Finding A Life Changing Message In A Bottle In Sydney Harbor.

Now I would able to pay for my airplane ticket home to California, USA...Issue #98

ifOnlyi…stayed in Sydney and entered the “Bartender of the Year” contest, and then traveled back to America with Peter, to enjoy those two weeks of an all-expense-paid trip, watching the America's Cup Yacht racing. That was unrealistic, though, as I needed money for my ticket to fly back to California.

I was still renting a little room in the three-bedroom penthouse apartment that I shared with three other people. One was an English lady, and the other two were a married couple who were the owners, and I continued to work 5 or 6 nights a week at ROGUES restaurant and private club.

The owner of the apartment was a part-time 12-meter sailboat racer. He was 400 pounds of muscle and was one of the two grinders on the America’s Cup yacht, which won race four in 1970. Sadly, Gretel II, the last wooden sailing yacht built and owned by media magnate Sir Frank Packer, lost the overall race to the Intrepid. By 1982, the Racing Yacht was used solely for sporting enjoyment.

One night, while I was in the apartment partying with a date and my roommates, and apartment owners, Jimbo and Lori, they mentioned that a local radio station had announced it would drop a bottle in Sydney Harbor, the second-largest harbor in the world, the next day! The person who finds this bottle will be awarded a big prize.

I instantly wondered how I could go out and look for a bottle in the sea? I could use that award for sure, so I needed to get my buddy Peter, with whom I used to live, to retrieve his little motorboat and leave early in the morning.

Peter sounded keen to help when I talked with him, and told him what the radio station had said that day. He was eager to help me find the bottle in the water. That’s all I knew. The odds that we would see this bottle among all the people who heard the same thing were almost zero.

The grand prize was two tickets to the America's Cup Finale in Newport, Rhode Island, USA. 12-meter racing is a massive sport in Australia, in fact, the world. There was going to be a swarm of people and boats looking for this special bottle.

I called Peter back and said we should leave earlier than we had discussed, around 5:00 a.m., and maybe we would get our search before anyone else.

My wake-up calls were set, and I was ready and waiting when Peter arrived to pick me up.

When we launched the boat, the waters in the harbor were messy, and there were waves everywhere. We were getting splashed by huge cargo ships, yachts, and cruise ships, all of which were honking at us as we were motoring around, and clearly, they were upset as we were in their way of travel.

I was bailing water out of our tiny boat, as we were getting drenched with the big ships passing us by, and the waves would nearly fill the boat, and I was searching while Peter steered the motor. I would pick things out of the water that I don’t even want to talk about, but diapers were plentiful. I kept saying, 'Go here, go there, grab this, grab that,' and it went on for eight hours. I kept seeing bottles, yet none were the one we needed. Peter was getting tired and disillusioned.

Plastic, coke, beer, milk bottles, every kind except what was needed. Where is it? Where could it be?

At this point, after over 11 hours of searching, I grabbed one bottle on the way back to Peter’s dock. I pulled it out, and this time it had a ribbon around it. We were both elated and nervous at the same time.

Peter yelled, “Let’s get out of here NOW, and go behind Sharks Island and open it.” It was beautiful, complete with a ribbon and a card sealed in plastic. I read the words from the card aloud: “What you are about to open will change your life.”

Sharks Island in the harbor, where we hid and opened the bottle.

We uncorked it and pulled out a rolled-up heavy-duty paper that said on it, “ You have just won a trip for two, all expenses paid, to the September 1983 AMERICAS CUP FINAL, for 14 nights from September 13th to September 27th to Newport, Rhode Island, U.S.A.”

We high-fived each other and rushed back to Peter's home. His parents were elated for the two of us. They couldn’t believe the hundreds of people out in the harbour searching like crazy for this bottle, and we had it safely in our hands.

We agreed that Peter should be the one to contact the Radio Station, and he suggested that I not mention I was involved in grabbing the bottle, as the press and news crew were coming out to interview him, the one and only blessed person holding this significantly precious gift.

He didn’t want the press to ask what I did for a living or how long I was in the country, as I had no working visa. He was right, and I had no issue with him enjoying the glory. Peter’s family treated me as one of their own, allowing me to stay with them for a month without any payment or request being made of me.

Peter suggested giving me the value of my half of the trip in cash, so I would have money to travel and purchase a ticket home to the USA, which was fantastic. We came up with a reasonable figure that was affordable for him and a gift for me.

While Peter was in Newport, Rhode Island, for the race that year, he called me daily, sharing details of his time and his enjoyment of the whole event to make me feel as if I were part of the experience. It did help that I gave him an 800 phone number so that he could call at no expense to himself; this way, I felt up to date.

Now I had only a week left of working at ROGUES before I would go to the Gold Coast.

During my final week, I was invited to enter an annual bartenders’ competition in Sydney. The owner of Rogues, Lee, chose to entrust me with the challenge from all the bartenders who worked there.

Lee was pushing me strongly to represent ROGUES, and he was confident I could win. This was a huge dilemma for me as I felt honored to have been chosen to participate, but I also wanted to see Surfers Paradise on the Gold Coast so badly.

WOW, another excellent offer and another validation that I had worked hard to master my craft well enough to be offered this opportunity. It was such an honor, but I had to find a way to let Lee know that I couldn't participate diplomatically.

I thanked Lee profusely and told him that, sad as I felt, it would be wrong of me to accept the challenge. If I won, I would let him down by being absent from the follow-up contests, so he needed to give his next best bartender the opportunity. Thankfully, he understood my dilemma.

Twelve of the best bartenders in Sydney participate in the competition, a full-day event. Then it goes to a further competition, but this time, just the winner from each of the seven territories would participate.

Then, the top three winners go to the “winner-takes-all,” crowning one winning candidate as the “Best Bartender of Australia” for the year ahead. The contest draws a large crowd to watch and motivate the bartenders, and the winner’s perks are substantial.

Time was closing in for me to leave Sydney, and I needed to find a way to make some money while I was visiting Surfers Paradise. Peter had a plan for me. In his business, he had these new products, one of which was a three-sided nail buffer. He gave me about 50 of them and showed me how to use them.

You start with side one, giving a manicure to someone, then after buffing, proceed to use side two, and finally finish off with the third portion of the file. I was now going to start giving people manicures with a five-minute training, using the product he had given me.

He tested it out on a couple of my fingers, and wow, they looked fantastic. I had hope. However, there would be more to this story, which I will post later. OMG amazing!

I had collected over 250 phone numbers of my favorite girls and buddies during my time in Sydney, so I could keep in contact with them once I left.

And in return, when asked, I gave out my parents’ California home phone number, which didn’t go over too well. Mom was answering the house phone at all hours of the day and night when she was home, with messages for me, and boy, did she ever get tired of it? Hahahahah. She did, she got tired and agitated, and of course, I got a lambasting when I got back home.

So next I will be hitchhiking rides to get to my new destination, “ The Gold Coast”. It was 100% illegal at the time to hitchhike, but I didn’t care as I had no other choice. Eight hundred fifty miles into the unknown, here I come!

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ifOnlyi…short stories follow my true-life journey. If you've just found me, you can check out my publication and choose a story of interest or start from # 1.