Chapter 22: Off to the Race

Christmastime

December 25, 1976

It took a while for us to wake up on Christmas morning, by the time we had all cast off our sleep it was close to eight; leaving little time before the others arrived for some yule-tide fucking. Just enough time to have a shower, and start to prepare things for breakfast. Lori had suggested we make pancakes; scrambled eggs, toast, coffee and her ‘home fries’.

After we had finished our showers, I started to prepare the potatoes for the home fries; peeling them, dicing them, and chopping up some onions and capsicums to add to the potatoes. Meanwhile Lori had put a skillet on the stove, and was heating up the oil to cook the home fries. By the time we had a ‘skillet-load’ ready to start cooking; the others had arrived at the door. Megan went into the living room to let them in; I could hear them wishing Megan a Merry Christmas.

Everyone burst into the kitchen; I put down the skillet and wished them all a Merry Christmas. Lori started making pancakes; I had the home fries under control; meanwhile Megan was doing the toast. Ros and Wendy started to set the table; while Mary Beth helped me with the home fries.

“You want to make sure they get nice and crispy on the edges,” she said. “Don’t move them round so much; let them sit there for a minute, then turn them so they don’t stick.”

With everyone helping; it didn’t take long before breakfast was ready; Lori was churning out a huge stack of pancakes; Megan had at least half a loaf of bread toasted. We sat at the table, passed the food around, and started to eat.

“Now this is what a Christmas day is all about,” Murph said. “Start it with a bunch of good friends, eat plenty of food, and then into the presents waiting out around the tree.”

“Always thinking of your stomach, Chris,” Ros said.

Once we had finished eating, and cleared up the breakfast things, it was into the living room to open presents. The first task was to determine who should hand the presents out; I suggested we do the opposite of my Christmas morning tradition, and get the oldest person to do the task. That would be Mary Beth, everyone else agreed with me, so she sat down next to the tree, and started to get some of the presents out.

“Do I look for everything for one person, or just whatever present comes to hand?” she asked. “At home, we would just hand out whatever one was close, so it shared the gifts around everyone.”

“That seems to be the best way; just reach under the tree, find something, and pass it to the person whose gift it is,” Megan said.

The first present that Mary Beth pulled out was the gift I had got for Murph; she passed it across to him. He ripped the paper off, to reveal a plastic container holding a pair of wire strippers. They were identical to the ones he had used in the workshop at Alberts; I had watched him use them, and heard his comments about them.

“Fantastic! These are the best strippers I have ever seen! Thanks, mate, they’re beaut!”

“The best strippers you’ve ever seen? Haven’t you watched Wendy and me perform for you?” Ros said. “Well, that’s the last time we will put on a show for you, ungrateful sod.”

“Not that type of strippers, WIRE strippers. And you two aren’t all that bad, but not as good as the ones at the Eros Theatre, under the Hordern’s building.”

Wendy poked her tongue out at him, and Ros made a rude sign. We continued opening presents; Ros loved the book that I gave her, an Ansel Adams book on outdoor photography; Mary Beth like the AKG headphones that I had got for her; and for Wendy, I got a book of photographs of the South West Tasmanian wilderness by Olegas Truchanas.

“They are stunning photos,” she said. “What a pity all that beauty is now under water; flooding that area and building those dams was sheer vandalism!”

When Mary Beth went to pull out my present for Lori, she asked for some help, remarking just how heavy it was. When Lori opened the present, she gasped.

“I don’t believe it! An IBM golfball Selectric typewriter; that’s ... you shouldn’t have, they are much too expensive!”

“I thought, given how much typing you do, that will make things faster. I got a second type ball, too; with an Italic font.”

She leant over and gave me a deep, long kiss.

“That’s the loveliest present I think I’ve been given; I can’t wait to see how it goes.”

The next present was Mary Beth’s present to me; I opened it to reveal a pair of Ronstan sailing gloves; until now I had been using a spare pair that Don had on his boat.

“Thanks, these are great,” I said. “Red and green on the Velcro fasteners, that way I have no excuse for not remembering port and starboard.”

