Monday, April 6, 2009

Swept along with the wind...

Following the diving course, it was time to head south and take in the sights of the “Golden [east] Coast” of Australia. Or so I thought.

Unfortunately, at the exact same time that I was planning to head south, so was a category five cyclone “Hamish” – similar to the worst category of hurricane there is. Consequently, the sailing, diving and pretty much anything else which resembles fun was called off. Darn.



This then prompted a series of events, culminating in multiple extended bus journeys to the subsequent southern town, just to be told that everything was being canceled from the day I had arrived.

After 38 in little over 52 hours of bus inducing boredom, I finally arrived in Brisbane. By this time, to make matters a little worse, I had a doctor take a look at my ear, only to be told that it had been perforated and that I would not be able to undertake any activities involving getting my ear wet.

To celebrate this news, I went jet-skiing.



Before I went on this adventure around the world, I had been a keen sailor for the past few years, learning the ropes, literally on a two man dinghy every other weekend. Whenever I was out and about, I used to discuss with my very experienced sailing partner about many things in life. One time, I rather accidentally wondered into a sailing minefield. Jet skiers.

In the same way by which classic car enthusiasts hate “Gary-boy” racers, sailors despise jet-skiers. I don't know if it's entirely due to the wake produced by these machines which they despise, more the attitude and total lack of respect for the invisible ten metre zone of control every sail boat would like to command. Either way, for one afternoon, I was to join the enemy.

Jet skis are easy enough to control, with a jet of water shooting out of the back in various directions being your only means of propulsion and steering. If you want to go fast, just crank the throttle. If you want to stop, don't. With that wonderful introduction to the world of jet-skis under my belt, it was time to take to the water and see what they could do.

It turns out that they are rather fast. In fact, they are very fast indeed – reaching top speeds in excess of 50 knots. When doing these speeds though, you have to cling on pretty hard, otherwise ripples on the surface of the water will do their best to throw you askew.

Stopping off on an island just outside of Brisbane, the fellow jet-skiers an I discussed our sore thighs (for that is what you use to hold on) and sore everything else too. Everyone had a smile on their face though – so the pain can't have been that bad!



The return journey was uneventful, although did prove the ideal time to go flat out, trying to jump the wakes of various boats on our way back. Luckily, the wind was awful that day, so I don't think I was sworn at by many sailors – if I was, sorry, I know how you feel!!

With time rapidly running out, and a need to get to somewhere lacking in cyclones, it was time to enter Sydney before an early morning departure to New Zealand. There, I was to spend far longer than the ten days in Australia and hopefully achieve far more too!

1 comment:

Powersport Rentals said...

Good stuff! Wish I could have joined you :)