Angelwanderer

This is a tag that was first used in 2005, and it wasn’t because it came from heaven. Life’s evolution was the instigator of this new handle of mine.

One night in 2004, on a darkened rural road between Dayboro and Stafford, my headlights illuminated a distressed young couple. They were standing beside their car in their finest clothing. I stopped to ask if they were okay.

They had found a baby possum on the side of the road while on their way to dinner. Believing they had somehow hit the creature, they were upset and wanted someone to help. I picked up the little possum and put it into a plastic storage box I found in the back of my car.

I found and dialled the number of a wildlife rescue place in the pitch black and spoke to a voice at the other end. I gave the young couple the details of the rescue centre and then sent them on their way.

A week later, they came to my house to drop off the storage box and tell me that the joey was doing fine. They smiled and thanked me for stopping that night. It was a good outcome for people and creatures alike.

This itself didn’t create Angelwanderer.

Later that week, some folks sailing in Moreton Bay had capsized in their small sailing yacht. They tried in vain to beat the rising winds but lost the fight just after sunset. They drifted in pitch blackness in a body of water known for its tidal currents. Their upturned boat got dragged over oyster beds while they clung to its side. Cut and bloodied, they continued to drift back and forth during the thunderstorm until their boat landed on an unknown shore sometime before midnight.

I was sailing earlier that day and heard the forecast on my marine radio. I decided my journey would end early and sought refuge in a small bay on an island. It was already full of boats and skippers preparing to ride out the storm. Ironically, I anchored beside a small yacht I recognised. Craig and I talked on the phone, and he mentioned a couple of inexperienced sailors on an even smaller yacht who were to meet him here but didn’t show.

At midnight, I received a phone call from the mainland police, who wanted to know if I knew Craig’s whereabouts (a mutual friend in his hometown passed my number to them. He knew we sailed together). I informed them he was nearby, and we were both anchored in a small bay near Stradbroke Island. (Apparently, the other couple had crawled ashore, followed some lights on a hill, found a home with a phone, and contacted Air Sea Rescue because they feared Craig had been lost to the sea.)

The short version of this story picks up at 6 am the following day.

I collected the bedraggled couple from a jetty about 1/4 nm north of where I was anchored. They called and asked for a lift to their home port. I suggested we also look for their boat along the way. They told me not to bother as it would’ve sunk, and they did not know where to start looking. With marine charts in my hands, their story being shared in the cockpit, and knowledge of the tide and weather leading up to their capsizing (and afterwards), I took a chance and I found their half-sunk trailer sailer with my binoculars on a beach another nautical mile north of our location.

We righted their wrecked boat, emptied it of water, plugged a hole or two, tethered it to my mine, and then towed it all the way back to Manly Harbour. We became great friends after that.

Angelwanderer wasn’t born here either.

A third event involved a broken-down car at a shopping centre and a fellow who knew nothing of vehicles. I got him going so he could get to Church on time.

Several other ‘events’ took place during that month that improved my life in ways I can’t describe. My marriage ending began them.

Oh, don’t feel sad about that. Not everything with the word ‘ending’ in it is sad. There are many alternative happy ever afters. Sometimes, this one is the right one. Our journey had ended. That’s all. It happens. It was the best outcome we could muster.

It was a liberating time, but it was also scary.

As a couple, we had a routine. As a single person, I felt like I was wandering. I wandered alone and, contrary to my spouse’s claim, discovered I was a nice person with a good and decent heart.

This is when Angelwanderer started to reveal itself.

MySpace said it was closing its accounts, and WordPress was to pick them up. I had to migrate my blog if I was to keep it. I knew nothing about WordPress, but WP asked for a name during the sign-up. Angelwanderer seemed an appropriate one.

[I can’t remember what my first blog was called]

I’d only just changed my MySpace blog title to Captain’s Log – an account of my sea voyages as I learned to live and sail on the water. The migration was successful, but the blog changed direction soon after I moved onto the yacht. I soon spoke more about grappling with a new challenge – writing a book.

I didn’t set out to write one, but living on a yacht gave me time to be with my feelings. They say if you’re going to write something, write what you know.

I did.

The result was a tumultuous, intriguing, dark story with a twist at the end.

Secrets about the marriage were revealed.

–Angelwanderer.