Returning to the Vancouver winter and collecting my baggage at YVR, my cellphone rings with a call from a friend. “How was your trip?” I respond, “Well. I surfed, sailed under the Harbour Bridge, flew in a helicopter, played golf and rescued two girls from drowning in a rip!”

Welcome to Sydney, New South Wales, at Christmas, where the adventure begins.

Having grown up and loved Sydney for 15 years, and now as a full-time Vancouverite, my family and friends don’t need to lobby very hard to convince me to return for two weeks to soak up some sun, eat some turkey and play backyard cricket (a favourite Aussie past-time) over the Christmas period. Landing a few days earlier — fly Air Canada direct, I flew Air China very in-direct — the mercury is hitting 30 C and I need to ditch my winter threads for more appropriate holiday attire.

Pitt Street in downtown Sydney — the fourth most expensive street in the world for retail rent space — is the perfect place to find the latest summer trends. I lose the jeans and hoodie for some cool Speedo board shorts and a couple of shirts from top Aussie designer Wayne Cooper.

With a pair of thongs (the things typically worn on your feet) thrown in, I’m set!

A day at the beach

As Christmas Eve is fast approaching, I call an Aussie mate and three Irish expats now living in Australia, and a plan is hatched to head out of the city on a surf trip.

With our car loaded with surfboards, we arrive at one of my favourite beaches and secret jewels of the New South Wales Central Coast, Avoca Beach, about 1.5 hours drive north of Sydney.

Now, recognizing that the Irish are as about as adept at ocean surf survival as Torontonians, my Aussie mate Jason and I decide a quick lesson in the danger of rips (strong seaward flowing currents) is in order for the expats. Scorned, we are assured by two of the expats, Steph and Nola, of their swimming pedigree.

Whatever, the waves are four feet high and perfect with a water temperature of 23 C, Jason and I delve into a quality surf session while the expats sunbake on the beach.

Following our surf, we head back to our spot on the beach to warm up; Steph and Nola finally decide to dip their toes.

Wading right into the rip, they are quickly carried out by a strong current.

Panicking and screaming, no one hears or notices their predicament; the three of us left on the beach are not in a position to see the commotion either, and go about relaxing under the midday sun.

Luckily, perhaps an early Christmas present, I tell the other two as they lay in the sun: “This sun is intense, I’m going for a swim.” Leaving my board on the beach, I head into the water. Spotting Nola struggling to keep her head above water, I head over to see what the problem is.

“Adrien, get me out of here, I want out!” Then I hear another voice much further out, it’s Steph and she is in even worse shape by the looks of it, “Adrien! Help! Adrien!”

She disappears from sight and sound. Two Irish girls in a world of trouble.

This story develops over the next five minutes but suffice to say felt like a lifetime.

It ends well after I drag Nola out of the rip and on to a sand bank, and then enlist a couple of surfers to help me find Steph as she disappears between the waves.

Exhausted but back on the safety of the beach, we all reflect on Nola and Steph’s unplanned existential experience.

What do five 20-somethings on holidays do after something like this occurs? One thing and one thing only, a few laid back beers at Avoca Surf Club. Phew, all is good in the world again!

Writers tip to holiday beachgoers in Australia: Always swim in the patrolled area of the beach and between the flags.

After a hectic trip to the beach on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day produces the goods with a 19-pound turkey, some backyard cricket and a drink called ‘Kryptonite’ — so named because it contains enough champagne and melon liqueur to knock out Superman.

It’s a blue-sky day and the older crowd is soaking up the sun on my aunt’s balcony while the younger generation whacks a tennis ball around the backyard with a cricket bat in one hand and a glass of kryptonite in the other. No professional sportsmen here, just a tonne of Christmas cheer.

Sailing season

It’s Boxing Day and for any sailor worth his salt it marks the start of the world’s greatest annual ocean race — the Sydney to Hobart Yacht Race.

With Sydney Harbour in fanfare and the racing yachts crewed by sailing royalty that includes Americas Cup sailors as well as the youngest person to ever circumnavigate the globe solo, Jessica Watson, the fleet will set sail down for Hobart, Tasmania.

The event is not to be missed by any sailor in Sydney this time of year, chartering a spectator boat out to the start line is highly recommended.