Mary Beth struggled with the next one; it was the large present for Megan. When she saw the contents of the case; the rich, glowing red of the lacquer on the body, she went silent. She carefully took the guitar from the case, ran her hands around the curves; and felt how the guitar fit against her body.

“It’s beautiful,” she said. “I can’t believe you would get something like this for me, you’ve spent far too much. I can’t wait to try it out, it looks so beautiful.”

More presents were opened; Mary Beth passed another one to me; a combined gift from Ros, Wendy and Murph. I opened it; they had got me a really cool wah-wah pedal. The final present was a large envelope; from Megan and Lori to me. I opened the envelope; it contained a photo of a Rhodes 88 key stage piano; unlike my current Rhodes, it had an integrated amplifier underneath it.

“It won’t be here until we are ready to set up at the Crystal Ballroom,” Lori explained. “So until then, you can look at a photo of what we have got you.”

“That’s fantastic,” I said. “And both of you said I had spent far too much on your presents!”

With all the presents open; it was time to get ready to head up to Mona Vale. Lori had already packed up her sailing bag; Megan and I put our overnight bags in the back of the car; all the food that we were taking up was in some cardboard boxes, and we hit the road. Murph was driving his car, with Mary Beth, Ros and Wendy; he would follow me, even though Mary Beth knew where to go.

When we pulled up at Megan’s parents place; we could hear the sounds of the Christmas party, even though there were still some people to arrive. We walked around the side of the house, and saw where the long table had been set up. Megan introduced Wendy, Ros and Murph to everyone else; I put the food we had bought in the kitchen, and we sat down to talk with the others.

We spent the remainder of the morning talking with people; I got to catch up with Janelle and Beth; Janelle was excited about the possibility of me being up in Newcastle for some concerts. I was worried that Beth might allude to our time together in June; but she made no ‘inappropriate’ comments at all. Maybe because her mother – Janelle’s grandmother – was there with them, Beth was a little more restrained than usual.

Megan had the opportunity to try out her new guitar; she plugged it into an amp Paul had; once she had it tuned, she played a variety of songs on it. I was impressed with the sound quality and tone of the guitar; having the twelve strings gave a richer sound. Of course, it was more tedious to tune; you had to make sure each pair of strings was precisely an octave apart, otherwise it sounded pretty discordant.

I told my parents about the plans for the upcoming concerts; they were impressed that our album was doing so well. We exchanged presents with our respective families; I got some clothes; some jeans, shirts, socks and undies, plus a few books and other assorted items. Around twelve-thirty, Mrs Winters told us it was time to start preparing the food, and serving it out. I went into the kitchen; my role was to cut the loaves of bread up into pieces. Rather than cut across each loaf and make slices, I decided to cut each large round loaf into twelve wedges; I was given a bread knife and started cutting each loaf.

Lori and Mary Beth worked under their Mother’s direction, cutting the cold barbequed chicken into pieces, while Ros, Wendy, Megan and Jillian worked with my mother preparing the salad bowls. Mr. Winters carved the roast beef, while my father cut the ham into slices. Eventually everything was ready; there was a large procession of people carrying plates, trays and bowls out to the table. By the time all the food had been bought out, the table was groaning under the weight of the repast.

I was sitting between Megan and Lori; opposite Janelle, Beth and Beth’s mother; and Beth asked where I had got the bread from.

“I love this crusty bread, Will, was that from a bakery near you?” she asked

“Yeah, just at the end of our street there’s the main drag through Erskineville, there’s this really neat Italian bakery and delicatessen, Maria’s or Tony’s or something; their bread is so good. When you walk in the shop, there’s this overpowering scent of the hot, freshly baked bread. You should see some of the pastries they have, too!”

“The local shops we have are so good to shop at,” Lori continued. “We don’t have a large, impersonal supermarket, there’s just a bunch of little stores; not just the bakery, but two green grocers, a great butcher shop, another tiny grocery shop, two milk bars. Once you get to know the shopkeepers, they know what you like, and make sure you get the best stuff.”

“Isn’t it dangerous living in the inner city though?” Mrs. Ward (the elder) asked. “I would be so worried about the crime rate; I wouldn’t want to go outside at night.”

