Earthquakes, floods, shootings, vomiting, 2011 could rival a chapter in revelations for the drama and intrigue.
In fact I reckon those doomsday cults in the US who have predicted that the world is going to be in 2012 might be on to something.
Even more reason to be going sailing. Or is it?
As a worst case scenarioist I spend a lot of time planning what I would do in various potentially dangerous situations. For example, right now, it is currently gusting 120kms in Kelburn, there are old pine trees very close to our window that are swaying A LOT. It is within the realm of possibility that they could fall through our windows into our lounge shattering glass everywhere, compromising the structural integrity of our house and cutting me off from Dashkin’s room. I could be left dangling on a bit of splintered timber while my infant son is inches away from being impaled. Luckily I have thought all of this through and have a plan at the ready.
You can imagine I am having an absolute field day thinking about the coming months. Oh yes this particular scenario is a worst case scenarioist’s paradise. You have all the elements needed to really get your imagination going; small child- check, unpredictable natural world -check, high potential for illness and accidents check, possibility of tsunami ( this is my biggest fear, so big I have dreams about it, and yes I do know what Freud says about large bodies of water appearing in your dreams)- check, large mammals – check, potential for being in a situation where canibalism may be an option- check.
It is exhausting and has totally shot my adrenal system so a couple of weeks ago I decided to take action against this sea of troubles and become a marine radio operator.
Armed with Safety in a Small Craft, a pamphlet about the ionosphere and a grade 8 Speech and Drama certificate I took myself off to meet Dave and get qualified.
Not content with just a VHS qualification I wanted an international SSB one too.
We met on a wet and windy night in that hexagonal building down at Evans Bay Marina. After some quick introductions it was straight to the kettle for a cup of tea. Dave has big mugs. Then me and the four other gents on the course got busy. We Maydayed, we Pan paned we alpha, bravo, charlied, we learnt about the revered channel 16, we had more tea, we got our head around radio waves bounces all over the earth, and we learnt the most important lesson of all – how to turn your radio on.
Three gruelling hours later, high on chocie bickies and too many cups of tea we emerged. Qualified.
Which was lucky as sometimes things are sent to try us.
Like our dodgy toaster that caught fire the next morning. This was no pan pan situation. This was a MAYDAY. We are talking flames licking the ceiling, evacuation, fire extinguishers, we are talking tea, not just milkly tea but hot tea with sugar and a five-day clean up.
This was a total meltdown of my adrenal system. Luckily my stepdaughter Nina, enacted my plan. She grabbed Dash and ran like wildfire.
Needless to say the marine fire extinguishers have been ordered and are en route to Aruba.
Papa, hotel, echo, whiskey.