I received my flights out of New Zealand late last night. This final formality has released a wee bit of pressure. If I was to write a posthumous pastiche to this period… it would be a long series of pauses…..

A heartfelt thank you for the comments and messages.

I have not been OK.

Rehoming Dragons is fraught with danger it appears. I first noticed this when I had to repatriate Puff. His first home enquired about cutting his base flat so he would stand freely. He is always leading forward. He was then put outside under a tarp. I promptly liberated him and took him on a Thelma and Loiuseque road trip.

At his next stop, he was hidden away in case the dog tried to chew him. He came out for a party.

Do you see him?

When Guests enquired about painting or changing him. He promptly fell tactically maiming them.

Puff has managed to survive 4x shifts this year and so shall I!

You see. Dragons tend to dominate proceedings without even trying but we absolutely HATE being told what to do. We are hopelessly addicted to flattery and therein lies your angle if you are of a mind to brood.

So through a seismic shift and subsequent lockdown, I remained in an unfriendly environment until….

I evicted myself on Father’s Day. The irony of this is not lost upon me but the new moon is more cosmic.

My new lair will suffice until the 17th when I shall embolden myself with a laborious quest of goodbyes until I depart by air of course.

I do not have a return window at the moment. This is an odd sensation, but for the first time in a long time I am not of a mind to worry about things that have not happened.

That image is a plant called Celastrus Scandens also known as American Bittersweet. If you google image search Bittersweet you get a whole lot of the Verve and not much else.

My once forever home sale settles today. I had wanted to get a little video of everything before I said goodbye but a busy move laid waste to my plans.

But, as luck would have it I had to visit the old place today to retrieve some chairs and a table. The Barstools have been rehomed and the table will burn in good time.

Bittersweet is a word that a couple of good friends sent to me last week. It is a bit more bitter than sweet. I would go as far as to say I feel a bit bittertart. Somebody stop me.

Anyway here is said video. Many of you visited 117. I wish more of you could have but such is life.


8/10 NZ Marriages end in Divorce and whilst the ordeal is survivable I do not recommend it. I have spent the last week wallowing in a mire of boxes, packing tape and nostalgia. On Monday I had a glazier visit to replace a broken window. We had a cursory chit chat before I left him to his own devices. I said it had been a turbulent time and not all that pleasant. This chap had been ten years divorced and he had these wise words.

Focus on the shit times. Forget about the good ones and when in doubt make some more shit ones.


There is a lot to be said for saying very little at all.

As challenging as it sounds.

Today I did a first. A herculean task. I got a phone number.

Now getting phone numbers has probably been supplanted with tattooed QR codes, TIKTOK profiles or whatever is en vogue. But having never got a phone number from anyone in a traditional sense I was quite proud of myself and this is the tale.

Below Deck has managed to lower the already sunken opinions most Mariners have of Yachties. Before they thought we did all of our work drunk/hungover or both. Now they have seasons of evidential television to watch (jealously).

Therefore it is highly likely the only two Yachties on a maritime course would find a life boat(desk) to cling to.

Anyway, I had long and enthralling conversations over two days on a multitude of topics with a highly intelligent beauty. With plenty of nice things in common. A curse of the golden handcuffs is only Yachties *get* Yachties. We righted life rafts, put out fires and finished inside a shipping container full of AFFF foam.

Anyway with the course drawing to a close I really felt like I needed to kindle more of these conversations. But how?

“So umm would you like to talk more rubbish sometime?”

“Are you asking me for my number?

“Why, yes”

“I love talking rubbish”

And so the seed was sown.

Note to selves. If wit is your best attribute, find quiet places to marinate it in and stay salty.

Person of interest. When you read this, I hope you have enjoyed some of my written rubbish :-).