“I guess there are some pretty sketchy places around the inner city; but in the time we’ve been living in Erskineville, we haven’t had any problems at all,” I said. “We often go out in the evening; either walking to one of the pubs, or to the station, around the shops, and there’s never any problems or things that would worry me. I don’t think I’ve heard of any break-ins nearby.”

“Where I lived before I moved in with Lori and Will,” Megan said “I was in a pretty rough area; just a block down from College Street. There were prostitutes standing on the street corner just down the road, people doing drugs, drunks passed out in doorways. I wouldn’t go outside once it turned dark. But where we are now, it’s probably safer that around here.”

“Is your new place just as convenient?” Beth asked.

“It’s probably a few minutes further to walk from the shops, I guess. So it will be a six minute walk, rather than three.”

“It’s probably just as close to the shops on King Street at St Peters,” Lori said. “That’s what is so great about living close into the city, there are lots of places to shop; everything is close at hand, all within walking distance, or a short train trip. You just have to adjust your way of thinking; it’s not ‘let me jump in the car and drive somewhere’, you start thinking in terms of walking, or public transport.”

We continued talking with the others through the meal; and then it was time for dessert; Christmas pudding, with a hot brandy custard sauce. I mashed my pudding up, just to see if any little trinkets had been put in there.

“I don’t think they put stuff in the Christmas pud anymore,” Beth said. “The decimal coins, whatever they make them from, aren’t safe to cook in the pudding like the old silver coins were.”

By mid-afternoon, people were starting to make their ways home. Chris and Jack said they had to leave to get things ready for the start of the Hobart Race tomorrow (which according to Mary Beth, meant spending at least two hours in bed together), so the rest of us decided to stop off at my parents’ place. After thanking Mr. and Mrs. Winters for having everyone around for lunch, we drove to my parents place.

Fortunately, all of us had bought our swimming cossies with us; and since it was a hot afternoon, we spent some time playing in the pool. Not surprisingly, no one was really hungry around dinner time, so we all headed up to the Earle’s place; I dropped Megan and Jillian off at their parent’s place on the way. They would meet us tomorrow morning, around six, in time to take the boat down to the harbour. Jack and Chris were still in their room, Mary Beth made the comment that this was nothing compared to how they would be when Jack returned from the race.

Eventually Jack and Chris appeared; Lori and I went off to bed early since she wanted to get a good night’s sleep. We let Chris sort out where everyone was going to sleep; I assumed Murph and Mary Beth would be in her room; and Ros and Wendy would have the guest room, down on the lower level. Once we were in her room, Lori started to undress me, and I pulled her tee shirt off over her head.

“Thank you for that lovely gift,” she said. “Where did you find a golfball typewriter?”

“There’s a second hand office equipment store, down near Central,” I said. “It’s completely reconditioned and comes with a twelve month guarantee.”

“When I get back from Hobart, I can try it out. There are at least two or three chapters that need to be typed up; I’ve got all the editing corrections marked up on the first draft. Now, enough about all that; tonight will be the last night I am going to see you for almost a week. Let’s make it a night to remember.”

Once we were undressed, Lori pushed me back, down onto the bed, and then straddled my waist. She slowly slid down, guiding my erect cock into her. She rose up and down, making love to me, slowly and tenderly. I reached up to cup my hands around her breasts, rubbing my thumbs over her hard, erect puffy nipples. Lori increased her speed; riding up and down faster and faster, until she was fucking me really hard, driving herself down so I filled her completely.

She reached down with one hand, rubbing around the top of her pussy. She came quickly, moaning loudly, and grinding her crotch hard into me. She then rolled off me, and knelt on the floor next to the bed, her arse pointing up at me.

“Fuck me, doggy style,” she moaned.

I knelt behind her, and guided my cock into her waiting cunt. I held her hips, and pumped in and out. Lori moaned and grunted each time my cock rammed into her.

“Can you finger my arsehole, please?” she asked.

I rubbed the ball of my thumb around her pussy, getting it covered in her juices, and then pressed it to the puckered opening of her arse. I pushed against her, and she slowly opened up, allowing my thumb to slide inside her. I wiggled my thumb slightly up and down, feeling her sphincter muscles pressing and squeezing on my digital invasion.

