INTO THE BLUE CORAL SEA
Finding an anchorage amongst the bommies at Chilcott can be tricky.
After years of exploring the Great Barrier Reef, it was time for Anui to go beyond the barrier, to the islets and reefs of the Coral Sea. Christine Danger shares how they planned for their voyage and what they experienced.
The Coral Sea Islands Territory is made up of about 48 separate reefs and atolls with a total of 51 small islands some of which are vegetated. It is spread over an extensive geographic area which extends east from the outer edge of the Great Barrier Reef, north to the Torres Straits and south to offshore of Bundaberg. Being such a vast region, it will take a number of voyages to investigate. The appeal is to explore the vast and pristine wilderness, seldom visited and hopefully experience a thriving marine environment protected from direct human impacts by isolation.
We were gone for three weeks in August 2022, covered 626nm, spent time at five different locations, and are still high as kites from the experience. So let’s talk about our preparation, what we saw, how it felt.
Chilcott Islet is a rookery for sooty terns and boobies. Christmas tree worms in a porite coral – a bright patch of colour.
PREPARATION
A buddy boat, not a rally
Our first foray out in the blue yonder was not a voyage we wanted to do on our own. There are rallies organised to take groups of boats out there, but these are not our scene. We wanted to do our own thing, away from crowds. So instead, we went about finding a buddy boat to go with, crewed by people with a similar outlook to ours, for company and for safety. Going with another vessel works best if you are reasonably well matched: crews with similar interests and resourcefulness, boats of comparable performance and size, availability to go at the same time – not as easy as it seems!
By chance we reconnected with Simon and Amanda Anderson on Windsong II in the Whitsundays, a couple we had met two years prior at the Percies and had lots of fun with. We realised we were dreaming of similar adventures and decided to plot our getaway together. The only catch was picking a time when both crews were free of social commitments. With both boats hosting guests on board during July, we hung around the Whitsundays till we were both ready to go and aimed for an August expedition.
RESEARCH
Our bible was the Australia’s Coral Sea Islands and Marine Park book by Peter Sayre. We were reliant on his extensive knowledge of the area. There is a scarcity of reference material about the seldom visited islands and reefs of the Coral Sea, but his 30 years of exploring have no equal. We also downloaded useful blog posts from Cruisingtheedge.com written by Robin Jeffries who has explored the Coral Sea for several years with his partner Sylvie Jambu on their 14m powercat.
Also part of our preparation was reviewing our satellite images of the Coral Sea, pin pointing possible anchorages at different locations and marking them on our navigation software. Satellite imagery is an essential part of the kit for a stress-free approach to anchorages studded with bommies.
We were hoping to take aerial images during our trip. These give a breathtaking and sweeping perspective to already stunning surroundings. Several weeks before setting off, we applied for and were granted a drone permit by the Great Barrier Reef Marine Park Authority, a requirement to take aerial footage in the Coral Sea Islands Territory.
Some coral regrowth visible which gives us hope.
WATCHING THE WEATHER
During the month of July, we began the process of watching the weather through both the Bureau of Meteorology (BOM) and our PredictWind/Iridium satellite system, looking at patterns, average wind strength and direction, length of systems. We were also studying BOM observations at Lihou Reef, Flinders Reef and Holmes Reef in the Coral Sea to compare the actual conditions to the multiple forecast models that PredictWind offers. We found that the European ECMWF model was consistently the most accurate and in fact the only one we paid attention to during our voyage.
Then during the last week of July as we were all getting organised, we went about identifying a suitable weather window for the voyage. We were looking for several days of 15-20kts southeast or less to embark on a 30 hour ocean passage. The Coral Sea Islands provide reasonable shelter from trade winds and ocean swells, so once there, we could hide from stronger conditions if needed and not have to scurry back to the mainland. But we did not want to beat into wind for hours on end to get there. We did not have to wait for long to get a favourable forecast. Both boats were free of social commitments by the end of July, were ready and fully provisioned by August 2, and the next day we were on our way!
Anchorage peppered with bommies. Going in as close as we dare!
PROVISIONING AND BOAT PREPARATION
We are sticklers for thorough servicing on Anui, and thus we really had nothing out of the ordinary to attend to as far as engines, systems, or sails maintenance.
Our fuel tanks were full – 400L of diesel - for the big boat and 80L of petrol for the dinghy. We left with full water tanks too – 400L also – and a watermaker in good working order. Other preparation centered around provisioning. We typically put together a menu to have variety in what we eat and which makes it easier to do the shopping. We freeze a supply of meat and seafood, we get a mix of fresh and canned fruit, we stow away root vegetables, onions and the like that keep for weeks in crates, we pack away other fresh supplies and refrigerate what we can. We make our own yoghurt, bread, biscuits, pizzas, we sprout beans and seeds. We had enough fresh supplies to last for a month, and enough dry or tinned produce for at least another three weeks. We were not going to starve on this trip!
LET'S GO!
Reefing down – it's windy and bouncy. Let's slow her down!
We took off without a specific itinerary but rather a list of possibilities. Our preference was to go to East Diamond Islet but failing this we could have made an easier run to Flinders Reef. As it happened, the weather permitted a direct line to East Diamond, all be it into wind, between 40-60° apparent. What came afterwards was decided along the way based on wind strength and direction, how we felt and what appealed to us!
We did not want to be constantly on the go and were hoping to spend a leisurely time at each spot we stopped at, weather allowing. The least time spent at one anchorage was two days, the longest eight days.
Our 626nm journey took us to five locations. For most of this time we were riding 15-20kt southeast trade winds, but we also had to weather 20-25kt blows. The hardest part was the passage from the Whitsundays to East Diamond, a chaotic ride into wind when we had to really slow the boat down to make things less uncomfortable. Lots of slamming and banging, waves and chop coming at you from all directions. But from then on, we had beam or downwind runs which were a little less bruising.
You might think that once you have seen one reef anchorage you have seen them all, but each one was unique with a different feel, different appeal, different activities you could engage in. The constant was the breathtaking seascapes, the brilliant colours, the staggering amount of birdlife, the clarity of the water, the incredible feeling of being in the middle of nowhere, but safe and protected. The biggest disappointment and most confronting aspect of our voyage was the state of the coral reefs. They were the worst we have ever seen: a desert underwater.
So let’s give you a glimpse of what we saw at each of our hops.
EAST DIAMOND ISLET
Incredible seascape of East Diamond Islet and reef.
Oh what a feeling arriving there after a 28 hour passage from the Whitsundays! The vastness of the sparkling bay, the excellent protection behind the vegetated island, our anchorage in clear sand in 8-12m of water, the abundant bird life, all this contributed to a feeling of awe. We stayed at East Diamond for eight days, both in calm 10-15kts conditions and windier 15-25kts and felt totally safe. We saw more sea birds than we have ever seen, there were numerous chicks at all stages of development, we enjoyed crystal clear water with 30-50m visibility. On calm days we bird watched, swam, fished, enjoyed the warm sparkling ocean, took thousands of photos. On windier days, we kite surfed, an amazing activity in the middle of the Coral Sea. What was less uplifting was the state of the coral. As snorkellers and free divers, we were shocked: grey barren rocks, devoid of corals and with depleted fish life. Maybe some of the remote bommies at depth were better, but without scuba gear we did not see much to rejoice about.
CHILCOTT ISLET
Part of the Coringa Group, this islet is in a nature reserve that also encompasses the Herald Cays. It is 70nm west of East Diamond. This is definitely a location for calm conditions. The anchorage is not well protected, nor comfortable in 15kts SE at high tide, with a persistent side roll whether you drop the pick as close to the beach as the bommies allow or stay out. We were anchored over sand in 6m of water in a gutter lined with bommies. It would have been easy to just up anchor and go the very next morning, but we were glad we did not because Chilcott was well worth exploring. Again, the bird life was outstanding, with huge colonies of sooty terns, noddies, boobies of various kinds, tropic birds and frigatebirds. Snorkelling was surprisingly better than at the Diamond Islets, with evidence of recovering corals, possibly helped by the green conservation zone.
NORTH EAST HERALD CAY
North East Herald Cay beautiful anchorage in the sand.
Welcome to our island paradise! What made is so? For a start we were spoilt for choice when it came to finding a perfect anchorage. You could easily make your way to a shallow spot free of bommies. We anchored in 4m of water over sand. The sun was shining, revealing amazing graduations of colour in the crystal-clear water. There was a huge number of birds again. At North East Cay we saw courtship flights of red-tailed Tropicbirds, feisty aerial pursuits of Boobies by Frigatebirds, the cutest fluffy chicks waddling around on the beach, bright red hermit crabs borrowing beautiful shells as their home, mean looking grey eels feeding on crabs in the rock pools. We found the perfect lagoon behind a long sand bank for kite surfing away from the busy bird rookeries. We were there for three days and thoroughly enjoyed our stay.
Windsong II and Anui side by side at North East Herald Cay.
SOUTH WEST HERALD CAY
You might think, another cay, another bird rookery, and only 6nm from the last, but let us tell you this one had a very different feel. The islet was smaller, the sand coarser, the vegetation lower, the nearby reefs encircling the anchorage. It felt wilder and more remote. It was not as easy to make your way to an anchoring spot, but once in you felt closer to the action. We were surrounded by birds again, keen to investigate the boat but not interested in spending the night, having comfortable nests to return to – no bird poo cleaning duty! We snorkelled there in a few spots, finding some small treasures to focus on and plenty of fish, but still dismayed at the devastation. We could have stayed longer than two days, but the weather forecast showed it was wise to move on. We would easily return though!
Two specs in the stunning seascape of South West Herald Cay.
WEST HOLMES REEF
Our last stop in the voyage, and the only one where we were anchored alongside a reef platform rather than sheltered behind an islet, we found West Holmes Reef reasonably protected considering the wind which was blowing. We anchored in clear sand in 8m of water with plenty of space to choose from. We were there for two days. We fished and snorkelled on the first day, then the wind really picked up to well over 25kts. We hunkered down the next day till a small break in the weather on the following day allowed us to head back to the coast before the conditions really deteriorated. We did not explore the Holmes Reefs as much as we would have liked to because of the weather. Snorkelling was hard work among the labyrinth of gutters close to where we were anchored, with the strong current pouring out of the reef flats. The coral was very damaged. It may well have been different in the Division Passage separating South and West Reefs, which is renowned for spectacular sights at depth of 30m if you scuba dive.
The ride is never smooth in the Coral Sea.
Our first escapade into the Coral Sea will be one of many. This voyage has opened up a new area of exploration for us, so there will be more of these far-fetched adventures. We can’t wait to go further north, further south, further east! See you out there, somewhere in the deep blue sea!
Swain Reefs Expedition
Sunrise at Elusive Reef, a tiny speck in the ocean.
People often say: “What is there left to explore?”. We live in a world where it is presumed that everything that can be discovered, has been discovered. But have YOU discovered it? We think that if you look closely and do a little research, you can find an adventure, a chance to explore, experience sights and wildlife you have never or seldom seen. Our June 2023 expedition to the Swain Reefs was exactly that.
The Swain Reefs are a labyrinth of about 370 patches of reefs covering an area of approximately 16,900km2 lying between 220km and 280km offshore from Gladstone. They represent the most eastern development and one of the most remote locations on the Great Barrier Reef. Imagine being in the open ocean, hundreds of kilometres from land. Apart from a maze of coral reefs that seem to rise from depth of hundreds of meters from the ocean floor, there is nothing else but deep blue ocean. But beware, once out there, you are a long way from civilisation and on your own!
The sheer distance from the mainland and the complex structure of the reef restricts people from exploring this area. It is beyond the range of one-day tourist vessels. The region is relatively unexplored by private cruising yachts. There is scarce reference available about the Swain Reefs, which in a way makes them even more intriguing. If you hunt around the internet, you will find articles galore about sport fishing, the best lures for different species of fish and more photos of fishermen with their large catches than you care to see. But try searching for cruising information and you will find very little. So we had to remedy that! We went about compiling detailed notes of our voyage. Here is our track through the mosaic of reefs.
Three weeks of exploration at the Swain Reefs in June 2023.
What attracted us to the Swain Reefs in the first place is their remoteness, the wildlife both above and under the surface. There is something irresistible about exploring the less frequented parts of the Great Barrier Reef, about the prospect of seeing, feeling, photographing and writing about this amazing world. We spent hours studying satellite maps, marking possible anchorages inside U shaped reefs and it was then a matter of having the right conditions to go which is much harder than it sounds. The right weather window presented itself in June 2023.
Given the predominant winds at the start of the winter cruising season, you have an easier and shorter run if you leave from the reefs of the Capricorn & Bunker Group than from the mainland town of Gladstone or from the Keppel Isles. The Southern Reefs are already about 55 nm offshore and give you the best angle to sail northeast.
The distance if leaving from Lady Musgrave at the southern end of the Bunker Group and aiming for Hixson Cay at the southern tip of the Swain mosaic is about 100 nautical miles, which means leaving the lagoon on dusk or earlier in the afternoon depending on the speed of your boat to arrive there mid-morning. This is what we did.
Another option which we might take next time is to leave from the Percy Isles, go to the Western end of the Reef and continue moving east or track northeast. You miss out on the reefs at the southern end of the mosaic, and instead head towards the central reefs which are in better condition and move northeast. It does mean a 50 to 70 nm sail depending on which first reef you aim for, but the “Prongs” on the western edge of the Swain network are easy to anchor at so an arrival at the end of the afternoon is manageable.
We were at the Swain Reefs for exactly 21 days. We could have stayed longer, but the reef is not the place to be in sustained 25-30+ knot winds and rain. We were very fortunate with the weather we did get, which allowed us to move around and explore comfortably and unhurriedly without needing to hide anywhere for any period. For the entire three weeks, the strongest wind gusts were 18 knots, something unheard of!
There are many patches to explore within the Swain Reefs. We covered the southeastern reefs thoroughly, but there is a lot more to see in the centre and northern regions. There was a marked difference in coral health the further north we went. We would have like to spend more time exploring the central and northern reefs and stay put for longer periods in beautiful anchorages. But we are pleased with what we achieved.
We have to be honest and say that the state of the coral in the south was appalling. We had been warned that a severe Crown of Thorns Starfish outbreak had devastated the reef in 2017, but we had not expected to see such utter destruction, in some locations leaving nothing alive. It was the worst we had ever observed at the Great Barrier Reef. Despite the ravaged coral in the south in particular, the fish life was plentiful. We saw more fish, big and small, than we had ever come across. It was great fun observing, fishing and feeding ourselves daily!
We did a lot of motoring, but that is the price you pay for near ideal reef hopping conditions. The full diesel tanks at the beginning of the trip were depleted. So were the jerricans of petrol for the dinghy! Once the big boat is anchored, you do a lot of exploring in the little one!
From a gear point of view, we were very happy with our newly installed lithium battery bank. Plenty of power, no stress. We were also delighted with our satellite navigation. It really is a must for reef exploration and since getting equipped with it two years ago, it has been a game changer. It means you can plan thoroughly and your approach into reef anchorages is safer and far less nerve-wracking.
SO WHAT WERE THE HIGHLIGHTS?
Our research paved the way to spending time at attractive, safe, stress-free anchorages. Every time we entered a lagoon, we could not help but exclaim: “Wow, look at those colours!” We had done our homework and it meant we could enjoy the remoteness. We had earmarked those reefs offering horseshoe shaped protection, a shallow sandy bottom, straight forward access free of obstructions and 100m swing room clear of coral heads. Here are a few aerials showing the best we enjoyed. The advent of drones has made such a difference: you get a unique perspective as well as useful information to guide your anchoring, snorkelling and general exploring.
L-R: Good protection offered at Hook Reef with its U shape; Tucked in at Frogs Reef which we renamed Frogs Hollow!; There is that U shape reef again, this time at East Cay.
We experienced extremes of highs and lows. Some reefs such as Horseshoe Reef and East Cay had extensive areas of destruction where the coral was in the worst condition we had ever seen, looking like crumbling ruins. Six years after the Crown of Thorn outbreak, there was little sign of recovery. We despaired and shed tears. But those same reefs had pockets of delight where colour and vibrant life was present, either spared or starting to heal ever so slowly.
