A Man in The Making Part - 1

The Karaoke Chronicles told the story, waves were surfed, rugged terrain was explored and mountain tops were conquered, yet as I made my way through the arrivals terminal at Melbourne’s international airport I felt as though part of me were unsatisfied by my most recent Kiwi experience. With Luke Hurst aka "Thursty Hursty" as my guide to Melbourne nightlife it only took a few days of drunken soul searching to realize that this unsatisfied voice within was none other than my alpha male. Outside of a few handlebar moustache induced episodes in the jungles of Cambodia and NZ’s barren SW coast, my alpha male had always kept a low profile within my conscious. One particular night as Hursty blurred my vision with an onslaught of costume shots, Irish car bombs and pints of VB, I had an alcohol-induced epiphany. I had spent my time in New Zealand driving a fuel efficient Vanette, spooning nightly with a moderately attractive Englishman, 2 out of my last 3 jobs required a hairnet, and I still only had 3 chest hairs. Even the Frenchman in me was taken back by such an unmanly self portrait. In a steady slur, I informed Hursty that I would be heading to the Outback.
My ticket to Australia’s back country was my good friend Kim, who while working together in Thailand had always promised me work on a pearling boat if I was daring enough to venture that deep into the Bush. So, with a serious hangover, and a few dollars left in my pocket I thanked Luke and the Hurst family for all their generosity and crossed continent to Western Australia. By some accounts Perth is the 3rd most isolated city in the world, and my road to manhood took me 2,000 miles north of Perth to the transient pearling town of Broome. Kimmy, a 20 year resident and unofficial mayor of Broome didn’t disappoint. Within days I was set to make my debut as a pearler, but Kim knew better than to let an ignorant "yank" head off without a crash course in Bush culture. She taught me how to abbreviate most nouns by adding a "y" or "o" at the end, that females are to be referred to as "sheilas", how to smoothly add "aye" to the ending of any sentence and when in complete agreement to always slowly nod and say "awe shit yeah".
With that, I packed my bags and my new found cultural knowledge and boarded a sea plane for my final destination. The red dirt trails of the bush slowly gave way to the turquoise reflection of the sea of the Kimberly’s Buccaneer archipelago and I nervously sensed the imminence of my new career as a pearlin man. The seaplane descended on the tropical waters and I looked out at my new home, The Capricorn lady. We boarded the boat and I introduced myself to Pedro the skipper. What followed was an introduction that would have been the envy of HR departments world wide. “Oy, we got a yank on board”. At this point all eyes were on me, I had 2 options, I could inform them that I was merely  there as a small beckon of freedom, or I could apologize the latest addition to there staff was not a Swedish backpacker with a big rack. I chose the latter, drew a few smiles and slid off.
I descended to the 8 birth cabin where I made my 1st acquaintances with my future skipper Jayson. Peering over his FHM Magazine, Jays eyed me for a moment before announcing his final verdict, "sepo aye”. The blank look on my face suggested an elaboration was needed and Jays was quick to oblige. "You Yanks, you're full of shit mate, like a septic tank, that makes you a Sepo", Jays hails from the Northern Territory (pronounced "territry") and if there was ever any debate as to whether "the territry" was not Australia's most backward state, his blatant ignorance put it to rest. This awkward cultural exchange was interrupted an imposing voice (insert the voice of the Simpson's bus driver Auto here), "Jays, Jayson Priestly... .alrrrrrrrrrright". Enter Charlie, Charlie's mental capacity hovered between that of a chimp and Tori Spelling. Charlie had 2 passions in life, one was what he simply referred to as "Boom Boom" and the other was equating people's first name with that of a hollywood celeb. I stuck my hand out towards Charlie, "names Joa mate", "Charlie" he replied with a perplexed look on his face. Like an 80's prototype Mac reading a floppy disk, I could see Charlie scanning his memory for the name "Joa" in his celebrity archive. I decided to put an end this pointless quarry and tried to beat Charlie at his own game. "Charlie Chaplin?" I said, He quickly came out of his state like trance, "No" he emphatically replied, retracting his hand, "Charlie, Charlie Sheen....alrrrrrrrright" . With the proper greeting established, Jayson Priestly, Charlie Sheen, and Sepo left the comforts of the Capricorn Lady, and boarded the SB1 cleaning boat, the task at hand, chip some shell.

Friend and foe, the Sleepy Shark

View more photos 

Joining this all star cast on the SB1 was perhaps my favorite Capricorn Lady Character Patto. Patto was working hundreds of miles away from civilization for a reason. In Patto's world good intentions were all to easily corrupted by the vices society dangles before him. Despite his tendency towards alcohol related deviance, Patto had the charisma and heart that most politicians pay good money for, and he was an instant ally. With Jayson proudly behind the wheel, the SB1 pulled up to a long line and the experienced trio gave me a crash course in the methodical art of shell maintenance. I went through the motions quickly learning about fire weed, red weed and a variety of other stinging and burning sensations associated with pearl shell. Suddenly Jays cut the engine, "Smoko" he exclaimed (Aussie for morning break). The Neptune, a small boat, pulled up along side the SB1 and we given our breakfast in a large cooler. Jays, like it was a Christmas present, eagerly ripped off the lid, "Awe shit yeah, wing dings!!". Wing ding is Australian for buffalo wing (not that either term makes sense) and Jays made no attempt to conceal his love affair with the deep friend food. I peered into the cooler, Buffalo wings, bacon & egg sandwich and sausage roles, in New Zealand Tim and I ate fresh muesli with Bananas and honey...I didn't dare share this with my new co-workers. Understanding my allotment of wing dings had jay's name on the them, I grabbed a sandwhich and retreated to the back corner of the boat.

Pearls anybody?

View more photos 

"Smoko" conversation can often be the most entertaining part of the day, especially when Jays starts with his fictional "tales from the territry". On this particular day Jays started with how "up in the territry" he "shot 3 roos with 1 bullet mate". With a endearing double chin and seductive globs of sausage role on his chin, Jays's stories of hunting prowess were borderline believable, however his stories of sexual prowess were not. I tried to choke down my sandwich as the crew exchanged FHM inspired feats, knowing that my contribution to the conversation was inevitable. When all the boys had exhausted their imaginations, Jays turned to me "what’s wrong sep....don't ya like chicks?". This was my time to shine, to take an instance when a beautiful girl acknowledged my presence and twist into a sexual feat, god knows a have done it before. Patto cracked open a mid strength beer he smuggled off the Cap Lady to wash down breakfast, "c'mon yank, what ya got?". But I was unable to contribute to the smorgasbord of disturbing mental imagery already floating in my head. All I could muster was an unconvincing "naw, I mean yeah dude...I like chicks". Patto was not won over by my response, he jumped up and latched onto a metal pole, Patto's ensuing thrusting action could only be described as a "hump". "C'mon yank, get into it mate!" he screamed. This impromptu performance thrilled Jays and almost caused him to choke on his wing ding "awe hell yeah patto!" he shrieked. Having a remarkably sharp morning Charlie immediately deciphered Patto's actions, "boom, boom....alrrrrrright!". As I sat back and took it all in I could only wonder, was this it? Was manhood defined by boom boom, mid strength beer and wing dings? Surely, there had to be more....