“Oh, yeah, I love that,” she moaned. “It’s so tight!”

I pulled my thumb out, and slid two fingers inside; she gasped as I pushed then in; they were thicker than my thumb, and seemed to stretch her open even further. I moved them in and out, vibrating my fingers against her muscle. She seemed to relax, and become accustomed to my fingers inside her, so I slid a third one inside. She was incredibly tight around my fingers; and I wondered just how it would feel to have my cock inside her. I thought back to when Cathy had asked me to fuck her in the arse; she was very tight there, too.

While I was fingering her arse, I hadn’t been concentrating on the sensations of my prick sliding in and out of her cunt. She was now incredibly wet; each time I thrust my prick into her; I could hear the squelching sounds of her juices being squeezed out around my cock. I adjusted my position slightly, changing the angle of my cock so the underside of my shaft rubbed against her clit. She started shaking and moaning loudly, and I felt her cunt muscles tighten around my cock. I was close to coming, too, I closed my eyes, clenched the muscles at the base of my shaft, and as I started coming, I let my breath out, groaning loudly.

Lori started coming as I spurted inside her; crying out in pleasure. When she had finished, I removed my fingers from her arse, pulled back some my cock flopped out of her, and helped her up so we were sitting on the bed. After a few minutes, it was off to the bathroom for a warm shower, to clean up.

After we had finished making love, Lori curled up next to me, her head resting on my chest.

“You take care during the race,” I said to her. “I want you to be in one piece when I meet you in Hobart.”

“I will, I’ll be careful.”

“Tell me there’s no reason for me to worry about you,” I said.

“There’s no reason for you to worry about me,” she repeated. “I do like it that you do worry about me. Maybe we both need to get one of those lucky rabbit’s feet that what’s-his-name from the All Stars was going on about.”

“Not sure what difference a piece of dead rabbit would make. I don’t know, I’m just worried that something might happen to you. Maybe I feel things are going too right for me; life can’t be as good as it is.”

“You’re being rather pessimistic; almost to the point of obsessing about it. Because there isn’t anything to worry about, because there are no problems in our life; that is a problem in itself, and is causing you to worry. You’re being silly, make love to me again, and forget about anything that might go wrong.”

This time, it was slow, gentle, tender. She lay on the bed, took my prick in a hand as I positioned myself above her. She spread her legs wide open; and with her help, it seemed as if I just glided inside her. She pulled my face down to her, and we kissed as my cock moved in and out. I barely noticed when she came; she just gripped my shoulders tighter. After a few more minutes, I came again, not as vigorously as before, but enough to make her moan.

“I have a confession to make,” she said, as she was snuggled up to my chest. “For the last few weeks, every day while I’ve been going to work, I’ve had that butt plug up my arse, stretching it. When I get back from Hobart, I want us to try anal sex; what do you think? You don’t have to; it’s completely up to you.”

“Well, it’s something you want to try, and I can’t think of any reason why not to try it. As long as you think it’s not going to hurt you, we can give it a try.”

“It shouldn’t hurt if we take things slowly, and I get some good lube. I asked Mary Beth about it; asked if she had ever tried it, and what she thought of it.”

“And?”

“She said to go for it; she said she really enjoys the sensation. It’s quite different from normal, vaginal sex; having her arse spread open and filled with cock somehow intensifies the sensations from her clit and vagina much stronger. She told me it’s important to get some good lube; ideally a water-based one is best, like K-Y. Unlike a vagina, the arse doesn’t have the natural lubricant.

“How much do you talk about things with her?”

“Quite a lot, in the last few weeks, particularly when we’ve been at your concerts. She’s changed a lot in the last twelve months; before she was, well ... without being unkind, she had a tendency to just fuck any guy who would look sideways at her. Not that there’s anything wrong with doing that, it’s just that I really couldn’t relate to her, and her lifestyle.

“Remember how at thanksgiving, she said she had embraced celibacy this year? Well, we spoke a lot about that, and sex in general. She asked what things we had done, how it worked with us having Megan in the mix, and the others as well. I think she was curious about how the open relationship we have works in practice.”

“Do you think she wants something like that with Murph?”