L-R: Crumbling reef struggling to survive; The highs: no dive is complete without a patch of anemonefish and damsels; The splendour of pink anemonefish in the middle of struggling coral.
Regardless of the state of the coral, exploring the Swain Reefs was most satisfying. The sense of achievement and awe at being in such a remote and extraordinary location, far off the beaten track, in amazingly calm conditions was sensational.
Our favourite all round reef both above and under the surface was Hammer Reef, in the northern Swain. The anchorage was easy to get to and comfortable. The marine life was plentiful, colourful, varied. It was such a relief after all the underwater damage we had witnessed. Hammer Reef was a real treat! There we enjoyed the awesome foresome of reef hopping: healthy coral, abundant fish life, shallow protected anchorage, light conditions.
L-R: Huge gorgonian fans and colourful coral adorn the edges at Hammer Reef; Each to their sand patch at Hammer Reef.
Although we felt very fortunate at most anchorages, one reef topped all others for the sense of being in an insignificant vessel in the middle of the immense ocean, far, far away from all other reefs, crafts or human beings: Elusive Reef. This reef is on the northeastern extremity of the Swain network, sitting out in the middle of the ocean by itself and so well named! We were there on our own which reinforced that feeling of being at the limits, on the edge.
Anui being elusive at Elusive Reef – see if you can spot us!
And at a more down to earth level, we were lucky enough to enjoy very tasty meals thanks to Wade’s successful spearing, which supplemented our food stocks in style. Nothing beats feasting on a freshly caught crayfish, indulging in sashimi coral trout or ceviche sweetlip!
The Coral Trout that got away!
We can’t wait to go back out there and continue our explorations…
Watch Out ... Turtles About
by Rosemary Jilderts
In our wanderings up and down our beautiful coastline, anchoring in out of the way places, off deserted beaches and tiny tropical islands we have seen a lot of turtles. Some have been basking on the surface, while others were trundling up beaches leaving tractor-like marks in the sand as they headed to their favourite nesting place.
As humans, we enjoy watching the wildlife doing what they do naturally and are greatly entertained by them. Who isn’t intrigued by Mum digging her nest and by the hatchlings when they emerge seven to twelve weeks later? It can take them two or more days to emerge from their eggs then they must begin their dangerous trek to the water which they do as a group and usually at night and many times they are watched by humans (and, of course, predators). Talk to snorkellers and SCUBA divers and I’m sure they’ll tell you how much they enjoy watching and filming turtles’ underwater activities. We seem to find every aspect of their lives interesting.
Unfortunately, while we love these creatures we are also their greatest threat with boat strikes a common cause of injury and death. However, this is one problem that we can avoid by not racing around in our dinghies or other motorised craft at full bore, inadvertently smashing into a turtle and cracking its protective shell.
Evie is the smaller of the two rescued turtles and is without a satellite tag. Image courtesy of GBRMPA
Evie is set free to return to her ocean home. Image courtesy of GBRMPA
GBRMPA asks all beach goers (and that includes those of us coming by boat) to ‘watch out – turtles about’ especially at the time of year when they are coming ashore to lay their eggs. It is quite acceptable to watch these activities but there are guidelines which we should all follow in order to protect these animals.
GBRMPA asks - In general
• Never touch, grab or lean on turtles, hatchlings or eggs
• Do not try to feed turtles
• Do not light campfires on turtle nesting beaches.
When viewing from boats
• Be on the lookout for surfacing turtles in areas such as shallow reef flats and seagrass beds. Travel slowly in these areas, with no wake
• If a turtle is close to your vessel, engage neutral and allow the animal to move freely
• Do not encircle or trap turtles with vessels. Allow an escape route
• Do not drive your vessel over a turtle
• Do not pursue turtles if they try to avoid the vessel or flee the area.
When viewing turtle nesting
• Do not approach a turtle emerging from the water or moving up the beach
• On sighting a turtle emerging from the water, keep still and turn off all lights until laying begins
• Do not alter the environment in any way
• Limit the use of light by turning torches off whenever possible and viewing with ambient light. Turtles may get confused by artificial light and may not finish nesting
• Use low wattage torches (less than three-volt, two-cell) with red cellophane or a filter over the bulb
• Never shine lights directly onto turtles – angle the light towards the sand at the side of the turtle
• Stay well clear (at least two metres) of turtles nesting, covering their nest and moving up or down the beach – never stand in their pathway or make them alter their course
• Keep still and quiet – sudden movements will disturb turtles
• Remain behind turtles as they dig and lay their eggs – do not stand in front or where they can see you
• Restrict use of flash photography to a minimum and only take flash photos during the egg laying phase. Always take these photos from behind the turtle
• Turn off all lights and do not use flash photography when the turtle is returning to the sea
• Remove lights and back away from the turtles if they appear stressed
• Watch where you step to avoid crushing eggs or hatchlings. Do not disturb or dig up nests.
When viewing hatching
• Stay well clear (at least 2m) of nests where hatchlings are emerging
• Limit the use of light and never shine lights directly onto hatchlings. Hatchlings may become confused by artificial light and may not make it to the ocean
• Use low wattage torches (less than three-volt, two-cell) with red cellophane or a filter over the bulb
• Do not shine torches out to sea when hatchlings are in the water – this may cause the hatchlings to return to shore
• Allow hatchlings to dig themselves out of the nest and run to the sea without disturbance or assistance
• Do not touch or handle hatchlings
• Never interfere with natural events (for example, rescuing hatchlings from seabirds or predatory fish).
Marine Parks Legal Requirements
You must not ‘take’ turtles or their eggs in the Great Barrier Reef Marine Park unless you have a Marine Parks permit. Note: ‘Take’ includes removing, gathering, killing or interfering with, or attempting to take. There may be special arrangements for Traditional Owners.
Hatchlings will orient towards the brightest light so, if you find yourself anchored off a beach when you notice them heading to the sea don’t show any bright lights that will disorientate them. As they head to sea they will use cues such as wave direction, current and magnetic fields. It is believed that the trip across the beach and swimming away imprints these cues so the hatchlings can return decades later when they are ready to breed. It could be 5 to 10 years when their shell length is 20-40 cms before these hatchlings are seen again on their migration back to inshore foraging areas. They will stay there until they are ready to breed.
In those 5 to 10 years they may have lived in one place or they could have drifted on ocean currents for many years until they have reached sexual maturity. Between 20 and 50 years of age they will migrate up to 3000km to a nesting area in the vicinity of their birth and both sexes will then mate with multiple partners. It’s an amazing process. Sperm is stored in the females’ bodies and this will fertilise between three and seven clutches of eggs that they will lay during the season.
Hatchlings digging their way out of their nest prior to making their way to the ocean
Image courtesy of Tourism & Events Queensland
Most boaties will have seen turtles mating on the surface of the ocean, sometimes there are more than two. A month or two later the turtles’ first nesting attempt for the season will occur and will happen again fortnightly. This is usually in summer. The females drag themselves up the beach and the males generally will head back to their foraging areas. The fun is over for them.
The female relentlessly digs a body pit, excavates a vertical chamber to hold the eggs … an exercise that usually takes about 45 minutes … and in 10-20 minutes she will lay about 120 eggs. She fills in the pit and one to two hours after emerging from the sea she will crawl back totally exhausted. She will make the next clutch of eggs once offshore and these will be fertilised from the sperm store. When she has finished nesting she will return to her foraging area and it may be between two and eight years before she returns to nest again.
The temperature of the nest during incubation determines the sex of the hatchlings. Dark, warm sand results in mainly females while males will usually result from white, cool sand. These may take longer to hatch.
It’s an involved and interesting process but one fraught with danger. We are always hearing warnings about how to reduce the dangers of injury to turtles so it’s wonderful news when we hear of success at rehabilitation of injured animals.
And here’s one piece of great news that recently came across my desk ...
TURTLES DIVE BACK INTO THE BIG BLUE AT BOWEN
I have already talked about the dangers of boat strikes on turtles but that is only one danger. There are many hazards for these animals from crocodiles to medical problems. Here in North Queensland, however, we have a great community that is concerned for the animals’ welfare and are lucky to have the means to try to help these injured animals. A community event took place in Bowen in November where two previously sick and injured green turtles were returned home to the Great Barrier Reef.
One of them was a big green turtle (nicknamed “Izzy”) that narrowly escaped being lunch for a hungry crocodile and the other was a smaller green turtle (nicknamed “Evie”) that had been found stranded in muddy mangroves. Both of these animals had been recovering from their ordeals at Reef HF Aquarium’s turtle hospital in Townsville.
This turtle bears two marks that would appear to be from a propeller strike. Luckily in this case the shell has not been cracked. Image courtesy of John Jilderts
Aquarist Krystal Huff said that Izzy, who had been rescued by Ecobarge Clean Seas volunteers after being washed up on a Whitsundays beach, had suffered a series of traumatic experiences before her rescue in August 2013 and entering care.
“Izzy had very distinct holes in her shell, tail and flipper, and scrapes down the side of her body,” Krystal said. “However, it was apparent that she had more than a close encounter with a croc. She also had a previous and relatively fresh break in her shell that was clearly the result of a serious boat strike.
“Although crocodiles sometimes catch and eat sea turtles, this one was almost certainly taking advantage of the already weakened condition of Izzy and opportunistically trying to snag a meal.
“Despite this, an adult turtle is no easy target even for a big predator like a crocodile, and with some luck and no doubt determination, Izzy was able to escape intact.”
Izzy snug in the back of the ute. Image courtesy of GBRMPA Izzy is easily identifiable by her satellite tag. Image courtesy of GBRMPA
Weighing in at 120kgs, it is believed that Izzy is more than 40 years old and is one of the biggest turtles to have been treated at the turtle hospital. When she was found on Conway Beach she was emaciated and dehydrated. “Even when she was admitted to the hospital,” Krystal continued, “it took quite some time for her to regain her strength and appetite. And while the soft tissue healed up quickly it took a lot longer for the shell to heal. “In the end she fought against all odds and recovered. She still retains a number of battle scars on her shell but thanks to a nourishing diet and medical care, she’s now well enough to go home.” Evie, the smaller green turtle to be rescued, was found fatigued and stuck in mangroves at Brisk Bay in Bowen. She is believed to be between 25 and 30 years old. “She was slightly underweight at around 47 kilograms but after five months in care she is now a healthy 53.4 kilograms, thanks to some TLC, food, worming and warm water,” said Krystal.
Izzy is carried to the water’s edge by staff from Reef HQ and Bowen Sea Turtle Assessment and Rehabilitation Facility. Image courtesy of GBRMPA Izzy on the sand ready to enter the water.
Image courtesy of GBRMPA
The Bowen Sea Turtle Assessment and Rehabilitation facility helped in the recovery of both of these turtles by providing initial treatment before they were taken to the turtle hospital in Townsville. The turtle hospital opened in 2009 and since then has cared for 177 marine turtles, with many of them eventually becoming well enough to be released.
Female turtle digging her nest. Image courtesy of Tourism & Events Queensland
Turtle is breaking off pieces of coral to reach the algae trapped underneath. Image courtesy of Simone Matucci
The life cycle from hatching to nesting.
The community has demonstrated a strong interest and support for Reef HQ Aquarium’s turtle hospital so in appreciation the public was invited to view the release of Izzy and Evie back into the Marine Park. Port Denison Sailing Club in Bowen was the venue for the release which happened on Thursday November 27, 2014. The event was attended by Reef HQ Aquarium director, Fred Nucifora; Aquarist Krystal Huff; and Bowen Sea Turtle Assessment and Reheabilitation’s Tracey Bazzo along with a large contingent of the public, including many school children.
So – congratulations to all involved. It is a job well done.
In the Wake of the Ancient Mariners
an East African Safari from Kenya to Zanzibar in a small catamaran
There is no sunset like an African sunset.
by William ‘Bill’ Kosar
It was propitious that we started our journey with the first day of the Kaskazi (the North East Monsoon). The same wind that has built empires; that created a slave trade and the same wind that moved the capital of Oman from the fiery deserts of Arabia a century and a half ago to the temperate climate of East Africa in Zanzibar.
Trade along East Africa is not a recent phenomenon. It has been going on for millennia. The Ancient Greeks wrote about it. The wind that drove Arab, Indian and Portuguese traders up and down the coast of East Africa in search of exotic cargoes including Spices, Gold and Slaves.
We here in East Africa can literally walk on the beach in the footsteps of these ancient mariners which I thought nothing of when I learned in primary school (and forgot) about the Portuguese including Vasco da Gama until late in adult life when his story came to life for me. I am blessed to live between the towns of Malindi and Mombasa in Kenya. Recently I organised a walking tour of Malindi for my Rotary Club and visited the mosque where the Chinese Admiral Zheng worshipped, the ruins of the mosque where Tunisian traveler Ibn Battuta worshipped and where Da Gama built a chapel where Jesuit St Francis Xavier celebrated Mass also in Malindi.
Ngalawa – The name and the outrigger technology was adapted from the outrigger lakana of the Austronesian Malagasy people of Madagascar.
In fact as legend goes, the very first giraffe1 seen in China was a gift from the Sultan of Malindi to the Emperor of China which was brought back to China by Zheng He. Having cleared out of Kilifi, Kenya on Sunday, we made for Mtwapa Creek on the northern boundary of Mombasa County with deckhand Sunday (yes, that really is his name!) and first time sailor Nabil. Soon after we departed there was much jumping up and down by punctuated by shouts of Samaki! We left before dawn the next morning to begin the delivery down to Tanzania to take part in this year’s Dar Tanga Yacht Race which was to begin on December 6. We arrived in Tanga, Tanzania around 9pm that night and officially cleared in to Tanzania the following day. My wife Casandra had driven from our home in Watamu, Kenya, about five hours by road to the north, and arrived later that day.
Previous Tanga Race crew Hidde (who would be sailing his own yacht Unicorn this year with a paying crew) met us the following day. Hidde and Sunday would then continue on delivering the yacht to Dar-es-Salaam in time for the Race which starts and ends in Dar. After the boat left before dawn the next morning, Nabil, Cassandra and I along with our drive began the six hour journey home.
We seemed to be buddy boating with Vake Lele on the way to Tanga. Just past the northern tip of ZNZ.
THE DAR TANGA YACHT RACE
This was CassandravillE’s second attempt (and my third). The Dar Tanga Yacht Race is the oldest (over 50 years) and longest (over 250nm total) offshore sailboat race in East Africa. There were two classes: racing and cruising, the latter which allowed for the use of engines but with deductions from the handicap based on usage. We chose the latter. My racing crew consisting of old sailing friend Karen-Ann from Toronto and crew Rob from South Africa had only arrived the day before. Karen-Ann had sailed with us in the previous year’s Tanga Race but we only met Rob, who was referred to us from the crew pool, the night before the race. Both Rob and Karen-Ann were national Hobie Cat champions in their home countries.
Start at Dar.
The first leg from Dar to Tanga began off rather slowly. Our engine failed to start. When I shouted over to Unicorn, Hidde, whom I had left in charge of CassandravillE while I had returned home to Kenya, replied that the fundi (the generic Kiswahili term for tradesman be it an electrician, plumber, mechanic, whatever) never showed up. Sigh. The decision was made to sail ‘old school’ i.e. without a motor!
We made it to the start line in plenty of time but were annoyed when Van on Nahoon said he couldn’t steer so we gave way. That cost us ... (and we later protested!) We had a hard time making the first mark. Unicorn meanwhile powered across the line as he said he would but completely ignored the first mark. We were off the south eastern shore of Zanzibar before sunset. Along the way we encountered some Zanzibari fishermen who were holding up their catch! In other circumstances we would have come alongside to buy some fresh samaki!
We watched the sun set over Zanzibar as Rob cooked a supper of Campbell’s Chunky soup and pasta and the left over tinned ham which Karen-Ann, who is normally a vegetarian ate heartily.
Rob could sleep like the dead but could also awaken in a second like a zombie. Karen-Ann called him a Spider Monkey. He was hyperactive with OCD always looking for a something to do or fix when he was awake.
