Sun, 13 May 2001
So what to do on a Friday night in Sydney? You know us, we seek out interesting live music. Mainly, it should be modern, in a small venue where we can touch the stage if we want to, and cheap. We figure we'll have to listen to six mediocre bands to get to hear one gem. Friday we got one, Snarl. Mostly percussion, and we liked it.
We went by ourselves though, all the other cruisers are heading north, the last other one in this marina, left today, without a word, though he's been anything but talkative since he arrived, so that didn't surprise me any. It's like a migration up the coast, with a series of boats making short jumps from port to port. I can visualize it. All along the coast, on gray mornings cruising boats head out to sea. A couple on board, with their practiced hands, they set sail and settle into the next leg. Growing smaller in my minds eye as they move north. At nightfall, or maybe after a day or two, they duck into the next town. A hundred lonely journeys, each seeking the sun, heading north toward Cairns, then on to the West. Over the top, Darwin, Bali, Thailand...the Indian Ocean. We've been left behind.
We watched the fleet depart, such as it is, not much of a fleet here in Sydney really, just a few other misfits like us. Now it's pretty lonely at the dock. Maybe its just as well they left, going to hear music isn't something we can do with other cruisers anyhow. We've never met any who'd do it with us, or if they would, we didn't figure they'd like it. Furthermore, the two of us stand out enough in the places we go, with mostly 20's something people, mostly dressed in black too. A group of four or six greyhairs would really attract attention.
Friday night the band was pretty loose. They said that it was their last performance for a few months while they all take holidays overseas. We guess that made them relax. Relaxed or not, it was good music. Lots of percussion, pipes, vibraphones, bells, like Mike Oldfield, or whatever his name is, was. But they could rock. And did. They got with it for a while then they took their armadillo and left town. The next band never woke up at all so we left.
The funny thing is that it won't be that long before the next batch of boats arrive. They're already coming. It's a set of waves washing westward. Australia is just a rock they swirl around. I guess that makes New Zealand a pebble.
We didn't join the fleet this year, and many of our friends headed onward without us. But never mind. We'll do our thing here for a year, then head on out ourselves. That's cruising too.
Fred & Judy