Brisbane to Airlie – Day 3-4

Arrived in Airlie, days ahead of time.

Waking at first light to a cacophony of birdsong must have once been a near universal experience. There’s a certain comfort to such an overt sign of life and community. In spite of a short and broken sleep I came to swiftly and started the day feeling rested.

I rejoined Tina for the two minute drive to the other side of Proserpine where we exchanged gifts and contact details then parted ways. Having made it so far so much quicker than expected I was at a bit of a loss as to what to do. Checking the relative size of Proserpine and Airlie I decided to stay another night to have the best chance at stocking up on plant-based groceries for the boat. As it turns out, options were limited in Proserpine.

I did however find a beautiful and well kept park, a true example of a commons to serve the community, with shower, change room, barbecues, shelters, playground, power outlets, thriving native gardens, artwork and historical monuments. I settled in, had my breakfast and discovered my toothbrush missing. Recalling I had brushed my teeth while laying in the dark at the other park, I figured I had left it behind.

Trusting my gear to the goodness of humanity, I took just my hat, phone and cash and trekked back across town to collect the toothbrush. Yes I was tempted to buy another, but I had just decided I had a surplus of time, so could hardly justify the waste for want of a little exercise. Sadly it wasn’t there, but in a different pocket of my bag… lesson 3 – check all the pockets, especially if packed in the dark!

I made the most of the facilities to freshen up, recharge and work on our YouTube channel and blog content. It’s been a good test of making do with just the phone for tasks that may be much quicker and easier on a computer, but I’m happy with the trade-off for now, given the weight difference. It’s also one less thing to worry about. For our bigger trip, the less we carry the more flexibility we will have in how we travel.

This became quite apparent after my grocery shopping. There was just one detailed instruction I was given by the skipper of the Sydney Sundancer. Each of the crew is to bring two precooked, frozen meals to serve everyone (5 – 8 people). Since I don’t have any way of cooking more than 1L at a time on my spirit stove and no way of freezing, I took a venture into shelf-stable pre-mix quick meals. My idea is to be able to put a meal together in the same time it would take to thaw and reheat one. This style of cooking is a novelty for me, as I normally scratch build and use dried rather than canned plant-based proteins to reduce cost and waste.

First trial was lunch of canned kidney beans, mushrooms, macaroni and pasta sauce. Part way through cooking I wondered what I would do with the excess. Then arrived Matt* in his mobility scooter. Suffering chronic illness that is slowly diminishing his mobility he had decided to go see a little more of the world while he still had some mobility. He had been caught out without cash thanks to an unexpected delay in the international transaction. The caravan park had let him stay on an unpowered site until his money arrived, but he was at the park to charge his scooter. He told me about his attempts to get some food through the big name charity services in town. Apparently this requires a referral from Centrelink (Australia’s government welfare agency). To get that referral you must first be receiving welfare payments, which requires another set of tests of circumstances, so he was out of luck. The independent food bank outside of town at least offered him fruit, which in my experience is often on its last legs, but better than nothing. In any case he was grateful for a bowl of pasta and I didn’t have to worry about the excess.

I learned a bit more about Matt’s recent history, which included a visit to his Australian daughter, struggling with mental health after a rough separation from her partner. Matt was at a loss with how to support her while dealing with his own challenges. Sadly this experience of overwhelm and distance is an all too common experience, with families split by physical distance becoming emotionally distant too. This is the two edged sword of our ease of mobility, globalization and individualism.

As I parted with Matt and evening came around I scoped out a discreet and darker corner of the park and caught up with Emelie and Dani via phone. My time away has also come at a cost, with Adam sick in bed now for two weeks, Emelie doing double duty and Dani doing something different with different people every day after school. I feel guilty for not being there, especially to help with Adam, but at the same time hopeful that in the longer term this trip and the ones that follow inspire more people and drive a net benefit.

As I settled in a heard a lock being engaged and soon after a frail cry for help. Imagining that someone may have accidentally been shut in the change room I went to investigate. At the table on the other side, I found an elderly gentleman dividing up a substantial pile of fine herbaceous matter. Two charismatic youths were perched on the table opposite, beers in hand, watching the proceedings. They assured me they were just clowning around and all was well and invited me to join them to pass time. Not quite sure of the authenticity of their assurances, I nevertheless declined and made to retreat. They cautioned me about sleeping on the grass. The sprinklers apparently come on at 3am. I wondered at their intuition, thanked them for their advice and slunk off, somewhat ashamed I didn’t have the courage to stick around and socialize.

