Plans: a Basis for Change
The wind refused to cooperate yesterday afternoon. It did freshen a little which allowed us to shut down the BRM, however it remained obstinately on the nose from the SW. John didn’t look like he was particularly enjoying himself and when I hinted that the trip to Whyalla would likely require two nights at sea he gave me the distinct impression that he was going to enjoy himself even less. On the other hand, when I suggested that perhaps we should give up on making for Whyalla and head for Emu Bay on Kangaroo Island for the night instead, I am sure his features appeared to light up.
Meanwhile my battle with the powers of darkness who obstinately refuse to let me take Oli on the next voyage had suffered a tactical set back and I was not a particularly happy chappy myself. I have applied to the Administrative Appeals Tribunal asking them to review the Department of Agriculture’s decision but I received a letter from them yesterday saying that because I had not applied for an import permit then they likely did not have the authority to review the case. What a masterclass in the Kakaesque world of bureaucracy I thought.
So, after a brief consultation, the crew unanimously agreed to head for Emu Bay.
We tacked and pointed Sylph in the general direction of KI. She picked up speed and the passage suddenly became significantly more comfortable on a number of levels.
As things turned out we ended up anchoring in Boxing Bay a few miles to the east of Emu Bay just after sunset. We enjoyed a peaceful night, including no phone reception, and arose this morning with the intention of continuing to Emu Bay where we were hopeful of getting a shower at the caravan park and some ice for John’s beers. However, once clear of Boxing Bay and within range of a cell tower, John established that there were no showers at the caravan park. We anchored anyway for lunch and so I could call the Administrative Appeals Tribunal and argue my case as to why I cannot submit a formal application to the Department of Agriculture for an import permit for Oli, primarily because I did not want to import him. I am pleased to say that the person dealing with my application followed the logic of my explanation and asked me to put it in writing. He will then submit it to the next cog in the machine to see whether Oli’’s case is judged as within the AAT’s purview. I remain somewhat pessimistic as to the final outcome of this tussle with Australia’s finest custodians of red tape but at least I will feel that I have done all I can to ensure that Oli is not summarily executed on our return to Australia.
Now that that bit of paperwork is out of the way we have once more weighed anchor and are heading towards Kingscote or American River … haven’t yet decided where we will stay for the night.
All is well.