21 October 2007
Well, here we are in Chesterfield Reef, midway to Bundaberg. (S19'52".93, E158'28") We are breaking our trip here for a few days and catching up with friends. Chesterfield Reef is a big V-shaped reef, right in the middle of precisely nowhere. It tapers out to about 8 miles across at the top, and you can enter there and move down the V to get shelter from the SE trade winds. The water is a stunning postcard turquoise colour and there are a few tiny white sand islands which are covered in nesting birds.
Terns on the beach of one of the sand cays, Chesterfield Reef →
We arrived after a rugged few days at 2.30am, not the best time to enter a reef (should be during good light, with the sun behind you and in calm conditions, not in the middle of the night, no moon & blowing 30 knots with rain) but it is really accurately charted, and we had friends inside talking us into the anchorage. On reflection, it was a really dumb thing to do, and made us remember not to get over-confident - the loss of another yacht on a nearby reef a couple of days later reinforced this) We had a bit of a sleep, then caught up with them all, the highlight of the morning's excitement being the loss of our dinghy. We were on board Melric 2 having tea when Bruce suddenly looked over the side and said "Where's the dinghy???". The rope was there, but it ended in a sad wee tassel with no dinghy on the end, and no dinghy in sight. It was blowing 30 knots and we had been nattering for an hour, so it had long gone. We sent out a search party in another dinghy and after half an hour they found it a couple of miles away over the other side of the lagoon. Whew! It would have been just too embarrassing to have whined all season about the poor condition of the outboard & dinghy, only to lose them & put in an insurance claim at our last anchorage before Australia. Very dodgy! Bruce is currently making a new tether for it and the rest of the anchorage are making up double tethers if they don't already have them. Tonight is cocktails on Melric if we don't fall over first, we didn't get to bed until 4.00am by the time we got the boat sorted, had a shower & a meal.
The trip down here was pretty vigorous. Bob McDavitt's weathergramme (weekly
report from NZ weather guru) had said that the boats in the Port2port Rally
could expect a rodeo ride from Vanuatu to Chesterfield on 20-24 October. Ha! we
thought, we'll go on the 16th and be there on the 20th and miss the rough stuff.
Unfortunately what he had omitted to say was that it would also be like that
from 16-20 October. Cheers, Bob. We had 20-30 knot headwinds with some good
sized swells building, which wasn't too bad, as long as we didn't fly too much
sail (got to use our 3rd reef for the first time in anger - works really well)
and the waves kept out of the cockpit, which unfortunately they didn't so it was
a wet old ride down. Naturally now we have got inside the reef, the wind is
dropping and a good trip is predicted. We'll probably stay here a few more days
so we can time it to avoid paying outrageous overtime charges (about $300) to
clear into Oz on a weekend.
Daemon from above
I was really sad to leave the Banks Islands, which is ironic, as I didn't want
to go there in the first place, as I was sick of canoes, palm trees etc and just
wanted to get someplace that had buffalo mozzarella cheese (we all have our
little cravings...) however Bruce was quite insistent we go in case we never got
another chance. And he was right and I was wrong (NB: Bruce, you can write that
in the ship's log with the date, not often an Upchurch will admit to being
wrong). I didn't like Gaua much, as it was pouring, the anchorage was really
rolling, and I was still sulking, but when the sun came out and we went to
Vanualava, that all changed.
27 October 2007
We left the Chesterfield Reefs yesterday and are making tracks towards Bundy, slowly. Unlike the trip down to Chesterfield, we are having light tail winds, so have the spinnaker up for its first ever outing and are trickling along nicely, unlike the 2 other boats that left with us and are motoring - pikers! (Mind you at the stunning speed of 2 knots (wee bit over 2 MPH) it can't be long!)