Just after midnight Karen-Ann was on watch. I think I had dozed off on the port hull cockpit. Karen-Ann who is spiritual and ‘sees things’ and just happens to know when to divert from course to find people drowning or in need of help at sea, saw an older man sitting on the engine box in a black and white hoodie with penguins on it just enjoying the sail. When I awoke, he was gone. She asked me if the former owner had died (I just checked Lionel is fine and on the South Island of New Zealand) or someone who had previously sailed on the boat. Eerie! I still get shivers as I write this and Rob wanted to hear nothing of it!
In any event we went on for several hours to see the most spectacular sunrise over the Indian Ocean to the East of us.
Ever since we reached the coast of Zanzibar we were shadowing Vakalele all night and the following day with one or the other ahead. (Vakalele was in the racing class, we were in cruising class.)
We arrived at the outer limits of Tanga Harbour at around sunset but then just drifted in fighting the outgoing tide. Tanga is difficult at night with so many confusing lights coupled with fishing boats with huge lights on them and below the water. As a Chinese dredger was coming at us we asked the Race Committee if we could consider ourselves finished and then accept a tow in.
Sunset Tanga Yacht Club.
And there we were DFL3. Quadruple circumnavigator Roy Starkey (and author of Around and Around and Around) immediately rowed over to us with a chilled bottle of bubbly as we celebrated our arrival (it had been pre-arranged with now friend Roy).
But we did not use the motor for one second for the entire race (we had no choice!) and when things finally shook out, on corrected time we came in second! The next day or so was a rest day with annual rum punch party followed by silly awards. It was also Cassandra’s birthday and I had arranged for a massive chocolate cake to be baked. Unfortunately, Cassandra who had driven down from Kenya earlier in the day was not well, left early before we could sing Happy Birthday to her. I was able to get a sizable chunk of cake (not big enough she later claimed!) which she took with her when she drove back to Kenya the following morning before the start of the leg back to Dar on Monday at 1020 AM.
RETURN TO DAR
As usual, we got a bad start (we do need to work on those!) but as soon as we raised our spinnaker it was if someone turned on the rocket boosters! We pulled way ahead of Vakalele and Unicorn and were soon passing other yachts. At one point we caught up too and passed Samaki and were with them for several hours. However, after night fell, we hit our first fishing net around 9pm. Fortunately Rob, a rescue swimmer with South Africa’s famed National Sea Rescue Institute (‘NSRI’) was able to work it loose. The fishermen also came by to assist. We needed to turn the outboard on for about 10 minutes mostly in idle to get away (adding to our penalty!). For the rest of the night we were constantly altering course to get off the shallows and avoiding fishing boats and their unlit nets. Sunrise saw us far south of Stone Town and we could see the Dar Cement factory looming ahead for hours. We crossed the line officially at 8.17am. Another great race.
After a Lebanese breakfast at the Msasani Slipway Mall, Rob immediately jumped ship as he had a flight later that day back to Johannesburg. Karen-Ann and I tidied up the boat. I then took her to lunch at Salt Restaurant which was owned by the daughter of Samaki’s owner. She also flew back late that night to Toronto.
DECEMBER 12 – CLEARED OUT OF DAR-ES-SALAAM
On the delivery home, I would be joined by friend Hidde (of Unicorn) along with Georg, a German friend of his from Kampala, Uganda.
The Tanzanian Revenue Authority (‘TRA’) said that next time we sail into Dar that they need to inspect the yacht upon arrival. We did succeed in getting our transire to sail to Zanzibar on the following morning.
We left Dar on Friday 13 at first light bound for Zanzibar. We saw the massive high speed Azam Catamaran Kilimanjaroferries several times during the six hour voyage and passed close by Chumbe Island, the site of a horrendous ferry disaster several years earlier with hundreds of lives lost.
As we approached our anchorage near the Beach House restaurant in Stone Town we passed close by two large catamarans. The skipper of the Lagoon 57 threw a six pack of EIXX! Mozambican beer onto our trampoline! Later than evening Dante, the skipper knocked on our hull and we had a long chat. It seems he is also a volunteer with NSRI and he knows Rob Fine as well as delivery skipper Mike Boon who sailed CassandravillE up from Cape Town several years ago when we first bought her! Small world.
WALKING TOUR OF STONE TOWN
After clearing in to Zanzibar, and a late lunch at the famous Mercury’s Restaurant (named after legendary rock band Queen’s late, flamboyant front man, Freddy Mercury (who was born in Stone Town not far from the beach) Hidde, who has lived and sailed in Tanzania, for almost 30 years took us on a walking tour of Stone Town.
Stone Town anchorage.
Hidde was quite the tour guide and he knew the ancient narrow lanes like the back of his hand. Our tour included the world famous Spice Market (did I mention that Zanzibar and neighbouring Pemba are THE Spice Islands! Indeed the aroma of the clove trees reaches far out to sea! There we searched for vanilla extract and perfume for Cassandra as well as buying some sweet dried dates and some Zanzibari bread for breakfast.
On the way back to the boat, we stopped at the open air dining market Forodhani with its dozens of choices of Arabic and East African cuisine for a shawarma and fresh sugar cane juice (no beer here! Zanzibar is still heavily Muslim).
The next morning we went back to TRA at the Ferry Terminal to clear out. TRA was not an issue and gave us a transire to Kilifi. We then went to immigration which was for arrivals so they sent us to the Departures counter. When we got there the young man said that we needed a clearance from Zanzibar Maritime Authority (‘ZMA’) as well as an inspection and that we had to sail by their tower.
The ZMA guy wasn’t around so we sat and waited. Then, Zanzibar Port Health came up to us and made us follow him to his office. He wanted to see our Yellow Fever cards. Only I had mine but I pointed out that since we were all over 60 it wasn’t necessary (repeating Brian Barton’s experience in Tanga). I even pointed out to him the large poster in his office that it wasn’t necessary for over 60 and that in any event we were leaving.
He then demanded $30 USD from each of us which I told him we didn’t have. I then told him, with all due respect, I am a legislative drafter by profession who has written over 100 laws in Africa and was curious if he could show me the law or the regulation. I asked this several times. I noted that he had a computer, perhaps we could look it up online? He then left and said he would be back with it.
Ancient and new nautical technologies.
In the meantime Hidde spoke to the two ladies remaining in the health office and told them that East African Community4 has just one law for these things but they insisted that Zanzibar was different. In my absence he told the ladies that I was a ‘big man with the UN’ and that I know we were being played. He also reminded them that no government agency in Tanzania was allowed to take cash and that we would have to pay at the bank and bring back the receipt.
In the meantime I went looking again for ZMA and some guy from Zanzibar Port Corporation said that we needed to get his permission too and that he needed ‘chai’ (‘tea’ - a euphemism for a bribe in East Africa). I called Hidde to come from the next office while I went around looking for ZMA. I then went back to Immigration and found the first officer that I had spoken to at Arrivals. He then had me fill out some forms and then stamped all three of us out! He took only my facial recognition photo.
I then called Hidde and told him to come immediately that we had been cleared out. He had told the ladies that the captain needed them and then we quickly left and made for the boat stopping only R Forodhani Gardens for a Swahili kahawa (coffee).
AZAM MARINA
After hastily departing from Stone Town we sailed about 5nm north to the Azam Marina. What a treat for CassandravillE! This is the only proper marina in all of East Africa with the next closest being Richard’s Bay in South Africa! The boat and her sails were treated to a proper fresh water wash down. The first one in years! Luckily as well, we were able to use the running water to flush out a leaky petrol mtungi (jerry can) as well as have a few beers with some South Africans on a massive charter catamaran. Although the marina seemed expensive ($50/night, $25 per half day) it was well worth the experience of being able to actually step off the sailboat onto something firm and not into a bouncing dinghy!
Azam marina.
KENDWA
After several hours and the wash down, we were off up the west coast of Zanzibar to make for Kendwa which is at the very northern tip of Unguja Island where we anchored for the night.
Not having a dinghy was getting tiring with us again having to swim from the yacht to the beach for dinner and drinks. My wish list for this year includes a dinghy or kayak to get from the boat to the shore without a 200 yard swim.
TANGA
Our final destination in Tanzania was back to Tanga (where we had first cleared in a month earlier) for fuel and dinner. We left very early the next morning to make our way home to Kenya bound for the Funzi Keys in Kenya where we would anchor for the night. It also saw me go up the mast in the boson’s chair for the first time in my life to fix the flag halyard!
Kilimanjaro High Speed catamaran ferry approaching Stone Town.
After a breakfast including fresh-brewed Kenyan coffee at dawn, we started sailing north to Kilifi where we would officially clear into Kenya. On the way, we saw a White Marlin (Hidde said it was a sail) dancing about a 1⁄4 mile across the Ocean astern of us. What a sight!
The motor sail back was uneventful and we arrived back in Kilifi where we cleared in the next day and took the long drive up to Malindi (for immigration) and back to the Kilifi Boat Yard. There, Hidde and Georg had a taxi waiting to take them to the bus stage in Mombasa where they would return to the respective homes in Dar-es-Salaam and Kampala.
The next day I sailed back to Watamu with some friends and my regular deckhand to begin preparations for the 2020 Dar Tanga Yacht Race.
Circumnavigation View
Alex and Lesley Stone tell of their summer cruise around Aotearoa / New Zealand
Alex and Lesley's catamaran Skyborne, nestled in behind Motuara Island, a pest-free reserve in the outer reaches of Totaranui (Queen Charlotte Sound).
Accessible by water taxi from the end of the Queen Charlotte Track (be sure to check availability and book).
This durned Covid-Thaing. It buggers up the best-laid plans. As it did for the Island Cruising, a New Zealand-based outfit that organizes flotillas to sail to the Pacific Islands every year. But suddenly, the doors to that cruising world were slammed shut.
In casting around for alternative destinations, Viki Moore, the indefatigably cheerful convener of Island Cruising NZ lit upon the obvious solution. In the summer of 2021-22, why not explore Te Wai Pounamu, the Waters of Greenstone, the South Island of New Zealand? Sixteen yachts and their crews took up the idea, including half a dozen catamarans. So in a real sense, she really was herding cats – cruising yachties being a fairly free-spirited lot at the best of time. We were among them, on our Schionning-design 12m cruising catamaran, Skyborne. There were other humans stories in the mix. Like, what to do if your partner is determined to do a full figure-of-eight circumnavigation of New Zealand on your yacht Champagne? But what if you’re none too keen on overnight coastal passages in our oft-times stern seas? Your little three-legged dog neither.
Why, you and Ziggy the dog bundle into a campervan and follow Champagne – an otherwise fine and seaworthy Cavalier 45 monohull – all around the country. To meet up, and catch up on nautical yarns in the safety of marina berths at ports of call. Best of both worlds! This is exactly how Lisa Bennett approached the adventure provided by the Island Cruising Club. All this, despite the Covid thing. Along with the other yachts and their crews, and Lisa and Martin on (and sort-of off) Champagne. For us, it was on the water, all the way. Well, mostly – read on.
Mt Taranaki before dawn, Kaitaki and Puakai Ranges are visible to the left and are accessible via tracks from Oakura and Okato, respectively.
A track to the summmit leaves from North Egmont. The DoC website shows many others with varying levels of fitness leaving from other towns.
We were to muster at Opua in the Bay of Island a day or so after Christmas, and await the call of Bruce Buckley – incidentally, based in Perth, WA (!) – the professional weather forecaster/router Vicki Had engaged for the safety of the fleet. In the nature of an enterprise like this, boats all had different itinerary intentions and time constraints, also different places to join or depart the group. Still, the majority met at Opua, while Viki rushed around in a rental car (she is usually based in Christchurch), helping with final provisioning and sourcing must-have items. Like the pillows for crew members we were short of on our boat, or the extra jerry cans of fuel we needed.
You may recall the weather this past summer was all over the place. And this is where our first challenge set in. There simply wasn’t a decent weather window to allow us yachts to sail up around North Cape and Cape Reinga, and then down to Abel Tasman National Park our planned first landfall. Unless, said Bruce, we were prepared to endure two, maybe three days of strong winds on the nose after rounding Reinga. Well actually, after going the necessary extra 20 nautical miles out to clear the notorious Pandora Banks (breaking seas in all conditions). This was when the theme for the whole trip was set. Visit lovely, little-known places, while waiting for just the right moment to make best use of the available weather windows – whenever they might appear. And this worked out just fine.
So to start with we pulled in at Whangaroa Harbour for an overnight anchorage. It’s perhaps the most beautiful of all of New Zealand’s harbours – certainly the safest anchorages within it. It’s where a pivotal incident in New Zealand’s early history happened – the burning of the Boyd, a British ship of the line. Which showed the English missionaries and colonists eyeing the place at the time, that Māori were not to be trifled with. In fact, the missionary enterprise was postponed for years after the Boyd was destroyed.
I also write a boating adventures series called ‘Up the Creek’. Martin – a brewer by trade (more on that later) – insisted we head up a tiny creek off the upper harbour to find the Gumdiggers’ pub. But we couldn’t find it (the creek) in the maze of mangroves – incidentally after rounding a wee headland named Cape Horn in our rubber dinghy. It will have to wait for another day.
Kayakers rafting up to take advantage of the wind on their way back into Rakauroa (Torrent Bay),
a popular drop-off or pick-up place for walkers doing part of the Abel Tasman Coastal Track.
Then a day sail to Mangonui, a charming far-north harbour town. As we entered the channel, a pod of orca were just leaving. The story of how Lesley and Darleen, doing last minute shopping in the waterside Four Square there, saw me and the blokes drifting past, anchor dragging with one man up the mast at the time, is too long to recount here. Suffice to say all ended well, much to the amusement of the harbourmaster, a cuzzie of Darleen’s, who calls himself Father Christmas.
Bruce, our weatherman had told us, “If you want to go down the west coast, you’ll simply have to face either three or two days of strong southerlies, Then the wind should ease in your favour.” Some boats opted to stay put in Northland, others took the route south along the east coast. Martin, true to form – and confirming Lisa’s knowledge of him – took off immediately with other staunch blokes as crew, three days of beating be dammed. We followed a day later. And yes, the wind did ease, exactly when Bruce, and the amazingly precise New Zealand-developed forecasting and routing system PredictWind predicted it.
In fact, one enduring take-away from the trip was the plethora of navigational information we now have access to. Vicki could track the entire flotilla, and each of us the others, by means of the PredictWind router app with its course-tracking option. On our boat we also had access to Open Source nautical charts, NZ Marine Charts online (thought they have some holes – see later) and the great navigational app Navionics. Plus hand-held GPS devices. And as a final back-up, rolls and rolls of good ol’-fashioned paper charts. There’s always something satisfying about putting it all down with pencil on paper, aye.
Onetahuti Beach, where a large wetland is protected by a boardwalk and bridge across streams fed from forest,
and where a marine life is protected by a marine reserve that includes Tonga Island.
Another theme for the trip emerged. It was a seabird and wildlife safari of amazing sights. On every day at sea, we encountered dolphins more than once. Some very rare Maui’s dolphins off the Taranaki coast. And a seal, just lazing on the surface 60 NM offshore. Also blue whales (on this first leg), orca, and 1,001 albatrosses. And, this far north, many flying fish.
Arriving in Abel Tasman National Park, the other enduring memories of the trip were set in place. We learned, again, just how beautiful this country is – only from the privileged perspective of the view from the sea. We learned too, how New Zealand in the regions is re-discovering itself (and for the better, we reckon) in the post-Covid world. For a start, Abel Tasman Park at the height of summer was busy as. We had never seen New Zealand waterways so much traversed – by kayaks, small outboard boats, trailer-sailers, cruising yachts and launches, water taxis, you name it. Kiwis enjoying their natural heritage.
A young kayak tours guide we spoke to, summed it all up. All smiles, she gestured around her and said. “This is my day job. These people all become my friends. Cool ey?” Too right. And besides, it doesn’t take much diverting to appreciate the Abel Tasman area in a less-than-frenetic way. The marine reserve at Tonga Island for example, with its safe anchorage, and wetland walkway. Where we encountered a weka, the tough flightless bird, hard case as always, with her adorably fluffy wee chicks, quite the opposite. Or the great coffee shop at the Awaroa Lodge, near the extra-ordinary white-sands of Awaroa Inlet (which dries out completely at low tide), just a short walk away. We encountered many good folk just takin their time, chillin’ at the track huts in the Abel Tasman Park. Often whole families. All good.