With an alarm set for 2:50 I bedded down only to be woken by water falling on me at 1:30. Not from sprinklers, but the sky. Fortunately the playground offered a slightly drier alternative and I got to practice hiding my face in my beanie to escape the light.

The cleaner setting down his bucket at 5am got me quickly upright. While I believe everyone should have free access to basic needs including shelter, I also recognize there are pre-conceived notions of nature of anyone sleeping rough. Speaking from my experience as the witness, I can relate to feelings of fear, guilt and projected shame. This seems a true example of an outcast and our natural inclination is of repugnance. While such a response may have served primitive humans well it is dangerous in a globalized society as I discussed in the tribalism post.

Wanting to put the cleaner at ease I joked about his early start as I packed away my things, but was met with just a grunt. Undeterred I kept out of his way but when I saw him collecting recyclables out of the waste bins I went ahead to one he hadn’t yet reached and sorted it for him. Passing them to him with a “there you go” got me another grunt and averted eyes. Once again retreating I waited until he came by the tables. He was clearly proud of his work thoroughly spraying and wiping them down. I thanked him for doing such a great job and joked that in contrast to this beauty some parks appeared to have had no attention in ten years. At last I got some eye contact, a chuckle and several complete words. After a brief but warm exchange, he offered me some tips on where I could catch a lift, we wished each other well and he headed off.

After a trip to the chemist for anti-nausea meds, which I’m told are essential for a novice sailor, I packed for the road. With my sign on my back I expected to head out to the main road to find a good spot, but I had taken just two steps out of the park and Nat* pulled up.

A local for 73 years, Nat had spent some time in the coal mines on good money and retired at 51. Having always lived simply and bought his toys (cars, caravan and boat) second hand he had been enjoying camping around the country. A recent diagnosis of black-lung and subsequent AUD800k compensation had changed his outlook somewhat. With potentially just months to live he was on his way to Airlie to sell his old caravan and get something nicer to go with his new ute and make one last good trip in a little more comfort. I’m glad he was able to spent so much time doing the things he loved, but it’s another reminder of how much work can really cost us.

Having found a decent-sized shopping centre enroute to Airlie I stocked up with more than enough food to cover my obligations on the Sundancer as well as additional plant-based ingredients for me if the other meals are animal heavy. It was with significant relief I learned another of the crew is vegetarian or vegan, so we now at least have a quorum for exception.

With the straps cutting into my fingers, I lugged my hoard out to the bus stop Nat had pointed me to. Seeing the next bus scheduled for more than half an hour later, I decided to try my luck again with my thumb on the main road and 2 minutes later I was away with Caleb*. An Irish dive instructor on one of the tourist boats out of Airlie, he gave me some contacts to speak with about hitching to Hamilton, where the Sundancer departs on Saturday.

As enthusiastic as his contacts were to help, these ultimately proved fruitless, however reaching out on the local FB sailing page netted me an option within the hour. I’ll be sailing the passage on Friday crewing another commercial tour vessel across ready for its Saturday charter. The skipper even invited me to stay aboard his boat Friday night. Now that’s community!

Having got my next leg sorted I snooped about the beachside facilities for somewhere to charge my phone and spare battery. While I didn’t have any luck there, I was met by a Zak. A warm and friendly fellow, he invited me for a free barbecue, volleyball game and kayak just a little along the beach.

As I learned over the next couple of hours, Zak was an incredible and inspiring example of community builder, servant to humanity and victim turned advocate. I will dedicate a future post to his story and the work he is doing.

After my peanut butter and salad sandwich by the barbecue and a couple of hours of volleyball, many of the players exchanged details and some of us made our way to the Fire twirling gathering at the end of the beach. Instruction and equipment was eagerly given to those keen to try while I caught up with my family with a phone call on the sideline.

Zak suggested I head for a particular quiet beach for the night, which I took him up on, after helping push start his van. Unfortunately midnight rain again offered the reality check of sleeping under the open sky and I slunk back to a brightly lit, but mostly dry bus shelter for the rest of the night.

*Names changed