Ride Melbourne to Canberra

“Apartments can rot good bikes and good blokes.” I had grown so comfortable during our week in the little unit in South Yarra that, for a moment, I felt I could quite happily have spent the rest of my days there. Simple tasks, like making a cup of tea, were a dream in the tiny kitchen and I found the comfort difficult to leave behind.

Camping beside the King River, Whitfield.

We were checked out by 9am but the thick Melbourne traffic seemed reluctant to let us go as we crawled along Toorak Road, clocking only five kilometres in one hour. Devil and Dwarf hated idling in the heavy traffic and Dwarf’s temperature gauge and Devil’s engine fan kept telling us “this can’t go on much longer.”

We started to relax once we made it to Healesville. We took a pit stop at the town’s bakery and then we gave the bikes a burn up the Black Spur all the way to Marysville. We took all day wandering through the roads and lanes and by happy hour we had arrived in the little town of Whitfield. We pitched our tent at the beautiful Gentle Annie Camping Reserve. For only $20 you can camp down by the river. It’s a great spot as long as you don’t mind the smell of fresh dog poo, deposited by the resident pooch, before you have finished your breakfast.

Beachworth.

The following morning we were on the road again as soon as the breakfast dishes were washed and put away. When we arrived at Beachworth we were pleased to find the town full of historic cars participating in a RACV rally. I am always delighted when I find a MKII Jaguar; these old cars bring back fond memories of the car my dad bought in 1968. I was in for a treat as there were several old Jags in the historic fleet.

It is easy to forget about the concept of remoteness when travelling in Victoria and no matter how hard we tried we couldn’t find fuel in Tangambalanga. When we finally fuelled up in Bonegilla, Steve poured 19 litres into Dwarf’s 20 litre tank. I gave Steve “the look,” nothing more was said.

Red Dwarf and Red Devil.

While we were drinking tea at the Hume Weir, a local dude, full of his own importance, wandered by for a chat. He had ridden thousands of miles on his 1980’s BMW motorcycle. When I said to Steve, “there you go, there are plenty of miles left in our bikes” he proceeded to put down the longevity of Devil and Dwarf (F650GS, R1200GS); you don’t make friends like that.

We trundled along the Murray Valley Highway and set up the big tent amongst the trees at a delightful caravan part in Colac Colac. We were exhausted from our week in Melbourne and when the weather settled in and rained all of the following day neither of us complained about taking it easy.

We were camped in The Man from Snowy River Country and the towns and villages in this neck of the woods embrace the wonderful story of Jack Riley. Jack Riley was the inspiration for Banjo Paterson’s famous poem. The spirit of Jack Riley seemed to be everywhere and on that rainy afternoon I wrote this little ditty.

I thought I saw The Man from Snowy River late one afternoon,

He appeared to me beneath the trees amidst the rain and gloom.

We were camped near Jack’s home of Tom Groggin, his grave site not too far away.

I guess he knew I was passing through and he came to say G’day.

As soon as the rain cleared we took Devil and Dwarf on a day ride through the hills in the upper Murray Valley region. We stopped for refreshments at the general store in Tintaldra. Our knowledgeable host made tea in a pot and kept us entertained with stories about stockmen and drovers from the distant past. We then rode on through the villages of Jingellic and Tumbarumba. These roads are so amazingly quiet, it’s a wonder they have been converted from gravel to bitumen.

Item number 16 on our “Things to do before I die” list reads “Climb Mt Kosciuszko.” When the weather became clear and calm we took our chance, moved our camp to Jindabyne, and climbed the mountain. Of course the navigator took us the long way around to Jindabyne and we passed by Cabramurra and Mt Selwyn; a signpost told us we were riding along at 1500 meters. In the cold mountain air, Adaminaby provided a great lunch stop and we were pleased to feast on hot chocolate and bacon and egg burgers in the warm and cosy cafe.

