I believe it’s only magic.
Captains Log - 0008/ 07th March 2024 / 0200hrs
It is great when a plan comes together. The well oiled machine of process verses outcome. It pretty much sums up my day job, although somewhat more complex. The reason I am writing this entry at 2am is testament to one of those plans coming together. Admittedly the sentences are taking a little longer to write - might be the outcome of rock and roll, good friends, amazing location on the planet and a couple of beverages. Everyone has gone to bed - close friends who have journeyed to this part of the world to spend the weekend eating, drinking, laughing, dancing, exploring and being. Some old friends from before the last millennium journeyed from below Hobart. New friends from the recently departed north of the State.
I don’t know the age range of those reading these logs, but for this part you need to have some sense of growing up in Australia in the 80’s and 90’s. Or at least be interested in it. Maybe you have parents that lived through it (or kids). Anyway, we lived through it in various parts of the world in our small tribe of six here in Binalong Bay for the weekend - and it is fair to say that Australian pub music factored considerably during these years. If you are reading this, you would have fitted into the conversation if you have memories of seeing Jimmy Barnes in the soaking rain at the Sydney Royal Easter Show. Attended Australia Made (they made a movie out of it) at Cronulla Shark football field (Inxs, Jimmy Barnes, Divinyls, The Saints, The Models, Mental as Anything, The Triffords, I’m Talking), Midnight Oil at the Horden Pavillion, and everyone else everywhere else (Ian Moss, Australian Crawl, Pseudo Echo). But wait there is more - remember Dragon - of course you do. We just came back from their 50th (yep - you read that right) Anniversary Tour at the outstanding Scamanda Resort. Ears are still ringing a bit, but memory lane with the audience providing harmonies to most of the songs. April Sun in Cuba, Are you old enough, Still in Love with You, Dreams of Ordinary Men - if you know these songs then they are now being sung in your head (probably with a hair brush as a microphone).
(for the record - 2am log writing got a little too difficult to contemplate at this point and the rest is written over coffee in the morning).
Speaking of singing with a hairbrush microphone in the ‘90’s…….here is a little tale to set the scene. Debi (the first mate - promoted from Deck Hand just recently), was at a pub in Melbourne late eighties. One of those “work hard, play hard” ethos mantras that was set into the mindset of the day. A week of madness of ships, trucks and trade ends on a Friday night and the tribe at the time all agree to meet at a place for “hair down” time. On this particular evening a band was playing. Called Dragon. One of those typical Australian Friday night city session places before expensive tickets, stadiums etc etc. If you know Debi then you know that if she is in front of a band there is a deep instinctual drive to not be dancing in front, but up on stage singing - it is her natural habitat and one of her favorite places to be. On this particular night Marc Hunter was singing with the original Dragon band and the mood was electric. After some subliminal conversations with Marc with very strong subliminal messages being sent back that interpreted into words would verbalize as “no way”, the urge got too strong and Debi just jumped up anyway - I mean there was a spare microphone just standing there on stage (it’s like putting a piece of chocolate in front of me and saying you can’t eat that). It was the last song of the evening and the song was “Rain” (I bet you are humming it now). The good news is Debi can sing. Nods and smiles from the Keyboard player, Marc Hunter resigned to the fact and the crowd pumping - so much so that the crowd also jumped up on stage and danced with the band. With the song over, Debi struts up to Marc Hunter with a grin and a nod and he gives the same back - respect.
So the Dragon gig on the East Coast of Tasmania was special. Debi didn’t make it up on stage (although she tried a few times, this new generation of “Dragon” were on their own terms which is fair enough and an excellent time was had by all). Next weekend is Pseudo Echo at the same place, except this time the key board player is the same fella I recorded my last song with - so our names are on the door and I fully expect Debi will be up there singing at some point. Music is great.
A stellar night of great music and fun. But the story does not end there!
How I love the East Coast of Tasmania - let me count the ways….but here is one reason why I love it more.
