8/2/2016 0 Comments Giant Leaps ForwardThey say it takes a village to raise a child and what I have learned in this past few months since breaking my leg is that it takes a village to recover from a significant injury.
It has been 13 weeks. Yep - 13 weeks of injury, assessment, hospital, testing, x-rays, CT scans, splints, pills, surgery and pain since that one little fall - but now, finally, it has all changed. It feels like a giant leap forwards! Now my days are filled with exercise, visits to the physio and constant challenges to go that little bit further, dig that little bit deeper…..and move that little bit closer to being stable enough to be able to return home to the life on the boat that I so badly miss. On Wednesday a week ago I attended the orthopaedic clinic and heard the words I had waited so long to hear – ‘You may begin to put some weight on the leg’. I was ecstatic! I had gone to my appointment with hope that this would be the outcome, while holding on to as little expectation as possible just in case they still felt that my bones needed more time to be fully healed. But this time the surgeon was happy with everything and sent me straight to see the physio. It was THE most bizarre feeling to put my foot down on the ground and stand up for the first time on BOTH feet. For 3 months I have worked super hard to protect this leg. Worked tirelessly to not slip up in the recovery period and put it on the ground even briefly, and every part of my being has been focussed on caring for the damaged bone and making sure that one small mistake in the recovery period doesn’t cost me anything in long term problems. And I did it! I got through that whole long time without a mishap. And now it’s done and my job description has changed. Suddenly my role is not a passive one but a very active one and every day my focus is on doing rather than being! I am seeing a great physiotherapist and in less than a week I have progressed hugely. On day one of being allowed to bear weight I stood on my leg for the first time and became dizzy and faint. From there I have been able to walk more and more easily, gained strength and a little more confidence in my leg’s capacity to support me again and yesterday my physio (Charlotte) watched me walking with the crutches and said I was ready to go with one crutch alone. A graduation of sorts! While I am not yet able to perform all the tasks necessary to be able to get on and off my boat, and can’t yet go home, I am able to be a lot more independent. I can now go out on my own, driving myself to medical appointments, meeting Erina and Liam out and about and while I can’t walk far, I am feeling delighted that I have this much more control over my daily life. Which all leads me again to say how very much I have been blessed in these 13 weeks with such incredible support. The village I have had around me has provided me with a home to manage my life in during the time I couldn’t return to the boat, all the medical care necessary, and the support the children have needed to manage the boat in my absence. These past 13 weeks have been hard in many ways, but how much easier they have been made by the availability of this village and I will never stop saying how much I have valued that. The boating community is simply awesome and I can’t wait to be back out on the water myself, in……well in not much longer. My physio said our next session will be all about climbing – what an awesome thought, that I would be so close to making my return home……..
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7/17/2016 2 Comments On being a patient patient!It's almost 11 weeks now since that fateful autumn day when one wrong move saw me landing heavily on the deck instead of lightly on the next seat as I had intended, injured and barely able to move. Autumn gave way to winter and winter has half passed and still I have not been able to return to the boat. When I first left the boat to go to the hospital and have the injury examined I hoped the kids would be okay for the evening. Little did I know then what a journey I was about to undertake - I thought at worst I might be gone till late that evening and made sure they had all they would need! I had no idea what would unfold for me. When the radiologist came out from where she stood to take the films and said it looked quite bad, I still had no idea what was going to be ahead of me. I pictured a cast and wondered how I would be able to get on and off the boat – my first glimpse into the coming days. But it had been a long day and I was finally warm and overwhelmed by sleep so I nodded off without thinking too much about what the near future was going to look like. I had made sure the kids would be okay overnight and still thought little of what lay ahead for me. When the orthopaedic registrar came to see me in the early hours and told me I would need surgery, and explained what a complex break it was, I began to understand that what I was facing was a little more tricky than the torn tendon or dislocated knee I had thought I might have had but still remained clueless of the duration of recovery time I was looking at. This injury has been very much a process of progressive revelation! If I had known right at the beginning that it was going to be such an incredibly long journey back to full mobility I would have felt quite overwhelmed. So 11 weeks later I still have a journey ahead of me. I am a little over a week away from my next orthopaedic appointment. My expectation is that at that visit I will be given permission to begin to weight bear. At that point I will begin working with a physio and practice standing, then taking steps. Depending on how I manage that I will have a clue as to how to manage the next transition I face - going from walking frame and wheelchair to slightly less assistance in moving. My goal of course is to return home but the complexity of the movements I will need to be able to make to hop into the Dinghi, climb up onto the boat, move from the side of the boat around to the hatch and then down below are not things I'm going to be able to do immediately. It will still be a step by step process (pun absolutely intended!!!) and it will still be a while before I can return home. But the waves are calling me. I returned briefly to the boat a couple of weeks ago when the kids were finally free to return Argos to the marine stadium area after having served the full time away required by the local authorities. We celebrated their being able to anchor more safely and among friends by having a little party on board. A couple of the fellas brought Argos in to the jetty for me - coinciding perfectly with the charter fishing boats who had all dropped off their passengers and were not returning for hours. So we tied up and I was able to get on board very easily by sitting on the back deck which was the perfect height, and then shimmied backwards until I was fully on. I was able to sit for the evening surrounded by friends, gently rocked and where I could hear, see and smell what I missed! That was two weeks ago and the first time I'd really seen the boat properly since my fall. Homesickness has really set in since then! But I have learned a great deal through all this. I've learned how incredibly capable my kids are. They have managed the boat, managed in harder-to-get-into anchorages, managed working from the boat and all the complexities of getting to and from work, sharing a dinghi while each working In different locations - not without the occasional mishap - dinghies not being where they thought the other had left it and having to catch a bus to another location, the dinghi deflating while at work and needing to be pumped up when they return late at night to go home, dinghies filling with water during a storm and the self-bailer failing, and yes, the bailing bucket having gone missing from the dinghi. Dinghi’s that were not quite as secure as expected having to be retrieved from the rescuer! Their attitudes have been challenged many a time and tested but they have come out on top and leave me confident in their growing capacity to manage so much more than most kids their age. My own biggest learnings have been about pain management and the challenges faced by people with mobility impairment. I am not good at managing pain. I have a tendency to not be aware of it and to minimise it – I have lived with way too much pain in my life and while on some levels that might seem like a good thing, it isn’t always. I am learning. I am learning to call it what it is. I frequently have terrible nights where I can't sleep at all and spend hours wondering why, only to identify that I just can't seem to get comfortable. You'd think by now I would know straight away right? But no. After 8 births (most drug- free) I guess I have a fairly high pain