A very Close Encounter with Boydo.
I first met Jim not long after he joined the North Sail loft in Melbourne. I was trimming on Ruffian, a Frers 47. The owner had ordered some new sails from North and demanded that they send someone to help set them up, and we ended up with Jim.
He would’ve been 15 at the time and me an ancient 18, and we pretty much hit it off straight up. Yin and Yang—him being noisy and me relatively quiet, lol.
I had just finished my junior sailing career at Royal Melbourne Yacht Squadron, and with Jim being relatively new to the area, my friends took to him and he fitted right in.
Jim’s mum and dad had a house down in the Gippsland Lakes region up on the hill in Metung, a beautiful old place. It was decided that we make the 4-hour drive down from Melbourne and spend the weekend. Jim, my brother Dave, and myself headed off early one Friday afternoon with me driving my beloved VW Kombi party bus. No partaking of any rum on the drive for me, but that didn’t stop the two in the back. By the time we got to Morwell, they had polished off one bottle and started another.
I needed to go for a piss, so we stopped at McDonald’s for some food and a toilet stop. When I came out of the toilet, Jim was standing on top of the register counter telling the poor staff how to make a Filet-O-Fish with my brother egging him on! I’ve never been kicked out of a Maccas before. I didn’t get to order my meal… we sat in the carpark while they ate theirs. Jim decided to put the rubbish in the bin while I started the car. I heard this noise, a bang, a crunch, then a plea for help. I turned around and—don’t ask me how—but Jim had fallen into the bin! After extraction, I proceeded to drive, and them to the other bottle.
We arrived at the Close residence pretty late to find George, Val, and friends having a party of their own. I pulled my two car mates up the driveway into the house to be met by George and Val at the front door. Jim introduced us, only to pass out while talking to his mum! I didn’t know where to turn at this stage, thinking, what the bloody hell have I got myself into, when George put a whiskey into my hand and said, “Welcome to the family, my son.” That was my introduction to the family Close: Cath, Gary, Greg, and Jim. A formidable bunch when all together—Ghostbusters’ “Don’t cross the b eams” comes to mind! Love them all.
We spent a fair bit of time down in Metung and met a lot of local sailors like Jeff Rose and Fred Haes at both the yacht club and the pub. The only problem was that Jim’s house was a decent stagger uphill from the yacht club.
George and Jim asked if I could give them a hand delivering George’s Tethys 2, a Walker 40 ketch down from Sydney to Melbourne, and of course, I said yes. What a great trip, allways good fun sailing with Jim and his Dad, with his WW2 royal navy stories.
Not long after my 21st birthday party, which was held at Jim’s house, he left Melbourne to let loose on the rest of the world. He was gone for a fair while, but I got regular updates from some far-flung places, usually at 3am and usually pissed, lol.
We have sailed together on many boats from dinghies to 12 metres over the 40-odd years, and there are so many stories to tell.
There are a couple that I won’t go too far into, but one involves a Hookers and Deviants Ball at a certain Melbourne yacht club which involved someone wearing a dress, a headscarf, a birdcage, and a flashing red light, and it wasn’t me.
Through Jim’s adventures around the world, I have met some great and wonderful people that I am proud to call my friends.
Jim is many things: a larrikin, mad as a cut snake, inventive, driven, and loyal come to mind.
He is my brother from another mother and I love him dearly, best mates forever!
Your best mate Boydo. (Boyd Wilson)
