📼 This is an archived record of the 2022–2024 Ride for Hope journey. It is preserved reading, not a live trip — links, forms and dates reflect the original diary.
◍ A Ride for Hope

Australia

On a boat

22 November 2022 Australia

Well… after all that searching, I’m now on a boat! Isn’t it something how “half the story” can sound so much better than “the full story”? You’ve met Allan before – he was very warm and hospitable when he and I first ran into each other on Saturday. In fact he showed me through his yacht, in for maintenance on dry dock. Allan has in fact invited me to stay with him for a bit while I’m hunting for passage. He’s also worked out how he’d get my motorbike on this boat for passage to Timor… if it wasn’t due for a few months’ more maintenance. But I’ve accepted Allan’s kind gesture for several reasons. There’s an obvious cost benefit in being out of a commercial campsite, but more than that this accomodation puts me in and around all the conventions I need to be having each day to find that one elusive wet-season Timor traveller. The yacht is quite lovely, and Allan keeps it pretty ship-shape. I’ve learned that his kids are proud of a 70-year old dad who is still sailing the world. And why not?!

Settling in last night
The bedroom – not bad coming from a tent — Australia.
My bedroom – not bad coming from a tent!
The first sight as the traveller pop the head out of the bedroom – the neighbour’s yacht — Australia.
The first sight as I pop my head out of my bedroom – the neighbour’s yacht
Sunrise at 6 – stunning — Australia.
Sunrise at 6 – stunning
The “elevator”
The open-air clubhouse is quite charming, especially on a morning like this — Australia.
The open-air clubhouse is quite charming, especially on a morning like this

Allan is great company, so on morning one I’m simply grateful for a change of rhythm and better proximity to the “target zone”. I’m still putting posters up in relevant places, and still meeting “people who might know people who might know people”. One day I’ll be on a boat (on the water) and headed NW, but until that day it is still impossible to really know if I am “getting closer” or not. I could have 1,000 conversations that get nowhere, feel like I’m cooked, and then find the 1,001st conversation is the one that gets me on my way. Or maybe I’m just nuts. “You can’t find out how far you can go unless you’re prepared to go too far”. Can’t remember who said that. But it seems relevant. And seems likely to scare my mum. Sorry mum.