Jess was making less than subtle gestures at the pancake mix, so I put the book down and cooked them up. Jess was very excited but not as excited as Tilly who got the second, perfectly round pancake. In a matter of only a few minutes I was getting quite good at adding water to the mix, shaking the container and pouring the contents into the frying pan.
The kids then played in the water park and swam while I organised a new awning to meet us in Broome, and took care of some other business on the phone.
There's an old fella here named Allan who has the same model F Truck as we do, so I have been interested to chat with him and get a few tips about them. He has owned 5 and reckons they are bullet proof - I told him ours has been anything but bullet proof so far. It's obvious from the couple of times I have spoken with him that Allan has a wealth of knowledge but he is a bit hard to keep on topic. For every little gem of advice about F Trucks you have to put up with 20 minutes of varying topics including his family tree, and numerous references to his mate Steve from Port Lincoln who I think I am meant to know.
So Allan (...Allan...Allan ....Allan ) pulled up at our camp this morning quoting .... Steve (it's gold!). I wanted to get straight to some F Truck advice but we ended up talking about his toilet. He went into great detail to explain that the better caravan parks have jets in their drop off tanks which break up any solids that might still be in your Dunny. He then pointed to his little tank on the back of his ute and I realised he was on his way to empty his porta loo. I'm sure both he and his wife are lovely people but the thought of their stools taking a leisurely drive through the caravan park was enough to put me off breakfast.
My hour long conversation and several more references to Steve earned a couple more gems of information which I'll store in the memory bank.
Trying now desperately to peel away from Allan because the kids and Caroline are back from a swim (and we need to go into town) I now have to endure the mental arithmetic of watching him calculate the kilowatts of power we are likely to be using in the park and how exorbitant the parking fees are in relation to what we use. He concludes we'd use approximately $3.50 or .60 per day but he then has to begin recalculating when he realises we are a family of 7 and he concludes the fees probably aren't that bad after all. At this point I'm not sure whether to slit my own wrists or try and hold my breath til I pass out.
Allan disappears into the distance with his porta loo splashing in the back and we all head into the water park at Palmerston. It's closed Wednesdays and Thursdays and the kids remind us they thought it was a good idea to go yesterday. We decide to call into a place that advertises they sell firecrackers. They don't. At least not til Territoy day. We then get my little ARB fridge looked at, ahead of heading through the Kimberley's, and I check out pickles car auctions for a possible plan B if 'Donk' (our ute) doesn't make the distance.
The kids are getting ancy to do something and are still hanging onto their beach towels and hats so we head to the wharf for fish and chips and then I have a couple of beers while Caz watches them swim at the man made beach.
We then get a history lesson in Darwins secret war oil tunnels which were only revealed to the public in 2006. From there we swing back past the float and Tilly and I play a few tunes and Tilly practises on my old friend the sticker guitar (and she is getting quite good) - my $50 special I bought in 2000.
We clean up for tea and head to the Humpty Doo Golf Club with Bug, Jenny, Kenny, Bruce and Dale. It was great catching up with them again and here Bug, Ken and I plan another Ahrnem Land Fishing/hunting trip next year in Bugs new boat.
A few more beers and all is well - time for bed !
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