Whakatahuri Boatyard and ship wreckers, in the outer Pelorus Sound ... accessible via the Havelock mailboat, once a week.
My Happiness leading us towards French Pass. Timing has to be perfect to minimise the potential for turbulence as the water drops from a few metres deep through a narrow gap into a 70m deep basin. The pass is viewable from a lookout above the hamlet of Anaru (French Pass), which is also a way for accessing D'Urville Island by water taxi.
For spectacular views time you land-based trip to see what boaties avoid – a full flood tidal stream from west to east.
The real world of deadlines imposed on our Tasman idyll. Crew members to drop off at Motueka Marina (which also dries out at low tide), for flights back to Auckland. Later, lunch at the delightful, oak-dappled Toad Hall brewery and café. An interview at Coppins – a family company, been there in the main street for 100 years – that makes the best sea anchors in the world. (Our story angle for overseas yachting magazines: your product saved our lives. I wrote about this previously in this fine magazine).
Then whanau (family) to fetch in Nelson. And a fun Up the Creek adventure, following the Maitai Creek through the middle of Nelson city, to a monument on a hill that marks the ‘Centre of New Zealand.’ Sort of.
Starting at Ruby’s shiny silver coffee cart, now a local institution down by the marina, and a spectacular anti-Covid success story. Locals frequent Ruby’s cart: bean bags on the lawn, free plums, top pastries, the cinnamon brioches a standout. On our way up the creek on our kayaks, we marvel at the great investment by Nelson in the number of terrific sculptures along the river walkway.
Including a magnificent Phil Price piece, one of those fluid, organic, endlessly moving-in-the-wind forms of superlative engineering and seductive aesthetics. Just beyond, again, is a lovely female form, a serene Papatuanuku (earth mother goddess) figure cradling a takahē in her lap, and artfully placed, half-hidden (I imagine at the sculptor’s request) in a bed of flax bushes. Plenty more art along the way.
In Akaroa Harbour, Fox II enjoying taking Kiwi visitors out to see New Zealand's special Hector's dolphins.
Then, just as we are halted by a small rapid in the Maitai, there’s the walk up to the Centre of New Zealand. Just beyond to a quiet cricket oval. With a wonky boundary that loops around huge old trees on the edges. I reckon the batsmen must know to aim for them to achieve a cut-price four runs. And another sign proclaiming that this was where the very first rugby game in New Zealand was played, way back in 1870. College versus Town, 18 men per side. It transpires that the bloke who organized the game, Charles Munro, played for the Town team, and was the referee. No prizes for guessing who won.
It turns out the ‘Centre of New Zealand’ is simply the datum point for the very first colonial settler lands survey – and co-incidentally somewhere in the middle of the country. The more analytical members of our family – four PhDs in science (I’m seriously outgunned) – are bemused. No matter. The views are splendid, out across the Boulder Bank and Tasman Bay beyond it.
The dramatic Cape Turnagain, on the Wairarapa Coast, east of Herbertville. This is where Captain Cook doubled back,
after confirming by his circumnavigatioon that the North Island was indeed, an island.
Navigational notes: Nelson is remarkable for its huge tides. On the day we went up the creek, there was a king tide of 4.7m (!), well above the normal high of 4m. And a stiff local sea breeze that defies all weather predictions from distant systems. One day there, six weather models said there’d be a light southerly of 5 knots. But in Tasman Bay, a sea breeze developed of around 20 knots. Strong enough for our mainsail head fitting to tear out. But quickly repaired by Southern Sails in Nelson.
Onwards! We head towards the notorious French Pass. It’s one of New Zealand’s most challenging bits of water, between D’Urville Island and a finger of land in the Marlborough Sounds, where the tide can run at up to nine knots (!) in a kind of horizontal waterfall across a line of rocks. A long-time shipmate of mine, Pete Thomas had always wanted to see the pass, so he and his wife Marjo got there a few days before us in their campervan, to get the famous picture of the current from the top of the hill. The road to this extra-ordinary vantage point leaves State Highway 6 at Rai Valley, between Nelson and Havelock.
As always, Martin on Champagne is ahead of us, though he times the tide imperfectly, and gets swirled around a bit on his way through. We make a more demure passage, bang on the turn of the tides, in the company of another Island Cruising Club yacht, the aptly-named Knysna 50 catamaran My Happiness.
That done, we anchor for the night at Catherine Cove. And enter the superlative aroma of Cathy’s kitchen at the Wilderness Lodge there, just as she’s grilling huge trays of crayfish for visitors, in her ‘cook your catch’ deal. She tells us they took a real hit at their remote lodge during the Covid years, but have recovered with a bang. As, “we’re the closest thing to an overseas destination.” She’s right – D’Urville Island is indeed a world apart, and a stay at her lodge, or exploring via the local mini-van tours outfit is a very worthwhile adventure.
There’s a fascinating book displayed on her counter. Angelina, by Kiwi author Gerald Hindmarsh is the epic tale of his grandmother, who came all the way from the Italian island of Stromboli to marry her love (well, an arranged marriage really, but he became so), who was working on a family farm on D’Urville. “The film rights have been sold for the book,” says Cathy with gleam in her eye, thinking naturally of accommodating a film crew for the duration of the shoot. But that’s all in the future. Perhaps.
Again, we find the value of this kind of slowed-down travel: finding the extra-ordinary stories of New Zealanders and their sense of place, in the most unlikely of places.
Speaking of which, later in the Marlborough Sounds we pull in at Whakatahuri. The most remote boat builders – and boat-wreckers – yard in New Zealand, situated on a narrow spit of land in the remote outer Pelorus Sound. No road access. Though you can visit when the mail-run boat from Havelock brings them their groceries once a week. For anyone with an interest in old boats, shipwrecks, unique boat restoration projects – or just as a photographer’s heaven, this is one off-the-beaten track adventure to recommend. And, true story! – the bloke who lives there is named Davey Jones.
We find ourselves detained in the little town of Havelock, for all the right reasons. There’s so much to explore here. Like the lovely wee local museum. Or Graham Smith’s extra-ordinary shrine to that oddity of engineering, the British Seagull outboard motor. He has more than 150 of them (!) in his workshop, just off the main street.
I asked his son Vinnie, “How does it feel to be part of an eccentric outfit?’”
“Mate,” he replied, “it’s way worse than that.”
Motueka Marina looks like a lovely stopover, but we wondered why the manager there put a time limit on our stay at the visitor berth.
Here's why: Motueka Marina dies out completely at low tide.
Still, the Te Hoiere Seagull Fleet (there are others of their ilk in Havelock) organize races in the Pelorus River delta every two months. The rules: any boat will do – the weirder, the better – as long as it’s propelled by a Seagull outboard. The races are preceded by a skite-yer-boat procession down the main street. It appears it’s de rigeur for each boat to have a colourful home-made flag as well. Plus clever contraptions for steering and replacing fuel tanks without slowing down.
The racers of the Te Hoiere Seagull Fleet each have the ambition to be busted by the port captain for breaking the 8 knot speed limit in the harbour. Hasn’t happened yet. When Lesley and I venture Up the Creek – the remarkable, crystal-clear Pelorus River – in our ordinary wee rubber dinghy pushed by a purringly-quiet Honda four-stroke outboard, we get the feeling we’re something of a disappointment.
Or the amazing, hidden art gallery upstairs in the corridors and rooms of the Havelock Pub. Displaying almost the entire oeuvre of the unknown, under-appreciated folk artist Oriwa Haddon.
The elusive weather windows (remember them) kept us detained in the Marlborough Sounds for weeks. As hostage situations go, just fine by us. And time to explore further. Like finding the best second-hand bookshop in the main street of Picton. Open only when the owner is not walking his new puppy. Or the wonderful bird sanctuary on Motuara Island, accessible by water taxis or your own runabout from Picton. The younger folk in our family crew found many excuses to visit Helen Rutledge and Ben Everts on Panthera, a well-appointed Lagoon 44 cat in the flotilla, which had its own on-board coffee machine.
Bird-watching in the Sounds is a treat. Among New Zealand’s rare birds, no-one ever seems to talk about the kawau king shag. Only 130 breeding pairs left. Almost all in Queen Charlotte Sound. Well-worth photographing – and easy too, as they visit your boat looking for handouts.
Our next overnight anchorage, after exiting the also-notorious Tory Channel (tide of up to seven knots, plus Inter-Islander ferries to contend with) is at Port Underwood. Which, from the land is well worth exploring, following the great self-guided Port Underwood Heritage Tour on an app. Extra-ordinary stories – like that of Jackie Guard, who challenged the 19th Century Māori war lord Te Rauparaha to step over a line in the sand and fight. Who, most unusually for him, declined. Or the African American, an ex-slave and whaler, who set up a homestead there with his wife, a Chatham Island Moriori, also an ex-slave.
https://storymaps.arcgis.com/stories/f5e57832b86649c4b90e08b627b8c96a
Then a difficult overnight passage to Lyttleton. Where we had rising wind and seas, cold, no stars. Having to slow the boat down from our 14 knots, by constantly reducing sail, to make Lyttleton Port in daylight. Lesley, our cautious navigator (the best kind) not keen on entering a strange port in the dark. During which, Lesley and my daughter Zoë asked, “Are we really enjoying this?” Helen called us on VHF from Panthera, worried about our apparent loss of speed which showed up on their radar and AIS.
Akaroa's old lighthouse, that used to be out on the harbour's heads, but now moved to town to be a landmark visitor attraction.
But it was all made up by the 50 common dolphins who welcomed us at dawn in the harbour mouth, with a full-on kapa haka (song and dance) display. I’d swear they’re paid by the town council for their services. And the many Hector’s dolphins later seen there too. Viki was on her home-town marina dock to snap a picture of us arriving in our foul-language gear. Smiles at last.
Of course Lisa had already got there by campervan, and was onboard Champagne in the fine new marina in Lyttleton. She and Martin invited all fellow Island Cruisers to their boutique brewery, restaurant and community cinema, The Laboratory in Lincoln. Another post-earthquake and post Covid business success story. And a must-visit for any South Island traveller.
By the way, the little port town of Lyttleton is a cornucopia of interesting cafes and sculptures. Like the bronze husky outside the library, a tribute to those loaded aboard ships heading to the Antarctic last century. And which has shiny ears from everyone fondling them!
A day sail around to Akaroa, accompanied all the way by many different groups of the charming wee Hector’s dolphins. And another insight into New Zealand’s future tourism prospects. We notice bold over-printing on the nautical charts at the entrance to Akaroa’s deeply-indented harbour: NO VESSELS OVER 40m
Turns out the Akaroa locals – all 600 of them – had second thoughts about the “Disneyland madness” of the pre-Covid thing of up to four cruise ships a day, parked in their lovely harbour. And the hordes of blue-rinses coming ashore. No more! Though Lyttleton, an hour and a half away by road, is now building a new dedicated cruise ships dock. So maybe the visitors will still come by mini van.
But we found Akaroa doing just fine. The four dolphins tours outfits, including one on the100-year-old sailing ketch Fox II, taking out visitors every day. Kiwi visitors re-discovering our own country, just like us.
We resort to a borrowed car, to get over the hill to the remarkable and remote Okains Bay Museum. Which has an extraordinary collection of waka (Māori dugout canoes), including a full size, 150-year-old waka taua (war canoe, this one later modified for coastal trade). And a very significant collection of old boats of European heritage – rowing shells built from tōtara, the first Sumner lifeboat, whalers, an early Avon River punt, a through-the-surf rowing lighter from Wellington of a Greek design. Another must-visit place for anyone interested in old boats. Just ask to be shown the European boats behind the scenes, for most of them are currently undergoing conservation work.
The good folk at the Akaroa Yacht club were most hospitable. They bemoaned the fact that so many modern cruising boats are so self-contained, they hardly need the facilities of their yacht club. Like their fine pub, with local yarns aplenty, including about a discontinued coastal race from Wellington, which had the most impressive solid silver trophy, now encased and unemployed behind the bar.
This was the last time the boats of the Island Cruising Club South Island rally (almost) got together. With an epic seafood meal aboard My Happiness, and a pirate party at the Har Bar overlooking the bay.
The travel-lift at Nelson Marina. Most of the South island haul-out facilities are not wide enough for catamarans.
We had to bail from there, as work commitments – and the uncooperative weather windows – meant we and My Happiness had to head back north, up the east coast along the dramatic Wairarapa coast. All the while marking places to visit from the land again sometime soon. Like the light show at the Castlepoint lighthouse. Or the remote fishing communities where they launch boats through the monster surf.
We notice large parts of the Wairarapa coastline remain uncharted. A legacy of the neo-liberal policies of a previous New Zealand government, that decreed it wasn’t the navy’s role to finish that job. But private enterprise never did. We wonder if, with an overlay of modern chart-plotter and depth-sounder records, and the input of the local fishermen (who surely, must know where the rocks are), that the coast here can finally be properly charted. A kind of nautical citizen science project. Just a thought…
We are further held up in Napier’s marina, when a weather bomb washes masses of ‘forestry slash’ down the rivers and out to sea. We wait till the sea clears – and then only resolve to sail on in daylight hours. Later, we find plenty of logs choking up the Gisborne harbour, a daysail away.
No worries. More time to meet great sailing characters. Like the staunch sailors of the Napier Sailability (disabled sailing) unit, who crossed Cook Strait in a storm in their Australian-designed Liberty-class dinghies. Or the local historian, who shows me great pictures of Napier Sailing Club’s fleet (including the world’s first planing yachts) sailing, before the 1931 earthquake, where Napier Airport’s main runway is now. That earthquake lifted the land by 2m, erasing most of the extensive lagoon that was there.
While Martin, Champagne, Panthera and the other yachts continued with the full figure of eight, via Rakiura Stewart Island and Fiordland, and back to Nelson. Followed by Lisa and the dog in the campervan. And collecting more terrific stories for post-Covid exploring New Zealand along the way. I’m hanging out for the slide show, next time we see them. Way to go!
Bucket List: Lamu
by William Kosar
The author and crew on a sunset sail with friends with Shela in the background. - Image Saeed Balala
Wherever we want to go, we go. That’s what a ship is, you know. It’s not just a keel and a hull and a deck and sails,
that’s what a ship needs but what a ship is ... what the CASSANDRAVILLE really is ... is freedom.
To me, there is almost as much joy in planning a cruise, as actually undertaking it. Our recent trip to Lamu in northern Kenya, was almost two years in the planning. Having helped two friends sail their large catamarans (‘Condo-marans?’) from Watamu, Kenya to Lamu, in the north of Kenya (just south of Somalia) in November 2020 and again in October 2021, I knew that I wanted to sail my own Elf 26 catamaran up to Lamu.
My wife asked, “Why? You have already sailed their twice before.” “I know, but it wasn’t in my own boat. This is my own personal Everest (#smallboatbigadventure)!
Actually, the planning for this trip started probably in September 2020 before my first sail up to Lamu with friend Chris in his Leopard 39 catamaran. We had planned to cruise in company (each on our own yacht), but I couldn’t get anyone to crew for me. I decided it would be best to go with Chris and get the experience and local knowledge. It was a fabulous trip although we had only spent a few hours in Lamu itself having divided our time between Manda Bay Resort and Mike’s Camp Kiwayu having sailed past the new LAPSSET port under construction by the Chinese.
The Fearless crew: Emmanuel (left) and 'Captain' Othman, anchored in front of the sand dunes of Shela.
Upon our return, I immediately started planning my own adventure. As noted earlier, I find that planning a cruise is almost as much fun as actually sailing it. However, we had to make our annual ‘pilgrimage’ to Tanga, Tanzania as our yacht is Canadian registered and must leave Kenya annually. This was our third time down to Tanga. On the two previous occasions we had cleared in at Tanga and then proceeded to sail down to Dar-es-Salaam, the cosmopolitan capital of Tanzania. We sailed in the Dar Tanga Race, the oldest, largest and longest yacht race in East Africa keeping Zanzibar to port (to the left) in both directions. The race starts in ‘Dar’ and ends in Tanga. A few days later we race back to Dar. In our second attempt, we came second in the cruising class.