threshold but I don't do myself any favours when I miss-label my pain as a bit of discomfort! Having a metal plate in my leg and some whopping screws holding the break firmly together is a very interesting sensation. If it's cold then I feel it intensely. If I have been active - out in the wheelchair or sitting for a long time, my ankle still swells up massively and my whole lower leg feels like it’s trapped in an ever-tightening vice - or like I'm wearing a very, very tight shin guard as if I'm about to play a game of hockey. It's 'interesting' but also often quite painful and I am learning to call it that. I've never been one for taking pills but now the local chemist warehouse is my favourite shop and I visit the friendly staff there frequently! I'm also becoming acutely aware of how un-wheelchair friendly our society actually is despite the perception that we do well in this area. Wheelchair friendly parking is great - though I don’t have a permit - if I had known at the start how long I was facing before getting my mobility back, I would have organised to get a temporary permit - but the unfolding process meant I didn't think that would be worthwhile for just a few more weeks, or a few more weeks...... Turns out that would have been very helpful. But wheelchair parking spots are only step one. Then you have to find the gutter-ramp so you can get the chair up the kerb. Some places they are close and some you have to walk to the end of the street to go up, then shop and then return to the one ramp in the whole area to go back to the car. Some shops don't have a ramp and I just can't go there at all. Often in shops I find that people don’t make eye contact with me. I'm down low to start with but people also seem to make a bit of a judgement that I'm 'disabled' and therefore whoever is pushing me is the customer. They look over my head, around about, anywhere but AT me and I have to speak to them before they will look my way - even if I am waving my shopping and bank card at them! I have become quite invisible - and yet I am still me - just me in a wheelchair. Getting around is a challenge in so many ways – people dart in front of us, some oblivious because their heads are in their phones, others just so spatially unaware that they don't notice the chair at all until they are stumbling around it. We make jokes about the people we nearly clean up but it's not really much of a joke that people are so in-conscious of how hard it is to push an adult in a wheelchair or how hard to manoeuvre they can be. I'm the winner here though because I will get my mobility back and I will bring this new consciousness with me. Me and those who have been with me on this journey. So today, with a little over a week to go till my next set of X-rays and assessments, I focus on being patient. I work on my knee and ankle mobility. I can't weight bear but I work on other movements. I can lift my leg, bend my knee past 90 degrees and can almost straighten it. I can rotate the knee a little and the ankle quite well. I put my foot down on the ground and remember what it feels like to touch floors and I imagine myself walking around, climbing on board and returning to my life. I miss my salty existence and I miss the sound of the waves crashing on the shore as I drift off to sleep at night, the gentle rocking motion of the boat at anchor but I appreciate the opportunity this experience has brought to me to learn stuff I never would have otherwise, and yes, my patience is definitely growing by the day! 6/23/2016 6 Comments Making Progress!It has been just over 6 weeks now since the little fall that saw my everyday life be tipped on its head and me off the boat. I’ve learned a great deal in that time about myself, about what my kids can do and about the process of recovery from a significant injury as a boatie.
I must say, at the outset, that the boating community has been fantastic throughout this whole ordeal, from helping me get off the boat and to the hospital, through supporting the children to manage everything, and to assisting me with somewhere to stay while I am recovering. I really couldn’t have done all this without that community of givers, carers and kind-hearts. It’s been 5 weeks today since the surgery on my leg. I had thought for a while that it was my delaying getting help that had resulted in the delay to surgery, but the more I understand about this process, the more I understand that the delay is fairly standard and that the inflammation we had to wait to subside was more about the injury and less about how long it took me to get seen to. I found that a great relief in many ways as I tended to hold myself responsible for that first painful 10 days before I could even have it repaired. That’s all behind me now and I am happy to say that I am healing well. My wounds are all going great, the staples have all been removed (all 23 of them) and no, it was not exactly pain free! There has been no sign of infection or anything amiss, and because it was an open reduction internal fixation (ORIF) rather than having an external cast on the leg, I have a pretty good range of movement in my knee and ankle and can comfortably straighten my leg. Each day I work on two things – rest and movement. Rest to ensure my bone has the best possible support to knit away inside, growing, building and doing all it needs to, and movement to ensure that I am developing and strengthening my capacity to return to a full range of motion in the affected joints. In just over one more week I go back to the hospital for my next orthopaedic appointment. At that point there will be x-rays and examinations and possibly I will hear that I can begin some partial weight bearing which puts me closer to being able to return to the boat! It’s still some ways off but I can see the light of it glowing just a little further ahead. Meanwhile the children have been fabulous. I mean that. They have done the MOST amazing things. Grown in the most amazing ways. I could not be prouder of how they have managed this very difficult situation. It’s funny because I kind of delayed going to hospital in part because I was worried about how the kids would manage if I had to wait a while at casualty. Being off the boat for six weeks already and some still to come, was the furthest thing from my imagination and not something I ever thought manageable. Each week while I have been off the boat, Gail, the sailor who so kindly invited me to recover in her home, has taken me to the various gatherings of the boating community. This has been awesome for me, so I have been able to stay connected with the kids and my friends but it has also been great for Gail who has struggled to get back to her boat since the tragic death of her husband. Now she too has become part of this little group and has even taken the first steps towards getting her own boat back in shape. And the best thing of all is that it is now only a week until we are free to return to anchoring in the Marine Stadium area which means that finally we will be able to return to something that resembles normal! The children will be safer, they will be able to access their bikes again and ride to work, and be closer to the awesome supportive boaties who have made this experience so bearable. Falling and breaking my leg so badly has also been an amazing eye-opener for how people with a mobility disability are treated these days. At ‘home’ I hop around using a frame to assist me to keep the broken leg safe, but out and about I use a wheelchair. Before this, if you had asked me, I would have said most places I go to are pretty wheel-chair friendly. I knew there were parking spots, ramps and accessible bathrooms. What I didn’t realise is how rarely these things all match up. Yes, there are parking spots, and ramps but often the ramps are nowhere near the shop you actually need, or not near the disabled spot, and you have to walk twice as far to get to every shop. Yes, there are disabled bathrooms everywhere but I cannot tell you how amazed I am at how many abled-bodied people that emerge from them, or the times mums tell me they ‘prefer’ the disabled loo because it’s easier with the kids, and they will only be a minute, little realising that this is currently my ONLY option, not my preference! The other thing I have noticed is how people often don’t see me when I am in the wheelchair. I might be at the counter waiting to be served, but people look at Gail and not me, as if I don’t exist! We have come a long way in our attitudes towards disabled people, but what I have learned is that we still have quite a long way to go and once I am back on my feet again there are definitely things I will be doing differently! It’s been almost 4 weeks now since that fateful day where one little slip put me in hospital with a badly broken leg.
