Down By The River - Chapter 15 - Mildura & the Houseboat Day 11

DOWN BY THE RIVER

Chapter 15 – Mildura & the Houseboat Day 11

Sleep is something that comes easily to me mostly.

Sleep apnea and I are old friends. When finally diagnosed there were issues with staying awake during the day and the push to remain cognisant even though the body was running on empty. The specialist meeting was a box ticking exercise of the worst kind.

“Do you find yourself having microsleeps during the day” – yes – instances at sets of traffic lights where I would let myself drift knowing I had at least 30 seconds until they went green. That was the first one and then it got worse.

I had done a sleep test where each time breathing stopped in the ”snoring cycle” a blue line on a graph would appear. Mine was a blocked off blue rectangle and according to, and backed up by my wife, I would not only stop (my breathing that is) but remain so for something like 90 seconds at a time. One of the worst reports he had ever seen.

Immediately my drivers licence was suspended. For the next two weeks while I got used to a C-pap machine I would need a driver. That meant Robyn. I am not the best passenger in the world, often resorting to napping while others are driving and add that to the frustration of not being able to simply go when I wanted (or needed) to, made for an interesting time. In fact Robyn ended up ringing the specialist and begging for the licence return well before the 2 week initiation period had finished.

But in that time, I all but instantly felt more alive. My blood pressure had reduced dramatically to a point where medication was no longer required and the need for microsleeps had gone.

But the vagaries of the past had caught up. I’d had several nasal injuries in my youth but the doctor suggested these had no real impact on the present condition.

A girl at school drew blood from both nostrils twice. Michelle Klowers, centre forward for the senior girls hockey team managed to whack my nose twice. Both times her stick at the centre scrimmage managed to slip up the length of mine and clout me flush across the face. Thankfully it was invariably the flat part and not the edge, but both were enough to curtail my game for the day. Having said that I was “laid out” both times much to the hysterical amusement of the crowd – both teams that is.

It was interesting that we played on what were ostensibly football grounds and against opponents that in the country, like us, were representing their schools in multiple sports leaving the finess portion of the game lacking somewhat, bringing the skills from other sports to the game. Although taught to keep the stick below the shoulders often was a time the cricketer in one would come out and the stick would do something like a 360 degree arc at the ball. Having said that I was never as gun shy to attack an opponent on the hockey field as I was playing against the senior girls side at Boorowa Central.

What was the big issue was once winning a first round match in the school boy competition against a local school like Young, we invariably went to Orange or Bathurst for the second round and playing on bowling green prepared or synthetic pitches, our trapping method expecting unexpected bounce was trounced and we would miss the ball continually, making us easy prey. 

Another nose injury occurred in a semi final of the Cook Cup. Unusually for a finals game where neutral venues were used, this particular game we headed to our opponents town of Lithgow. There on a flint hard football field we took on the locals in what was a loss for us, and a more than bruising encounter with brutal defence being king. They had a centre, (my opposite number on that day) who ran with a disconcertingly high knee lift. One of this knees plastered my nose across my face as I attempted a tackle making the Red V on the white of our jerseys resemble a merged blood stained river. I had mistimed a lunge at his midriff and the knee was all I caught. 

Knocked out in the tackle, I regained consciousness and resumed but if it were today with its head knock protocols, I would have not even played the next game with the searing headache I was experiencing and the coughing of blood that ensued. But the game was delicately poised and a win would mean a second chance at a grand final against the old foe from the previous year, Peak Hill Central School.

It was not to be and we went on to play in the consolation final where we were summarily handed a thrashing, having lost some of the verve for the game not being in the “big dance”.

There was another incident where my nose was opened up by a fist but that’s a story for another time.

Having said I sleep easily, I also tend to wake early. It doesn’t take much, an increase in light from the rising sun, a movement from the houseboat as another vessel passes or even the snoring of my wife getting a little louder, but I am usually up early and with fishing to be done, there is incentive. 

This morning, there is carnage everywhere. Without the distraction and protection of the bug zapper, last night the gnats have worked out; they actually fit through the mesh door and have taken up position all over the walls of the dining area. Spray can in hand I go into battle. 

By the time the others arise there is only mopping up to do. 

If one was extremely keen, the dead bodies would be accumulated and munched into bait for the fish, but I couldn’t be bothered feeding good quality bait to carp.

Now feeding ourselves good quality tucker, now that’s a horse of a different colour, and that colour is the green of the lawns at Trentham Estates Winery. A daughter of my cousin works weekends there and we are keen to not only dine, but catch up with her as well. 

Taleah is on duty in the wine tasting area which is opportune for us as we are all Trentham Estate Club Members and as luck would have it, out of wine on the houseboat. We laugh and joke with Taleah as we run through the wine list of varieties we have enjoyed previously and sample some of the cheese platters used at tastings.

She asks a supervisor to join us and bring wines, not on the testing list, for our trying. We are well and truly “in the mood” for lunch by the time the testing is done. She also suggests we leave the houseboat tied up to the jetty for the night as the restaurant is closed Monday and Tuesday and we will not be moved on. The internet is much better here as well.

Another day, another Trentham lunch. All is good on the river. There have been calls during the day. My son Julian is in negotiations for the sale of his unit and seeks our advice from time to time.On our return, a visit will be required to assist him with beautification and rectification works needed to attract the best possible price. But that’s later, for now we eat, drink and be merry.

Uniquely positioned on the jetty of Trentham with the stern of the boat facing the west, the sunset is a conglomeration of all the setting hues. The bright yellows, turning through the ochres to eventually, the darkness of the night and the stars opposite a rising full moon.

Peace and serenity, stilted by the zap, of the not so silent killer of the night. We will not be having a mop up session in the morning like today.