I feel very grateful for the time I spent with my friend Andrew Ferrier. Our bushwalking and camping trips are particularly memorable and important to me. I have such clear memories of him up to his shins in some creek urging us onward. I recall days spent chatting and laughing around camp fires, lying in hot nylon tents and swinging in hammocks on the 6 Foot Track, at the Needles, on the Coast Walk and at standing camps at Era and Burning Palms. I had my first drink with Andrew on one of our trips to the Needles. I watched him get rescued by a life guard at South Era one stormy day when he got caught in a rip (although I must record that Andrew always denied this, maintaining that the life guard had merely asked how he was doing and swam back to shore beside him). Andrew was strong and determined, and I recall him often having to wait for the rest of us when hiking. I remember a lot of time swimming together, in creeks and rivers, salt water rock pools, under cascades and waterfalls and jumping off rocks. As we got older, I spent a lot of evenings with Andrew going to see bands. This was all new to me and I recall some of those evenings as adventures similar to our bushwalking trips - with Andrew leading the way as always. By this time, Andrew exerted a significant influence on me and our circle. We followed his taste in music and clothes particularly closely. Andrew was sensitive and had a big heart. I well remember him pulling me sharply into line a couple of times when he felt a joke at someone else's expense had gone too far. He was very good natured. Andrew did not follow the path of least resistance. He was his own man and made deliberate choices. The one thing he did not choose, but carried with him always, was the terrific upbringing he had and the love of his parents and sisters. It was unmistakeable.