My first woodwork encounter was entirely unplanned, however. I was waiting for some friends on Circular Quay in Sydney [well known for being not even slightly circular] and happened on a model boat builder. Not that 'model' actually, with a bit of practice a small child could have had a great a time sailing one of these apparently fully-functioning galleons around Sydney harbour. I learnt that the maker's name was Sam ~ and, as it turned out, that was about all I learnt.

Because my camera was still being repaired I had bought myself a couple of disposables in readiness for my sight-seeing trip around Sydney Harbour. So, it was with one of these that I took the shots you see here. I'm not a good photographer, but I liked my camera and was used to it and anyone who does any halfway serious photography will know the feeling of not being able to use the camera you're used to. My camera then was an SLR with a short zoom lens so that I could keep my distance from subjects and still get quite close up shots without intimidating them. In this case, as I was using a camera that was designed to take panoramic shots of the whole of Sydney harbour I had to be so close to get a decently proportioned picture as to be positively intrusive - so from the start this did not endear me to Sam.

Not being a good journalist, either, I was not armed with pencil and paper so I nipped off to a local souvenir shop and bought a small notebook with a kangaroo on the front. I went back, introduced myself and explained that I would like to take some photos and ask him a few questions for a British Wooworking magazine. He seemed completely disinterested and under-awed by this suggestion and continued to glue a spar onto a mast with most of a tube of SuperGlue.

The ships are magnificent, however, as these shots hopefully show, and with a far better attention to detail than some other similar pieces I've seen. IÕm quite sure they did, as the sign claimed, take him around 2000 hours each to make. It being quite clear to me that I wasnÕt going to get an interview of any sort, I asked whether he might like to give me his full name so that at least I could write something on my new pad. He directed me to a typed out A4 sheet of paper on a chair in front of him which contained some information about him, including his name, and why and how he built the boats. I stuffed my newly purchased but already redundant note book away and decided to take a photo of the sheet and read it later.

Apparently, the whole point of his making and showing the boats was to raise money for something or other ~ at least I would know what when I developed my film. When I finally met my friends and departed for the ferry trip I realised that I had not even left him any money. When we returned later that evening, he was gone ~ so he didnÕt even get any money from me! Unfortunately, taking a photo of his information sheet using a fixed focus, [fixed everything] disposable camera was a mistake ~ I was unable to decipher even his full name when I finally had the film processed.

So, whoever you are ~ nice boats!