At first I had just thought I might have dislocated my knee, then after the x-rays they told me it was broken but I still thought we were talking about my knee. Later that night the doctor sat down with me and told me the most unexpected news – that I had a depressed tibial plateau fracture which would require ORIF – open reduction internal fixation – and that I would have surgery first thing in the morning and then need to remain in hospital for 6 full weeks as I would not be able to return to the boat until I was able to bear weight on the leg. I was shocked and devastated to think that I had done so much damage in one small fall. The following morning, I was again saddened to learn that the surgery couldn’t go ahead as my leg had swollen too much and I would have to wait a week for the repair – the thought of six weeks off the boat was hard enough – now it would be seven – I couldn’t believe it. It has been an interesting time to say the least. And there has been a lot of learning and processing. One of the things I have come to appreciate is that being brave and stoic caused me more pain than I had really needed to endure. If I had called an ambulance instead of patiently waiting for friends to help get me there, I would have had pain relief sooner. If I had mentioned at the hospital how much pain I was in, I might have been seen sooner, and if I had been assessed sooner I might have not had to wait a week for the surgery as the swelling would not have been so bad. Lesson learned – speak up! Don’t think it’s nothing, take the pain seriously and don’t worry more about being a bother to others, worry more about getting help faster! I did survive that first long, slow, painful week before getting to surgery and finally 2 ½ weeks ago was wheeled into theatre. At last! It was awesome to be awake when I was taken in and I think they had to put the mask over my face just to shut me up so they could get on with the surgery, I had so many questions! But when I woke up it was a different story! Oh my! I’ve had 8 babies, six at home and some horrible miscarriages, but nothing matches the intensity of the kind of deep bone pain I woke up to. It took quite some time before the recovery nurses could get my pain levels under control and I was taken back up to my room but I was treated with such kindness and gentleness in that time and will always be appreciative to Shelly for her soothing presence and her softness. Once back up on the orthopaedic ward the goal was to begin to recover and I knew it was going to be a long journey. I could only hop on my good leg. My hurt leg was wrapped in bandages and in a splint still, like before the surgery and apart from the significantly increased pain, things seemed little different to before. But by the second day they had removed the bandages and I could see all my incisions – one long one for all the hardware inserted into my leg, and 5 others - for drains and the arthroscopy that was done at the same time to make sure the rest of my knee was all cleaned up, in addition there was one for where they had to push the bone back up in to place. Nice. And the next day the splint came off! I was pretty scared at that – no cast, just all the nuts and bolts inside holding it all together – but they assured me it was fine and that the plan was to do as much movement as I could tolerate. Normally people are encouraged to go home within days of their surgery but with my home being a boat, and being a boat at anchor, I presented the staff with somewhat of a challenge. They could not send me somewhere I couldn’t get to or function on, and so I had to stay until somewhere could be found. But there was nothing. Day by day I was making improvements and quite ready to leave the care of the hospital, but there was no program that could take me – I was too well-managing for rehab hospitals, too young for any kind of care homes and too well to stay on the ward…… And then the awesome sailing family I am part of stepped in. A woman I had met through the network Women Who Sail (a Facebook group) heard of my situation and volunteered her home. How amazing was that? I was speechless and so appreciative of her kindness and so plans were made for me to leave. There was quite a lot to organise. To go to Gail’s home I would need a number of mobility aids. I cannot put any weight on my repaired leg at all for at least 5 more weeks and so to move around the house I must continue to hop. I needed to hire a ‘hopper frame’, as well as a wheelchair for bigger trips – like out to dinner on Tuesdays at the Fisherman’s Tavern (Marine Mirage) with my other boatie friends, and coffee’s at Diva at Marina Mirage that I regularly shared in. In addition, I needed a shower seat so I could safely shower and a frame to surround the toilet so I could manage that too. Suddenly I have been thrust into a whole new world and see things I never saw before. Have you ever tried to open the door of a disabled toilet in a public building? I had no idea these could be so heavy. Or that the taps could be so hard to reach……I think we have come a long way in making places wheelchair-friendly but we still have a long way to go. And that’s only to mention two small things I have encountered – I know that by the time I am up and walking around again I will have gained a lot of insight into this area of life and will never again look at disability in the same way. That’s one of the wonderful aspects of this whole ordeal – how I have had this insight into how life is for many people. And I have learned that hopping is exhausting! I do a workout just getting to the bathroom! It’s amazing how this one limitation has changed the way I function! I have put a bag on the frame so that I can carry things around – because it’s awfully hard to hold things while hopping, but alas I have yet to be able to hop with a cup of tea! Gail has been awesome at looking after me and while I work on independent actions, it will be quite some time before I can manage on my own! Meanwhile the children have had challenges of their own. With my absence they have suddenly found themselves needing to not just look after themselves, but manage everything on the boat. And that has been far from easy for them. Erina had a job interview on one of the first days I was in hospital and began working at Turtle Bay Resort in Mermaid Beach the following day. Suddenly I was gone and both the kids would be at work all the time! How life changes! Early on Erina decided to cook ahead to make sure there were always decent meals available for them after busy days. She never does things by halves and ended up with over 30 meals! The freezer is full now of casseroles, Liam’s beloved Butter Chicken and goodness knows what else, all ready to be thawed and heated as needed. I worried so much at first about how they would manage alone but after nearly four weeks I can happily say that they really are awesome. They have had so much to contend with – the food was the least of their concerns really! The biggest issues have been with the need to keep moving the boat (6 days in one anchorage and then 24 hours away in another, and then returning to the 6-day anchorage) as per the local rules. We have been so fortunate to have an awesome group of boaties around us who have offered to assist and so each time the boat needs to be moved someone goes with them. Both Erina and Liam are able to do the move on their own now, which is brilliant, but having someone there in case something goes wrong and to be a guiding voice, well that’s an absolutely wonderful thing. Thank you to everyone who has offered to help with this. There have been other challenges with the boat, but more about that next time. And so I hop and move and rest and write and Liam and Erina manage and work and move the boat and that’s our life right now. Four more weeks and things will start to change again – and hopefully Miss Hoppy will be able to return again to being Mrs Argos. But Mrs Argos will be changed and her crew – well her crew have undergone the most profound change through all this – a more capable pair of teenagers you will never come across. I’ve been proud of them in so many ways for a long, long time – but my pride in them grows by the day – they have managed a very difficult situation with such maturity and strength. I wish things could have been easier for them but then I think, what awesome things they have learned and managed and what a foundation for things that will come at them in the future. The bad things become the making of us all. 5/13/2016 0 Comments Mrs Argos breaks a legMrs Argos breaks a leg
