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In 1992 I was lucky enough to get a port call in Hobart Tasmania. This being the old, pre google and wide spread cell phone days, when we were boated over to the pier we were greeted with an "adopt a sailor" bulletin board. Now I wasn't really looking to get a free dinner with a nice family so they could try and marry me off to their daughter, but an invite did catch my eye. The Early Ford Owners of Tasmania car club was having their monthly meeting that night and invited anyone to come. So myself and about 8 of my car loving shipmates waited at the designated corner that afternoon and what shows up but a bunch of sweet utes, something I had never heard of besides the Ranchero and El Camino. But these were older and one was even a Plymouth, my favorite car maker of all time. (I know, early Ford club, *******ized Plymouth, it just shows utes fit in at any car living community).
Those guys were great, big steak dinner, all the beer we could down, and then the next day a few of them offered to pick us up early to cruise the whole island. So I rode shotgun in that Plymouth 1/2 the time and did the rest in a 63 Galaxy convertible. That car was driven by basically the Boyd or Foose of Tasmania. He took us to his hotrod shop and later I see his stuff all over Australian car magazines.
Between this and a fly fishing trip me and another guy got to go on with the Orlando Martin of Tasmania (no connection to the car club) the next day, made for my favorite Navy memories of my 11 year service.
The rest of Australia treated Tasmania like we inbthe US treat West Virginia, but I tell you Tasmanians are the best.
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