As you can see, this article is growing of its own volition!

For those of you were are following this blog, you know I am writing about a trip I took several years back, but that trip, obviously very fresh in my mind, was filled with examples of serendipity. Oftentimes, I went looking for one thing and found something different and much better.

From New Zealand, I landed in Sydney and spend a day there before my next flight across the country to Perth. For those who do not know, I should note that Australia is about the same dimensions as the US; it’s just more of a diamond shape. So, when I flew cross country, it was akin to flying from Boston to LA, a long flight. Oz has states, too, but just six of them plus ACT, their capitol district.

On the west coast in Western Australia (WA), I picked up my rental car and drove to the university to meet up with my daughter. We did the usual sightseeing over untold miles over the next week I was there, including visiting an animal park and quietly holding a koala bear, enjoying the wine country and artisans of the Margaret River area, being awed by the huge karri trees (note the similarity in spelling to the NZ kauri trees) of Pemberton, including climbing the nearly-200-foot (61 meters) Gloucester Tree with incredible views from the cabin near the tip, and boating on the Swan River.

I also had to process my assignment from North Island and send it back to the States. I called Roger, the first person on my list of fellow association members in WA. Not only was I invited to make unlimited use of his studio and office, but he personally introduced me to the owner of one of the best labs in the country so I could get my film processed (yes, this was back in the days of film). I also got recommendations on the best way to ship the slides back to the client. FedEx wasn’t a big international presence then.

“By the way,” my host said, “We are having a gathering this evening in Freo (Fremantle) of some of the top shooters in OZ who are judging a national photo contest. Would you like to join us?” Silly question; of course I would, and so, I found myself sipping wine with a great group of interesting people from all over the country. We talked shop; we talked politics; we talked social issues; we talked travel; we poured over dozens of photographs; and we consumed more than a bottle or two of some very fine Aussie wines!

Our gathering lasted into the wee hours of the morning, and I came away with names of people I “must call when getting into the area.” The members of the group were amazed that I didn’t have a firm itinerary, that my mode of travel was quite loose, and that along the way, I was looking for wooden boats and boat building, among other things.

Meanwhile, I crewed in a sailboat race on the Zigeuner, A 1938 yawl who was considered the fastest 12-meter in her day. I was subsequently invited out on a boat for a terrific, close-up, water view of an Italian festival that included a delightfully ludicrous race across the harbor in some very dubiously built craft.

I went out to Rotto, short for Rottnest Island, to see the enchanting, tiny qoakas, the smallest of the roo family. I also visited the boat yard where the replica of James Cook’s HMB Endeavor was being built. Below this article, you’ll see a shot I did of the naval architect on the project.

I went through dozens of rolls of film, as you might imagine, and enjoyed my visit with my daughter and her friends. I went primarily to see my daughter and take in a few sights and came away with experiences and photographs that I never thought possible in that stretched week. I called to find a lab, and not only found a good friend, but I met some very interesting people and got suggestions for all sorts of things to see, both in WA and across the whole country. Serendipity again.

My next stop was Adelaide, where a lot of wooden boats are built in the hills above the city and at least two hours from the ocean where some of them would see a lot of use. I called a couple of the photographers I had met who knew about my quest for anything to do with wooden boats, and they recommended a firm that was affiliated with Wooden Boat Magazine in Maine.

“Come on over and join us for a spot of tea,” was the Rob’s response when I called and introduced myself. So, armed with directions, I headed up into the Adelaide Hills. Four well-stained boat builders were sitting around on saw horses, barrels, or whatever, enjoying not only tea, but sandwiches and goodies, and they had plenty for me. I grew up sailing my dad’s wooden boat, a 40-foot long Concordia yawl named Tabakea (TA-ba-KEE-a, alas, now called “Rowdy”), so we had lots in common, including an appreciation for fine craftsmanship.

“Where are you staying?”

“I thought I might find a local B&B,” I replied.

“Nonsense, we have a guest room, and we’d love to have you stay with us.” And so, I spent a delightful few days with my new friends, photographing the assorted craft they built, including a small cedar strip canoe and sailing skiff. They had to lure me out of the little canoe with the promise of a pint of stout, as I was just having so much fun in it, using it as a base for photographing one of the boat builders. (See photo below.)

“Are you heading down to K.I.?”

“What’s that?”

“Kangaroo Island and the home to a great national park with sea lions. With your love of animals, you would really enjoy it and get some great photos. In fact, I’ve already called my brother,” Rob continued, “and he and his wife are really looking forward to meeting you.”

It was an invitation too good to resist. So I headed down to K.I. with the promise I would return to the Adelaide Hills for one last night before heading out along the Great Ocean Road to Melbourne.

K.I. was all that was promised, and with the permission and encouragement of a national park ranger, I sat amongst sea lions on the beach. I barked to the animals (don’t laugh) and they came ever closer. I got some wonderful close-ups that were published in a number of international magazines, textbooks, and coffee-table books.

My boat-building hosts also knew someone over in Port Lincoln on the Eyre Peninsula who chartered sailboats in and around Boston Bay, so I hitched a ride in the co-pilot’s seat in a Saab puddle jumper flown by a superb pilot who did the smoothest crab landing in near-gale-force cross winds that I have ever experienced, and I have experience quite a few over the years.

My host, Ross, and his wife met me at the airport, and boarded one of his Beneteaux (not wooden) and sailed out to Boston Island to look at the fabulous view from the top and the monument erected there to Matthew Flinders, noted explorer and cartographer, who “discovered” the area. We also visited a small wooden-boat-building operation that was music to my visual eye.

When I returned to Adelaide, I was introduced to Jeff Mincham, a raku artist of international note, and I got to photograph him and his beautiful creations in his studio and house.

Again, I went for wooden boats and came away with that plus sea lions, raku, and a plethora of wonderful experiences. From Jeff, I also got a recommendation to visit with some good friends of his in Robe along the south coast of South Australia.

Part IV to be continued next Friday (This article has taken on a life of its own!)