“No, but she’s thinking that he might start to miss having sex with Wendy and Ros, and she doesn’t want him to start to resent being constrained. The two of them are head over heels in love; I guess much like you and I are. She was curious as to how we keep the love alive, keep the deep respect for each other while at the same time loving others, sleeping with them, and having a pretty wild sex life.”

“I guess what we have is pretty unconventional,” I said. “What was her reaction to you telling her about our arrangements?”

“She was curious, and impressed with how we were able to keep our love strong, despite everything. Of course she told me that everyone could see that we were meant to be together; everyone but me realized that ages ago. So the face that we each love other people, have sex with them, and do all of the ‘unconventional’ things that we do doesn’t change our love for each other at all. I suspect she would want something like that in her relationship with Murph. But back to what we were talking about; she described some of the times she had anal sex and threesomes with two guys. It made me think about doing it; well, it actually confirmed what I’ve been thinking about for quite a while. I want us to try that; when I get back from Hobart, we will find the time where you can fuck me in the arse. If we both enjoy it, I want to try a double penetration, too; have you fuck me up the arse, and have Jillian use the strap-on, to fuck my cunt at the same time.”

“That would be good; have you suggested that to Jillian?”

“Yes, and she is pretty keen to try it; she wants to fuck me with the strap-on; either just her and me, or in a threesome with you, too.”

“Sounds like a date,” I said. “A date with your date.”

“Will Morris, you are so bad! If you are going to be like that...”

I pulled her face to mine, kissing her deeply to shut her up. She pushed her tongue into my mouth, and locked together, she rolled on top of me.

“What was it you were saying” I asked her as she broke away.

“I can’t remember,” she said. “Wasn’t it something about us having anal sex, when I get back? Now we should try to get to sleep, both of us have a busy day tomorrow.”

Race Day

December 26, 1976

We woke up early; Lori had set the alarm for half an hour before we really had to be up and ready; enough time to make love one final time before she would be away racing. After our shower, it was out to the kitchen; where breakfast production was in full swing. Just after we sat down and starting eating our toast, Megan and Jillian arrived, and Mary Beth and Murph emerged from their bedroom.

Once everyone was fed, it was down to the boat. I made sure the Sydney Harbour and approaches chart was up in the flying bridge, along with the little cheat sheet of waypoints and bearings for the journey down to the harbour and back. After Jack had shown the others around the boat, he told me to start the engines, and prepared to untie the mooring lines.

As we slowly headed out of the little bay towards the main part of Pittwater, I went over a few safety instructions with everyone.

“For those that haven’t been out on this boat before, there are just a couple of simple rules to make sure everyone stays safe,” I said. “The main one is to always keep hold of something secure; a railing, or the lifeline, just something so you won’t go overboard. The trip should be pretty smooth, but if you feel as if you are going to chuck up, lean over the side. And make sure you don’t spew into the wind; that’s not going to be pleasant for you or others near you.

“If someone does fall overboard, don’t panic. I’ll tell someone to act as the lookout; to keep pointing in the direction of the person; and we’ll turn around and come up to you slowly. There are life jackets down in the main cabin, wear them if you feel unsure. The main thing is don’t run around; keep a hold of something, and enjoy yourselves.”

We headed up Pittwater to Barrenjoey; Lori pointed out various locations to Ros, Wendy and Murph. That included the sailing club, and once we rounded the headland, Maitland Bay where we might find time to go swimming sometime in January. Once we had cleared the headland, I opened the throttle right up, and we made short time of the distance to Sydney Harbour. There were lots of other vessels in the harbour; so I had to slow down, but we eventually made our way to Rushcutters Bay, and we tied up alongside one of the wharves at the CYC.

“You’ll have to be careful you don’t get shanghaied onto a crew, Murph,” I warned him. “The first time I came to watch the start, I almost ended up on a boat to Hobart.”

