Yesterday the mercury broke the all-time record in Sydney, topping out at 117 degrees Fahrenheit. We watched our cockpit thermometer hit 108 in the shade before accepting an invitation from our anchor neighbor to shelter in his air-conditioned boat during the worst of it. When we emerged a few hours later it had cooled down to a more bearable 96 degrees and by sundown we were comfortable again.
Today was again hot, but the shift in wind direction to southerlies brought slightly cooler air and a thundershower and we only reached the high 90s. The rain chased us indoors to watch a movie and when it ended I came out on deck to check our position and the weather. It’s beautiful, a perfect tropical night in the city. Traffic on the ANZAC bridge is thinning, and beyond I can see the flashing red light atop the Sydney Harbour Bridge. About 100′ from our bow groups of two or three stroll the path through the waterfront park. A young couple pushes a pram and dogs lead their owners on the last walk of the day. I can hear muffled laughter from one of the super yachts at the marina on the far side of the bay. Bats fly overhead.
As I wait for the stars to reveal themselves the breeze kicks up and EV pulls back on her anchor chain. The two boats near us do the same and we three swing in the familiar choreography of boats at anchor to the slight change in wind direction.
It’s still warm and I retrieve my yoga mat from the cockpit and do a few sun prayers on the foredeck in the near darkness. By the time I finish the air is starting to chill and I roll up my mat and reluctantly go inside.
Earlier, apropos of nothing I can recall, Jack said, “I love living on a boat.”
I do too.