I give Heath a call and he’s about 2 days into the 3-day trek across the hot Nullarbor Plain with his wife Elisa and their two kids. He’s driving from his home in Streaky Bay, nestled on the Eyre Peninsula, about smack bang in the middle of Australia. I can hear in his tired voice that he’s had enough of the endless white lines of the road as he stares over red knuckles, deep in a zombie mind melt, watching out for any brumby, kangaroo, or goat that could run blindly into the car’s high beams. But on this trip, there’s no stopping Heath. He’d carry his family on his back to be there if he had to. I could feel his belly emotions swirling down the phone and knew he’ll keep burning the midnight oil to be beside his dad for such a cathartic moment.    

I make my way to the Joske home for one of Heath's mum Jenny’s home-cooked feasts, featuring the best from her garden. Heath’s older brother Sage and sister Violet are down for the occasion, as well as Heath’s friends, Tim and Anna. After dinner, Paul and I digest life on the couch, and what inspired him 41 years ago to buy a set of plans and build a 30-foot catamaran. Paul tells me not to ask him why, but as far back as he can remember all he wanted to be was a boat builder. His family spent their holidays in Apollo Bay, a rugged fishing town populated by lots of commercial fishermen in their beautiful Couta boats. As he got older, he started to learn some wood working skills from his father Hedley, who was a builder. The brains to hands skill came from there. Woodworking felt so natural to him, and although he never did get into the boat building trade, he always knew one day he’d build his own boat. He also has an interest in Polynesian culture, loved Hawaii, and one of his great inspirations was surfer and sailor Joey Cabell from Hawaii. So on one fine day in early 1983, that inner calling and deep passion for his own boat got the better of him, and he picked up the landline. About a week later the plans for his 30-foot James Wharram catamaran were sitting in his letter box.

For Paul, the late 70s were magical, free, and easy. He’d married the finest woman in the world, and lived on 5 acres of paradise right behind the surf. He spent his time shaping a few surfboards a week and living the dream. But soon, Paul found it hard to give any time for the boat, with his son Sage and his daughter Violet stealing his heart and focus. When Heath was born, he knew the boat needed to be shelved. For the next three decades, two lonely hulls sat in the back of his factory as Paul focused all his time on the family, and building surfboards to feed them.