The Central Coast is renowned for taking an event or concept and running with it. Full steam ahead is generally the motto and Pretty much any excuse will do to call in sick, further procrastinate an assignment or drink during the day. Today was one of those days. And April didn't fool us. Sun, Sand and scuttle party followed suit. The occasion was sinking ship. However the event itself hardly mattered. To be honest, we probably could of sat comfortably watching a piece of dog poo float for 5 hours straight and still experience the same thrill.
The HMAS Adelaide was finally plonked to rest today on the bottom of the ocean floor of the beach I hold dearest to my heart. The N/A. At 10.30am?….no wait 11.30…or maybe it was 12 midday? Initially when the idea was laid on the table some years ago I refused to eat a bar of it, much like I would when faced with a bowl of broccoli or any other green vegetable (as it appears I don't like seeing green OR eating the nasty colour either). I was right alongside the protesters. Preferring the influx of people to flock to another watering hole for scuttle times…ie Umina or Tuggerah Lakes (no offence guys). But Victory was not to be mine and everyone in the office wouldn't let me forget it when the date was finally set and stone this time around. So if you cant beat them join them I say.
On a dingy roof 15 of us lay, with what we thought was the best view in – or for our case on the house. I took into consideration my fathers wise words ; “dont stand on balconys, its days like these they collapse from having too many people on them”, and went one up; to La Roof! The view street residence isn't of the highest OH & S compliance standards. In a short time I have witnessed; beds break, rooms been turned upside down; quite literally, Human hat stands falling to a disastrous death, a backyard with no chance of a precious garden bed blossoming any time soon, man made T pees and a constant laidback lifestyle of a place that so many more friends than official residents feel comfortable calling home. Its one of my favourite things seeing boys in their natural environment and The View Street Hooligans (copyright, watch out T unit) never fail for entertainment. Sitting on a roof feeling superior and mighty was the only way to watch the ship sink. However unsafe I felt. I come to realise that I'm far more at ease concurring heights of the nature kind.
Yesterday Dave and I decided to play tourist and frolic on a lookout trying to get a glimpse of the ‘’sheeeep’’ as we like to call it. Lying on the rock, lazing in the clouds, looking straight down over the cliff feels far more right then being on a man made object to me; strangely enough my knees barely shake. Put me on the roof of a 2 storey house however, and ill kick and scream like a child until my boots firmly touch the ground. Thanks for having us over boys. May the broken tiles forever hold their piece.
They say a picture says a thousand words. But when I see this one all I want to say is BOOOOOOOM.
Gary, as usual, decides to live on the spontaneous side of life and rocks up to the sinking in a kick ass helicopter. (little did I know or I definitely would have hit him up for a lift). When half the bugs; or dragon fly as Tina points out, had to buzz off to refuel (suckers), he was still kicking it, hanging out of his seat with one hand holding on for dear life, the other taking this sweeeet shot. with even enough energy left for a quick dash to Sydney and back. Considering he was one of the bunch lucky enough to take to the air, the copyright is necessary!
So whatever floats your boat, Give it your all.
Or you may as well have gone down with the ship.
I'm herby initiating an official ‘scuttle party public holiday’.
One day every year we get to blow up things. Oversized sombreros are compulsory and so is drinking vodka with breakfast juice*
The only question remains; what can we blow up next???!!
* providing no dolphins get harmed in the process.
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