Accident: an unfortunate incident that happens unexpectedly and unintentionally, typically resulting in damage or injury. "he had an accident at the factory" synonyms: mishap, misfortune, misadventure, mischance, unfortunate incident, injury, disaster, tragedy, catastrophe, contretemps, calamity, blow, trouble, problem, difficulty; technical casualty "he was involved in an accident at work" After our first real adventure of cruising up the Broadwater to the Tipplers Passage anchorage over the weekend there was, of course a little cleaning up to do. The anchor chain had left a bit of a mess on the bow and needed cleaning up, as well as putting the snubber rope back on, a few tidying up things, things to put away, the simple tasks following a trip out. I am never what you might call ‘confident’ on the bow sprit – to be honest, I find it a bit scary out there! Taking off the anchor snubber and putting it back on are big deals to me, so when I need to be there I focus on hanging on tight and watching where I place my feet, taking little steps, watching all the time for possible and potential accidents, and being careful to avoid them all. I’d been doing fine. The snubber was back on – my first time doing it on my own – and I was up to cleaning up all the sludge and bits of barnacles that were coating my once pristine foredeck that had once been attached to the anchor. I had a small bucket and a brush for the task, the bucket had a rope tied to it, so I could drip it over, fill it and pull it back up and to make sure I didn’t drop it overboard, I tied the other end to the stainless steel rails of the bow sprit. The mess was almost all dealt with when the knot tied to the bucket handle came undone and I watched as, instead of coming back up when I pulled the rope, the bucket began to drift down along the starboard side of the boat. I was annoyed. I couldn’t reach it from the side of the boat – At the very least I’d have to go get another, but I could see it drifting back slowly and thought I still had time to retrieve it if I could grab the fish-landing net we stored on the port side back deck. I was doing fine – the net had been slid down a loose cable tie and to reach it I had to stand on a seat, but I got it and I with the net in my hands I turned to step across the seats on the back deck, The bucket was still there, floating slowly past and I went to step down on to the deck when I lost my footing and instead of simply hopping off the seat and grabbing up the bucket, I found myself landing in a heap on the deck, my knee twisted awkwardly beneath me, whacking my head back against the hatch opening, as I fell. My first thought was, damn, I lost the bucket, closely followed by an awareness of how bad my knee felt. And I was just getting back to normal after my last knee injury. Damn, damn, damn. Someone once told me that following a boat injury, a good practice was to get low, into a resting position and just kind of go floppy and go through your body, noticing what hurts and what’s ok. I did that and while my head was sore and a few spots on my back and bum, it was my left knee that was my biggest problem. Thankfully Erina was at home and down below and she was up like a light – ‘I heard the bang mum,’ she said, as she came up, and got me some pillows to support my head and leg – though even getting my knee supported felt like an impossible task it hurt so much. I was vaguely aware, in my supine position, of something next to my leg – was it a Gerry can? – and I needed it gone – I couldn’t bear to have it touching me. And then my phone rang and my son, calling to tell me he was contributing to a Mother’s Day gift for me, asked how I was and I ridiculously said, ‘Oh yeah I’m fine thanks, and you?’ I began to feel so cold on deck and all I could think about was getting down onto a comfortable seat, having a cup of tea and getting some ice on to the injuries, though I think Erina might have already brought the ice up to me, but suddenly all I could think about was getting myself to what felt like safety below. I wiggled over to the hatch opening and swung my legs around – one of the most intensely painful ideas I have ever had in my life, and gingerly started to go down the steps, aware with every movement that I really was in a spot of bother. Once down below, a task I achieved by hopping and holding on to things, and with every movement regretting that I had begun, but knowing that I had to continue now I was on the path to a comfy seat, it became more and more clear to me that the amount of pain I was in was indicative of something more than a bump and a bruise. I caught my breath on the couch and relished my strong hot tea. I think I knew all along that I was going to have to get off the boat, but I guess I was hoping that I was wrong and decided to call someone with good first aid skills who might agree with me and tell me it was okay to stay put. I called my neighbor Boyd. ‘How are you with first aid,’ I began, ‘I’ve hurt my knee’. We talked for a few minutes, with me explaining and him listening, when he said, ‘You are only calling me because you know it needs to be checked out aren’t you, and you don’t know how to do that right? You know it has to be done, we will figure out a way.’ And then he was coming – the decision made. I’m ok with injury – my own and others. I’ve never been squeamish and can stay level headed and objective in the face of accidents and wounds, and what he said was true – I was telling myself I only needed someone else to agree that it was ok and I could stay home, but in truth the very fact I was asking for a second opinion was indicative that I knew it was a little more complex than a knock that would be ok in a day or two. Thankfully I didn’t have to add any kind of personal anxiety or drama to that!!! But the other thing is, I don’t make a fuss, I don’t make a noise. If I am in pain I will get on with it. I once was delivering a baby and still had my toddler in the room, who was a little distressed at something unusual happening. I was reading her a story and she sat perched on the edge of the bed, my arm around her, when I knew I needed to push. ‘Get the baby’ I managed between powerful expelling contractions, and the midwife thought I meant to lift off the toddler – ‘No,’ I managed, ‘Not that one, the BABY!’ – she had no idea that I was so close to delivering and still comforting and reading to the toddler! And so, in one final act of madness, I decided that I really needed to go to the bathroom. My logic was that if I was to be taken off the boat and to hospital, then I would definitely need to go to the loo first and what better way to see how I was going to move than to have a little experiment first! It seemed sensible, and in some ways was, as I really did need to go to the loo – and it was so close…….what I hadn’t considered was the number of steps I would need to take and the number of ups and downs that would be involved in going from the couch in the stern cabin through the midships berth and up into the fore section of the boat where the bathroom is. On a good day you’d barely notice the steps, or the awkward little raised section of the bulkhead between the stern cabin and midships floor, or the lack of hand holds all the way through. Even the intricate and beautifully woven celtic knot mat that sits below the steps going up to the fore cabins represented an incredible barrier to my suddenly-limited capacity to move. But I made it and when I did felt such an incredible relief – one because I had been able to pee, and two because I figured if I could get that far, surely I’d be able to get off the boat? I began to make my way back to the stern cabin and with that in mind had tried to sit to go down the two steps that were there, when I realised there was another way out of course, with only 3 steps. Much easier to manage and closer. If only I hadn’t sat down already. I took a deep breath and steeled myself, preparing to pull myself up so I could sit my way up the steps and get back up on deck. I could hear activity outside, the sounds of an outboard engine that I recognised as Boyds, and then his and Erina’s voices. They were discussing who could be asked to help – and a quick check was made about who was on their boat and would be available, and then Boyd was off and Erina off in our dinghy, mustering up some help and some strength. Before leaving Erina had pulled out the fly-screen hatch covers from the forward companion way and I had begun my painful and slow journey back out. It was deliberate and measured and I hadn’t got far before I heard Erina return accompanied by a couple of others, and I braced myself for what I knew was going to be a very hard, but necessary journey up, out and off. I love the layout of Argos, and her old-style fitout but she sure is not an easy boat to get around and to get off when injured! Crawling and dragging myself backwards up the steps, through the cockpit – aided by Erina filling the cockpit floor with cushions so I wouldn’t go back down but could slide across from the steps to the seat and then…….then on to the next bit, dragging myself out of the cockpit and on to the deck. Happily Boyd had also returned and my ‘possie’ had all gathered by then and I had a breather while we considered the best place to get off the boat and how we would actually do it. There is an area on the starboard back deck with no gunwales, no barriers or impediments to get over to get off the boat. The plan was to get me there, to position a dinghy alongside at that spot and to get me over the edge and in. We decided that my own dinghy would be the best for the task as it was a sturdy and high inflatable, and as it was the one I was the most used to getting into and out of, a lot of the how-will-I-do-it was taken out of the equation, there was less for me to think about and more I would just know intuitively – how far down below the running boards it was etc. Two of the helpers were positioned in the dinghy (Reece and Rory) – Boyd became the ‘foreman’ and planner, organising what to do and who to do it, and then John positioned himself behind me to assist with my moving. There was the question of, where shall I hold you so I don’t hurt you and it’s not awkward, followed by an anywhere that isn’t my knee and then we were moving and the edge of the boat was close and I was going over, trusting the guys down there would be able to support me and I would get in without further injury, and preferably without further pain. I’m so glad I didn’t pass out during any of this process, it must have been as scary for my helpers as it was for me, and the possibility of me getting more hurt in the process of getting help was something we were all aware of. And then I was in the dinghy. I was able to keep my knee safe as we went across to shore and even able to swing both my legs over the side as the end of this part of the journey was in sight, and we were pulled up at the boat ramp, and Boyd – who had gone across with John in his own dinghi - had positioned his car right there for me to get in to. A journey is made up of many steps and that’s exactly how this one was for me – the first steps of getting back up on deck, and then out of the cockpit and then across to the side of the boat and then into the dinghi. In many ways, in my head, that was all there was to it, but in reality that was only the first series of steps…..after that cam the next and then the next. Getting into the dinghy was one thing, getting out of it and into a car was another. Boyd’s is a 4 wheel drive – a truck by my standards on any day and in the past when I have gone anywhere in it, I have suggested a ladder would be handy! On this occasion I began to feel I had missed a moment when some firemen could have come to my rescue!!! But we did it! John helped me get to the car and to where I could perch myself down on the edge of the front floor, and Boyd climbed in through the driver’s door, got his arms in under my arms and pulled……and then I was on the seat, swinging my legs in, and with a huge sense of accomplishment I sank back into the comfortable seat. We’d done it. My biggest boating fear faced fairly and squarely…..I had a significant injury on board and got off the boat. If this hadn’t happened at anchor, if it hadn’t happened when I was surrounded by other boats, I could have called for professional assistance…..and I guess I could have even here, but to be surrounded by friends while facing such an ordeal, was in itself comforting and supportive. Whatever had happened, and whatever was going to happen because of it, I was acutely aware of how surrounded by kindness, support and friends I was, am and will be through it – how appreciative I am for all of that and for the kids too. The dinghis all had to be returned to their various boats, and as Boyd began to drive, amidst calls of good luck, we were off on the easiest part of the whole thing. The hospital, a place of great familiarity to Boyd, who had been having treatment there the whole time we had known him, for melanoma (have you had your skin checked lately?) was not far, but with all the hard work over, I began to be even more aware, now I was sitting and resting a bit, of how much pain I was in. It felt like the longest part of the trip. On the way we discussed what I thought might have been going on and I said a dislocation – that would explain the intensity of the pain, the swelling, the lack of movement. Boyd agreed and we talked a little about the pressing things, how long I might have to wait, taking care of the children while I was there etc. I encourage him to not wait with me, which he had offered to do, but to return to the boat and be a support to the kids, who despite their maturity and coping skills, could, I felt, really use that. And so we arrived, Boyd went inside, had to wait for assistance and then fetched a wheelchair and I was got in to it. It wasn’t an easy task but after all we had done to get me that far it, it felt like a piece of cake. It took 4 hours from when we arrived at the hospital for a Doctor to examine me, and then another 45 minutes and an x-ray to discover that I had in fact broken my leg. 4/27/2016 3 Comments Hoisting the sails!Well it's taken me over a year, and I suppose by anyone's standards that's a long time, but this weekend I bit the bullet, took a deep breath and began work above decks that didn't involve cleaning, sanding or painting - I began work on the sails - making sure they were in good enough shape to actually head out for a sail. Making sure they all still worked!