For our assault on Mt Kosciuszko we took the chair lift from Thredbo and then walked to the summit along the easy, well prepared 6.5km track. As we stood on top of Australia, and looked out across the Snowy Mountains, it seemed there was no way through, even though we had been riding in those mountains just the day before. If you get the chance, climb Mt Kosciuszko. I will carry the memory with me for the rest of my life.

The National Folk Festival, in Canberra, gave us somewhere to go and something to do for the Easter holiday. While I rode into the capital I felt so happy and inspired I wrote the chorus to a new song.

Before I make it home again I’ll ride the Snowy Mountain Highway,

And I’ll climb the highest mountain in this great and southern land.

And I’ll write about Jack Riley as I ride along the byway

Singing more about this country than I will ever understand.

Lake Jindabyne.

Australian Formula 1 Grand Prix – Melbourne 2013

Mark Webber.

For Formula 1 week we took up residence in a clean and tidy one bedroom apartment within walking distance of the Albert Park race circuit. One of our GP Advantage privileges promised us a pit walk at 9am on Thursday morning and we were waiting, with thousands of others, by 8:30am. For some reason the pit walk was delayed by half an hour, but Victorians are a patient bunch and everyone waited quietly and calmly in the queue. When the pit walkers finally arrived in pit lane the group stopped moving while hundreds of digital cameras snapped away. Even security, who kept barking “move along, move along,” seemed to have no impact on the large group of punters. At one stage it looked like they wouldn’t be able to clear pit lane in time for the first event at 10am. We stopped long enough to take some great photographs of the F1 pit garages. Many of the photographs were the same ones we had taken in 2009, however it was important to get the new and updated images.

There is plenty of on track activities but there is no racing on Thursday so it was a great day to enjoy some of the grand prix’s off track entertainment. We browsed through the merchandising stalls and noticed that Red Bull T shirts and caps were the most popular. Ferrari merchandising seems to be taking a back seat after the departure of Michael Schumacher.

Nitro Circus.

The FLAIR Moto Trials Show was very entertaining but it’s difficult to compete with the motorcycle and bicycle acrobatics of the Nitro Circus; those guys are truly insane. There seemed to be a lot more entertainment aimed at children and teenagers and I thought the age demographic was younger than it was in 2009.

On Friday the F1 cars took to the track for the first time and we were treated to three hours of F1 entertainment during the course of the day. Since 1985 I have always been a Mclaren fan. When Lewis Hamilton joined the Mclaren it seemed like a match made in heaven for both me and the team. Unfortunately Lewis is now driving for Mercedes and I missed him. First and foremost I always hope that Australians Mark Webber or Danny Ricciardo win, no matter who they drive for. If the Aussies can’t win Mclaren is my team.

Saturday Qualifying in the rain.

Rain stopped play after the first qualifying session on Saturday and we were thrilled with our undercover seating while we watched the high tech sport of Formula 1 use brooms to try and sweep the standing water off the track. Eventually race control rescheduled the second and third qualifying sessions until 11am on Sunday morning.

We couldn’t take our undercover seating home with us and we were drenched walking back to our unit in South Yarra. A hot shower, a plate of Peking Duck and a bottle of Red from a local Chinese restaurant and we were all smiles again.

Because of the rescheduling of qualifying, gates opened at 10:00 on race day Sunday. Luckily Steve remembered that GP Advantage ticket holders could enter the circuit from 8:30am on Sunday so we didn’t have to queue with the masses. With a quickly drying track the final two qualifying sessions were a nail biting experience. Eventually the two Red Bulls, Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber, took out the first row of the grid.

Front Row: Vettel and Webber.

Steve and I always choose our seats so they overlook pit straight as we find there is always something going on in pit lane or on the starting grid to keep us entertained. On Sunday we stayed in our seats for most of the day and enjoyed the support races which included V8 Supercars, Porsche Carrera Cup and International Sports Cars. Moto GP retiree, Casey Stoner certainly brought a touch of celebrity to the Ultimate Speed Comparison and I made sure I was in my seat each time this event was on track.

