Written 5 May, 2020
A day at first of triumph, and then, disaster- almost. We boated to Homers Cafe for our glorious food box, ending my empty cupboard phobia. Never again will i fear starvation, I swear, till next time. .Where did it come from , this fear? We were very poor as kids because my father was an artist and was compelled to spend his days in front of canvases that wouldn’t sell. We were true believer, but always hungry, and cold, and connect winter winds and hollow feelings. I can’t believe what I see – Homer’s is using its own suppliers, so everything in our box is vast, restaurant sizes- fennel seeds and coriander seeds in 2 kg packs; the pack of soda bicarb I’ll leave to K in my will; the cabbage is as large as two human heads put5.t together and it could’ve won first prize at the Royal Easter Show.
We’d berthed at DB’s and B helped us off with our rubbish (I haven’t explained you that being so remote, we must take get rid of our own rubbish, that which can’t be composted or burnt).B was looking particularly stretched thin and I asked him what he had in his fridge. Beer. Any food? More beer. So at the marina, where we’d gone for gas, I bought him 2 packets of sausages- for Brutus, the bouncing dog, I told him when he looked embarrassed. The tide went down while we picking up the food, and the boat got impaled on an old pylon, just under the water, but amazing DB just appeared as ever when he’s needed, levered the boat, weighing a ton at least. and shook it free.
All this took most of the day. Dy came for a yarn, and I’m very pleased he feels free too. hesaid he was running out of water, as we are. Rain isn’t predicted till Friday week. A, our builder neighbour who’s built a simple but adorable house, arrived with his young pretty wife I’d never met- she’s always been looking after aged parents. They’d come “for a while”.
I want to bake her a welcome cake, but don’t know anymore how to do proper ones with gluten. A is very strong, and GG asked him to carry up our big gas bottle, which i can’t even budge off the boat.
Then we saw that a mysterious black fish had swum into the trap, an ugly black evil-looking thing with a groper mouth. As GG removed it, it struck back, spiking him with its quill. He tried not to scream but he was white with pain and groaning for hours, poisoned. My vegetarian friends tell me fish just flip about living sweet and happy lives, but they’re as cruel to each other as us, lacerating and eating bits out of each other, poisoning each other.
I won’t die, says GG. through gritted teeth. I’m much larger than a fish. He’s one of those men who keep saying It’s nearly over, its nearly over: He said that when I was giving painful birth to K, and i believed him!
I was scrambling to find the helicopter ambulance number when K remembered the phone service Health Direct- we’ve used it for advice for her several times.
We’d sent a pic of the fish to F and S, and they’d identified it as a rock cod. Unbelievably the nurse on Health Direct knew exactly what to do with a rock cod “wound” – she didn’t even have to look it up. To de-nature the poison, Immerse his finger for 20 minutes in water as hot as he could stand. Immediate relief. I told her she was wonderful. She said she was just doing her job.
Now GG is sleeping like a baby and tt’s a double whisky and chocolate in front of the fire for me, hoping that the night is quiet.
