Sitting on the couch, watching Brad and Sandra flirting on the late news and I get a news flash of my own; a blood curdling scream with follow up screams and no ad break.
Like a salmon I rise from the couch and head down the hallway with all engines full ahead. Rachel goes past the end of the hall, on her way to the bathroom where she gets into the shower fully clothed and turns the cold up full.
While trying to do up the lid on a hot water bottle she half dropped the bottle, pressing it against her pregnant belly, and emptying some of the boiling contents all over her belly and chest.
At once I see this is bad. There's skin hanging loose and its red and angry. Rachel can take pain like I can take beers, but appears to be in serious pain. I do what any sensible person does faced with such a situation, I call an Ambulance and talk faster than a horse racer caller on crystal meth.
I finally get it all across to them, the MICA arrives ten minutes later, I pack a bag of entirely inappropriate and "mere male" fodder clothes* and Rachel goes of to Cabrini, with me in the car 10 minutes behind.
Of course it turns out ok. Pain reduces, a smile returns, no long term scars, baby is fine, I am wrecked. We get home, cuddle each other and our baby and sleep comes like many drugs.
I go into 3AW this morning and foolishly chose a controversial topic and get fired up and call a listener an idiot for the first time ever.
* the clothes I packed were as follows: One non maternity bra that does not fit, a sports bra, one g-string, one pair of useful undies, one pair of trakkie daks, one pair of slippers two of my t-shirts as "she'll want something loose fitting"
I am loving the Failblog. Tales of failure always warm the evil heart.
Now for my own submission.
Last year, I hosted - at Atomic Media- a Halo 3 fight night. It went very well UNTIL an evil Brazilian drink known as Cachaça came out to kill all assembled.
Loving the new Speed Triple 1050, a real goer and a definite improvement over my sad, old 955 version . This is not a review as I have to get some things done, however you can view the data track here 3-feb-08.zip
Oh lordy that was good. Steady southerly, The Don, The Tone, Benny D, Rocket Roddie and a few others.
After the triumph that was Sandy Point, I had my dander up somewhat and was starting to believe that 37.5 knots on flat water might translate to 30+ on the bay.
WRONG!
Though we did not get the wind strength like Sandy Point- 25k tops today vs. 35k at the Point, it was still strong enough. Heading off the wind beyond 120 degrees and the sail died in your arms like a war buddy (yes that was an appalling metaphor). Another 5-10 knots would have helped to boost speeds above 30, but would have made going upwind, messing about, jumping and whatnot a right nightmare. That's speed sailing for you though- tread softly and carry a big stick.
I don't call it cheating to go upwind and then bare away onto 120 degrees just to get a bigger top speed. In this case 27.9 knots or 51.67 km/h or if you like 32.1mph
Also I got 37.5 knots on my 9 year old Torquay freeride 272. With a wavesail. That's gotta be a some kinda record...?
See the GPS data track in Google earth here. I think with a speey fin, a wet n' dry and maybe a race sail I could actually get 40 knots out of the old girl.
This blog post was started back in the earliest days of Rachel's pregnancy, but as we needed to make it to at least 12 weeks before we made any announcement, I decided to keep this as a a draft until it was time.
Monday 19th November.
Rachel had some interesting news this morning. She has a faint, but likely positive pregnancy test. She read the instructions and thinks she may not have done it right.
As I know nothing of these tests, I assume it's false. Their accuracy is unknown to me. (99.9%)
Tuesday 20th November Well little one, seems you really are there and I really am to become a father. WOW!
Two tests, done properly and two strong positives. Holy crap. I'm not freaking out, I am just excited. Your mother is going to be pissed- she wanted to have a few drinks all over Xmas and her 30th birthday promises to be a quiet affair. I think she's cool with it on balance.
...of course she's not really cross- she's all a glow. I get her to come in and meet me and I took this picture. Now might be a good time to mention that I am a sentimental softie at heart and I cried a little with happiness. Your mother laughed at me. You'll discover that she does that a lot. See how happy we are? Your mother is but 5 weeks pregnant at this time. You are the size of a pea, about the same size as your father's brain.