The Podium.

Sunday’s race is always full of drama and Mark Webber was the first victim, losing several places before the first corner. Kimi Raikkonen surprised everyone and took out the win using good tyre management; Kimi only made two pit stops instead of three. Ferrari’s Fernando Alonso came second and Sebastian Vettel, the current world champion, third. Mark Webber finished sixth and Danny Ricciardo retired in the late stages of the race. The fans were quickly on the track after the completion of the race so they could join in the celebrations on the podium. When the Premier of Victoria was introduced an audible booing came from the crowd. This happened again when Sebastian Vettel was awarded his third place trophy. I hope, in Sebastian’s case, the booing was delivered with a touch of humour as Aussie Mark Webber is his team mate.

We stayed a while, watching the celebrations and soaking up the last glimmer of this amazing event. The Melbourne F1 Grand Prix just keeps getting better and better and it felt like a pleasure and a privilege to be there in 2013.

Port Fairy Folk Festival

Southcombe Camping.

Steve and I were Port Fairy Folk Festival virgins and spent five nights camping on-site. We enjoyed the experience but probably won’t return unless some changes are made. Here are some of our likes and dislikes:

Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu.

Likes:

Line-up
It was a great line up. We enjoyed the headline acts of Tim Finn, Arlo Guthrie, Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu and Xavier Rudd. We also thoroughly enjoyed Eric Bogle, Chris Smither and Sara Lee Guthrie and her husband Johnny Irion.

Camping
The camping facilities were very good considering the number of people. We turned up one day early and were just in time to find a level tent site.

Arlo Guthrie.

Catering
There was a great variety of good quality, reasonably priced food at the festival village.

Dislikes:

Festival Chairs (low backed, fold up chairs)
It is a basic requirement of this festival to carry a festival chair as most of the venues don’t have chairs. Festival chairs are a nuisance to carry around and they take up a lot of room in the venues. The chairs also lead people to feel like they “own a space” in the audience. We bought two festival chairs after suffering abuse on Friday night for sitting in our high backed chairs (in the high backed chair zone); people who turned up after us had low backed chairs.

Hour long queue for main stage.

Pressure on the main venue
We were told that 15,000 tickets were sold. The main venue, where most of the headline acts were staged, holds about 4,000 people. Most of these headline acts only performed twice which meant that only half the people had a chance to see them. The program scheduling caused people to set up their festival chairs and remain in the same spot all day. We did the same on Saturday; we didn’t go back to our tent for dinner as we would lose our spot and we would have missed out on seeing Gurrumul. If you leave your chairs unattended for a toilet break, you may return to find they have been moved and you have no leg room at all!

Rushing to get a spot between acts, stage 2.

Programming
There was not enough simultaneous scheduling of the popular acts to spread the crowd. An example was the “Women in Voice” concert on Sunday morning. Hundreds sat outside the full house, just listening, because there was nowhere else they wanted to go.

Full House
We felt discouraged from attending the venues outside the festival village in case we arrived to find the “full house” sign on the door. We also spent the festival feeling tense, wondering whether we would find a place in the audience before the “full house” signs were displayed.

Outside Women in Voice concert, Sunday morning, stage 1.

Sound Spill
Even some of the performers mentioned playing in time with the thump, thump coming from the venue next door.

I finally found some leg room.

Port Fairy Shuffle
A process where the audience is continually asked to move the chairs closer together even when there is no room left at all.

Camping
The camp site portable toilets and showers were removed the day before checkout. Some consideration should be given to allocating powered camping sites by ballot.

FOLK festival?
 There were some folk acts but there were many bands presenting with a full drum kit and electric guitars. Surely this means Port Fairy is no longer a FOLK festival.

It looks like we were the last to leave,
but there were many other campers packing up at the same time.