Nesting bird, Chesterfield Reef →
Well, the Chesterfields were just amazing, like something out of a nature documentary (as well as being training boot camp for the liver for the Bundy parties). The islands are tiny, really just sandbars with a few bushes on them, but the bushes, the rocks and the sand above high tide are just packed with nesting boobies, gannets, terns & mollies, and they have no fear of humans - you can walk right up to them. We took our boat BBQs into the beach one evening and had a barbie, which was very surreal, as these huge fluffy chicks would be peering out of the nest at you from 6 feet behind you. Very Hitchcock, very whiffy. There are also huge red hermit crabs, who got very excited when they smelt the barbie and started heading over in mass numbers to investigate.
The snorkeling was excellent - just off the beach there were big coral gardens with masses of fish of all sorts, including turtles which come there to lay their eggs (yes, I know turtles aren't fish...) - I spent ages there. No luck on crayfish hunting, though. We ended up with a "guard fish" at the boat - an angel fish the size of a dinner plate that spent 4 days hovering between our swim ladder and the hull, rolling over on its side to look at you when you got in to swim or got into the dinghy.
Caution! Guard fish on duty! →
Chris (Gitano), Dave (Pier-a-mer) & Bruce (and several billion nesting birds). Beach BBQ, Chesterfield Reef ↓
When we arrived there were five boats there, but two left the next morning, and
it stayed at that until Thursday when we ended up with a total of 13 and it
looked like a parking lot. We almost sunk an Aussie catamaran called Sub-Zero
when we all descended on them for sundowners one night. There was much yachtie
paranoia, as the reefs are officially French, so really we should have sailed
300 miles upwind to Noumea to check in at Customs, 300 miles back to enjoy the
reef, and then 300 miles to Noumea again to check out. Well, that ain't gonna
happen, so we all parked there nervously, and any reports of non-yachts in a 200
mile vicinity had everyone expecting the gentle stomp of official French
jackboots on the deck. Mind you, the French in Noumea are very relaxed about
cruisers, so I can't see them sending a patrol boat 300 miles to the reef to
defend six sandbanks and some broody birds, but it was a relief to get out
unspotted.
Well, better head off, nearly my watch, and very pleasant it is to be able to
write on a flat surface, rather than hanging off something trying not to end up
in a heap on whatever part of the boat happens to be the bottom at the time.
← So that's what it looks like! First sight of our spinnaker flying, ever!
3 November 2007
We arrived in Bundy at about 8.00am on 30 October, about 30 minutes ahead of our ETA - not bad, since I just guessed it! Customs, Immigration & Quarantine clearance was pretty painless, after all the horror stories we had heard - they even coped well with my Rom mask and all its feathered glory - it has gone down to Brisbane to be irradiated, so will probably be used as a glow-in-the-dark nightlight. People say Westsails are slow, but we were only a couple of hours behind the bigger faster boats, so we were pretty pleased with the boat & the trip. We are now tied up to the charter jetty, enjoying power, water & SHOWERS!
Well, after trying to deal with Vodafone to set up the
account* (it's only prepay for god's sake!) I am now heartily disillusioned with
civilisation (and what is with all the the bloody paper you get buried under???)
and want to go back to the islands. I could learn to love laplap. Maybe.
Although there is the shower factor - after having my first stand-up shower with
warm running water since we left Noumea in June, I'm hooked on them again.
Wonderful - you can have one, then only 3 days later have another one! Pure
luxury!
We have decided not to summer over in Bundy - if I am going to have to endure
civilisation, I want somewhere I can get buffalo mozzarella cheese and Vanity
Fair magazine. And believe me, that's not Bundy, so we are Brisbane-bound,
although Sydney has been muttered about.
Despite this, it was rather overwhelming to be confronted by such a choice of
consumer goods, after frequenting stores that sell rice, flour (25kg sack only),
sweets, tea, sugar, noodles, bars of laundry soap & kava grinders only. Bruce
got transfixed for about 15 minutes (until I slapped him) in front of a stand
with about 30 varieties of honey, totally unable to make a choice. At least we
remembered enough not to pay with T shirts and rope for the cow.
