Bats, boats and bangs

Ooh it was hard, having to laze in the early evening sunshine, looking out over the bridge and the opera house. Watching the waves lapping, the increasing number of helicopters buzzing, and most entertaining of all – the M25 scale traffic jam in the harbour building up. Everything from one man kayaks to tall ships were gathering, in absolute pandemonium. The water was getting very chopped up, and we ooohed and ahhhed at the near misses. There seemed little order, though a rough system emerged. You zoom up, have a look at the Queen Mary, come out, then mill around the harbour waiting for the QE2 to arrive. The wake from some of the larger boats was proving very rough on some of the smaller ones; they just sat sliding up and down the waves making no real progress at all. Everyone who could get access to the water was on it.

Once the number of helicopters was up to 14, I saw a plume of fumes over the trees in the distance, and She was on her way in. The use of ‘she’ for boats caused some confusion for Jenna.

Jen: “who is she queen of?”

Mum: “well, she is named after the Queen of England.”

Jen: “when she was alive, could she talk?”

Mum: “the Queen is still alive, but this is a boat.”

Jen: “did she used to be a lady?”

Mum: “no, she has always been a boat.”

Jen: “is she a boat then?”

And so on. It reminded me of a conversation we had en famille at the airport, talking about the rest of the trip. “And then we go to Hong Kong!” says Joe, enthusiastically.

“Is that the one with the big gorilla?” enquires Jen, seriously.

“No darling that’s King Kong.”

“Yeah and it wasn’t even filmed in Hong Kong!” chips in Rhys.

“So … we’re going to King Kong?” and on … and on …

But back to the boats. Or rather, enormous ships. It was quite a moment seeing the QE2 round the headland, to huge applause. The fire boat leading her in was letting off its rather powerful sprinklers, causing impromptu rainbows and also clearing a tiny bit of space for this massive vessel to sail into, dead slow. The sheer boat traffic was unbelievable: hardly a foot of water was unoccupied. Looking to both shores, hardly an inch of grass or pavement was unoccupied by crowds, as far as the eye could see.

As the QE2 came alongside the Queen Mary, she saluted with her very low, booming hooter (Joe and I are not very good on nautical terms!) The crowd were extremely appreciative, as were all the little boats. The air was now thick with ‘copters and we waved frantically at all the cameramen sitting on the edge. Oh, except for Jenna who told them off soundly “You are very naughty helicopters! You must shut your doors or they will fall out!”

The QE2 eventually reached the harbour bridge, where Jenna’s troubles were multiplied. “It’s going to get brokened!” she said. I assured her that it would fit under, no trouble, it was just perspective (though I must admit it did look to me like there was no way that funnel would clear). At the last moment she executed a three pointer and backed into berth just behind the Opera House, before the bridge. Joe and I wondered whether she had those reverse warning beepers you get on rubbish lorries “caution: exceptionally large boat reversing … caution: exceptionally large boat reversing” or indeed whether Mrs Captain had jumped out onto the quay and was backing her husband in: “right hand down a bit … straighten up! Straighten up!”

Even with all those thousands watching and with or without the help of Mrs. captain, the captain did a very nice bit of parking. The sun was starting to set, and the crowds starting to move. Now, we’d heard there might be fireworks, and we were pretty sure Sydney would not want to be outdone by Auckland. We were however exhausted, having got to the airport at 6.30am, gained 2 extra hours of daylight and flown across the Tasman Sea. So we moved a little closer to the Opera House and gave it till 8.45 for the fireworks to show, or else it was bedtime. 8.45 came, and thankfully, so did the fireworks. So, too, did the cockatoos, much to our amazement! Flocks of them took over from the bats and settled all around us in the trees.

The fireworks were great, but then this is Sydney: they’re getting pretty good at it having had the millennium and the Olympics on which to practise. Rowan bewailed their effect on the ozone and also muttered that they were coming much too close, but the rest of us just loved them. The city was beautiful at night, and the fireworks illuminated the hundreds of boats still out in the harbour. It was unbelievable. Jenna commented that the fireworks were even bigger (note: she did NOT say better) than Jon’s. High praise indeed.

A first day in a city could not be better, really! True, there was the drag of trying to leave with all the crowds and the hour’s walk home, some of which Jenna did literally asleep on Joe, and Rhys did almost asleep, at least valiantly trying to walk with his eyes closing and his feet dragging. There was, of course, not a taxi nor bus to be had. Rowan was an absolute trooper, keeping going, and keeping up a high-speed monologue as she often does when tired. But nothing could dim the magic of our first day in Sydney. Jolly good show, chaps. Do keep it up.