Kijana (4 page)

Josh was my next selection. Not long after I met him the pair of us joined another of his mates, Jules, and headed to Queensland in an attempt to make a documentary on Schoolies' Week, the annual migration of school leavers to the Gold Coast. He'd proven to be a capable cameraman, so when it came time to choose someone to do that job he was my first and only choice. Josh was over at my flat fiddling with the TV and I was putting some dishes away when I broached the subject.

‘Hey Josh, you know how I need a cameraman for the trip? Well, would you like to come and be that person?'

He stuck his head around the corner with a petrified look on his face. ‘What? Tell me you're joking. Are you joking?'

I smiled a huge grin and said no, I was serious. I wasn't sure if he was about to cry as he walked into the study and stuck his head near the window. ‘I need some fresh air,' he said. There was no need for Josh to say anything else. I knew he'd signed on.

I now had a writer and a cameraman. The third crew position would be filled by my brother Beau.

At first glance, we didn't appear to be the closest of brothers, as we had very different personalities, but we had a deep respect for each other. We also carried the strong bond from the experiences we'd shared, having seen our parents separate when we were young. The separation affected Beau and me differently. I was shy and conservative and was too scared of confrontation to get into trouble at school, instead escaping into my head with dreams of adventures. Beau was the opposite, getting into all sorts of trouble as he dealt with his demons, being booted out of school for smoking marijuana and being caught stealing stuff.

This, of course, had caused considerable grief for Mum, and being the eldest son, I felt compelled to take him away from the distractions of home. I figured if I could get him away and give him some of the experiences I had had on
Lionheart
, at least he could then make his own life choices from there.

But there were also more practical reasons why I chose him. He knew how to take a great photo and cook a good meal, having trained as a chef. And after sailing the small catamaran with Dad along the Queensland coast when we were kids, as well as our sea kayak expedition together in Papua New Guinea, I knew he would perform when it mattered, that I could trust him in a crisis. He may have driven me mad at times, but I knew I could live with him.

To me, it was a young dream team – Mika was the oldest, at 23, Beau was 18, I had just turned 20 and Josh was nearly 21.

The four of us flew to Queensland to inspect the boat I was considering buying. I wanted to see their reaction to what could be our home for up to three years. Beau made a beeline for the kitchen, while Josh joked that we should change her name from
Integrity
to
No
Integrity
. Mika spent her time quietly looking around, imagining what it was going to be like sailing the world on such a craft.

I boarded the plane home even more convinced that it was the boat for us. The others knew nothing about boats, so I went to great lengths to explain that she was sturdy and had a good layout compared to most boats I'd seen. I must have been convincing, for they were soon converts to the obvious merits of the boat.

As a 54-footer, she could easily accommodate five crew, so the search was on for our final member. The thinking on the role of the fifth member had started to change. What was becoming more important than finding a grease monkey was to find someone who could help get our message to a wider audience. That meant turning to the world's biggest market – the United States. If we could get an American on board it could really open some doors.

We advertised the crew position on our website, with applicants asked to answer questions and send in a video of themselves. The news that we were looking for a crew member spread, and applications began to pour in from around the globe.

Each time we received a little red ticket informing us a package had arrived someone would race to the post office; then we'd eagerly gather around to watch the applicant's video. Some people were totally wacky, others were shocking, even going so far as to leave some rather suggestive offers towards the captain, while others took a more conventional approach, talking directly to the camera. The advertisement on our website stipulated that applicants must be aged 18 to 23, but that didn't deter many applicants aged well into their forties from putting forward the case for experience.

We had a difficult decision ahead of us, for we were still not sure what we were looking for. We preferred a girl, but it wasn't a prerequisite; we wanted someone who acted normal in front of the camera, yet they had to have an interesting personality; they had to be easy to live with, but how the hell could we determine that from a three-minute tape; and they had to be willing to try new things, for which we could only take their word. We desperately hoped somewhere among those little red tickets would lie the perfect crew member.

One day, it appeared our hopes had come true.

Josh had grabbed the mail early and watched the tapes before the rest of us. When we arrived, he said there was a tape we should take a look at. It was sent by a girl called Nicolette, from Michigan in the United States. I was getting to know that if Josh was excited, it was a pretty good recommendation. As a female American, she'd already passed a couple of major hurdles.

We gathered together to watch her tape. She was driving in her car talking to her friend who held the camera. On the car radio was a song that I liked. She took us on a tour of her home town, which was called Hell. We all thought this was pretty funny. She had long brown hair and a great laugh. At the conclusion of the tape she sat on her couch with some soft music in the background. She looked into the lens as it zoomed in on her face and told us: ‘I'm at a point in my life when I have to make decisions and, well, this just feels right for me'.

As a group we sat there, awestruck as the tape ended and the screen went to blue. We all believed her.

Things were really rolling by this stage. We successfully negotiated to buy
Integrity
for $285,000 in September 2001, immediately changing her name to
Kijana
. The excitement was palpable as Dad, Beau, Josh and I sailed her out of Brisbane, bound for Melbourne, where she would undergo her transformation to an around-the-world adventurer. It was the first time Josh had sailed and the first time Beau had been offshore. It was also my first time on the water since the solo trip, and it felt just right. I'd almost forgotten the sensation of a yacht leaning with a full sail of wind.

She sailed just as I had imagined – with direction and confidence. No wonder she'd been named
Integrity
. I remember being pleased at how little she pitched over the swell, due to her length.
Lionheart
, at only 34 feet, would have had us rocking up and down with every small wave. She definitely felt like a sturdy traveller, one that would easily carry a novice crew around the world.

