I went to Manly the other day – boy has that changed since the last time I was there –after a storm when Sydney was hit by high winds and rain I’d agreed to help fix one of the boats. 
  My old sailing mate Bill phoned me. “Chaos we pulled the boat out on to the old slipway behind Warren’s place. You know the one down at the bottom of those steep stairs and next to his rundown boatshed, could you start on it tomorrow?” 
  “Is all the gear there? Paper, scrapers and paint?” 
  “Yes mate, it’s all under the tarp.” 
  “OK! Will I see you down there?” 
  “Yes, but it’ll be late in the afternoon.” 
  The next day I clambered down the stairs to start work. 
  I nearly died when I inspected the slipway. It was one of those old wooden frames on rusty metal wheels that was pulled up an old railway line by a steel cable attached to a huge old winch. 
  When I checked the dog that was stopping the frame and boat from heading for the water, I could see it was very used and only just sitting in the cog. I went around and pulled on the cable to make sure the dog didn’t come loose. It seemed OK. It was only later that I realised how silly doing that was. 
  I found all the gear and got to work sanding over all the repairs that had been made to the fibreglass hull. I stopped for a break and had a late lunch and had just started the finishing sanding on the stern. 
  Suddenly I heard a dog barking and a young voice calling out. The next thing a tatty looking black dog came racing around the stern barking and jumping up at me in a friendly manner. The dog was followed by a small boy who I found out was Warren’s son Tim. Like all small boys he wanted to know everything about me and what I was doing. I answered until I was hoarse, then he and the dog disappeared. 
  I was down by the rudder when I heard a huge clunk and the boat started to come down on top of me. I dragged myself up the stern and held on for grim life. Looking over my shoulder I could see the water coming up fast. 
  Bloody hell! Tim must have bumped the winch. 
  I only had time for that thought as the boat slid into the water taking me under, I pulled my drenched body up over the stern into the cockpit. 
  Looking ashore I could see Tim at the winch jumping up and down with excitement … when he saw me he took of up the stairs. 
  But I had other worries. The boat was floating clear of the slipway and I looked like I was going for a ride into the harbour. I looked around wildly and saw the boat was coming close to Warren’s jetty. I scrambled around and found a line. When I got close I jumped onto the jetty and tied the boat up. 
  “Hey Chaos, what in the hell are you doing? The boat has to be painted. You could have got yourself hurt launching the boat on your own.” 
  It was Bill, and by the colour of his face I would say he had run all the way down those stairs. 
  “You didn’t pass a boy and his dog on the way did you?” 
  “Yes. Why are you asking?” 
  “It’s a long story. Let’s get this boat berthed properly and retire to the boat shed … I spotted some beer and rum in there.” 
  “Warren’s wife gave me an esky with some grub in it.” 
  Much later it took Bill and I about an hour to climb the stairs, without a torch and being a few sheets to the wind. 

Mrs Warren’s Pork fillet 

Ingredients 
  1kg thinly sliced pork fillet 
  2 medium sized onions sliced 
  2 green or red peppers seeded and sliced 
  200g button mushrooms sliced 
  1 cup of rich chicken stock 
  2 teaspoons of crushed garlic 
  1 teaspoon of crushed ginger 
  3 tablespoons flour seasoned with black pepper 

Cooking 
  Brown the sliced pork fillet and place into a casserole pot. Fry the onion, garlic, peppers and mushrooms until tender then add to the casserole, add the stock, cover and cook in the oven at 180C for about one hour.