323. Jazz Harbour Cruise

Sydney has been build up over the decades around the natural harbour and most of the iconic sights like the Bridge, the Opera House and the freakish clown face at Luna Park are best seen from the water. So as part of my job as Mum and Dad’s tour guide I had booked us onto a cruise of the Harbour.

Isla and I were running slightly late and when we arrived at the wharf where the boat was going to be leaving from, Mum and Dad were already there sitting in a bar near the dock and there was a queue of about 30 people lined up on the wharf-side. I have to say that we weren’t really paying attention to what was going on as we were having an in-depth conversation with Mum about the Rach 3 so when the boat pulled up and the queue started moving Dad started having a flap – “Come on, hurry up or we’ll miss the boat. Stop you’re chatting.” You get the picture.

We walked over and joined the end of the queue and were ushered onto the boat with the rest of the crowd. I was impressed how high-class the boat looked as there was leather seating everywhere and beautiful decking although it was reasonably small. Mum and Dad quickly found seats and within a minute a nice girl had approached us asking if we wanted anything to drink. Seconds later we were knocking back icy beers and wine and chatting with the really friendly passengers.

Mum was having the usual chat about people’s geneology and a lovely couple that they had cornered were going on about how there mothers were from Edinburgh and Isla and I were stretched out on the outside deck enjoying the beers while Isla slapped on the complimentary sun cream. It looked like this cruise was going to be a good day out and with all the complimentary drinks it would be hard not to.

Suddenly it occurred to Dad that the music that was playing over the sound system was not jazz and then the most surreal and embarrassing conversation then took place between him and one of the other chaps on the boat…

“So, when is the jazz going to start?”

“Jazz?”

“Yeah, jazz. Is there not going to be some live jazz music.”

“Erm, I don’t think so. It’s a bit small in here for musical instruments! Haha.”

“Isn’t this supposed to be a jazz cruise of the Harbour!”

“Eh, no. This is Mitsubishi Crow’s Nest Christmas Party!”

We all heard it and there were 4 simultaneously red faces on the boat. Now I’m not one to get embarrassed but on this occasion it would have been hard not to. I mean I was sitting on someone else’s charter boat, using their sun cream and deck space while guzzling back the beers that everyone else on the boat had paid for. It didn’t help that the captain had to go back to the dock to let us off which created a ripple through the people who were not in the know of “why are were going back?”
Scarlet, we bailed out onto the wharf despite the friendly couple’s insistence that they didn’t care – “Well you’ve already had a few drinks you might as well stay!” Unsurprisingly that didn’t make us feel any better and we high-tailed it to cover and watched, hidden, as the Mitsubishi car sales folk made their second attempt at a Christmas party.

I later realised that nobody had asked us for our names or tickets and when we eventually boarded the Jazz Cruise boat that was the first things we were asked for. We were shown to our table in what can only be described as a galley which housed about 12 tables at the bow and another dozen at the stern with a small dance floor in the midship and an adjacent collection of musical instruments complete with a baby grand and of course musicians.

Before long the 80 or so passengers were on board and we set sail, stowaway free, round Sydney’s harbour. Our beer-buzz was completely gone and although nobody on this ship knew our secret shame I still felt mortified with a self-consciousness that only some booze could undo.

Now booze is the most appropriate word here because as I was standing in the queue at the bar to pay for a bottle of cheap fizzy white (no free drinks on this boat) I happened to hear the conversation of the two gents behind me who were saying that they only need to get a round of Cokes as “Jenny’s got a bottle of vodka under the table!”. So despite the classy jazz music and the veritable feast of a seafood buffet it was in all honesty a “jazzed-up” booze-cruise.

None the less we found ourselves having a great time especially after the second bottle of fizzy wine. The musicians did a good job of keeping the crowd entertained and despite only a few young kids and their grand-parents hitting the dance floor with hip-breaking fear on their faces everyone seemed to enjoy themselves.

Soon we were laughing at the earlier “incident” and I knew that it was the kind of event that would be told with good humour over beers in the future.