speakers. Bella’s singing along and I’m wishing I knew the words. Words are a matter of speech around here. Everyone has an English accent except for me, but they’re all fascinated in my ability to cross speaking patterns between American, British and Aussie in a matter of small time. Stories of horseback riding through outer Mongolia, dining with the head of the Thai mafia and 18 year olds falling in love with 38 year olds surround this table. There’s also the upper L couch that attracts the faint hearted and sunburnt. Unfortunately for the slumberers, the “DOH” of the Simpsons and other exclamations made by American TV actors is ignited before 9 in the morning.
Tomorrow, I’ll have been here for a week, and the “Dingoes”, as the Dinghy Instructees have lovingly been dubbed, have only had two days of courses and those have been spent on a 40-foot yacht in Middle and Sydney Harbor. The second of those two days, we anchored directly across from the Sydney Opera House and the Harbor bridge in a little cove by the Toroonga Zoo about 2 minutes from little beaches whose only access was by swimmer, flat bottomed motor boat or row boat. Swim we did, knowing our 2.5 meter keel would be no match for the sandy and rocky bottom of the harbor. My first trip across I apparently got nipped by one of the rocks and was dragging a trail of my DNA back to the yacht and then for another round trip when the other girls decided to brave the little harmless jellyfish that could care less of our whereabouts.
The skipper let me do about 60% of the steering, which came out to about 2 hours behind the wheel. I also was the first one to jump around to the front of the boat in 20 knot winds while sailing on our ear to fix a halyard, reefing line or jib recoiler. Minus a little slip, which I now know not to do, I docked the yacht after the second day. I’m turning into a bit of a leader, which I guess is natural given the 4 years older, 9 more years of sailing experience thing, but if their alright with it, then I am as well.
The instructors are all blonde eyed and bushy sailed. I want to have their job and perhaps after taking two courses with them, I’ll have a bit of a resume booster with them. I want to make a good impression on them. It looks like their job includes teaching and coaching to all levels of experience, shuttling people from accommodation to the yacht club, organizing parties and dinners for all the students, going to said events, racing on the weekends and a tiny bit of office work. They teach their sport, other sports, meteorology, safety boats, and motorboats: the works. They all appear to be good pals and work easily together mixing up what they are doing on any given day. According to Rick, the only American instructor, they’re always looking for more employees. It is so helpful being exposed to so many programs that revolve around water sports to gather what I like and dislike about situations so I know where I’ll be happy in the upcoming years.

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Photos

Aloha
Surf Shop where Jay used to work

John!
our instructor, John