It was a big deal. I could offer up a lot of excuses as to why it has taken so Long to get this far and some of them would be quite reasonable, but the simple truth of the matter lies somewhere between really not being ready yet and the big bad monster of fear. We made a bit of a party of it and a good friend (thanks Boyd!) arrived, complete with the fortifying six pack - not my regular drink but in this case the perfect accompaniments - and I set about Investigating what was what, what pulled up what and what it was all called. Armed with a previously prepared and beautifully laminated guide to the correct names for everything top-side (because what I lack in sailing know-how I more than make up for in administrative skills) and an attitude of curiosity - the best learning tool known to man - we began with the main'sl. The sail creaked and groaned its way slowly up the mast as we guided it between the back stays, clearly feeling as rusty as I did! I breathed a sigh of relief then, that it went up and looked quite okay. I don’t know what I was afraid of – maybe that it would have had creatures nesting inside who would have nibbled holes in it or something. It was a huge relief to find that nothing bad had happened at all during the year the sails had sat, protected (I hoped) in their various covers, while I came to grips with the enormity of the task left to me, of learning everything I needed to know to keep sailing alone. It was a little like riding a bike after a long time, if we didn’t think too hard and acted on muscle memory, we could locate where each halyard was and where it needed to be tied off. But more than just remembering, this exercise was also about learning. We are learning new names for things, correct names - like ‘topping lift’ instead of the rope that pulls the top part - because this time we are getting things right. So in amongst all of this fear-facing stuff there is also a sense of new-ness. It’s like learning to sail all over again, only properly this time. Reflecting on how it was, five years ago now, when we arrived in Albany, proud new owners of the amazing Argos, we really knew nothing. But in addition, I had no real interest in the sailing side of this adventure. It wasn’t my ‘thing’ and I was happy to acknowledge that I was just coming along for the ride, hoping to fulfil someone else’s dreams and take a bit of time to recover from a pro-longed period of ill-health. I wasn’t worried about learning how to do everything as I knew I never would be sailing alone. I helped in every way I could and was always out on deck doing what I was asked, but I never worried about understanding it all, or knowing intimately what was what – I never pictured myself being the one to say, ‘it’s a lovely day, let’s head out for a bit of a sail’! But it’s all different now and this time around I am acutely aware of how amazing it is to have people around me who know so much – I have the most incredible opportunity to actually learn to sail this vessel – properly! So I took the next step. Putting up the mains’l was only the start. Once hoisted we set to looking at how it functioned and we could straight away see something was quite wrong. While we were in the Whitsundays, in 2014, the boom was raised to create more head-room on deck – an idea gleaned from our friends on board the Joshua C Tallship. It had been measured in a fashion and raised but even I could see that it wasn’t right – the mains’l could not be pulled tight – no wonder we had not been able to sail up to the wind very well! We were just talking about the need to have the boom lowered back down again when our lovely ‘neighbor’ Kym came by, having seen us playing with the sails. Another very experienced sailor, he shook his head at the idea of raising the boom without adequately checking how the sail would work – and as we all looked and talked we could see other ways we could get the sail up fully - by removing a shackle and attaching it directly to the blocks – and better yet – by swapping out the wooden blocks and replacing them with smaller stainless versions. This would allow the sail to stretch tight and allow us to actually sail up to the wind……something, needless to say, we have never be able to do and thought the fault lie with the boat when in truth it had more to do with our lack of knowledge in how to actually sail! There were a few other issues to address – the fact that that sheets could not be properly pulled down and needed another block to run through, some fairleads and some clamcleats need to be replaced (yes, more new names to become familiar with) – and we were ready to progress to another sail. Argos has 8 so this was not going to be a simple afternoon’s (or one six-pack’s) work! We finished our beers as the sun began Its colourful descent and began to flush the sky with the same joyful hues I was feeling for having begun what had felt like a necessary but never-the-less daunting task. Having faced the fear and tackled the first sail, I felt so much more confident of managing the others. And like so many other times, nothing had come of my fear, instead, faced with reality, it so quickly dissipated and once more I was left wondering why fear ever takes such a hold of us when it’s often so hollow. On Sunday morning we got up and set about tackling the next sail – the fore sail. This one was easier – I wasn’t feeling as anxious for one – and something about getting the mains’l up the day before brought a sense of I can to the table! Almost immediately I could see that something was wrong – the sail had been tied to the boom with the rope OVER the reefing lines! Of course, before the previous days learning from Boyd and Kym none of us would have noticed the fault – and in fact I realised with a shudder that we never had worked out how the reefing worked and while we did get reefs into our sails, we had clearly not done it properly – and probably made sailing harder for ourselves than it had needed to be! The funny thing is, it took only one afternoon for us to learn more about sailing from these two good friends than we had learned in the previous few years since buying Argos! So we untied the sail and re-attached it, leaving the reefing lines free. Happily it too was free of any kind of damage and we soon had it hoisted – when we were again joined by Boyd who helped us tackle the next couple of sails – with freshly brewed coffee and Tim Tams this time instead of the previous days’ beer! We are not quite finished. It has been very windy since then and we need some more calm wind-free days to continue this task – but we have only one jib, the two rarely-used top sails and then the square sail to go and then we will have looked at everything and we will be ready……yes, we will be ready to go out for a sail. The thing is, it’s not really the sails that needed to be ready but me. I can see that now. And I am happy to say that I am. I am not the passenger any more – I have come a long way since deciding to sell my house and car and give up my job and follow someone else and now it is my dreams I am fulfilling and the funny thing is that sometime during this past year of recovering, sailing has become my dream. I think about getting out on the ocean, I think about places I want to go, I think about how I can set things up so it is easier for me to handle…..I think about things I want to do for myself and they all involve continuing this sailing journey. It’s a radical shift and one I would not have thought would come. I was happy to the passenger until I needed to take the wheel – now it is different – and dare I say it? I think I have been becoming Mrs Argos after all! 4/14/2016 0 Comments Changes!There are moments in our lives that are so significant that for ever afterwards will always be a kind of point of reference – where we think of life before this event and life after this event.
