Keith visited Sydney twice a year spending time with Bev and his granddaughters. He always looked forward to it, and it always disappointed him. Well, disappointed is the wrong word. He no sooner arrived, than he wanted to return to Cairns. The people in the city worked to a different time-piece from Keith. He liked it slower, quieter, friendlier. He preferred a routine that he saw a purpose to.
Bev seemed to understand this. A few visits back she handed him a map of the harbour, showing all the islands, and all the ferry routes. She also gave him a medium black texta. Each morning on her way to work, she dropped him at the Rose Bay ferry jetty with a cheery ‘hoo roo’.
Back in Cairns, Keith had worked the Daintree River vehicular ferry from when he left school at fifteen until they dumped him when he turned 65.