Monday, March 14, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
Letter From The Other Side; from Cynthia 2011 No 4
Dear Del,
You will remember that Teddy has been making an Inuit canoe.
He has kept it as close as he could to the original design. No screws, just wood, string and instead of animal hide, he used an old canvas painting drop-sheet bought in 1976 which like many things in his shed was kept because it might come in handy one day. Well with the advent of the canoe, the day arrived.
He experienced a few minor setbacks of his own making along the way.
Eager to demonstrate it to one of our neighbours he put it onto the grassed area outside his shed and stepped in and sat down. A sharp cracking noise came from one of the wooden ribs so that had to be repaired. Then in another rush of enthusiasm he demonstrated the repaired canoe to our son-in-law and flung the paddle too vigorously during the display. It broke in half.
Another delay while a new paddle was shaped amid yet more wood shavings which seemed to blow, walk and creep their way across the verandas, lawn and into the house, infest his socks, the carpet and eventually the washing.
I hoped by the third demonstration he would remember it was actually being made to go into water.
At last the launching day came and with much care the Titanic as I had unimaginatively named it was ready to be launched onto the large and deep lake a few kilometres from home.
It was still the busy tourist season and so the lake was swarming with holiday boats, jet skis, old fishing tinnies, and all manner of floatable objects that would support children and the big grown up children more commonly called men and fathers.
Many of the boats arrived on bright shiny trailers, because they were expensive beautifully painted fibreglass or lovelingly cared for painted wooden sailing boats which would have originally made enormous holes in the sailors bank accounts and probably put a shiver up the spines of many accountants as they paled at the thought of justifying the gross expense their clients had indulged in.
Teddy turned up with his old painting drop sheet, wooden and string canoe and placed it on the waters edge.
Someone in the crowd noticed the ugly duckling sitting at the waters edge and soon the word passed around and a few dozen pairs of eyes watched with interest, bemusement and uncontrolled mirth as Teddy sat in the fragile structure and using a branch lying in the water pushed out.
To the amazement of the majority, Terry and his canoe floated and stayed upright. In fact as he pointed the bow at the wash from a larger boat which had passed him to get a better look, he flicked across the small wave without a problem.
He paddled his way out and across to where the mouth of the river which feeds the lake enters and received a shock as the change in temperature against his legs from the cold mountain water made it feel momentarily that he was, to quote him in seafaring terms, ‘taking on water’, or as I would have said, sprung a leak.
Not so, it was just the thinness of the drop sheet between the water and his legs allowing him to have such a quick reaction to the changing temperatures. His confidence grew which is never a good thing with Teddy, it makes him rash. I know, I have been married to him for forty seven years and rash and Teddy are a bad mix.
He paddled into faster water and forgot a basic rule of canoeing, he grabbed at a branch that was in the way. Naturally, this overbalanced him as the canoe kept going and he staid with the branch. Next thing he was upside down. Not a good way to be.
I had given him two choices while the canoe project was in progress he could take a course with the local canoe school or, he would find during one cold day, a large axe through the bowels of his project because I begun to use it for kindling. He knew I wasn’t kidding. We Aussie girls are not to be messed with. He took the course.
Now that he was upside down he realized the course had been a good idea because he did really need to be able to breath. He had practiced righting himself or getting out so that he could right the canoe.
He admitted later after he was washed and warm that the ‘Dad’s Army’ prase which became immortalized in our generation of ‘don’t panic! don’t panic’ came into his head.
After what seems a very long time he resurfaced, took a great gulp of air and recovered some of the objects which had been flung out of the canoe. The cricket hat which one of our boys wore for years and Teddy has worn ever since our son left home now lies at the bottom of the lake and I suspect during the next few months there will be further litter from his canoe which will join the hat.
He came back to his launching site, nonchalantly put the canoe back into the trailer and came home feeling he had done the sea faring blood which runs in his mothers side of the family proud.
The escapade did show up a few ‘minor adjustments’, another phrase I remember a bloke called Frank used a lot. The opening had to be enlarged to accommodate his body and long legs so that the next time he upends himself he doesn’t removed a layer of his shins as he abandons ship in a hurry.
Also, he has fixed a watertight jar to place a camera in so he can take a video of himself upending. This will be a great memento for me and the family if he doesn’t resurface at some time. Very thoughtful of him. Something we will play a lot.
The other thing is I have to rename it because it didn’t sink on its first voyage. Let me think on it for a while, there is the Marie Celeste or the Bounty, or The Bismarck. No nothing there. I’ll give it more thought. Maybe ‘The Ugly Duckling’, at least it floats.
Of course his sons and son-in-law are thrilled to be told he is going to make a second canoe so they can go with him when they visit.
I wonder how long it will be before we see any of them? It could be quite a while and most probably during very bad canoeing weather.
He mentioned he might take it down to the beach when we visit them. ‘After all, the Inuit’s built them as sea fairing craft’. He said.
I won’t write what I said, but the gist of it was NO!
As my neighbour remarked when we watched him disappear around the corner dragging the canoe on a set of wheels he has made to allow him to take it to the river nearby, 'He's not quite like the rest of us is he?'
'No' I replied 'no, never has been really.'
I need to do a little gardening therapy but before I go, a quote from ’The Little Book of Crap
Advice’ by Michael Powell ‘Experience is something you don’t get until AFTER you need it!’