For the past year or so the point of reference in our life on Argos, was the moment where things unravelled to the point where it was just me and the kids aboard. I would think in terms of how many months since, what we have achieved since, who we have become since……. And while in many ways we still do this to a certain extent, in many ways there are little shifts now – and other things are becoming a new point of reference for us – things like when we came down to the Gold Coast, when we were hit by the ex-navy boat, when Erina started work, when Liam began learning the electrical trade…… Yes, in recent days there have been some very significant changes. Erina completed a Cert 3 in hospitality in February and was offered work on a casual basis with Carnival Cruises, then P & O and finally Cunard lines as a check-in chick……. To say she loved it would be an understatement – in fact she loved working with them so much she lost all interest in having a career as a chef and hopes instead to make it one day as more than a checker-in-er, and find her way on board a big cruise ship. The girls who work on check-in work on the land, at the Port of Brisbane, but it’s an entry level position with prospects in the future of working on board one of the ships. The cruising season in Australia is largely ended now and so the work has dried up, but not before she had the opportunity to assist people to set off on an epic adventure aboard The Queen Mary 2! Doing the check-in was followed up with a tour of the ship – an absolute highlight of the past few months for Erina! Erina continues to work with Champagne Sunset Cruises and occasionally with Sailing in Paradise, charter boats operating out of the Southport Marina precinct. She is continuing to look for more work aboard boats and possibly up-market cafe’s in the area too. She has recently got her learners permit, and also bought a bike so that she can be a little more independently mobile. Liam has also begun doing a little work experience with TechMarine, an excellent local marine electrical business. This is the company that had done all of our electrical work on board and for the past couple of weeks he has been setting off at 6.30 in the morning and spending his days listening, watching and learning. It has been an awesome opportunity for him. He was keen to learn marine electrics and he has impressed the owner of the business enough for him to offer Liam the opportunity to become an apprentice electrician. So these days I often find myself alone on the boat, preparing meals for the family to return home to, heading to and from the jetty at all sorts of times to collect people and manage the day-to-day life on board on my own. What a shift! Southport was becoming our home and now even more so with these sorts of opportunities arising - because of course this also means that we will be sticking around for some time to come! And what of Argos? She continues to look amazing and we continue to learn more and more all the time. With Liam developing a new skill set around electrics we now have better electric things happening than ever before. We hope in the next few weeks to install a new solar panel that will make us almost fully solar sufficient – with little need to ever run a generator. Liam has been learning from someone whose own boat is 100% solar powered and is so on top of our electrical situation that we have never been so power-rich – we can’t wait to be even less dependent on the generator and still have enough power for all our needs! Our current boat projects are to get the cockpit cleaned up and prepared for painting – and then to paint it. It’s been so warm over the summer and autumn so far that I have not been able to get to this but as the weather begins to cool a little I hope to be able to do so. There is also the need to restore the old fridge which was partially pulled out 18 months ago when it stopped working – at the time it probably only needed a bit of expert attention, but now I must have it completely rebuilt. We hope to get a marine refrigeration expert on board in the next month to assess this and advise us on how to progress this issue that has been a problem since we were in the Whitsundays in 2014! There are lots of other little jobs to deal with – internal varnishing of all the wooden linings and cupboards, table etc, and regular on-going engine maintenance things, but as the winter looms, so do cooler days when such things feel less difficult. We continue to all thrive in the Southport boating community – with regular dinners, beach bonfires, and very frequent coffee gatherings. Actually it’s amazing how little time there is for boat jobs with such a vibrant community around us! But that of course delights me and is something I will always welcome! I have found that the more we create a life for ourselves here, the less significant that other point of reference is for us and the more absorbed we become with the doing of the life we have made and allowed to unfold. 2/12/2016 13 Comments Almost a Year!Sometimes the most amazing things in our lives come to us unexpectedly.
