THE very first of these columns written from Across the River, back in December 2008, pondered whether an abandoned yacht, moored among the pine trees on the edge of the Penrose State Forest, was an early indication of rising sea levels threatening the Southern Highlands.
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The yacht first came to my attention when I was working at the council and our weeds officer, Jim Boyan stumbled across this strangely located boat while doing inspections, way back in 1994.
At the time we suggested that Jim should have pieced the puzzle together when he spotted an old bloke with a long beard leading a pair of goats down the track ten minutes later, but understandably, he didn't think the two events were linked.
Not surprising, I guess, as Mount Ararat is a long way from the Penrose State Forest.
ANYHOO, the other week, Col Pyne and his Rural Fire Service crew were doing their pre-season fire trail checks and discovered the yacht is no longer there.
"I don't know if this is its epitaph, or the next chapter, in this very long running mystery," conjectured Col, explaining "we came upon an open clearing on the Baronga Fire Trail, where this local icon had spent a lifetime, and it has now gone. Nobody seems to know its fate but the rumours have started circulating, one of them being it has gone on to be the founding member of the Wingello Yacht Club."
We all know things were mighty wet last month and strange things do happen, but surely the old yacht didn't sail off into the deep green yonder, never to be seen again. So I phoned the commodore of the Wingello Yacht Club.
He said he would meet me at the Penrose Pub and tell me the story, but he didn't show up and I couldn't find the pub.
Don't tell me that both the commodore and the pub have now vanished along with the yacht. The plot has thickened.
THIS Highlands mystery is a little like the boat discovered on land in the middle of Bouvet Island, perhaps the most remote pimple in the South Atlantic - controlled by Norway, uninhabited and over a thousand nautical miles from the nearest land.
They found the oars about one hundred metres away, but no bodies.
So why was this rowboat sitting in the middle of nowhere?
Who was on the boat? How did they get there - over a thousand miles from civilisation - with nothing more than a pair of oars?
And what happened to the crew?
I GUESS we will never know the answer to that riddle, but I am pretty sure someone can clear up the mystery of the local yacht found nestled among the pine needles out Penrose way.
If any readers can put us out of our misery about the whereabouts of the yacht, the Wingello commodore or the Penrose Pub, my email address is geoff.goodfellow 11@gmail.com.
WHILE talking of things nautical, it was this time last year when the Dudley's lovely daughter, Georgina met a handsome sailor down by Circular Quay.
"l am sailing off to America in the morning, and if you like, I can stow you away on my boat," suggested the frisky young Australian sailor boy.
"I'll take good care of you and bring you food every day."
Moving closer, he slipped his arm round her shoulder and added, "I'll keep you happy, and you'll keep me happy."
Georgina had nothing planned and thought it was worth a try. After all, what did she have to lose? That night, the sailor brought her aboard and hid her in a lifeboat. From then on, every night he brought her food and then they made passionate love until dawn. Two weeks later, during a routine inspection, she was discovered by the captain.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. "I have an arrangement with one of your sailors," said Georgina apologetically.
"I get food and a trip to America, and he is having a good time with me."
"He certainly is," said the smiling captain. "This is the Manly Ferry."