However, I forego the opportunity to join the commotion for a casual game of golf instead, knowing that I will be out on the water the following day.

Besides, a casual nine holes on one of Sydney’s 105 estimated golf courses sounds like the perfect way to unwind and get some exercise to work off the Christmas turkey.

The next day I set sail around Sydney Harbour with a boat and skipper borrowed from the Royal Australian Navy Sailing Association.

We anchor off a harbour beach on Sydney’s north shore for some champagne and smoked salmon. Half of the crew decides to dive into the water and swim to the nearby beach, the rest are hesitant because of a perceived risk of sharks in the area.

I learn a few days later that a surfer was attacked by a 1.8-metre Bronze Whaler at the very beach we were surfing at on Christmas Eve. This is Australia, though, and nature can sometimes have a wild side, Aussies just take a laid back approach to life here — a “she’ll be right” attitude.

Hunter Valley Wine Tasting

Moving away from the coast, a few friends and I head up to the world famous Hunter Valley for a wine, cheese and chocolate tasting tour. Yum.

We hire a tour bus driver for $65 each to avoid the need for a designated driver.

It’s beautiful up here, and after a day of free sampling with the Hunter Valley scenery in the background, it’s easy to see why they call Australia the “lucky country.”

Expert travel writer’s pick of vineyards: Buy any wine from Wynwood Estates and you won’t be disappointed. Wine here comes from a vineyard know as, “one of the best in the Hunter Valley.”

Bondi Beach ‘a place you’drather be’

It’s not long until the siren call of the ocean calls me back, so I head out to renowned Bondi Beach for a couple of days, about 10 minutes drive from the Sydney CBD. It’s a place with a “celebrities aren’t anyone and everyone is someone” attitude about it.

Overlooking a Snoop Dogg concert on the beach from a rooftop party across the esplanade, it’s New Year’s Eve and I’m bringing in 2012 with a few requisite Coronas. Earlier in the day, I wake up at a friend’s apartment to capture the last sunrise of 2011 on camera.

If you have never seen the sun rise over the Pacific, then Bondi is the place to be. It’s where the Aussie dream is born every day.

Wrapping up my photos and a quick swim, I head to one of the many small boutique coffee shops for a morning latte. No need for chain shops here, there are too many top-notch baristas with a strong multicultural and Italian influence. I can taste it in my coffee — it’s the taste of satisfaction.

Sydney Harbour, helicoptersand goodbyes

Courtesy of my brother Robbie, and my Dad, I take to the air over the city on a 30-minute helicopter flight.

A perfect vantage point for photos of the harbour and Opera House, I also spot a few dozen climbers endeavouring to reach the summit of the Harbour Bridge by foot.

It’s my last full day in Sydney and a helicopter flight is the perfect way to say goodbye. I’ve done so much in this iconic city, but feel I have barely scratched the surface.

- Adrien Byrne

Copyright (c) The Province

“Learning to sail together can save your marriage”.
- Anon

We don't think so, but it can be a lot of fun doing something as exciting as sailing together- an art, science, sport and lifestyle that many couples enjoy for a lifetime.

There is absolutely nothing only "male" about sailing. Women can and should be as skilled in steering, docking, navigating and MOB drills as men. 

One scenario we see often both here on the coast and the Great Lakes, is the man has more sailing experience and knowledge than the woman. He typically navigates, steers and does the docking while she handles the lines. Both may know their jobs but if the man goes overboard or gets hurt or sick, the woman can't bring the boat back to the dock and often ends up stressed or the target of unpleasant yelling.

Smart men take sailing lessons with their wives (or significant others) because the ASA certification process ensures that they will share a common sailing vocabulary and learn all the necessary skills to be competent and confident sailors. Both understand their mutual sailing abilities, attitudes toward safety and what constitutes a full day of cruising. Better communication will increase the pleasure factor for both parties and is the first step in building the kind of partnership that endures for a lifetime.

From our experience, once the couple's sailing lessons are completed, the men readily admit they have learned a lot more about sailing knowledge, seamanship, boat handling skills "and" their new First Mate!

Women feel the confidence that comes with sailing competence, achieved by mastering the important skills presented in their courses.

Couples come to the Vancouver Sailing Club to become better prepared to sail and cruise together with proven skills and earned confidence.