Again, the planning started for the Lamu trip and we were anxiously watching the weather with a plan to go in late March 2021 just before the Kusi started blowing again. We were fully provisioned and ready to go, and then … the Kusi with all its vengeance started blowing again.
Sunset sailing with the traditional dhows. Manda Island is in the background. - Image Saeed Balala
Through sailing circles, I became acquainted with Craig, an American circumnavigating the globe in his Mumby 48 aluminium catamaran. I was initially supposed to help him sail from the Seychelles to Kilifi Kenya but had to go on assignment to Juba, South Sudan. After several weeks in Kenya, he approached me and asked if I would help him sail up to Lamu. I would then leave him there and fly home. Again, this presented another opportunity to get to know the conditions and the way to Lamu. This time, I brought along my deckhand Emmanuel so he too could get the experience and knowledge of sailing up to Lamu.
We then started ‘practicing’ for our sail up to Lamu in CassandravillE. Shortly after our return in November from Tanga, I started to plan for a cruise up to Ras Ngomeni which seemed to be a suitable half way point on the way to Lamu having stopped there for a few hours with Craig on the way up. So just before Christmas, Emmanuel along with my friends Jos and his wife Billi sailed up and anchored overnight before sailing back to Watamu the following day.
Again, planning was started for another chance to sail CassandravillE up to Lamu for late January in time for my 65th birthday. Unfortunately, I had an adverse reaction to my Covid booster jab and was out of commission for almost a month; but still the dreaming and planning continued.
I had several friends express interest in joining us on the sail but when the time came to actually sail, they had to back out owing to work commitments. I had also by this time found a Bajuni4 Dhow Captain named Othman who had apparently made the trip hundreds of times over his 60+ years.
After consulting with Captain Othman for the right weather window, we finally departed at 0605 on the morning of Saturday, March 12 for a wonderful motor sail up to Ras Ngomeni at the southern tip of Ungwana Bay in northern Kenya.
The author's Elf 26 catamaran at anchor in front of Peponi Hotel.
However, just after we passed the Ras, the weather started getting rough and the wind was blowing fiercer than I could ever recall in my little catamaran (about quarter the size in volume of the other two cats that I had sailed in. We were battling strong winds and large seas and barely making over 1kt per hour of headway.
The Captain said that there was no reef and that we could seek refuge along the eastern shore. We started the long slog and finally reached the point where the coast started shifting the north east. It was after sunset by that time and I could see a dip in the horizon as if a valley. The Captain said that it was an island that he had sought shelter behind the island many years ago but it may have silted in and be inaccessible. We decided to check it out but as we motored towards there, we could hear the sound of surf and then actually saw the surf in the moonlight; not a good choice.
We then decided to make our way to Kipini where I knew there to be a harbour having done a land-based recce of it a few weeks before while planning the voyage. Again, when we got there about 1am on Sunday, it didn’t look safe so we proceeded along the coast finally anchoring at Ziwayu at about 2.30am (I had taken a nap just before then and was awakened just before we dropped the hook.)
After four hours of sleep at anchor outside of Ziwayu, we were up again at 0630 and after a coffee and a quick breakfast; we were underway with beautiful sailing conditions.
The many donkeys of Lamu Island and the author enjoying a quiet moment just after checking in with the Coast Guard and Customs at Manda Bay Airport. - Image Saeed Balala
Shortly after upping the anchor, we caught a HUGE barracuda.
We sailed past Tenewe and Kinyika islands before sailing around Lamu Island, past Kipungani, Matadoni and Mokowe and on to Manda Airport to check in with Kenya Customs and the Coast Guard at the airport (it was a Sunday so the KRA Offices were closed except at the airport).
As we approached Lamu from the backside, I got a warm, fuzzy feeling. In fact, as I commented to one of my travel companions on the yacht, the same feeling I got when I first saw Shimla, the Indian Hill Station almost 30 years ago as we rounded a mountain in the Himalayas: Shangri-La!
My friend Nicholas and his family came up to collect me from the airport in his launch and we then proceeded to a lovely lunch at the Majlis Resort on Manda Island, just across the channel from Lamu Island.
While I was catching up with Nicholas, the crew sailed the yacht over to Shela and anchored in front of the world famous Peponi Hotel.
After a sundowner of Seychelles rum (which had just been sailed over by some friends) I made my way over to Peponi Hotel for supper (try the Poke Bowl, it’s delicious!) with friend Saeed to plan our first day of activities in Lamu.
Lamu Old Town is the oldest and best-preserved Swahili settlement in East Africa, retaining its traditional functions. Built in coral stone and mangrove timber, Lamu is characterized by narrow streets and magnificent stone buildings with impressive carved doors. The architecture and urban structure of Lamu graphically demonstrate the cultural influences that have come together over 700 hundred years from Europe, Arabia, and India, utilizing traditional Swahili techniques that produced a distinct culture. The buildings on the seafront with their arcades and open verandas provide a unified visual impression of the town when approaching it from the sea.
Unlike other Swahili settlements which have been abandoned along the East African coast, Lamu has continuously been inhabited for over 700 years.
Sunset sailing with the dhows. - Image Saeed Balala
Monday, March 14 was our first full day in Lamu. This morning we went to the floating petrol station to refuel and sailed past the @floatingbarlamu on the way to our anchorage in just by Peponi Hotel in Shela
This had been one of my so-called Bucket List of items to do having filled up there while in one of the many water taxis last October. Although we could have easily taken our Jerry Cans in a water taxi, I wanted to do it with the actual yacht.
My other bucket list items were anchoring in front of the Peponi Hotel in Shela so that my family and friends could see where we were at all times on the webcam (my wife actually rang me when we went to the floating petrol station as she had seen that the yacht was no longer there).
My other two items that I had hoped to achieve was to tie up at the Floating Bar Lamu and enjoy a dinner (they had previously given us permission when I spoke with them while planning the cruise many months ago) and sailing up the Manda Channel to Manda Bay Resort and on to Pate Island. We cancelled the trip up to Pate owing to the fuel shortage in Lamu (which presaged a nationwide fuel shortage in Kenya about a month later which continues at the time of this writing).
My final bucket list item was to sail the route of the dhows at sunset and with the assistance of friend Saeed and Captain Hassan who was the skipper of Nicholas’ launch, we followed the procession of dhows and witnessed a magnificent sunset over Shela. Nicholas later invited our new friends and me to dinner at his palatial compound on top of the hill in Lamu Town through the narrow streets of Lamu.
On Tuesday, we had planned to sail up to Manda Bay, but due to the fuel shortage and the Captain (whom we found him on the beach at dawn), I decided just to have a quiet day at anchor.
The author at the helm leaving Peponi Hotel for a sunset sail through the Lamu Archipelago. - Image Saeed Balala
Emmanuel paddled me in our SUP to shore late in the morning where I stopped by Peponi Hotel for a juice and a snack before proceeding to wander among the many neat and narrow lanes of Shela Village. Shela, which is also on Lamu Island, is a village about 2nm from Lamu Town, inhabited by the likes of European royalty. While Lamu has a certain gritty charm with narrow winding lanes and donkeys among the main mode of transport, Shela is more antiseptic; basically, a Disney version of Lamu, although equally beautiful in my eyes.
Late in the afternoon, I took the water taxi back to Lamu Town where I attended a Rotary Club of Lamu meeting at Mwana Arafa Restaurant Garden on the ancient seafront.
On Wednesday, we were up by 5am and getting the yacht ready to sail home. My friend Saeed was waiting on the beach for us long before dawn. Emmanuel paddled to shore to collect Saeed who came to wish us ‘safari njema’ (journey mercies). At 0555 we pointed the yacht in the direction of Watamu and started the long sail back.
After passing Kipini and later Tenewe, we quickly caught a kingfish and later a 10kg wahoo.
As the wind built up astern of us, we were racing along passing an array of vessels on the opposite course for Lamu including a small container ship, Sport Fishing vessel Sirai Sea and a fishing dhow who approached us asking for cigarettes.
We had cleared Ras Ngomeni before sunset as the winds continued to build. We had long since turned off the auxiliary outboard motor and were reefing both the main and jib sails until we were under jib alone as we passed Malindi (and a Chinese fishing trawler) around 9.30pm.
We finally reached Ocean Sports Resort in Watamu where we normally moor in the Kaskazi season just after 11.30pm, elated to be home and at the success of our journey.
The Inreach Explorer track from Lamu back hom to Watamu, Kenya.
Lamu is so magical that we want to do it again; I am already planning my next cruise up to Lamu for late September. This time however, instead of sailing direct from Ras Ngomeni across to Lamu, we want to explore the western shore of Ungwana Bay.
Other cruising plans include Kismayu in Somalia (we want to be the first yacht to WILLINGLY sail into Somalia since 1991!) and then north, 35 or so nautical miles just to cross the Equator and become a proper “shellback.”
Where else should we consider sailing to?
For further information:
Email: This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.
Instagram: @sailingcassandraville
WhatsApp +254 715 457 412
Watch our YouTube video about the cruise here:
https://youtu.be/Tm07yK6WXiU
Cruising Tasmania
a powercat in its element
Alcheringa at Deal Island.
Alcheringa slid gently off the trailer on August 16, 2007.
Our 14m Brady Powercat, launched after two years, nine months, was a reality. Now after shakedown adn fine tuning around Wilson Promontory, on March 1 we were off on our first big cruise. Tasmania beckoned and we were coming.
Owners Mark and Martia Chapman and Peter Western along with fellow builders Ian Snell and Clive Lynn, plus old salt raconteur and retired professional fisherman, Alan Cripps set out to circumnavigate Tasmania.
East Pyramids just south of Pt Davey.
The day was clear, the river a millpond, as we motored through Corner Inlet, Deal Island our destination on day one. As we went, a small swell and 1l.5m chop, typical Bass Strait, tested sea legs, but 66nm and five hours later saw us in East Cove.
Deal Island is one of the more picturesque places of Bass Strait and a popular stop off point for many boaties.
Next morning a fresh Easterly made the walk to the now decommissioned lighthouse a more attractive proposition than Bass Strait. The island and lighthouse have volunteer caretakers who live in the keeper’s house for three months looking after the small museum, monitoring radio and generally welcoming visitors with tea and scones. The lighthouse , the highest in Australia at 1100ft, so high it was sometimes lost in the clouds, provides spectacular views of the Kent Group, and as far as Wilson’s Promontory and Flinders Island.
That evening we had a BBQ at the jetty. Several groups, both professional fishers and cruisers enjoyed a convivial glass together swapping tall tales and true.
Day 3 – 0600hrs
A 10kt northeasterly. Perfect! So off to Flinders Island. After three hours and 47nm to Marshall Bay, we crossed Fotheringate Bay, below Strzelecki Peak (of Three Peaks Race fame) then our resident old salt guided us through the dogleg channel between Little Dog and Great Dog Islands and into Lady Barron.
We spent the day catching up on several of Alan’s friends, checking the beverage quality at the local and trying to fix a recalcitrant genset which proved eventually in Hobart to be just a faulty switch. That evening we anchored in the delightful Spike Bay on Clarke Island at the southern end of the Furneaux Group and enjoyed fresh pike for tea.
Denison canal and bridge.
Day 6
Calm. Destination St Helens. The Coast Guard guys there are great. Radio ahead and they will come out to guide you through the somewhat treacherous entrance. Unfortunately the bar was too rough so we decided to continue.
Off Cape Lodi the southerly change hit with the steep chop rapidly rising to 2.5m. No boat likes that head on, let alone the occupants, so the last 18nm took two hours.
We had peace and tranquillity with half a dozen other boats also there for the evening. Wineglass Bay from the lookout is fantastic but no crew member took up the challenge this time.
Day Seven
Off around Freycinet, through Schouten Passage and into Triabunna, a picturesque old fishing harbour, for lunch. Alan wanted to check out his last shark boat, Kamerooka, and sure enough there she was. She brought back old memories of hard days and rough nights in Bass Strait. Alan reckons he’s a fair weather sailor now. We continued over to Shoal Bay on Maria Island for the evening picking up a nice haul of flathead on the way.
Next morning we headed for Blackmans Bay and the Denison canal. In Blackmans Bay we radioed the swing bridge operator to obtain passage. You feel quite important seeing the lineup of people, cameras at the ready, waiting for the boat to transit past the canal bridge.
Crossing Norfolk Bay we motored through a huge flock of Shearwaters. There were hundreds of thousands of these tough little birds who migrate to and from Siberia each year. Mutton birds have a long connection with both indigenous people and fishermen as a source of food and oil.
Reading Patsy Adam Smith’s book, “There was a ship”, during the voyage, I got a feel for the toughness and remarkable skills of the intrepid seamen who supplied island communities and particularly the mutton birders on remote islands. We were living in luxury I decided.
Then south of Hobart, we travelled through Frederick Henry Bay, past the Iron Pot and over into the D’Entrecasteaux Channel. A quick visit into Kettering and over to Duck Cove on North Bruny Island for the night. Duck Cove is one of those rare anchorages where weather doesn’t matter – a great little spot that holds up to 10 boats.
Morning reflections on the Huon at Franklin.
Day 9 was spent cruising down the D’Entrecasteaux and up the Huon River to visit the Wooden Boat School at Franklin. The school runs courses teaching the time honoured skills of wooden boat building, generally pretty little sailing dinghies but also larger boats and renovations.
We also wanted to sample the famous Huon Valley apples so who better to ask than the local barman? “See me in the morning”. So we did. “There’s the trees, help yourselves, he said.“What do we owe you?” “Enjoy the apples”, he replied. The hospitality was great and so were the apples.
Next morning – reflections and morning light – great for photography , then back to Hobart visiting Singapore, my old converted cray boat, in Deep Cove on the way.
Making our way up the Derwent we called Hobart Port Control on Channel 12 to get through that marvellous old balanced cantilever bridge into Constitution Dock, surely one of the best value mid-city moorings around. Surrounded by historic buildings with Salamanca Market five minutes walk away, Hobart has that provincial city feel and is full of interesting old buildings. We visited the maritime museum which has excellent display – real history buff’s stop-off.
Constitution Dock.
Day 13
All systems go and refuelled, we set off south. Entering Recherche Bay we were surrounded by a convention of porpoises. There seemed to be hundreds of them all over the bay frolicking in the evening light.
As we pulled in to anchor the port engine stopped, and thank heavens for high quality fuel filters. How could you suddenly get 8L of fresh water in one fuel tank? Refuelling? Pretty annoying , but using the tank drain cocks and replacing the filters fixed the problem – better there than in the Southern Ocean!
0630 hrs – a 5kt NE breeeze boded well. Heading for Port Davey we rounded South East Cape, passed Mt Pinder and Precipitous Bluff looming mysteriously above the mists and approached Maatsuyker Island, a place that always seems to have wind in weather reports but was pretty calm for us. By 1000 hrs we had closed South West Cape and turned North towards Port Davey.
Passing the East Pyramids, an aptly named and formidable group of islands, Big Caroline with its Ace of Spades profile came into view as we set course towards Breaksea Is. and the Bathurst Narrows entrance. At 1130 we were anchored in Schooner Cove just inside the Narrows. An afternoon of exploring islands and climbing nearby hills followed.
Over night all hell broke loose as a strong 50-60kt SW front arrived. We survived a midnight shift after finding that even our trusty SARCA anchor doesn’t hold so well with a piece of old discarded carpet on its point.
In the morning we went through the Bathurst Narrows, still with the gale blowing, and spent the day relaxing in Kings Point Cove. Exploring the nooks and crannies of Port Davey and the Harbour occupied us for the next three days.
Up the Davey River and Breaksea Pt, Pt Davey.
We visited Payne Bay to venture six miles up the Davey River in the dinghies, through spectacular gorges up to the first rapids. Pristine and peaceful, the river sees few visitors beyond here. Later we explored the Old River inside the Harbour similarly.
The challenge of the Harbour is Mount Rugby, all 2533 dominant feet of it. Leaving Alan and Clive to care for Alcheringa, four of us tackled the walk. The guide says if moderately fit, it will take five hours up and back. So even in our 60’s Ian and I must be moderately fit; Mark and Marita being younger could do it easily of course.The views are fantastic, a panorama down the Narrows, over to Maatsuyker Island, and even Federation Peak. You could sit and gaze for hours.