Regarding the photo, don't freak out about the mo'. It was NOT the fashion at the time, it's just I was raising funds for Movember- a charity aimed at (amongst other things) eradicating the cancer that took your grand dad. Don't sweat about not meeting him BTW- he's just like your dad, only older.
Friday 13 November Today your mum went to the doctor's for the first time. He took some blood, lectured your mother about her drinking (I made that part up) and told her that the results won't be back 'til next Wednesday, but three positive pregnancy tests from two different brands is good enough for him. He tells your mum congratulations and she calls me straight away. I suppress the urge to have a another cry as I have eight months of occasional cries ahead of me and I think I might try pacing myself. For once.
She sent me the following text:
no fish more than once a fortnight!!!!, no soft cheese, no sushi, no cold cut meats...no drinking...my baby is going to starve!!!
You won't starve, I promise. By that I mean I won't personally find food for her, but rather I know your mother well enough to know she will find food- and lots of it.
So after leaving to doctors your mum freaked out and went straight to the shops for some retail therapy..she did manage to buy a book "What to expect when you are expecting"
But mostly she bought clothes for herself... while she could still fit into them.
We have decided to tell the family at Christmas, and announce to the world in January sometime. You will only be 11 weeks at Christmas, but your Aunt and Uncle will be here and this will raise the roof!
As is the family tradition, we have given you a pregnancy name. We have a budgie called Wudge and you are called Budge. Don't panic, it won't stick. You will get your own name in good time, and I will find a stupid variation on that name to call you. It's what I do.
Oh and for the first time your mother used you as an excuse today. She wanted a new toothpaste tube as the old one was almost empty. She said "The baby wants me to have a new tube"
7.5 loooong months to go.
Monday 26 November We had a very relaxed weekend and talked about our plans for the future. Your mother will stop work in June and take 6 months maternity leave, so guess who has to work like mad?
Yo, Daddy does.
Your mother is ready from the pregnancy book, usually just highlighting bits like "your partner should do half the work" and "If the father gives up alcohol as well, it will make the journey easier". Well that's crap, how will I cope with Mrs Crazy Hormones huh? So now, as soon as I hear another quote coming from that damnable book, I switch off and play Xbox. I might also add your mother has latched onto a quote that says "even when inactive, just being pregnant is the equivalent of mountain climbing every day" She has taken this as as fact and now has a nap. When I ask her about this nap she is using you as an excuse "the baby wants me to have a nap". Hell, *I* want her to have a nap, it stops the quotes from the baby book coming thick n fast. All this aside, we are very happy and very much looking forward to your arrival. I was waaay cluckier than your mother, but the flood of hormones has sent her past me in a big way. It should be quite wonderful, but weird.
Friday 13th December Yes little one, it has been a few weeks since an update so let's do that quickly:
You have given your mother morning sickness. Not vomit-y bad, but "I iz siiick" bad. Cure: Vegemite toast made by Dad at 7am. This must be buttered and "vegemited" while it is still hot or all hell breaks out.
You had your first photoshoot this morning. It was entertaining as your mother had to be up at 6 am for wee, followed by the consuming of a litre of water. She was hell busting when we got to the ultrasound place. I enjoyed it no end, nearly another cry, but I saved it as I wanted to enjoy the moment. The moment I wanted to enjoy was the look on your mother's face as she tried not to wee while the ultrasound was being run over her stomach. Yes, we have a strange relationship.
We saw your heart beating. Mine jumped. It was sublime.
We told your maternal Grandmother. 5 minutes of squealing noises ensued.
We're telling my family tonight. They will act excited I am sure.
Right so there's that done. We've locked in all other details: you have an obstetrician, hospital (frankly I am looking forward to the double bed and pay TV more than I ought) and we even looked at baby capsules and related. I want a Formula 1 style baby car seat, but apparently you have to be able to hold your head up and stuff before you can go in one. Your mum is looking out for you on this score junior.
I'm very excited still. Let's see how long that lasts...
One Christmas, Santa brought me the Evel doll and motorbike, complete with jump ramps.
The bike had a rip cord AND gyroscopes inside it so it could wheelie like a real bike.
I loved that thing so much. Years later, Mum told me Dad and a friend of his were playing in the hallway (probably half cut) with Evel on Christmas eve. It was that cool a toy.