Great Ocean Road

Red Dwarf (and Steve) at the start of the GOR.

Devil and Dwarf (F650GS and R1200GS) made a special request after the World Super Bike event came to an end, “Please take us for a run along the Great Ocean Road as we don’t know when you will bring us this way again.” How could we say “no” to our old faithful bikes, the ones that had carried us safely around the roads and lanes of this great land?

To avoid Melbourne’s highways and byways we took the easy way out and caught the ferry from Sorrento, on The Mornington Peninsular, to Queenscliff. We stopped for a pie at the award winning bakery in the little seaside town, and then we were off on one of Victoria’s busiest and scenically beautiful roads to ride along. The good thing about riding from east to west is most of the lay-bys are on your side of the road and it makes it easy to stop and marvel at the most spectacular coastal scenery.



I jumped on the back of Red Dwarf for this photo.

The distances are short but the travelling time is long on the Great Ocean Road and we enjoyed Apollo Bay for a few days before continuing on to Port Fairy.

The traffic thins out and the ride becomes more relaxing once you reach Lavers Hill. However it is a good idea to remain on permanent watch for locals, who seem to know every twist and turn in the road, pushing it along, sometimes on the wrong side of the road.

The Twelve Apostles.

We stopped at several vantage points to admire the Twelve Apostles. I thought some of the Apostles looked more weathered than I remembered from six years before. We know someone who remembers London Bridge before it “fell down.” It seems all the debris, after the collapse, had been washed away as there was no sign of it at all!

The Great Ocean Road heads inland after the Bay of Islands and seems to continue on for another 30 kilometres in name only. When we arrived at Port Fairy I thanked Devil and Dwarf for taking us on this ride. It would have been a shame not to ride the Great Ocean Road on our trip around Australia.

World Superbikes – Phillip Island 2013

By 10am on Friday, me, Steve, Red Devil (F650GS Twin) and our two king sized chairs were waiting at Gate 1 for a slice of the action. When we arrived the World Supersport riders were enjoying a free practice session. As soon as we found our first vantage point, at the braking zone for turn 1, we were off the bike and watching; awesome.

Tex & Bundy Charity Fundraisers at the Expo.

When you first arrive at the track it’s hard to know what to do because there seems to be so many options. After a cup of tea, and a gentle reminder that we had all weekend, we headed over to the Australian Motorcycle News (AMCN) Expo. I spent a long time pouring over the merchandising. In the end all I wanted was a stubby holder but when I found Steve he said “you already have a stubby holder” and that was the end of that. Steve liked the MV Augusta track bike, which for $8500 seemed incredibly cheap; I said “no” to that too.

The California Superbike School had a stand at the expo. Steve Brouggy runs the school and when I said “I always read Steve Brouggy’s articles in Two Wheels Magazine,” who should turn around but Steve himself. Steve willingly talked to us about motorcycle skills and techniques and we nearly booked in for two days tuition when the school meets at Queensland Raceway in June; maybe next time around.

Playing at being a media photographer.

After lunch we took advantage of our paddock passes and wandered up and down at the back of the pits. At that time, all the garage doors were down but we still managed to catch a glimpse of Carlos Checa and Marco Melandri. By the time Steve activated the camera they had both slipped behind closed doors.

As Phillip Island is the first World Superbike race of the year, there is always a little extra tension wondering who will be out performing whom. We watched the first qualifying session from the pit roof. It’s fun up there, looking down on the guys riding in and out of their garages. Michel Fabrizio, riding an Aprillia for Red Devils Roma, caught my eye. Fabrizio was the talk of the town on Friday night as he was top of the board when the first qualifying session was over.

Marco Melandri at MG corner.

On Saturday we were down at the track early enough to plonk our chairs in one of the plumb spots at MG, the slowest corner of the track. MG provides the best option if you want to see the bikes up close and personal. We are so lucky that Phillip Island Circuit still has low fences; long may this be so. It was a hot day, at one stage they were reporting a track temperature of 50 degrees. I kept wetting my shirt and that kept me comfortable for at least half an hour.