I helped Lori and Jack get their gear loaded onto Polaris; meanwhile the others were taking in all the action on the docks. Ros had bought her camera with her; Jack had asked her to get as many photos of Polaris, particularly once they hoisted the spinnaker with his company’s logo on it. Lori showed me all the control lines on ‘Polaris’; she had done that earlier, but now I knew a lot more about sailing it made more sense to me. I still didn’t think I would be able to be a useful member of the crew; however she did collar me into running the spinnaker sheets and braces for her. I also ran the pole downhaul; on ‘Polaris’ they used a double-ended guy, so the pole angle could be adjusted from either side of the cockpit. I asked her how they would actually gybe the pole, since it was too large and long to do the standard ‘end for end’ gybe that we did on ‘Koolong’.

“Gybing is done using a ‘dip pole’ method,” she said. “It requires coordination between the bowman, the mastman, and the rest of us in the cockpit.”

She explained how when the beak at the end of the pole was tripped, releasing the brace, the mast end of the pole would be raised up, allowing the other end to dip down, and then the bowman could swing it across the other side, clear of the forestay. It all sounded pretty complicated, needing a hell of a lot of good coordination between everyone involved.

“We practice gybing several times every time we go out,” she said. “It sounds more complicated than it really is. You would get the hang of it quickly enough; just do what I say, and everything would be fine.”

“That’s the secret to a happy marriage,” Jack said, interrupting. “In any situation, just do what she says, that’s how I’ve stayed out of trouble all these years.”

“You still manage to get into trouble,” Chris said. “Now, both of you have a good race, stay safe, and we’ll see you in Hobart when you get in. We’ll be there around noon on Tuesday.”

Since it was now almost time for them to head out to the starting line, we wished them all good luck. Chris kissed Jack, and Lori and I kissed, too. When Lori and I had finished kissing, Megan kissed her goodbye. Finally, we all were back on the boat, I started the motors, and once Mary Beth and Chris had cast off the mooring lines, I headed out into the centre of the harbour, away from where the race competitors were starting to get ready.

While we were waiting for the race to start, Chris and Mary Beth brought up lunch and drinks for us; they had made sandwiches which we ate while we moved around away from the starting line. I did my best to explain starting tactics; the various rules and procedures, and told the others to watch the signal flag mast on the committee boat. It was now less than fifteen minutes to the start; I pointed out some of the favourites for the line honours win; ‘Ballyhoo’, ‘Apollo’, ‘Anaconda II’.

“Funny thing; ‘Ballyhoo’ is owned by Jack Rooklyn, who was the previous owner of Apollo; and his son is skippering ‘Apollo’,” I said. “You should see its spinnaker; it has an image of the Apollo moon rocket on it.”

I tried to position us as close to the pin end of the start line; without getting in the way of the race boats. Of course, lots of other spectator boats were trying to do the same; I was too busy watching out for all of the other boats, that I didn’t catch the actual start. Apparently ‘Polaris’ made a good start; they had clear air and were in the leading group of boats as they beat up the harbour on starboard tack towards the first mark. I steered a course to run parallel to the boats, keeping out of the ‘exclusion zone’. Ros was standing on the flying bridge next to me with her camera; she had already taken one roll of film, and was loading another.

“You might want to wait until they get to the rounding mark just up ahead,” I suggested. “I’ll stand off it, so you can get all the action as they go around the mark.”

I increased the speed to get to a position off the turning mark ahead of the leading boats; Ros would have a good angle to capture all the action. ‘Polaris’ was in tenth position as they turned towards the heads.

We sped out through the heads; the three leaders had already started to turn south, so I sped past them, and turned around so Ros could get photos of their hoists. We weren’t disappointed; all of the leading boats had perfect hoists; the sails were rapidly hoisted to the top of the masts, and popped out, filling with the north-east wind as the woollen ties broke apart. Ros got several photos of the action on ‘Polaris’; and we followed them down the coast until we were almost off Botany Bay, when we decided it was time to turn back. After a few blasts on the horn, with us all waving at them, I turned us around, and set a course to clear Long Reef.

Chris said she would go down to the main cabin, and try to get some sleep; meanwhile everyone else was sitting out on the sun deck, in front of the flying bridge. Ros came up to stand next to me.

“Thanks for getting in close to the action so I could get all those photos,” she said. “It must have been pretty difficult for you, with all the boats milling around; I was amazed none of the boats racing actually hit each other. You must be just about worn out, with all the concentration on keeping us safe.”