Then what should appear in the Narrows but Windward Bound. The square rigger from Hobart, built by Captain Sarah and her volunteers, Windward Bound and its Trust aim to give direction to less fortunate young people as well as taking paid crew. Later in the day we came alongside to say “Hi” and talk about the weather.
Day 17
Last day in Bathurst – the day Mark and Marita must leave to return to their business. We ventured up to Melaleuca where Deny King for many years mined tin and where the airstrip now accommodates day visitors experiencing the South West wilderness.
With much regret we waved “M and M” goodbye and watched as the Islander, two engines labouring, disappeared over Mt. Rugby taking them back to the real world. Or maybe we were the one’s in the real world?
We talked again to Captain Sarah who was really helpful, accessing the forecasts via Satphone.The next day looked the best bet to head to Macquarie Harbour.
Alcheringa at Melaleuca.
Day 18
A final check with Cap’n Sarah and at 0950 we were off. There wasn’t much traffic on the West Coast, just a couple of cray boats and nothing you could call shelter, but enough cray pots to keep you alert. We passed Low Rocky Point and Hibbs Pyramid. Well, we hadn’t realised the Ancient Egyptians were over here building on the west coast!
At 1630 we entered Hells Gates and headed for Strahan, tying up at 1730. That was 109nm in 7hrs 40mins – not too bad on the west coast.
The next morning we set out to Sarah Island, the home of the infamous penal settlement from 1822-33. Sarah Island And the nearby Small Island, which housed the eight women convicts sent as nurses and cooks, were brutal and harsh penal environments for “recalcitrants”; but also the settlement provided the biggest southern ship building enterprise of its day. Using the stands of magnificent old huon pine lining the rivers, over 60 boats of various sizes were built, the last providing several convicts with the means to escape to South America.
Heading up the Gordon River we passed the Marble Cliffs, reaching Warner’s Landing by 1900hrs. Warner’s Landing and Sir John’s Falls were the works site for the infamous Gordon below Franklin dam proposal in 1982. The protests were nightly TV fare at the time but now the forest has reclaimed the area. 20nm up the river we had reached as far as big boats are allowed.
Venturing further in the dinghy the next day, we left Alan to chat with the seaplane pilot who flies in tourists to enjoy their ten minute rainforest experience. Before the Gordon/Franklin confluence we negotiated two deep water rapids with a fall of over 1m each.The power in the river at low flow is immense; in floods it must be awesome, as the flood marks on the trees were many metres above us.
Early morning at Sir John’s Falls, mists rising from the tranquil river and the solitude and silence of the forest will be one of our lasting memories. In the mosaic of forest are many young huon pines so maybe in a few hundred years the early damage will be repaired.To visit these wild and remote areas is both a privilege and somehwat humbling.
We left the river and spent the night in Kelly’s Lagoon visiting Pillager, an abandoned town site. Pillager’s 2000 population was supported by making bricks for the mines in the hills and boasted a fancy railway to carry bricks and timber as well as passengers in style. The only things left now are the kilns and an old van carcass. Once again the forest has reclaimed its own. Then it was back to Strahan to refuel ready for the next leg up the west coast.
Rodondo Island, Wilson's Promontory.
Day 23
The wind prediction was 15-20kts NE off the land so we decided it should be okay. Casting off at 0545 we were out through Hells Gates at 0650 with the first light, we again faced a lonely coast and sea dotted with craypots. Travelling four to five miles off it was choppy with a 2m SW swell but Alcheringa was quite happy at 14kts. After Green Point we closed the coast as it became more choppy, and passing the Roaring Forties Windfarm standing like sentinels on the ocast we rounded Trefoil and Bird Island’s to access Hunter Passage.
Soon the chop reached 2m. We checked with Smithton Radio regarding conditions at Stanley. The locals said it was okay so we gave Three Hummock Island a miss and cutting back to 11kts set a course to Stanley Harbour, arriving at 1800 having completed 155NM that day.
The weather closed in, typical Bass Strait stuff, strong winds and choppy seas. So we climbed The Nut, explored Stanley, chatted to the locals and caught up on our reading.
Day 28
Wind prediction was15kts southerly, abating. Good enough, we decided, so it was “homeward bound”. Casting off at 0715, we rounded The Nut, set a course for Rodondo Island just South of Wilsons Prom and set the Styers at 2850 rpm.
What a trip.Wind on the stern quarter we were making up to 20kts down some waves. Alcheringa was revelling in the conditions with around a 2m following sea. Going up past Wilson’s Promontory and into Corner Inlet, the next time we touched the throttles was when we entered the Franklin River channel.
As we drifted slowly past the mangroves in the Franklin River and nestled against our home jetty we reflected on the trip. Our feelings were mixed. It was a bit sad that the companionship and excitement of our cruise were ending, but great to be home. We’d had our adventure together with very little friction despite the odd mechanical challenge; and everyday work in the shed on powercat two would soon resume. We’d shared the cooking and were fortuate that Clive, who is something of an amatuer “cordon bleu”, could give a few culinary tips. Everyone enjoyed fresh bread baked daily in our trusty bread- maker.We brought home enough food for another week.
But best of all we brought home wonderful memories of Tasmania’s beautiful coastline and bays, her pristine rivers, and great forests. And lots of photos, naturally.
VITAL STATISTICS:
• 28 days • 1160 nautical miles • 3060 litres of diesel
Our Glorious Great Barrier Reef
by Rosemary Jilderts
There are many things in life that we all take for granted. I dare say, however, that Queensland’s glorious Great Barrier Reef is not one of them. Boaties, fishermen (and women), landlubbers, tourists of all shapes and sizes and nationalities – we all love to visit the Great Barrier Reef. We come to snorkel, to dive, to fish or just to look and to be amazed by the splendour of this place.
The Great Barrier Reef, or as early explorers called it, the Great Barrier of Reefs, is not one single coral reef but a series of over 3000 individual reef systems, coral cays and hundreds of picturesque tropical islands. It is the largest coral reef system in the world and spans more than 2000km along the north-east coast of Australia. It runs parallel to the Queensland coast – between 15 and 150km offshore and around 65km wide in places. It covers an area of approximately 344,400sqkm with brilliant, vivid coral and fish-life that provide divers with an amazing underwater experience.
Delicate featherlike White Christmas Tree Worms. A decorative Maori Wrasse patrol the reef.
An interesting in and out of water shot of coral near the water's surface. Photo Tourism and Events Queensland
The Great Barrier Reef is home to thousands of species of plants and animals. It can be seen from outer space and is the world’s biggest single structure made by living organisms. It is larger than the Great Wall of China and due to its great length it spans a wide range of climates.
The Great Barrier Reef is truly one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World. The Queensland National Trust named it a State Icon of Queensland. It has to be considered one of Australia’s most remarkable natural gifts.
What are coral reefs and why are they so important?
Corals are actually tiny animals that belong to a group that includes hydras, jellyfish and sea anemones. Corals are not mobile. They remain fixed in one place and feed by catching prey such as small fish and planktonic animals with their tentacles. Every colony of corals consists of many individuals, each called a polyp. They secrete a hard calcium carbonate skeleton which is a uniform base for the colony. This hard skeleton also provides the polyps with protection from predators as they can retract back inside it. The calcium carbonate is being continuously deposited by these living colonies and, over time, they create larger and larger coral reefs. Growth can vary greatly and depends on the species of coral and its environmental conditions. There are different species of coral in a variety of sizes and shapes. For instance, brain corals, fan corals, staghorn corals all create a wonderful diversity of appearance within the reef system.
Most reef-dwelling corals have a symbiotic relationship with algae. The plant-like algae live inside coral polyps and produce food through photosynthesis which they share with the polyp. In return the algae receive protection and gain access to light (necessary for photosynthesis). The coral also takes its colour from the algae.
Because reef buiding corals need light for photosynthesis they are found in shallow, clear water where light can reach down to the coral polyps. They also require tropical or sub-tropical temperatures so they exist globally in a band 30° north to 30° south of the equator.
How did the Great Barrier Reef begin?
The land below what is now the Great Barrier Reef was once a coastal plain which had formed from eroded sediments of the Great Dividing Range with some higher hills. The sea level rose steadily from 20,000 years ago until 6,000 years ago and corals began to grow higher on the hills of the coastal plain. Around 13,000 years ago the sea level was about 60m lower than it is today and some of the hills had become continental islands but these gradually submerged as the sea level continued to rise. Coral naturally continued to grow upwards, overgrowing the hills and forming today’s reefs. Corals can increase in diameter from 1-3cm per year and, vertically, can grow anywhere between 1 and 25cm per year. They only grow above a depth of 150m due to a need for sunlight and they cannot grow above sea level. In the last 6,000 years there has been no significant increase in the sea level. The CRC Reef Research Centre estimates the present living reef structure to be 6,000 to 8,000 years old.
Wildlife of the Great Barrier Reef
A diversity of life is supported by the Great Barrier Reef – this includes many vulnerable or endangered species. Thirty species of whales, dolphins and porpoises have been recorded in the region including the dwarf minke, the Indo-Pacific humpback dolphin and the humpback whale. There are also large populations of dugongs, numerous species of sharks, cone snails, various nudibranchs; and there are six species of sea turtles that come to the reef to breed.
The Great Barrier Reef has the world’s largest collection of corals … more than 400 different types … a variety of coral sponges, close to 5,000 species of molluscs have been recorded, rays, dolphins, over 1500 species of tropical fish, more than 200 species of birds, about 20 kind of reptiles including sea turtles and giant clams some of which are over 120 years old.
Tourism and the Reef
Naturally, tourism will flourish in an area such as this. It is the largest commercial activity in the region. Up and down the coast there’s a variety of boat tours and cruises on offer for the visitor who can take single day trips to longer charters. The type and size of vessels available varies from dinghies to ferries to super yachts. Once at the reef there are glass-bottomed boats. Small aircraft can fly you over the reef; Sea planes will land near coral cays or islands and helicopters will often actually land you right on a coral cay for a private lunch. Snorkelling and diving are probably the most popular activities. Pontoons are often used for this but the most favoured areas are at the outer reef due to the water quality.
Captain James Cook
When Captain James Cook sailed northwards in 1770 through what is now Queensland waters, he found himself trapped inside a series of reefs that edged ever closer to the coast. It is a well-known fact that Cook tried in vain to escape the dangerous waters and that his ship, the Endeavour, struck a reef near modern-day Cooktown. It was eventually repaired and the great navigator sailed his ship back home to Great Britain. But the series of reefs which comprised the Great Barrier Reef became well known over the years as a dangerous area to navigate with many vessels large and small coming to grief.
Today, the modern mariner has a multitude of navigational aids but vessels still manage to hit our Great Barrier Reef. Some modern-day fishermen that I know nicknamed it, aptly, the Great Barrier of Griefs.
The crown of thorns starfish destroys the reef it eats but is prey for turtles, Blue Linckia starfish on a coral bommie and two divers
exploring just above the sandy sea bed with the walls of the reef stretching up beside them towards the surface.
Photos Tourism and Events Queensland
Protection of the reef
While reefs appear hard solid constructions they are actually delicate and their protection depends on careful vessel management to avoid hitting the reef, land communities reducing outfalls and runoff as well as careful tourists who will respect these delicate ecosystems that give such beauty to the region and such joy to those who witness it.
I have seen, over the years, a huge number of yachts and power boats lying dejected and forlorn on reefs and rocks. Some have been re-floated to live another day while others were too badly damaged and had to be abandoned. But it’s not only small recreational vessels that have problems but many large ships have also been known to end up stuck fast. And when they hit, they can do a lot more environmental damage and re-floating them is usually much more difficult.
The first incident that comes to my mind involves the TNT Alltrans. It is a diesel powered bulk carrier and carries alumina in bulk. The ship was only two years old when, enroute from Gladstone, Queensland, to Bluff, New Zealand, it grounded on Lady Musgrave Island at about 0340 on March 25, 1985. The island’s light was only about 600m ahead and must have been shining straight into the bridge but the ship’s engines remained full ahead until they were stopped at about 0400. While there was no loss of life or injury to anyone on board and no pollution of the marine environment the ship itself suffered extensive damage to the hull. This grounding was directly attributable to the officer of the watch who failed to control the navigation of the Alltrans ‘over an extended period’.
Another grounding that I remember quite clearly occurred off Cairns on November 2, 2000. The 22,000 tonnes, 184m container ship the Bunga Teratai Satu, with a full cargo of containers and 1,200 tonnes of fuel in its tanks ran aground on Sudbury Reef. From news reports at the time, it appears that the person on the helm was chatting on the phone to his wife and neglected to make a necessary course change resulting in the ship coming to a grinding halt on the reef.
A lot of damage was done to the coral when the ship’s hull seriously scraped against the coral reef, damaging an area measuring 1,500m2 and leaving tiny flakes of antifoul paint widespread over the reef. (The antifoul paint was tributyltin which is allowed on commercial and naval ships but is illegal for mere mortals in our small boats, although it is definitely the most effective at keeping the barnacles off the hull!)
No cargo or fuel was lost and the vessel was refloated on November 13 after three rescue attempts, however there was an outcry from Aborigines and environmentalist groups as to how this was to be achieved.
I remember hearing the Minister for Transport and Main Roads at the time, Steve Bredhauer, on TV and radio assuring the public that specialists were just ‘setting up a vibration’ to release the ship from the coral bommies where it was stuck fast. However, to all those with a modicum of intelligence it was obvious that they were going to use explosives to blast the ship free of the reef. Later news reports stated that salvage divers blew up three sections of the Sudbury coral reef which they said was necessary to allow tugs to pull the ship free.
The ship owner came to an agreement with the Australian authorities about stabilising and cleaning the reef and a specialised service provider was recruited to carry out the work which included: vacuuming of the reef and seabed to remove every piece of antifoul and other residue; the removal of the sediments and fragments accumulated around the damaged area; the reintegration of the large blocks of coral broken off and the broken shoots of living coral. I hate to think what that little exercise would have cost the ship owner.
This map shows the legal shortcut the Shen Neng 1 should have taken, and the illegal short cut where it came to grief on the reef.
The Chinese ship the Shen Neng 1 grinding away at the reef.
Oil begins to leak out of the hull of the Shen Neng 1.
In April 2010 the Chinese coal ship the Shen Neng 1 was leaving Gladstone heading for sea without a pilot on board when it smashed at full speed into the reef 70kms east of Great Keppel Island while taking a short cut in a shallow channel. The ship’s engines failed after the initial impact leaving it at the whim of the winds and tides. The ship spun out of control moving backwards and forwards across the top of the shoal.
“It moved in a broad u-shape that is approximately a kilometre and a half across and the total track that it took across the top of the shoal was about 3km,” a GBRMPA spokesman said. “There is a footprint of at least 250m by 100m that has been completely pulverised and wiped clean of any marine life,” he continued.
By the next day a 3km ribbon of oil had seeped from the ship and was threatening precious coral and marine life in the World Heritage-listed Marine Park. A total of three tonnes of heavy fuel oil was spilt into the ocean some of which was believed to have washed up on a pristine beach on North West Island about 10nm south of Douglas Shoal where the ship was grounded for 10 days.
An attempt is made to collect spilt oil leaking from the Shen Neng 1.
North West Island is the most important bird rookery on the reef and is home to 500,000 sea birds as well as a major turtle nesting colony. Campers first reported the oil and MSQ confirmed tar balls ranging in size from a 50 cent piece to a shovel load were covering about one kilometre of beach. GBRMPA believed it will take the reef up to 20 years to recover.
Many ships take the legal short cut to save time and money, however the Shen Neng 1 was outside the legal area and was surrounded by a 3nm prohibited zone for cargo ships. On November 14, 2012 the ship’s captain pleaded guilty to the charge of causing damage to a marine park and has been ordered to pay a fine of $25,000 with 28 days to pay. Magistrate Mark Morrow took into account Jichang Wang wasn’t steering the ship at the time of the incident but says as the captain he was ultimately liable. The ship’s second-in-charge, Xuegang Wang, was sentenced the previous month (October 2012) to three months in jail over the incident.