With Adrian Rowe in tow, we went up to the Toolangi state forest for a visit to the testing site for the Rally Of Melbourne where Neil Bates took me for a wild ride in his Toyota Corolla S2000 class rally car. I have been in cars with several race drivers and I have never, ever seen a driver as busy as a rally driver. Sawing the wheel back and forth like Mr Miyagi's "wax on wax off" scene and more toe tapping than a blues gig, it's a busy office for the rally folk.
I would hasten to add, that until you experience travelling through the bush at warp factor ludicrous... well maybe you haven't lived.
Craig Spottiswood has really given speed sailing a shake- he's always been fast; now we have the numbers 43 knots + (81 km/h) See him smoking at Sandy:
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The Community Cup was on Sunday- great to see my 'dogs getting up. Form, players and weather conditions are no guide to who/what will win. The winner on the day is never football, but definitely the Sacred Heart mission.
In the week prior to the F1 Grand Prix, I was out at Sandown for the Neil Mitchell show- turning a few laps on air aboard a BMW K1200R:
It was part of the promos for the celebrity race. They were in BMW 120i's and I was on a 200 kilo bike with more horsepower...
The big K1200R hit a cosy 240km/h down the straight. I was under strict orders NOT to crash (of course just as well I was told NOT to crash- coz I just LOVE to chuck it down the road...) so 15km/h extra went begging. Neil was a little concerned... but it was GREAT radio. The audio from the day is a bit fuzzy- but that's how it happened.
We're about to set sail and lose our wireless access (sob!).
Here's a pic of last nights feast: There's a mix of: prawns, oysters (natural, mornay and kilpatrick), Moreton Bay bugs, scallops, salmon, chips and salad.
No we didn't finish it.
It looked like rain this morning. My First Mate dressed for the occasion:
Yesterday was the most leisurely day of all. We left Turtle Bay at about 8:45 and motor sailed around Hamilton Island. We moored opposite the entrance while I did y regular segment (albeit reduced in time) with Neil Mitchell back in Melbourne. Rachel filmed me while I was on air, so that should make for some intersting viewing.
Car segment done, we radioed Hamilton Harbour for instructions and permission to come in. They gave us our location (booked earlier in the week by Yacht charter people) and we motored on in. We prepped the boat with bumpers and tie up ropes and thanks to my years of sailing Dad's triler sailor, I managed to bring us alongside without a drama. We'd have loved to see the Bloody Mary crew come in, but I think they'd run old BM up the harbour wall before making their grand entrance. Once tied up, Rachel verily RAN to the "proper shower" I think that a hand held shower on the transom (the little platform at the back) is more than acceptable.
It would seem not.
I had my shower and nodded to a bloke who proceeded to tell me that the shower block "must be floating" as it was moving under him. I indicated that we were most certainly on dry land. He seem unconvinced. Perhaps he was from ol' BM...
We abused facilities on Hamilton like Carl Vickers with a power cord and a flat battery (old in joke). I might add it was our right, but we did spend an inordinate amount of time around the pool, in the pool and at the pool bar.
We followed this with another shower and prepped for dinner. To say dinner was spectacular would be to understate the awesomeness of theis feast. Pics o foolw later...
4:00am after wedding day. We arrive home after OWNING the dancelfoor at Veludo's for hours on end. I threw my credit card behind the bar and bought drinks for anyone and everyone. Great! Honeymoon- Day one After the stress and time-compressing madness of wedding week, we found ourselves in the same way post-wedding day as we were due at the airport early and were supposed to meet most of our various families at the Beach House in Elwood on Saturday for breakfast.
Thankfully we'd both packed our clothes and items for the trip a few days earlier.
My windsurfing kit was in a sad way- some at Donny's, some still at mine, and packing would take a while. Some of our wedding presents were in Mike and Alison's car, so there was much to sort out in a short time.
I woke Don, Mike and anyone else I needed. All assembled at our house. Donny and I whacked it all together and we went back to the reception place to clean up and clear out. Breakfast had to be done n' dusted in just a few minutes. We then went to load the windsurfing kit onto Rachel's car using wrap racks- these are almost roof rackes, but the gear was going to collapse the roof, so Kat and Carl jumped into Carl's van Morriss (as in Van Morrisson) and they took the kit, we took ourselves.
