Weakly---I cling to my upturned boat, my hands growing numb from the cold. How much longer can I hold on? I shiver convulsively, against the early morning breeze, as another spray of water dampens my clothes. Singing at the top of my voice to try and stay conscious. Nausea and dizziness starts to overtake me, as I blink at my watch through the mist. It's been three hours since the missus locked me out with my bottle of rum! note: written about 20 years ago when I worked at Weipa near the tip of Queensland, where it's not uncommon to see upturned boats [tinnies] in back yards, and sprinklers going all night to keep lawns alive in the heat.