One of the wonderful things about the WSBK’s at Phillip Island is they allow the bikes to park inside the circuit. We left our lunch in Red Devil’s aluminium panniers and I was the one sent on the mission to retrieve it. Lying there, right beside by bike was an ignition key. There were plenty of bikers taking a breather in the shade but no one had lost their key. We placed the key on an old Akubra hat and laid the hat down in a prominent place. We all thought that if we had lost our key the first thing we would do is retrace our steps.

While I was collecting lunch there was a bit of banter going on between the bikers. One guy asked me “Are you going to upgrade the BMW when Volvo releases their motorcycle?” I just smiled. Surely this was a case of the pot calling the kettle black; this guy was riding a Suzuki V-Strom! When I found a wicked looking Husqvana motorcycle, I said “It could be handy to ride a bike that can sew a patch on your jacket too.” Luckily the owner didn’t hear me.

Superpole was good value and I think it made nearly everyone smile when old favourite Carlos Checa, riding his Ducati Panigale 1199R, took out pole position.

Race day action at Siberia.

On Sunday we sat ourselves high on the hill at Siberia. The day was hot and even Bass Strait failed to deliver a cooling breeze. We slow cooked in our denim jeans but at least we weren’t getting sunburnt. The atmosphere amongst the spectators at Siberia is great. The entire audience clapped for every rider at the conclusion of each race and when a local girl sang the National Anthem some dude called out “You F…… beauty;” everyone cheered.

The racing was spectacular with Aprillia taking out the entire podium in the first superbike race. Unfortunately, our man, Marco Melandri, was taken out of the race by pole sitter Carlos Checa. Race two was a little more democratic and although the Aprillia’s of Eugene Laverty and Sylvain Guintoli were first and second, we were delighted to see Marco Melandri, on his BMW S 1000RR, taking out third place.

On Monday morning, still high on our latest motor racing fix, we rode away from Phillip Island in a heavy sea mist. I noticed I had a lump in my throat and I felt certain that one day we’d be back for more.

Motorcycle Tasmania – South and West

We left the caravan park in Cambridge, Hobart, just in time to join the rush of cars trying to get their drivers to work on time. We detoured to the shopping centre, to restock the esky and the food box, while the traffic on the Tasman Bridge had time to clear.

Soon we were on our way, Dover bound. I wondered many times, while we walked the jetties at the Australian Wooden Boat Festival, “why are there so many boats in Hobart?” Then I laid eyes on the D’Entrecasteaux Channel and the reason became clear. This wonderful waterway, flanked by Bruny Island on the east, and the mainland on the west, is full of bays and beaches. The scenery was spectacular and as we rode south along the Channel Highway we had to remind ourselves about the importance of keeping our eyes on the road. Salmon farms do exist but not enough to spoil the view.

Mouth of the Huon River with
D’Entrecasteaux Channel and Bruny Island in the background.

We stopped for a cup-a-soup and a homemade ham sandwich at a lookout near Garden Island Creek. A shower of rain around the hills to the south kept us looking over our left shoulder. Steve picked blackberries and willingly shared them with me. At the visitor information centre in Hobart we asked, “Where should we stay Cygnet or Dover?” Without hesitation the guy said “Dover, there isn’t much going on in Cygnet.” Unfortunately we believed him and we rode on through the sophisticated little town, with its boutique wares and interesting port, before we realised we had missed something.

Although there wasn’t much happening in Dover, it was a true sanctuary away from the madding crowd and we took the opportunity to cook all our own meals and relax for a while.

This Huon Pine is 450 years old,
they live for up to 3,000 years.

