A stunning sunny day on Sydney Harbour in the summer of 1970. Blue water sparkling like millions of sapphires. Yachts, cruisers, ferries traversing the magical scene.
I was off on a romantic adventure to travel from Watsons Bay Wharf across the harbour to Lavender Bay on a date with my relatively new boyfriend.
As my ‘chariot’ arrived I was struck by the fact it was a small, aluminium dinghy with a scout at the tiller, and four cub scouts on board.
My date, the scout master, had decided to multitask, giving the boys an opportunity to earn their badges while he took me on a romantic date on the harbour.
Leaving the wharf, I was already nervous as I’m not a fan of water sports but decided to give this travel experience a try. With such an unexpected start to the day surely it would turn out fun and could only improve!
Puttering across the water, skimming on the wake of other much larger vessels and taking in the beauty of the views, I started to relax and enjoy myself. The boys chattered excitedly and Colin, the scout in charge of navigation was funny, and extremely proud of his prowess at the tiller.
My mother always said ‘pride cometh before a fall’. That’s when it all went wrong!
The air was suddenly filled with shouts of, ‘GET OUT OF THE WAY!’ ‘GIVE WAY!’ The white bow of a huge yacht was just meters from our dinghy.
Colin tried to change course, but it was all too late. The cubs somehow managed to claw their way up the side of the yacht to safety as it ploughed straight over the top of our rapidly capsizing craft. Before I knew it, I was under the dinghy and someone was pulling me out and up to cling onto the wreck. Small cruisers came out of nowhere and strong arms lifted me out of the water to safety.
My date and Colin, the young scout, managed to pull themselves onto the cruiser and we were all taken to Shark Beach at Nielsen Park. The rest of the day is blur. Maybe I’ve expunged it from my memory as it certainly wasn’t the travel experience I thought it would be.