Mad dash to the airport ensued- complete with stop off for video camera and inverter for 12v-240v (hence I am writing this from the boat using my charged up lap top). My darling wife and mother-in-law felt the best way to spend the trip was to talk about how late we were going to be and with my gear it would be extra stressful.
I am very happy to report that nothing like they predicted occured. No on wanted to fly out of Melbourne on Saturday lunch and we were 45 minutes early checking in.
We flew Melb-Syd, Syd-Proserpine. The Virgin Blue flight attandent asked us about our holidays and I told her it was for our honeymoon. A few minutes later another flight attendant came down and gave the couple behind us a free drink "with the compliments of Virgin Blue". I knew it was for us, but I wasn't about to speak up. Virgin may have the prettiest flight attendants, but perhaps not the smartest.
We arrived in Airlie Beach via the bus (gear in the hallway!) and were shown to our 32' Catlina named "Beach House". Irony? Perhaps. We managed, despite growing exhaustion, to go shopping, run around getting various things, and get fed and watered. I bought some alcohol- (cask red, slab beer, 6 ltrs of Tonic Water, 8 Bacardi Breezers). This added neatly to our bottle of gin, 2 bottles of pinot noir and bottle of chardonnay. It's a fair mix.
Slept fitfully as it was (and is) hot n humid. Up early for our briefing from 8:30, then picked up our diving gear and headed out to sea with Craig from teh chrter company. I kept (for me) quiet) while Rachel learnt 10 years worth of sailing in an hour. She was clearly overwhelemed, but I assured her I'd keep it simple once we got going. Craig wished us well and took off in his rubber duck. We tacked about for a bot of practice and then set all possible sail for Nara Inlet. Rachel got a touch of sea sickness and "did a Rachel"- went to sleep. I sailed the boat to Nara Inlet and we arrived just after 4pm. Rachel having a steer before the ravages of sea-sickness sent her to sleep. My Dad always told me that giving someone a steer normally prevents seas-sickness. What can I say, my Bride ain't normal...
Once anchored, we jumped in our duck and went to see some Aboriginal caves further up the inlet. It was so hot n' humid that once we'd seen the caves, we sped home for a swim and a rinse off under the shower. Beautiful sunset followed (short twighlight up here). I got carried away and rang about five people to gloat/pass on information and after all of this excitement, we crashed out about 9pm.
The wind looks like it will persist from the North and get stronger today. We are effectively going to circumnavigate Hook Island and hide behind Border Island so I can get a windsurf. We'll then go and hide in the inlet parallel to the one we're in at present...
This is what true happiness looks like. I wish it on everyone.
About now my old man would be not spinning in his grave, but rather cursing his luck for being there and not getting to chew my EAR off about my honeymoon plans:
We've chartered a yacht for seven glorious days in the Whitsundays. Dad would be three kinds of green to know that we have a 32" Catalina with the following features:
"Whisper" 32 Catalina This yacht is very spacious with excellent sailing capabilities. Ideal for groups up to 4 with 2 double cabins, one bathroom, dodger & bimini. Well suited to extended charters with well appointed interior design & efficient refrigeration.
Were he alive, he would be "dropping by as I was in the area" with charts and GPS plot points. He would tell Rachel everything about sailing and look to trick her into doing a course ("The hiring people require it") just as he tricked (read: insisted) Mum do a course in 1980-odd so we could hire a yacht in the Gippsland Lakes Mum's still not ready to forgive Dad for sending her on this course, and he's 8 years in the grave.
My Rachel has no sailing legs to speak of, so it may in fact turn out to be the worst honeymoon ever if she has sea sickness the whole time. I'm going to place a bet with "yes" Or at least "a lot of the time". Not to worry, I'll dose her up on sea sickness tablets, just like I'll dose her up on valium to actually go through with the madness that is marrying me.
I'll also be taking up some windsurfing kit and a whale harpoon set for fun and profit.
As an added bonus, we've invited my brother Stephen and his new-ish bride Sarah to join us for the last few days of the charter. It'll be a great chance to catch up in a relaxing environment and then of course revive the spirit of my old man by going out in a stiff gale with every piece of rag possible up and sail close hauled, heeling over to all buggery, with women screaming at us to cut it out.