In 2016 the Federal Government reached a $39.3m out-of-court settlement with the owners of the ship. The Environmental Minister, Josh Frydenberg, said this would allow GBRMPA to remove toxic anti-fouling paint and rubble and restore the natural ecological processes of the reef. “Our ongoing actions to pursue funds to clean-up the pollution sends an unambiguous signal that damage to the Great Barrier Reef world heritage area is unacceptable,” he said. Nine years after the Chinese-owned coal carrier ran aground on the Douglas Shoal, efforts to restore the reef are finally about to begin.
These are only three ships among many that I have personally known of having hit our beautiful reef. With the amount of damage just one ship can do, as seen by the Shen Neng 1 incident, and with the increase in shipping in reef waters one can only hope that more care is taken by them in future.
As well as many ships, there seem to constantly be trawlers and smaller boats and yachts ‘hitting the bricks’ for various reasons. Some of these are even charter boats that are traversing their regular daily routes and I have to wonder how this can happen. The reef doesn’t move!
One would think that with all our modern-day equipment … our paper charts, our plotters, GPS’s, beacons etc. that cruising the coast would be like cruising the highway in our cars. In many spots, I would say that it is as easy … so long as the skipper is alert. There are, however, some areas of Australia’s coastline that are not satisfactorily charted so great care must be taken. We can’t always blame the lack of charting for these accidents. Some would occur due to bad weather conditions and equipment failure but, according to experts, the vast majority of these encounters come about due to lack of attention, lack of experience, maybe even over-confidence at times, and alcohol.
Aerial view of the Ribbon Reef. Photo Tourism and Events Queensland
And while we certainly don’t go aground out of choice we really do have to take a lot more care. We can’t afford to be inattentive. Someone should always be alert and on watch. I keep telling people that nothing beats your eyes … and a good depth sounder. Check and double check your charts to ensure you are on track in clear water. You wouldn’t want to damage your boat either, but could you afford the clean-up costs that the authorities would impose on you if you hit and damaged the reef?
Take a look at the beautiful reef photos here. See how glorious it can be, and then look again at the damage done by the Shen Neng 1.
We have a beautiful reef system, right here off our coast. If we look after it, our great great great grandchildren will be able to enjoy it as well as their descendants. So as the saying goes “don’t destroy what we came to enjoy”.
Paradise Found
Return to Anui after a little wander on the cay.
For a destination with a difference, how about a coral cay? Christine Danger explains what these beautiful little islets are about and takes us visiting six of them in Far North Queensland.
Have you ever seen those amazing wisps of whiteness gleaming out from a turquoise sea, these tiny sand islands on the Great Barrier Reef? If you have, like us, you probably go searching for them because sand cays, as they are called, not only provide a bit of shelter at anchor, but most importantly they are absolutely stunning. On the other hand if you have never seen them, then you’d better add them to your bucket list! Either way, here are six solitary sand cays worth visiting in Far North Queensland.
So first of all, what is a sand cay?
Unlike continental islands which share the same geology as the nearby mainland, a sand cay is a small, low elevation sandy island on the surface of a coral reef. A cay forms when ocean currents transport loose sediment across the surface of a reef to a low area where the current slows or converges with another current, releasing its sediment load. Gradually, layers of deposited sediment build up on the reef surface and an island is formed. Its shape changes with time, governed by the weather patterns and tidal movements.
Some cays are still relatively young, and start their life as a sandbank. Other more established ones are covered with vegetation which gives them more stability.
The cay resulting from sediment accumulation is made up of the skeletal remains of plants and animals from the surrounding reef ecosystems. Much of this sediment is comprised of coral skeleton – calcium carbonate – that has been processed through various species of parrotfish. As the parrotfish feed, their beak-like mouths scrape algae off dead coral, taking small pieces of coral skeleton with it. The parrotfish then eliminate the sand, which falls to the reef floor in a very fine sandy powder. Yap, fish poo! Think of that next time you sit on one of those gorgeous islets gazing at the amazing views and graduations of colours!
I can hear you ask, so you want us to sit on a pile of poo. What’s the attraction?
Well first of all, the cay despite its small elevation, together with its surrounding reef, provide a little bit of shelter for anchoring, particularly at low tide when the reef breaks the effect of waves and swell.
Secondly, cays are home to a great diversity of wildlife, both in the surrounding reef and on the islet itself. You go there not only for snorkelling, but for bird watching.
And lastly, you go there for how they make you feel – serene, in awe, away from all your worries!
So let us take you to six of our favourites you might like to visit along the Far North Queensland coast, and tell you a little about their appeal.
1. UNDINE CAY
Aerial of Undine Cay – a different perspective!
Reef dweller – a black patch Triggerfish. The seascape at Undine Reef.
Undine is one of those dreamy islets that appear in the middle of the ocean and take your breath away. It is surrounded by turquoise water, with a shallow reef further out. No public mooring there, but good anchoring in 10-12m of crystal clear water. It begs for you to hop into the dinghy as soon as you have safely anchored and come ashore on a pristine patch of sand where the only footprints are those of a few sooty terns. Although the shallow reef surrounding the cay is not as striking as other reefs we have been to, we still managed to spot species of fish we had not seen before and the soft coral was pretty.
2. VLASOFF CAY
Amazing graduations at Vlasoff Cay.
Helicopters land on Vlasoff Cay if no one is on it.
About 20nm from Cairns through a network of reefs, is the tiny Vlasoff Cay, not vegetated, gleaming in the sunshine and nestled in the middle of turquoise waters. You can anchor in 8-10m of water over sand or pick up one of four public mooring buoys. You will gaze at unbelievably beautiful graduations of aqua and ultramarine as far as the eye can see. You wish you could get Vlasoff to yourself. But you possibly won’t. It is a favourite with choppers from Cairns, which fly over quite often; some land there and drop couples for a brief visit, complete with sun umbrella, deck chairs and a glass of bubbly. But here is a little secret: as long as there is someone on the cay, no helicopter will land – a safety precaution. So if you sail to this gorgeous little islet, we think it is a rather cool place to take a picnic and a bottle of fine wine and celebrate the joy of being there on your own deserted island.
3. LOW ISLES
Aerial of Low Isle and its quaint lighthouse.
Fifteen kilometres off the coast of Port Douglas, Low Isles is a good spot for sheltering in stronger wind and for birdwatching. Low Isles is actually two sand cays which have evolved quite separately with regard to their vegetation. Low Isle itself is a pretty vegetated coral cay complete with palm trees, its own lighthouse and a couple of buildings looked after by a caretaker. The coral cay shares a common reef with the mangrove island called Woody Island. In the shelter of the reef and in between the two islands is a quasi-lagoon with three public moorings, and another two further out. So chances are when you get there, you won’t have to anchor. But if you do, there is plenty of space in 8-10m of water over sand.
What is attractive about this spot, apart from the scenic cays, is the birdlife. Lots of sooty terns, imperial pigeons, a couple of ospreys which have built their nest on the side of the lighthouse top, whimbrels, reef egrets to name a few. The snorkelling there leaves a bit to be desired. The reef is dominated by soft corals and the usual variety of fish such as parrotfish, angelfish and fusiliers. But being very close to the mainland, the waters are affected by coastal runoffs which have damaged the coral garden and severely limit visibility. We still liked Low Isles though for its great shelter and birdlife.
4. MACKAY CAY
Aerial of Mackay Cay and its beautiful colour graduations. Crinoid Feather Stars clining to the reef wall.
On most days, you will see the rainforest covered range along the mainland whilst enjoying the cay and snorkelling this reef. And yet it is such a different world out on the reef! There are two public moorings there, as well as ample space to anchor in 10-12m of water over sand, clear of bommies. You can go and admire your catamaran from the dazzling height of the sand cay top – 3m – which gives you a different perspective on your surroundings and the colours of the reef will take your breath away.
Hopping into the clear water and seeing what lies beneath is one of those ‘OMG’ moments. We have snorkelled at dozens and dozens of sites, but Mackay Reef, particularly around the reef wall drop off impressed us. We were there for several days and explored different sections of the reef each day. There are giant clams in neon shades that hardly seem real, clownfish in their favourite anemone, the usual array of colourful parrotfish and surgeonfish zooming in and out of ledges and hidey holes. And at the drop off, on the outside, pelagic species patrol, and odd-looking tunicates and gorgonian fans decorate the wall.
5. SUDBURY CAY
Aerial of Sudbury Cay.
Tucked in not very far from Fitzroy Island, Sudbury is a centrepiece of the reefs near Cairns. There are two public moorings and lots of sandy clear patches to anchor in 10-12m of crystal clear water. The surrounding reef there is shallow, perfect for snorkelling. Some reefs are striking for their abundance of fish. At Sudbury, it is all about the gardens of soft corals swaying in the current. Of course there are all different kinds of parrotfish who can’t help but dive bomb your underwater photos, poking their fins at every opportunity. And then there are the endearing green sea turtles. I spent a fair bit of time swimming with one particular turtle who kept coming back to me. I suspect he was utterly bewitched by my figure hugging wetsuit, finned feet and oh-so-sexy snorkel!
Sudbury is another one of those sights that will erase all your worries in a nanosecond. Down below, there are no bills to pay, no project deadlines, no appointment schedules ... Once you are below the waterline, nothing else matters, you are in this very moment.
6. MICHAELMAS CAY
Mooring at Michaelmas.
Not only is Michaelmas cay stunning, but it is also an extremely important nesting habitat for migrating birds, the largest in the southern hemisphere. We are talking about thousands and thousands of nesting birds. In fact when you first approach the cay, all you can see is a dark cloud above the islet – hundreds of birds flying over – and all you can hear is their deafening calls, day and night non-stop. You will see brown boobies with their odd blue beak and green feet (the males), lots of sooty and bridled terns, beautiful noddies, even a frigate bird or two. It really is a special spot for birdwatchers. The sand cay has limited public access, with a roped area for visitors to stay within, so as not to disturb the nesting birds.
The waters around the cay are a haven for turtles resting and foraging all over and have a rich marine fauna including giant clams. Another cool thing: dozens of schooling batfish and snappers mingle under your hulls ... It is great to jump off the back of the boat and join in to the action. They are really inquisitive, swimming under you, around you, at you, totally unafraid. And the black trevallies are very tame too, even if a little more daunting when they come close.
The sandy lagoon is one of the rare spots that are wind and swell protected and the coral is immediately adjacent to the beach. This is because it is protected by not only Michaelmas reef and cay, but also the Arlington Reef – a reef within a reef! There are two public moorings close in and space to anchor in clear water over sand a little further out. You can also hook onto the moorings of several tour operators when not in use. They are well maintained. You just have to be prepared to vacate if the tour boats turn up.
So if you are seeking a one of a kind reef experience, consider sailing out to one of the fantastic coral cays along the Queensland coast. We have given you six in Far North Queensland, but there are some 300 in the whole Great Barrier Reef. So here is an idea: See how many you can discover. Go and witness some unforgettable graduations of colour, some amazing undersea creatures and stunning birds while playing castaway. Have fun!
Wessels Vessels
As we Catamaran Call Ourselves
Angarumurada (Rat's Cove)
By Doug and Jeanette Levoune - SC Reeflection
We had a ‘lightbulb moment’ on our return trip from The Kimberley in 2008 as we passed over the top of Groote Eylandt prior to crossing the Gulf of Carpentaria, west to east. Seeing this landscape for the first time opened our eyes to a wilderness beauty, similar in parts to the Kimberley, that can be had closer to the east coast. With no Kimberley like large waterfalls or high canyon cliffs but rock formations, safe clear anchorages and of course fishing to make any cruiser content. Like Angarumurada (Rats Cove) shown in the photo above. Blue sky not an option here.
We decided we just had to go back and explore Groote Eylandt and coastal Arnhem Land. It took us 11 years to achieve this goal, but now we are here anchored in Inverell Bay, Gove.
What started as a brief discussion between the crews of Catina and Reeflecton, turned into a full blown proposal within a few short weeks. Not only Groote Eylandt, but Arnhem Land and the Wessels as well. This time in company and having the time to soak up the regions along the way.
As the Queensland East Coast SE trade winds blow strong and true during the dry season the principle of slowly moving north with the wind to enjoy the anchorages encountered on the way. We knew from previous experience that the return home was not going to be until November at the earliest and not much time for dilly dallying.
Forbes Island catamarans at anchor. Rainman as installed on Reeflection.
Putting the word around long time cruisers we knew, soon established a small group that grew and grew into the seven catamarans that are now in Gove with us. With such a large group of very able and confident women to lead the way our organisation proceeded to a much higher level.
The Reeflection crew started full time cruising in 2003, with short hops firstly to the Whitsundays, then further to Cairns, Lizard etc. Before our first extended trip from Sydney to the Kimberley and return in 2008.
With the help of other cruisers along the way we learned to provision over time. Being stuck in Island Head Creek, Hunter Island and other locations for 8-10 days or more due to weather, sorts out your needs and wants very quickly. Food that will last the distance between the very sparse shopping facilities of the far north and with a diet that can sustain you in the tropics. Fish, crabs and oysters supplement what is purchased. We also grow hydroponic lettuce and herbs. Buying seedlings at the big green hardware and cutting off the leaves as they regrow, we get months of fresh salad vegetables. Vacuum sealing meat and fish extends their life and with a good freezer a boon.
The need to be self reliant goes also to the vessel, the boat needs to be done over thoroughly with sails, motors and other equipment not only checked but spares obtained where necessary. There are no chandlers at say Cape Wessel or Far Away Bay. If you think a capital city business can send parts overnight to isolated rural locations, think again. The phone coverage we are experiencing in 2019 is not as good as 2008. We have our diary from 2008, places we had 3G then have no coverage at all now. The Portland Roads phone tower had been damaged in a cyclone early 2019 and was still not repaired on August 7. To get phone coverage we had to climb to the top of a hill to receive a one bar signal from Lockhart River.
Hand prints - Hanging Rock area.
Also a cruising captain has not known real pressure until a washing machine has been installed on a cruising yacht and there is insufficient water to use the machine when needed or just desired.
For a number of years we had a 12 volt watermaker that produced 20 litres per hour. This unit requiring 9.0 amps at 12 volts d.c. could be run off the solar panels during suitable conditions. It was very effective for drinking, showering etc until the washing machine arrived. This single-tub unit requires many litres for a high wash and rinse. I know, I know what you are thinking.
So what to do? Cruising friends offered suggestions including yacht engine driven or standalone units of either 12 volt or 240 volt drives.
We needed sufficient fresh water while not having to spend hours making water (cuts into fishing time); Not having to run the main diesel engines lightly loaded, but being able to charge batteries too we felt would be a bonus.
Watermakers are an expensive item but on a cruising yacht spending many months in remote water deficient locations like the Gulf of Carpenteria or The Kimberley or just wanting to avoid marinas or towns, a watermaker is worth the expense.
Working the floor at a couple of boat shows allowed us to see most of what was available. Rainman watermakers were recommended by a few cruisers and we approached the Rainman stand at the Sanctuary Cove Boat Show to get the rundown. Brett and Deb Swann from ‘The Watermaker Man’ are dealers for Rainman and gave a good presentation of the various units on display; 12 volt, petrol driven and 240 volt units. They have had extensive cruising experience so know what they are about.
We selected the 240 volt option as it could be powered by a 2.2 KVA generator that could charge batteries or supply other 240 volt appliances. Brett and Deb also supplied a Honda generator to suit. Talk about a one-stop-shop.
Our unit was hand delivered to our yacht a few days after the boat show and Brett walked us through the operating procedure. Even though the unit is normally stand alone. We decided to mount the membrane unit on the side wall above the engine compartment and remove the cover to expose the control knob. The drive unit was located adjacent to the membrane unit. With the generator outside on the stern, the input hose is just uncoiled and lowered into the water. The brine outlet permanently installed into the hull (the old watermaker outlet reused). A two switches and a knob, how simple is that for control?
Now making Rainman fresh water for over nine months in various locations, the unit is quick and easy to set up and produces the stated 140 l/h and in the Gulf about 150 l/h due to the warmer waters. ‘And happy washer-people are we, wild and fancy free’, forevermore; as the song should go.
Our original group of five came together in Cairns. While some were attending to family duties, two cats took off north, three others followed later. We all met up again in Morris Island and somehow along the way two other catamarans had joined the group. It seems like cats just like to hang together, a kitty litter of sorts?