Back in Melbourne, my days were busy but the nights were becoming increasingly lonely. I had the best group of friends, but on weeknights I would arrive home alone after a busy day feeling that something was missing. Of course, I'd spent many nights alone on
Lionheart
, but I'd never felt deprived of human contact because those were the rules of my record attempt. But since returning, something had changed. On one hand I deeply valued my own space, yet I craved to be close to someone just as much. I had never had a girlfriend before because I'd always felt so inadequate impressing the opposite sex. But now that I was 20 I had the sudden urge to bite the bullet and give the girlfriend thing at least a go.

I would never had thought to try my chances with Maya had it not been for Chocko's encouragement, so I asked him to track down her number from one of her friends. By the time she got my message on her phone asking her out to dinner, I assumed she knew I was chasing her. Luckily, she still said yes. I wanted her to say she was free the following evening, but the date was set for her to come over to dinner at my flat later in the week.

The day of our dinner-date finally arrived and I was as nervous as hell. I'd seen her a few times since her birthday, but always in the company of friends. I chopped the onions and had the oil warming in the pot while I waited for her to be dropped off by a friend. She was 15 minutes late, even though she lived just around the corner. God, those 15 minutes dragged on.

Finally the intercom rang, jolting me out of the ‘she's not coming' routine. I turned up the heat on the stove, dumped the onions in the pot and casually opened the door as if I had forgotten she was coming. By the time she came up the stairs, a fantastic smell was wafting through my flat, giving her the impression that I was an accomplished chef instead of a nervous wreck.

The encounter was uncomfortable at first. In fact, it was uncomfortable for most of the night. Maya leaned up against the kitchen doorway while I busied myself with the cooking. Even through the smoke she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I desperately wanted to watch her as she spoke but I couldn't bring myself to stare for very long. Instead, I had to settle with making a vegetarian sauce.

I wanted to tell her she was as beautiful as her namesake – Maya Bay in Thailand – one of the places I dreamed of visiting on
Kijana
, and the location of the Leonardo DiCaprio film
The Beach
. But that would have been a bit forward so early into our first date.

The next two hours were spent discovering more about each other. I prayed she hadn't discovered that I stare a lot. At the end of the evening there was no goodbye kiss, not that I expected it. In fact, I would have been embarrassed at not knowing what to do next if we had kissed. It was an awkward night but something about the nervousness made me feel alive and I couldn't wait to catch up again.

Early the next morning Mika, Josh, Beau and I gathered around the speaker phone as the international number for Michigan was dialled. It was late at night for Nicolette and she was more than a little shocked to hear from us, but she sounded very pleased. She said she liked playing guitar and singing. Mika asked if she would sing for us. She took a few moments and sang a bluesy song amid the heckling of her family in the background. I put my captain's hat on and explained that we expected to go through some hard times out on the water. We'd be covered in salt for days on end and have to live on a schedule of night watches and catnaps. We'd be seasick and homesick and there'd be storms and fights. She confidently told us she knew what such a trip would involve and she was still determined to join us. We all felt she was the perfect choice.

The following week we told her she'd been short-listed even though we knew she was the one.

I continued to eagerly pursue Maya. We were becoming more comfortable in each other's company, until we did what I had dreamt of for so long – we kissed each other. Not a goodbye peck, but a full-on kiss, just like in the movies.

I was sitting on the couch at my place and the conversation about the movie we'd been watching had run dry. She was sitting on the carpet but I wanted her next to me. I didn't know what to do so I decided to go for it the only way I could think of – I grabbed the doona off the couch and pulled it over my head to form a tent.

I asked her, in a slightly muffled voice, if she'd like to join me.

‘What for?' she asked.

‘So we can kiss,' I replied. (You're embarrassed. How do you think I feel writing this!)

I stuck my head out from under the doona to see her blushing. She was sitting dead still, facing away from me. My eyes followed her line of sight, to the imaginary spot on the wall she was staring at. A few moments passed until I spoke again. ‘Well, do you want to come under here or not?'

Thankfully she said yes, but I could tell she was embarrassed. She still refused to look at me, so I explained that was why I had the doona – so we couldn't see each other. I reached down and helped her onto the couch. With a flick of the doona we were in complete darkness. It was the first time I'd kissed a girl while sober. It was an amazing feeling and my embarrassment soon passed, allowing me to concentrate on the subtleties of the experience. It felt nice and warm and she tasted as pure as she looked.

After a few weeks I noticed how I became a different person when I spent time around her. Often I'd break into a stupid impromptu dance of excitement when I saw her. It was childish but I didn't care. I really looked forward to the simple things when I saw her – the sound of her voice, her expressions, her timidity, even the way she said my name. I loved everything about her.

Of course, overshadowing this feeling of euphoria was the fact that I would be leaving in three months on a three-year voyage around the world. Also, she was already locked into spending several months on a long-planned working holiday to Canada, departing in a little over a month.

The thought did cross my mind more than once that Maya could perhaps be our fifth crew member, despite the fact she'd never brought up the possibility of joining us. However, I didn't have the guts to front the crew and office team with the suggestion to bring my brand new girlfriend on board. And I knew we were promoting Kijana as an adventure trip, not a cruise aboard the Love Boat.

Two months after our first date, I saw Maya off at the airport and, for the first time, I saw her cry. She was trying hard not to let me see her tears, putting her head on my shoulder and holding me tight.

I didn't know what to say. If all went to plan she'd be back in a few months, by which time I'd be sailing the world.

I wished her well, then she turned and walked through those awful airport doors that seem to swallow people and break hearts.

I immediately threw myself into preparations for the trip. I sold my car and commandeered Dad's old Valiant, then listed my flat for sale. Everything I had was going towards my ultimate dream. Besides, I wouldn't need a car or a place to live –
Kijana
would soon be my new home. I also liked the idea of getting rid of my ‘stuff', and streamlining my life.