We hopped on the tourist band wagon and paid $25 each to enjoy the Tahune Forest Airwalk. We learned a little more about the famous Huon Pine. On the huon trail we were introduced to a 450 year old tree. They call these trees the “old folk” of the forest. Apparently they only grow in the wettest areas of the state so I have stopped looking out for them on the hills and in the valleys as we ride along the many scenic roads.

A good day on the road is worth more than a good day at camp so when we saw that the weather looked clear we decided to ride for two days all the way from Dover to Ulverstone. The big tent was packed up and we were back on the road by 8am. We shopped at Huonville and then settled in for the ride through the city. Steve likes to take all the back roads and we had soon turned left and were winding our way along the lower slopes of Mt Wellington. This is one of those roads that probably should say “local traffic only,” but Tasmanians are kind to motorcycle riders and they allow you to ride everywhere. You have to settle in and ride at your own pace along these lanes because the consequence of trying to keep up with someone else doesn’t bare thinking about.

We have fallen in love with Tasmania’s Valhalla ice cream and it was no surprise that after lunch we were devouring a two scooper on the pavement in New Norfolk. Then we were back on the road again, trundling long the Lyell Highway. I don’t think there is a single straight road in Tasmania. Sometimes the corner speeds are indicated as a warning shot, but mostly you are left to your own devices regarding entry speeds. As I was riding along towards Tarraleah, it occurred to me that if you could get a giant rolling pin and iron out all of Tasmania’s hills and mountains, so that the apple isle was flat like Western Australia, I think the footprint would be quite large.

We pulled into Tarraleah late in the afternoon. There were two types of powered camp sites available. The grassy sites were covered in possum poop. I picked the poopless site, and Steve picked the grassy site, so we drew straws and Steve won. Next thing I know I’m down on my hands and knees picking up possum turds! Timing is everything and Steve happened to open the tent just as I swept up one of the drier pieces of poop. Unfortunately a gust of wind caught the dustpan and blew at least half a turd inside the tent. I’m still laughing about it now.



The ride from Tarraleah to Queenstown is simply stunning. The Red Devil and I looked after each other and the purr of her engine, as we wound our way along some of the steep mountain passes, was music to my ears. I only heard the word “crikey” once inside my helmet, now and again I heard myself cackling away; it’s just so much fun. On these roads you have to participate in the ride – constantly making decisions and changing up and down through the gears tires you out. I think four hours on the road here in Tasmania is more like riding for six hours on a conventional pavement.

The road into Queenstown (which you can see at the bottom of the valley).
Yes, the Red Devil and I are in the picture.

Except for the locals and the super talented bikers, I don’t think the steep descent into Queenstown could really be described as a great motorcycle road. It’s just about survival as you negotiate the change in elevation from high to low. Queenstown is a wonderful historic town and if you stop for a moment you can almost hear the clatter and chatter from the time when the town was living its heyday. I just hope the West Coast Wilderness Railway train to Strahan keeps running so the tourists keep turning up.

If you have the opportunity to ride Tasmania, include Anthony Road (B28) which runs from Henty Glacial Moraine in the south to Tullah in the north. On the day, as we rode on easy, admiring the breathtaking scenery that is part of the world heritage Cradle Mountain – Lake St Clair National Park, it occurred to me that this was probably the most beautiful road I had ever cruised along.

Steve wasn’t finished with the back roads yet and although we were enjoying a good lick of speed along the Murchison Highway, Steve soon found the B18 and then a couple of “C” roads. These roads slowed us down as we navigated our way through the farming communities of Upper Natone and South Riana.

We ended our “Ride Tasmania” in Ulverstone. While we were resting in our big camp chairs and musing over three weeks of wonderful riding, a bird flew past and pooped right on my foot. “That’s supposed to be lucky” said Steve, “perhaps we should buy a lottery ticket?” to which I replied “perhaps we have been lucky enough!”