Cheers for now ‘your flower child’ friend,
Cynthia.
Dear Del,
You will remember that Teddy has been making an Inuit canoe.
He has kept it as close as he could to the original design. No screws, just wood, string and instead of animal hide, he used an old canvas painting drop-sheet bought in 1976 which like many things in his shed was kept because it might come in handy one day. Well with the advent of the canoe, the day arrived.
He experienced a few minor setbacks of his own making along the way.
Eager to demonstrate it to one of our neighbours he put it onto the grassed area outside his shed and stepped in and sat down. A sharp cracking noise came from one of the wooden ribs so that had to be repaired. Then in another rush of enthusiasm he demonstrated the repaired canoe to our son-in-law and flung the paddle too vigorously during the display. It broke in half.
Another delay while a new paddle was shaped amid yet more wood shavings which seemed to blow, walk and creep their way across the verandas, lawn and into the house, infest his socks, the carpet and eventually the washing.
I hoped by the third demonstration he would remember it was actually being made to go into water.
At last the launching day came and with much care the Titanic as I had unimaginatively named it was ready to be launched onto the large and deep lake a few kilometres from home.
It was still the busy tourist season and so the lake was swarming with holiday boats, jet skis, old fishing tinnies, and all manner of floatable objects that would support children and the big grown up children more commonly called men and fathers.
Many of the boats arrived on bright shiny trailers, because they were expensive beautifully painted fibreglass or lovelingly cared for painted wooden sailing boats which would have originally made enormous holes in the sailors bank accounts and probably put a shiver up the spines of many accountants as they paled at the thought of justifying the gross expense their clients had indulged in.
Teddy turned up with his old painting drop sheet, wooden and string canoe and placed it on the waters edge.
Someone in the crowd noticed the ugly duckling sitting at the waters edge and soon the word passed around and a few dozen pairs of eyes watched with interest, bemusement and uncontrolled mirth as Teddy sat in the fragile structure and using a branch lying in the water pushed out.
To the amazement of the majority, Terry and his canoe floated and stayed upright. In fact as he pointed the bow at the wash from a larger boat which had passed him to get a better look, he flicked across the small wave without a problem.
He paddled his way out and across to where the mouth of the river which feeds the lake enters and received a shock as the change in temperature against his legs from the cold mountain water made it feel momentarily that he was, to quote him in seafaring terms, ‘taking on water’, or as I would have said, sprung a leak.
Not so, it was just the thinness of the drop sheet between the water and his legs allowing him to have such a quick reaction to the changing temperatures. His confidence grew which is never a good thing with Teddy, it makes him rash. I know, I have been married to him for forty seven years and rash and Teddy are a bad mix.
He paddled into faster water and forgot a basic rule of canoeing, he grabbed at a branch that was in the way. Naturally, this overbalanced him as the canoe kept going and he staid with the branch. Next thing he was upside down. Not a good way to be.
I had given him two choices while the canoe project was in progress he could take a course with the local canoe school or, he would find during one cold day, a large axe through the bowels of his project because I begun to use it for kindling. He knew I wasn’t kidding. We Aussie girls are not to be messed with. He took the course.
Now that he was upside down he realized the course had been a good idea because he did really need to be able to breath. He had practiced righting himself or getting out so that he could right the canoe.
He admitted later after he was washed and warm that the ‘Dad’s Army’ prase which became immortalized in our generation of ‘don’t panic! don’t panic’ came into his head.
After what seems a very long time he resurfaced, took a great gulp of air and recovered some of the objects which had been flung out of the canoe. The cricket hat which one of our boys wore for years and Teddy has worn ever since our son left home now lies at the bottom of the lake and I suspect during the next few months there will be further litter from his canoe which will join the hat.
He came back to his launching site, nonchalantly put the canoe back into the trailer and came home feeling he had done the sea faring blood which runs in his mothers side of the family proud.
The escapade did show up a few ‘minor adjustments’, another phrase I remember a bloke called Frank used a lot. The opening had to be enlarged to accommodate his body and long legs so that the next time he upends himself he doesn’t removed a layer of his shins as he abandons ship in a hurry.
Also, he has fixed a watertight jar to place a camera in so he can take a video of himself upending. This will be a great memento for me and the family if he doesn’t resurface at some time. Very thoughtful of him. Something we will play a lot.
The other thing is I have to rename it because it didn’t sink on its first voyage. Let me think on it for a while, there is the Marie Celeste or the Bounty, or The Bismarck. No nothing there. I’ll give it more thought. Maybe ‘The Ugly Duckling’, at least it floats.
Of course his sons and son-in-law are thrilled to be told he is going to make a second canoe so they can go with him when they visit.
I wonder how long it will be before we see any of them? It could be quite a while and most probably during very bad canoeing weather.
He mentioned he might take it down to the beach when we visit them. ‘After all, the Inuit’s built them as sea fairing craft’. He said.
I won’t write what I said, but the gist of it was NO!
As my neighbour remarked when we watched him disappear around the corner dragging the canoe on a set of wheels he has made to allow him to take it to the river nearby, 'He's not quite like the rest of us is he?'
'No' I replied 'no, never has been really.'
I need to do a little gardening therapy but before I go, a quote from ’The Little Book of Crap
Advice’ by Michael Powell ‘Experience is something you don’t get until AFTER you need it!’
Cheers for now ‘your flower child’ friend,
Cynthia.
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