Many years ago I was told, as newly married woman, that there was something significantly wrong and that I would not be likely to have any children. My young husband and I talked about adopting special needs babies and were in the process of trying one last fertility treatment before registering when to, my enormous surprise and disbelief, we learned that I was pregnant! I had thought my dreams of natural motherhood were gone and I was staggered to have, not just that one baby, but several more! Sometimes the things that bring us the greatest blessing come unexpectedly. In my forties my not-so-young-by-then husband and I ran into some difficulties. He had left and come back and I was trying to decide if I could salvage something of our marriage. I considered every possibility - went to individual counselling, marriage counselling, read everything I could get my hands on and in desperation, went to a meeting of a 12 Step self-help group, Co-Dependents anonymous. It was seriously the last thing I could think to do in my efforts to save my marriage but it turned out to be the thing that would, absolutely, save me. Sometimes the biggest blessings come when you least expect it. In this group I began to understand that I had unfinished business from the past - actually I had un-started business from the past. I had grown up in an abusive home and had tried to just walk away from it - leave it behind and get on with my life. In the group I began to see that you can try and leave the pain in the past but it refuses to stay there. It acts like an anchor, stubbornly refusing to be cast off until it has been attended to - like a wound that won't heal until it is treated properly. In recovery I began to finally deal with the past and in doing so began to get a better handle on my present. It didn't save my marriage but it brought to me an awareness of why my marriage was so broken and how little I could do to fix it. What had been so hard became suddenly the most amazing part of my life - an opportunity to start over and one and for all deal with the issues from the past. I was a single mum for many years after that. Happy, exploring the world on my own terms at last, revelling in discovering who this person was that I was becoming! That's when I remarried and sold everything to buy a boat to help fulfil someone else's dreams! I had thought this was how I was going to spend my later years - sailing off into the sunset with a man who loved me. But once again it was not to be - however, once again I have found that the most unexpected blessings have come when I least expected it. A year ago we were celebrating Valentine’s Day - lunch out and a few 'loving' little gifts. And then just a few days later the axe fell and I discovered that I was not the only woman in my marriage! There are some things no one should be asked to share and that was the last straw for me. But out of that horrible situation have grown the most amazing blessings. A year ago I would not have believed how we would all have grown. Our capacity to live on board our boat has actually been enhanced by being left to it! Argos is in better shape now that she has ever been since we first bought her, despite a serious lack of funds and what I would have thought of as a serious lack of knowledge. Of the three of us it is Liam who has benefitted the most from our sudden abandonment. Liam who was so quiet and unassuming. It started with the rope work that he has always loved - and the occasional rope mats he made for people. He was asked about his rope skills when we were in the boat yard and began making rope shackles for a rigging company. He began doing more and more rope work and rarely a week goes by where he hasn't earned something from his skills. Add to that that he has shown an amazing interest in and aptitude for electrical things and here you have this quiet laid-back boy getting experience working alongside some top marine electricians. He is learning more and more every day and asks questions that I don't even understand the language of, let alone know the answers to! Sometimes the most amazing come so unexpectedly. For Erina life goes on smoothly. She has had the opportunity to complete a Cert 3 in Hospitality. She works on charter boats out of the Southport marinas and is soon to begin a few days’ work experience aboard a Cruise Ship while it is in port. Her hopes and dreams involve combining her two greatest lives - cooking and boating. Who would ever have thought that this girl would find herself loving the boating life so much that she spends her leisure hours searching for a boat to live aboard for when she is ready to venture out alone! Unexpected blessings! And me - well I am a people person - always have been, always will be. One of the things that our transient sailing life brought that I struggled with, was the lack of community - the lack of relationships. Since February this has been so different. We are part of a vibrant connected community of boaters - never short of someone to have a coffee with or go out for a meal with. We have friends all around us and while there is some coming and going, we have found a place we feel we can belong here in this little community. We will venture out ourselves too but I love knowing we have somewhere to return to - something we did not know before. This year has brought so many amazing things - from Liam's growth to Erina's blossoming. From the sense of community to the many, many things we have all learned. It is absolutely true to say that the one again the most amazing things have come so unexpectedly. 12/8/2015 0 Comments Merry Christmas from Argos!It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas on board Argos!
With sparkly tinsel and lights adorning the beautiful stern window, and the little fibre-optic tree we bought in Portland on the first Christmas we had on board, and the back window area strewn with brightly wrapped presents, everywhere is looking very Christmassy! We were talking about Christmas with our friends Robin and Sue who own the very lovely Norfolk, a stunningly fitted-out ketch, about Christmas a few weeks ago. Turns out they love Christmas as much as we do and mention was made of how only a few boats down here tended to get decorated and put up lights. ‘Well’ we said, ‘We do!’ and so did they. So we have both had loads of fun with our decorations and with seeking, not so much to out-do each other, as feed each other’s love of the fun that Christmas can be if you are willing to let it! We enjoyed the Christmas Carols put on by the local council on Saturday evening. They were held in the Broadwater Parklands, but Norfolk, anchored near the shore, provided a much cosier spot to listen and then towards the end of the evening, the perfect vantage point to watch the fireworks display from the barge that was only 50 mts away from us! When this year began I had no idea of the unexpected turn of events that would befall us. I had expected a pretty ordinary year with highs and lows and ups and downs. Truth told, I expected more downs than ups and more lows than highs and while I would not have wished the events of February on my worst enemy, I have come to see that not all losses are bad. We have come through this year with flying colours. Many, many good things have come our way – support from so many, excellent friendships, great work done on the boat – by ourselves and the many businesses we have found. We have learned a thing or two and have grown hugely in our confidence and capacity to manage the boat and with Christmas and the end of the year approaching, I can’t help but step back and reflect on how very far we have come. Earlier we hoped we would be able to sail back up to the Whitsundays this year but after the ‘Trawler Incident’ and the lengthy time spent repairing Argos, we lost that opportunity. There was a moment, when we left Boatworks after all the repairs were completed when we still entertained that hope, but in retrospect we really weren’t ready for such a big trip. Looking back, we are all very glad that we didn’t try and travel, we really have had plenty to learn without adding all that could happen on a big trip to the list! We are still waiting to get the steering issues repaired completely, so we have not moved from our anchorage in Bums Bay for the past month or so but it looks as if that will be sorted out soon and we hope to spend many days over the summer trying out some different anchorages. Of course, that depends on Erina and work – she has been able to get a couple of jobs as a deck hand on charter boats – which is fantastic experience for her and she hopes to begin her Coxswains in the coming year. Overall, this year, while often bringing us many unexpected events, losses and incidents has been fantastic. We have really found ourselves in so many ways, established ourselves in the local boating community, joined committees and even featured as ‘Real People of the Gold Coast’. You can read the article on-line at the Gold Coast Bulletin's facebook page. So as Christmas approaches we find ourselves only thankful. Thankful for the many difficulties that came our way that have led us out of our comfort zones and into a stronger, richer, happier 2015 than we could ever have imagined! Merry Christmas to you and if you find yourself on the Gold Coast over the summer, don’t hesitate to call past and say hi! |
Archives
September 2017
Our life aboard Argos has been seriously challenged this year with the surprise departure of our skipper. As a writer, diesel mechanics and the complexities of many aspects of Argos’ on-going maintenance are way beyond me! We would like to see Argos continue to sail and eventually hope to use her to offer support, encouragement and a break to people who are struggling in their lives. Any on-going help towards maintaining Argos would be greatly appreciated and enable us to achieve this goal.
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