Six of us heading to a gig about 30 minutes away, all desiring to have a few drinks and some fun, but with the absolute knowledge that the ‘80’s and ‘90’s days of a few ales and a drive home are certainly a thing of the past (thank goodness for all), so the problem of how to get there and back was a discussion. One volunteered (reluctantly) to be the designated driver. A phone call to the Mountain Bike folk to see if they wanted a cash job for their van to take us there and back. A ring to the only taxi service in St Helens - expensive! Until finally I decided to use the “electronic notice board for St Helens on Mark Zuckaberg’s Meta Facebook world.
A post was made asking if anyone wanted some spare cash to take some slightly merry folk too and from the gig. A message came through to contact Teresa (not her real name). But on checking my messages Teresa had already contacted me. The message read “I am going to the Dragon show tonight, I am going alone and I don’t drink and I have a seven seater van”. A couple of messages back and forth and our ride is cemented to and from with no limits on enjoyment. Coffee’s on the deck of the ship on return and a new friend made from the digital heavens and made the path smooth and comfortable to Dragon. Three cheers for Mother Teresa of St Helens.
One of the tribe brought a trail cam with them. Now that is a great bit of kit which is now on the “to buy” list. For the last two nights we have set up the cam at strategic locations on the property. To be fair, no more than 50 meters from the house. On the first night we set it up at the entrance between the fences to the native lawn that is our front yard and is the restaurant of choice for William the wallaby and his family. You usually see them there just after dusk or just before dawn munching away on the grass (very chilled animals our wallaby friends - their front arms are evolved for resting at the right level to just sit and eat). After viewing the cam the following morning we have now named this entrance as “Wallaby Way” - it needs a sign. William and his crew wander in casually and can be seen hanging out eating in digital enhanced black and white (see below).
One surprise however was a cat. It would seem we have a striped cat that lives around here. Once perhaps a generation or two ago a domestic house cat, now quite at ease living in the bush with the rest of the population of the 27 hectares. I am however very conscious that said cat will be a nemesis once the chook paradise is established - but I am prepared for that (electric fences, Fort Knox fencing anchored to the ground, solid wood chook castle - the previous owner warned us about this, and quolls).
The second cam set up last night (whilst we were at Dragon) was placed on the corner of a post in one of the vegetable raised garden beds where I have planted broccoli and spinach and something is nibbling. Cleverly, whatever is nibbling only eat one of two of the leaves of each plant leaving a leaf so that there is a still s fighting chance of survival and eventual actual broccoli and spinach - but it is annoying me regardless, leave my plants alone, you have a whole forest to eat from, this bit is mine. Unfortunately whatever is doing the nibbling may be smarter than me as they decided that last night they would give the plants a miss and there is no evidence to date - mystery to still be solved.
How lucky are we though to live in an age where you can set up a solar paneled powered battery operating camera to a stick and record all around and watch in the convivence of a leather recliner in front of a fire the next morning.
Mark Zuckerberg for all the drama and chaos of what is Facebook, has to be given a nod though to have created such a ecosystem that has connected so many people. One of my nods also goes to the person that thought of the function of “here is what you did on this day so many years ago depending on how long you have been around on this platform” (I do believe I would classify as a founding member - sort of like the Tasmanian Devils - yeah, I bought one of those memberships). Anyway, this morning the below photo popped up as a memory from 2020. My son had just been evacuated out of Belgium due to some virus going around and on arrival we plonked him into an Air BNB by himself for two and half weeks just to be sure he had not brough back the zombie apocalypse with him (mad to even contemplate how we behaved back then!). The below photo is the coffee shop (Montello in Launceston) where I would order coffee and a muffin for William each morning (and me) and drop at his front door. The sticker in front of the window on the pavement is exactly where you had to stand to receive said coffee and muffin.
Thank you for reading my ramblings again – keep safe and see you next week.
The Captain.