Homo sapiens encounters

This image will make sense as you read on - it is genuinely me in this photo at my desk at work - I mean, I take it as a compliment to the shoe makers (if you don’t identify that you have put two different types of shoes on then despite being an idiot, you know what comfortable shoes are).

Captains Log - 0007/ 31st of March 2024 / 0530hrs

Our species has some traits that are somewhat questionable. I have a routine most mornings that sees me enter the world of mass media to review what stupid things we may have done during the last twenty four hours. These days there seems to be no shortage of events that proves that we are still unable to tie our shoe laces to the correct shoe and therefore find ourselves tripping over our own feet every couple of steps. Outside of the mass media madness machine however, every day I come across some homo sapiens that bring a smile to my face. A strong dose of ocean air and lack of traffic lights would appear to be the cure for shoelaceitis.

I quite like driving into “town” (St Helens). It is only a seven minute commute and not withstanding the occasional “this does not appear to be a freeway” 30KM mainland number plate driver, the drive is beautiful. Leaving our driveway (which is longer than some streets I know) we hit the dirt road that leads to Binalong Bay road to St Helens. Meandering through forests, past Georges Bay with marine birds always chilling on the calm waters, you enter St Helens.

Like most small towns, it doesn’t take long for those that choose to trade for currency for goods to identify that you are a regular and you become first name friends. The Providore in St Helens is an oasis of a m a z i n g food and I know the delivery dates of the best bits now so the timing of visits coincide with the lamb cutlets, skin on chicken thighs or Manu bread arrivals. The inspiration for the “macadamia nut cookies” came from here and the person who makes them at The Providore has been made aware of my lack of purchases of this product in favor of making them myself. It has created a narrative and perhaps a mini war of the cookie makers with updates to my progress verses the secret of her perfect creations (not) being shared - I am determined to win this quest.

The other day, whilst settling the totals with my magic plastic card, a gentleman was at the counter beside me and asked “perfect cookie maker” if she would be interested in some chilis as he had an abundance of them in his garden and they would go to waste if not used. Lyndsey (real name) seemed quite concerned that these chilis would wither on the plant and wanted to give these away so that they were used. As “soon to be the second best cookie maker” went out the back to ask the resident chef if he needed them, I casually proclaimed “I would take them if they didn’t want them”. After some small talk Lyndsey determined that the chilis would be better suited to me and advised “no where near as good as mine cookie maker” that he had found an alternative home for his chilis.

I followed Lyndsey in his old Aldi (in my old Volvo) to his home. We had to park a hundred meters down the street as the electric folk were replacing a pole (whilst walking past the huge operation in pole replacement I saw the old pole on a truck and asked one of the helmeted safety folk if they needed to get rid of the old pole they could drop it at my place - he asked where I lived and genuinely seemed disappointed that it was a little out of the way - note to self, monitor pole replacements for old poles….useful for garden netting structures). We arrived at Lydnesy’s home where the first thing I saw was an easel with an oil being created in his kitchen. We spent an hour going through his creations with a good portion of time discussing our mutual dislike of noses when creating art. He cut a passionfruit from his next door neighbors (best passionfruit on the planet) as well as a red (on the outside and the inside) apple which I happily munched down. We then went outside and picked three bags of different chilies whilst eating some cheery tomatoes off the vine as we picked. We shook hands and I know we will catch up again at some random point. Excellent human, great moment, everything now has chili in it.

Macadamia nut and chocolate shortbread cookie with optional chilis

When I first moved from the Blue Mountains to Tasmania I had absolutely no concept that there was “another island” in Australia. I was a typical inward focused eighteen year old that had other things more important to consider (legal age for drinking, rugby, girls, guitar etc). So when my parents said you can stay here or come to Tasmania with us the decision was probably a grunt and a nod with the basic teenager instinct of “free food” being the driver. Landing in Tasmania via the Princess (the name of the ferry) after crossing the moat, we drove to Pipers River to my parents fifty acre farm. The original city slicker moment for me - waaaaay out of my comfort zone. I didn’t know a soul other than my DNA and recognizing my isolation my mother recommended to me to join “Piper’s River Rural Youth”. Which I did. Rocked up in my denim jacket to the pub and immediately felt completely out of place. But the folk there welcomed me with open arms and I am proud to call all of these people life long friends.

I had heard on the grape vine that “Stuart” had moved to Binalong Bay some time ago, so after a couple of text messages to some folk of that era I obtained his “number” and dropped him a line. The following Sunday Stuart and Christie popped around for a glass of wine and some cheese on the deck. That planned couple of hours ended at midnight with empty bottles of fine wines and ale cans contributing to our recycling. Many stories of the past came back coupled with the Eagles playing in the background to compliment the time capsule of youth being opened amongst friends. Laughter at the time we drove from Lilydale to St Helens with a carton of beer in the “ole blue bus” - I cannot remember what make the car was, but it had two bench seats. On that particular trip Stuart and I determined that it was cold in the back seat and his sister that was driving at the time wouldn’t turn the heater on. We thought it would be a good idea to start a fire out of the empty carton of beer on the back seat. It was a good idea at the time and after the flames were put out there wasn’t any complaints about turning the heater on. Oh stop shaking your head, we have all done stupid things and the positive is that we are here to tell the tale (a true shoelace moment that one). A great night of laughter and memories that I am sure will be repeated many times now that we are coastal neighbors. Ask Stuart about his Great White Shark moment if you run across him - it puts the fire in the back seat into perspective of “I survived that moment”

One of the joys of having accommodation here at The Ship is meeting new people. Our recent guest were travelers from our Island (from the West Coast) so we were excited to have a “Tasmanian” perspective on our digs. The couple that stayed were on a mission to seek out unique Tasmanian products for a shop they are planning on opening in Sheffield one day and focused they were on their mission.

The medium of communication through Air BNB is “via their platform” messaging and whilst unusual to me in such that I prefer face to face, the process is quite efficient and leaves no doubt to the needs of our guests. I received a message through the “app” that they had booked a meal at the French restaurant in St Helens and did we know of Uber or Taxi services in our area. No idea, but we offered the “old Volvo chauffeur service” and Debi took the guests into and back from their meal (whilst I googled the French restaurant and made a booking for ourselves). Knowing they wanted “to kick on” after their meal I shot downstairs and lit the smokeless fire pit and put a bottle or Priory Sav Blanc on the wine barrel with some glasses for their arrival (under the Endeavour chandelier - see last log entry). After a bit I wandered down to say hello and introduced myself. We had a little chat and discussed their and our journey to this moment in time before leaving them to enjoy the fire and wine before turning in for the night.

There is a reason Air BNB are on of the most successful companies in the accommodation realm. The process of “reviews” is a carefully designed mechanism that feeds the algorithms of the program and provides social credit for both the person that has booked and the accommodation venue (us). It is an important tool and not unlike a video game in that the more reviews you get the more access you get to promote your place. If the next guest gives us a score, we get to open up the accommodation booking window past the three month restriction we have until we reach that level. Whilst everything should be free and nothing should be based on social credit, kudos to Air BNB for figuring it out, the “business” side of me has gone down the Air BNB rabbit hole and it is quite clever. That said, if you were smart you would book directly on this website as the prices are better and we all avoid the fees of the corporate bollocks.

Make it stand out

Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.

I will leave you with a little video I took the other day whilst going for a stroll around the property. What was meant to be a fifteen minute wander in the bush on the property turned into two hours as I discovered new trails and ecosystems on the twenty seven hectares that we pinch ourselves regularly on the understanding that we live here.

Thank you for reading my ramblings again – keep safe and see you next week.

The Captain.