Australian Wooden Boat Festival 2013

You don’t have to be a wooden boat enthusiast to enjoy the Australian Wooden Boat Festival. The Tasmanian government have seen the wood through the trees and cleverly made the festival a free event. This concept lifts the attendance levels and gives the festival a wonderful atmosphere.

Couta boat in the pavilion.

There were over 600 boats on display and the festival is a true celebration of both new and old wooden boats. Boats of a similar design are displayed together, this makes it easy to wander the jetties and pavilions and enjoy the eclectic mix of vessels on display. Each vessel has an information board which tells you her name, designer, year launched and the construction material. I’m particularly in love with Huon Pine and vessels built out of this material received a big tick from me. I couldn’t help spare a thought for the large number of boats that remained on the waiting list and couldn’t exhibit at the festival; there was simply no more room.

Landfall and Sirocco.

The festival is a four day event. When we arrived and saw the boats and the display pavilions before us I said to Steve “where do we start?” We wandered along the jetties of the Kings Pier Marina and Constitution Dock and it was a little overwhelming to gaze upon the selection of wooden boats. Landfall (1935) and Sirocco (1939), two historic Sparkman and Stephens design yachts, nearly brought tears to my eyes they looked so grand. These boats are lovely to look at, but it sends a shiver down my spine when I imagine the hours of work that are spent to keep them in such immaculate condition.

I was thrilled to catch up with Cartella; this old ferry is now a centenarian. I remember being onboard her in 1975 after the Tasman Bridge collapsed. Cartella helped move commuters back and forth across the Derwent River.



Cartella

I particularly enjoyed the colourful display of Fazackerley Dinghies. It is estimated that Reg Fazackerley built over 100 of these dinghies and about 40 of them are known to be in existence because of the quality of their build and their collectability. One of the defining characteristics of the clinker Fazackerley dinghies is there are no ribs forward of the front seat.

The owners of Notorious, a full size replica of a 15^th century Portuguese caravel (the type of ship that carried the early European explores to the Far East), were enterprising with their fund raising and for $5 you could climb aboard and take a look around. However the replica Viking ship Russich which had sailed all the way from Russia, had only a donation box on the dock and would have collected only a fraction of the amount.

We noticed that Sea Shepherd was also in port. Sea Shepherd belongs to Sea Shepherd Conservation Society (SSCS) which is a marine wildlife conservation organisation. Looking down at her from the dock Sea Shepherd has a mighty presence. A film crew were conducting an interview with Bob Brown (former Australian Greens leader). Bob is now actively involved with Sea Shepherd activities and he looked much younger and fitter than he looks on TV. I over heard him say “I am 67 years old.”

Over the four festival days we wandered along the jetties and through the exhibition halls and learnt about model boats, wooden canoes and boat building. Everywhere we went there was an unpretentious volunteer ready and willing to answer all of our questions. Whenever we needed to rest for a while it was easy to find somewhere to sit down and something delicious to eat. From Persian fair to a good Tasmanian scallop pie, everyone’s taste was catered for.

There was a good mix of talks and presentations to choose from and we particularly enjoyed Lynn and Larry Pardey’s presentation on storm tactics – how to hove to. Lynn is an expert presenter and she gained our full attention. I learned so much from her presentation.

The AWBF is a great place to hang out and we turned up every day. At times you would find us in the Wooden Boat Tavern listening to folk music and at other times we’d be in the pavilions again learning a little more about wooden boats.

In 1975, when I was just a child living in Hobart, my dad started to build a Hartley 17ft cabin cruiser. I can see him now using a hand saw to cut the ribs out of King Billy Pine. After attending the festival, dad’s boat project means so much more.

The festival was far and beyond any expectations we may have had. It is estimated that over 200,000 people attended the four day event which must have put a smile on the faces of the entire organising committee. I will never forget the sight of hundreds of dressed ships in the harbour and when the curtain finally closed on the 2013 Australian Wooden Boat Festival, I felt certain that one day the festival would lure us back to Hobart again.