We arrived early, and on New Year’s Eve, my wife, Catherine, and I managed to hold Dream Time’s front-row position in Farm Cove, on the edge of the exclusion zone, without getting arrested, assaulted or damaged. The tiny cove swelled beyond belief with boats bumping, squeezing and pushing into every conceivable space. And just when we thought the bay had reached absolute capacity, another wave of enthusiastic late arrivals somehow managed to burrow inside. Fenders were needed and forced raft-ups were common. Our scope, which began at a moderate 3-to-1 was finally reduced to a measly 1.5-to-1. But Dream Time held, the weather remained calm, and positive vibes and shared merriment in the bay helped reduce a little of the stress between short-fused, close-quartered captains.