What are your ‘Lake Names’? - Part 1
(This article is from an older NEWSETTER ARCHIVE)
As the racing fraternity fly past, those of us cruising under sail or paddling along have a bit more time to admire the beauty of the lake and the little bays and inlets, islands, and beaches.
As the water rises the features change and shoreline plains become open bays, narrow channels become wider or places. And as the lake waters recede open channels can become quieter, peaceful little coves. So as the seasons and water levels come and go, spots you may usually just pass by suddenly invite further examination.
My family has sailed and paddled at the lake for 30 years, so have a few stories to tell. As the years go by we have built up a mental list of place names to mark visits or misadventure. Some names are unimaginative, others have a backstory.
With thanks/apologies to Google Maps I have shown a few of the spots we remark about with a brief explanation. I’ll do the Western lake first, and if you read along, please think about what names you have for the places you explore or the landmarks you pass by.
The West:
Cemetery Bay (now out of bounds as a bird sanctuary) is overlooked by the pretty Lake Samsonvale Cemetery. Some readers will recall a group who used to fish one shoreline nearby, one guy wearing a construction helmet and another a conical Asian style hat (among other outfits) - thus Village People Beach. The bay itself is near where the old township of Samsonvale once stood (now submerged). When the water is up this bay reminds me of the lakes on New Zealand’s West Coast, with lush forest to the water’s edge. The cooler microclimate on the southern side of New Zealand Hill is best viewed from the cemetery. It is not such a great idea to tie your boat to one of the drowned trees close to the shore as they are slippery and snap – and scratch boats…
As you sail for home watch out for The Sticks, a line of trees that nearly drown when the water rises, only to return to life in the dry times. What looks like a nice open spot with little black reeds on the water has rudder catching and boat scratching claws beneath.
Wheresmebung is about as far as you can get from the clubhouse in a steady breeze in a Laser with no bung in it. They do still float with holes in them, even old ones like ours. Just not well. And it took ages to drain on the beach. The first rescue boat sailed up and then sailed away to get another with a bung. A long afternoon on a hot day, and then the wind dropped. Not my best work…
As you head to the North, on the Port Side, you’ll pass “The Bloody Rag”. Here is proven again that no good deed ever goes unpunished. My father took out sailing a wonderful man who works with the poor overseas. Sadly, among this man’s many gifts was not memory of the difference between a gybe and a tack. Dad, who has never sworn, said in the Emergency waiting room “Oh no, I have dropped the Bloody Rag”. My appalled sister (with him at the time) had never heard him utter such filth. I explained to her later that it was not some new trait caused by the knock to his head, but it was because he had been a school teacher most of his working life - so he was simply describing the blood/mud-soaked hanky he’d dropped on the clean hospital floor. Earlier, the pickup of both sailors was led by our President Philip Jackson, who, clearly having seen my efforts to get to the capsize, has thought to himself ‘I’ll make that guy treasurer, that will keep him off the water...’.
Life member Cliff is a generous and colourful character at the LSWSA. He is, as are a few of the long-term membership, a bit like the old Geese who wanter the grounds - reasonably harmless but best approached from the front. Generously Cliff sponsors the annual Graeme Heath Winter Marathon in memory of his late brother. The Marathon Styx is where I crewed for Cliff in one such race and ran us into the trees and killed our chances – yes, very kind of you to offer to take me out Cliff, sorry about making you finish last. You can see the spot clearly from the LSWSA foreshore at Clifford’s Point, where any number of Cliff’s boats might be on the water (or pieces thereof on the land).
Jane’s Paddle to the South West is the creek entrance where my late mother used to Kayak in the afternoons while my father ran the at times boisterous Nudgee College Sailing Club at Nudgee Beach in the early 2000s – a bit further South of where our great Junior Learn to Sail program is now set up.
Aluminium is a fairly robust, lightweight metal. That said, anyone who has recently seen my boat mast knows that when subject to stress, aluminium can bend or break. My boat mast was stressed by incompetence - it didn’t like being attached the boat at its bottom and tied to the trailer on shore at its top. [Anyone still reading will see the clear wisdom in President Jackson’s decision I mentioned earlier]. Another stress might be going brittle with age - which in fairness happens to most of us (and a few vessels I see unloved in the boat park). In this case it seems there was some other weakness in the metal which caused a Laser mast to snap clean in the middle, across the joint, leaving a sailor adrift in Half-mast Waters. My Sister and Father were on hand in much older but functioning Lasers to secure the sailor and the boat. I’d love to know the cause of the fault – doesn’t sound common as they have sold a few of those boats over the years.
A few more stories to come next time Tilapia Waft, Fireball Island and The Dutchman’s Cove…