We had heard about Restoration Island where Captain Bligh stopped to refresh his crew before heading further north. The Millionaire Castaway, David Glasheen lives there now. We dropped in for a visit but he was not home. We only walked the beach as to enter someone’s home without them there we considered inappropriate. A really beautiful island, we can see why he chose it all those years ago. The ABC has done a story on him and a recent book is an account of his life.
Reeflection – sunset Forbes Island.
We moved onto Portland Roads (population six to eight) about four miles away and booked a meal for 12 at the only business in town, the Out of the Blue Café. Just as the meal was about to start David Glasheen himself arrived with a few books in hand. We had a good chat, bought a few signed books and had a photo taken.
We had been told about Forbes Island on our return trip in 2008 but the weather had been against us, but not this time. Proceeding around the top of Gallon Reef and picking our way through the coral heads we arrived at a most remote beautiful location. Forbes Island is the main and two smaller islands surround. Here the five cats lazing in the anchorage. As cats do.
There was a nice beach and a walk up the hill provided a good view of the other islands. The next day we walked the sand spit to one of the islands and started the beach boule competition, and how was that for a sunset?
Groote Eylandt rock formation. View of Chasm Island through an archway at Hanging Rock.
With the SE trades mostly 20-25kts at this time of year we lap up the miles. After a short stop at Margaret Bay we moved onto Cape York via Albany Passage. Anchoring in the shallow bay west of the Cape, went ashore and climbed to the tip for a photo. Some poor misguided members of our group suggested we would have the tip all to ourselves. Not a chance, 4WD’s and busses everywhere. So we elbowed our way through the grey nomads to the northern tip of our great island. How do you tell a 4WD drive from a cruiser? Answer – The 4WD passengers still have the shakes from the corrugated roads.
From Cape York we went to Seisa rather than Horn or Thursday Island due to the strict food quarantine regulations. As we had stocked up in Cairns we only needed fuel for the dinghy. A few of us walked into Bamaga for mail, as it was after lunch it was stinking hot, so seeing a taxi number on the supermarket notice board, called for a taxi. A bloke in Weipa answered and said the taxi service shut down two years ago. So we were left to walk back the 7km. After about 15 minutes walking a seven seat 4WD pulled up and took the six of us back to the boat ramp. The lady said she was a nurse at the local hospital and they did not have enough beds for exhausted tourists, so get in.
The formally kind SE winds now turned against us so we tacked our way slowly to Weipa. The amount of rubbish in the anchorages has concerned us but the quantity in the Gulf really shocked us. Collecting plastic etc at each anchorage was always one of our tasks on our beach walks but the number of nets and squid jigs really annoyed and amazed us.
At Weipa we anchored on the Cora Bank opposite Evans Landing where a wharf obviously constructed for a category 5 cyclone and not inflatable friendly allowed access to shore. In the morning the SE blows Bauxite dust all over the boats and in the afternoon the wind turns SW and the burn-off soot just tops off the red dust. Also don’t anchor in the channel as the ore carriers take up all the room.
Dinghy viewing of formations – Port Bradshaw and dust on vehicles at Weipa Mine.
We did the old and new township and mine bus tour. Interesting information included that most of these large bauxite carrying trucks have female drivers as they are much kinder to the trucks. One day’s dust on the workers vehicles and a stockpile being loaded on a ship.
Leaving from around Weipa, the gulf was mainly a non-event, sailing most of the way, even having the spinnaker up all day two.
Arriving at Groote Eylandt’s Port Langdon we rested for a couple of days before heading west again. We had previously negotiated permits for the designated recreation locations like Rats Cove shown earlier and Hanging Rock where some of the alleged best preserved cave paintings can be observed. We met three archeologists and an Elder who were very helpful during our visit.
Moving on up the east coast of Arnhem Land the landscape could not be more different. In Port Bradshaw near where we anchored were rock-faces like these. We did not need to go ashore as the dinghy could do all the work for us.
We have found the locals very friendly and with permits are able to access the land to view the most remarkable environment.
Rudderless At Sea
Chaotic Harmony is a 21 year old Catana 42 with a family of four on a sailing adventure to discover the known world. Ian Johnstone and Jo Grace are accompanied by their two children Gill (14) and Keely (11).
Gill on watch, Pacific Ocean and rudderless. The family who called Chaotic Harmony home.
Chaotic Harmony set sail from Cairns in March 2010 on a circumnavigation to show the kids that there is more to life than electronics, TV and the ambiguous Xbox. Over the years we have sailed across the Top End of Australia, throughout Asia, cruised the Indian Ocean and the Atlantic and visited many countries and islands before heading through the Panama Canal in February 2013 to allow us to explore the islands of the Pacific Ocean.
In early March 2013 we left Balboa for a direct journey to Ilse Marquises in French Polynesia, a distance of approximately 4000nm. Our intention was to cruise the French Polynesian Islands before beginning an island and country hopping venture to finally arrive in Sydney, New South Wales by November 2013 where we hoped to stay for the New Year’s Eve fireworks before heading north to Brisbane and back into the South Pacific.
The journey went well and 10 days into the trip we had made good about 1000nm in very light and variable trade winds but then began to speed up as we encountered good south easterly trades of 20-25kts from about 10° south latitude. By day 19 we had made good about 2200nm and beginning to get back into our regular daily runs of 200nm and could give the Code Zero a rest. At this stage we also began to see a lot of large tuna boats who did not answer any VHF radio calls where we wanted to enquire on the positioning of nets and long lines.
By day 21 the wind had backed to the east from a steady southeast and we were down to just using the large genoa as we cannot fly the main when sailing directly down wind. We also were beginning to slow down to under 6kts in a 15kt breeze and this was odd but we could not see anything trailing behind. The tuna and dorado were plentiful but far too large to bring aboard so it just became sport fishing. One of the tuna actually stripped the gears from our large Penn reel.
Since leaving Panama we had been chatting with a few other yachts on a MF/HF radio sked called the Pacific Magellan Net. It is all very formal these days and all the nets operate the same with the same script. No chance of informality in this part of the world but still nice to talk to other humans once in a while. There is a huge fleet of yachts crossing this year and we were one of the first to have left so we could beat the rush. The Oyster Rally is also happening this year and these boats are literal gold mines for the locals so the prices tend to move higher in some ports. We wanted to miss that hopefully.
The first stretch of the Pacific Crossing is a long one and the longest sail we will do this trip. The section from Panama to French Polynesia is also one of the most isolated stretches of water in the world and you can actually get to a point where there is nothing closer than 1800nm in any direction. I love ocean passages and could just keep sailing around and around as long as there was beer, rice and an occasional fish to eat but the strain had been telling as we entered the second week of our passage. We seemed to have had nothing but bad luck. Halyards jamming, unexpected jybes, furling sails that would not furl, main sails that tear and motors not starting when needed (dead diodes in the isolators) flat batteries, lack of wind, squall lines every night and basically everything that could usually goes wrong or makes the journey difficult began to happen. Our good luck had changed.
On day 21 at 2245 Jo calls out to me that we have jybed and can I help. Up on deck, lights on and the genoa jybed across to starboard when the wind picked up to 30kts and we thought we should shorten it but the furling line was jammed. With Gill assisting we unwrapped the line forward and restacked the furler when Jo pointed out that the spinnaker halyard was wrapped on top of the genoa top furler as well. More night work in 30kts on a wet deck with kamikazi flying fish and a crazy cat hell bent on getting them fresh to contend with. All done when we discover that the autopilot cannot hold the new course and that we were proceeding very slowly. Engines on and sail furled but still no course for the autopilot and to make matters worse the engine on the port side was working but the propellors did not seem to be working. What the bloody hell had gone wrong now?
There was a strange banging sound coming from port aft and when we investigated we saw a catastrophic failure had occurred on the port rudder and it was either swinging wildly or jammed against the saildrive, crashing onto the propellor with shuddering impact and potentially damaging the seals that may have allowed water inboard as well as destroying itself and its fittings. There were now two ways to flood the boat as well as stress everything. Wow, 1400nm from anywhere and “Houston we have a problem”.
Upper section of the broken rudder shaft.
We could no longer steer as we just went around in circles so all sail was lowered and we decided the best course of action was to ‘lay a hull’ to the waves and wind to await daylight and a complete a damage assessment. By morning it was still blowing 25-30kts with a 2m sea and three metre swell from the east giving us breakers over the port
side and a bouncy ride but we could see the damage that had been done and so began to make plans to get underway.
Upon investigation in daylight we saw the rudder shaft had snapped completely just above the lower bearing and we needed to secure it somehow before its wild swinging completely destroyed the saildrive. I made two dives that day at sea and have promised myself that I will never do it again. By swimming under the hull I tried to restrain the rudder but with the seas running and the movement of the boat it proved impossible and very dangerous as I was swept away a few times, banged against the hulls and caught under the boat when my life line was tangled on the saildrive. We tried to capture the rudder by lowering a net and trying to swing it around but with the seas it too proved improbable. By swimming however I noticed the rudder was totally devoid of paint and badly damaged indicating that we must have had the net or line for quite awhile. Jo called a halt to swimming and I was glad she did.
We decided to give ourselves a day or so for a weather improvement and try again but 36 hours later it was still blowing 20 plus and the seas if anything were steeper so a plan to try and remove the rudder began. By this time we were also very despondent and I had contacted the MRCC (Maritime Rescue Coordination Centre) in Papeete, Tahiti and Peru to report that we were in a precarious situation and although we were safe and well with plenty of food and water if we could not affect repairs we would need assistance.
Our second plan was to force the rudder and lower half of the snapped shaft out of the boat and just use one rudder. We pulled the top section of the shaft out and realised the shaft had completely sheared within the boat itself and not at the upper or lower seals/bearings. The lower shaft section was jammed but was also scouring the inside of the hull assembly it was seated in and would have worked its way through the watertight bulkhead within a few hours. We realised that this was what had been happening but did not realise how bad it had gotten in such a short time. We needed to punch it out and used a small hammer and an old broom handle greased with several good swear words when to our absolute amazement it fell out and disappeared down into the Pacific Basin. There was a leak through the rubbing and grinding but it was manageable with a screw and lots of epoxy.
This was the first win we had had and it felt good so we continued as we wanted to see if we could get away with steering the boat with one rudder. It worked and after 48 hours of laying a’hull we were underway again and monitoring the leak as well as adjusting our course and sail plan to stay under 6.5kts which seemed to be about as much as one rudder was able to handle. So why was all the paint missing from the rudder and why did we think we had an adverse current? My guess was we had picked up a heavy net and had trailed it without seeing it astern for a few days. As the wind was so steady it was not a drag on the hydraulic steering and autopilot but when the wind backed and we jybed all hell broke loose in what should have been a solid stainless shaft but in actuality was a thick tube that had sheared completely. The troops on the Pacific Magellan Net talked to us and offered assistance and the MRCC of Peru and of Papeete called on the sat phone several times ready to render a rescue.
Steering was very difficult and we used two drogues towed astern from each hull. A long line with a knotted rope to port and a shorter one to starboard. By continually adjusting these we stabilised the boat for each wind shift as the port hull became much faster than the starboard. After a few days we actually pulled the port drogue out completely when the wind dropped. We did find that if we kept Chaotic Harmony below 6kts steering was much easier.
On April 1 we arrived off Hiva Oa after a very slow crossing and managed to secure an anchorage to check into the country and to organise a haul out in Papeete, a further 800nm away. After a week at the lovely Tahuata Ilse just south of Hiva Oa we finally relaxed and filled the boat with fruits at a small bay called Hanahmoenoa. It has an abandoned copra camp just off the beach and an orchard inland full of popplemouse, mangoes, limes, bananas and coconuts. Fish off the back of the boat, fresh fruit and fresh bread from the oven.
Once we got the nerve up to actually leave again we picked up a south east 12kt breeze and scooted out of Tahuata heading west-south west to enable us pass the Archipel Des Tuamotus to the south (due to our limited steering) and then head south-south west into Papeete, the main city of Tahiti where we will get new rudders made to continue our adventures.
At sea inspecting the damage in the port engine room.
The wind gradually backed again to dead astern and increased making life difficult for the autopilot and reefed to slow us down to under 7kts. Any greater and we immediately jybe as the sole rudder cannot do the job. We tended to meander 30° either side of our course on autopilot with the rope drogues so sail jybes became the norm until we would once again settle down and stabilise on our course. This was a lot better than we could accomplish with hand steering as I think it would be like trying to navigate a road train through a supermarket carpark. Our best day included 32 jybes with Code Zero and/or genoa so it kept us busy.
We arrived in Papeet and have hauled to construct two new balanced rudders as well as a few other jobs. The wire rope seagull striker has now nearly demolished itself due to differing hull speeds I guess and too much stress. Probably all the jybes did not help but it got us here with chains and a handy billy. I need to thank Gavin LeSeuer for this idea as he had used it on eDoc and also his many emails that offered encouragement and friendship.
So was there a third plan? Yes, and it meant abandoning Chaotic Harmony to the oceans as it was a very difficult situation with a family and young kids aboard. This plan would have been enacted immediately if we could not have removed the rudder as it is just a matter of time before were were filled with water.
The Sandfly and Midge Dilemma
Midges, sandflies call them what you will these tiny bugs can really leave you itching and scratching ...
Spending time on the Queensland coastline, especially in areas where mangroves are prolific will assuredly mean coming into contact with
sandflies and the dreaded midge itch. The constant need to guard against these incessant predators can prove difficult and anyone who has ever been victim to the bites of sandflies knows the pain of the itch that the little critters leave behind. What many people do not know is the sandfly does not actually bite. Instead they urinate on the exposed skins of the unsuspecting amongst us and it is the reaction of the urine that causes the itch to start. While some people are virtually immune to the pain and unsightly scabs that occur there are a number of less fortunate mortals who are vulnerable to the scourge.
The one constant factor is that sandflies usually live in mangrove areas and regions where there are a lot of native coastal vegetation. While we know where they live it’s a good idea to look at ways to minimise their effects.
PRECAUTIONS TO TAKE TO STOP SANDFLIES BITING
Those prone to sandfly stings should wear long sleeved shirts and long legged jeans to act as a guard to biting midges, especially between 7am-9.30am and from about 2.30pm onwards towards dark. The early to mid morning and late afternoon are the times when sandflies are most vicious. Some companies sell insect screens, but beware, first check out that they are midge resistant. Ensure that the holes are small enough to stop the marauding critters.
All dressed up for sandflies.
LOTIONS AND POTIONS
There are a number of lotions and potions that can be purchased to stop the blighty biting. Chemists or local grocery stores have a good selection on the shelves, and it pays to keep a good supply on-board as often happens there are never any shops nearby when needed. However if you wish to take a more natural approach to stop the sandflies from biting try using baby oil infused with either lavender, tea tree or citronella. This has the effect of stopping them being able to pee on your skin. Neeme oil is also effective. It’s all a matter of choice.
WHAT TO DO AFTER THE BITE
Once you have been bitten, the easiest way to eradicate or at least alleviate the itch is to have a very hot shower by playing the hot water on the affected area. Another good result is to use lavender oil on the bite, this does work for many people, as does tea tree oil. The only problem that I have found is having oil on the body is not good for fabrics, so I always put a towel down if wearing the oil. Alternatively, I have known of people who use deodorants (by rubbing it into the area) to nullify the stinging itch.
OILS AND COILS
When purchasing oils and coils look for the citronella based ones, they will emit a quite pleasant scent that helps to keep sandflies at bay. I generally have mine going by 3.30pm. And if it’s a very overcast and humid day it may pay to light them earlier. However when anchoring in mangrove areas I have found that regardless of whether I am using coils or not I have the screens up by 3pm and don’t take them down until at least 9.30am.
On the odd occasion that we have had to leave our anchorage early necessitating our having to open the doors I have found that the incessant creatures have managed to find their way to the lower regions of our boat. A quick wipe down of the inside of the hulls with a damp cloth, especially down low has eradicated our guests.
The key is to know what form of deterrent works for you and to remain vigilant. The worst thing you can do is to scratch the itch as the skin can become infected and lead to other problems. Being a sandfly victim is no fun.