%20Dave%20(Melric).JPG)
The celebrations here have been great, it's a huge party atmosphere with so many
boats and yachties from all over the world. There are functions every night, and
often during the day as well, and despite our best intentions of getting
early-ish nights, we always seem to end up having nightcaps on people's boats,
so are starting to feel a bit jaded.
←
Joann (Pied-a-Mer) & Dave (Melric 2) party on Gitano.
Well, that's it from me - I'm off to watch the semi-finals of the petanque
competition and then make something for the pot luck tonight.
Gitano V Nabob - the grudge match! →
* Dealing With Civilisation Handy Hint #1: Vodafone seems to have programmed
"meltdown alert" into their automated operator who talks you through registering
your phone, so if all fails, swearing profusely, viciously and imaginatively at
it will get you transferred to a human.
7 November 2007
Well, all aboard Daemon are recovering from the celebrations of Bruce's 50th birthday. We had planned to celebrate it on the 5th, the actual day, but in the afternoon the heavens opened and huge amounts of rain (with accompanying thunder & lightening) put bit of a damper (no pun intended) on it, and it was a quiet-ish affair in the Rally marquee. Speeches were had, gifts were given (wine from the Rally organisers, champagne from Kassoumay & a new dinghy painter from Melric (bastards!)) and we had a few drinks before squelching back to the boat.
← Fran (Melric 2), Lesley (Rally Organising Committee BCYC), Joann (Pied-a-Mer)
Dave (Melric 2), Chris (Gitano), Worm (Melric 2) →
The next day was Melbourne Cup Day (most famous horse race in Australia - the country comes to a halt) and a chicken & champagne lunch was on the Rally agenda for the day. We had an excellent time, the horse we drew in the sweepstake came third and the champagne was very palatable. So palatable in fact that we never made it back to the boat between lunch & dinner and managed to drink the bar dry in the interim.
Much more celebration was had, I managed to ice &
transport the cake to the marquee & so it went on, until late at night when we
squeezed 11 die-hards into our cabin for coffee & liqueurs (yup, still raining -
I could have sworn Queensland was supposed to be having a drought).
↑
Cutting the cake
← Melbourne Cup Day going downhill fast Paddy (Zafarse), Bruce & Tim (Rendezvous Cay)
19 November 2007
Well, we managed to escape the fleshpots of Bundy. The
sailing has been pretty horrible as we came down Hervey Bay & the Great Sandy
Straits with a 15-20 knot head wind, necessitating long bouncy motorsails each
day.
We spent our first couple of nights on the West Coast of Fraser Island, just
above Moon Point, until the incessant roll became too annoying, then slogged our
way around the inside passage, dodging fish farms and fighting currents during
downpours to Kingfisher Bay in the Great Sandy Straits.
Kingfisher Bay was great - I'd recommend it to anyone as a holiday spot. They
have day visitor facilities for the use of yachties & well, day visitors,
complete with SHOWERS, rubbish disposal, water, swimming pool, bar, cafe and you
can use the resort store & restaurants. We decided to have a past-life
experience and went to the flash restaurant for a belated 50th birthday splurge
for Bruce. We managed to lose our appalling yachtie habits for the night (no
eating with fingers, plate licking, retrieving food from the floor etc) and
spruced up well in the on shore SHOWERS beforehand, so mingled undetected with
the well-heeled diners. The meal was fabulous - it was themed Australian bush
tucker, but that meant the food was just flavoured with local ingredients,
rather than witchetty grub bruschetta. We even had drinkable wine! The luxury!
There was a magic moment while we were have aperitifs on the restaurant deck
when a beautiful dingo appeared out of the dark and stood looking at us for a
few minutes, then disappeared off into the night. I had been wanting to see one
all down Fraser Island (yes, we were the boat anchored by the beach shouting
"Dingo! Dingo! Here dingo dingo dingo!"), so this was pretty special, as it
can't have been more than 10 feet away. With the dingo's reputation I wasn't
quite sure whether to run, scream or play dead, but the waiter said they were
very friendly and he often had them walk beside him on his way home at night.
The only drawback of the night was getting the dinghy down the beach at dead low
tide to go back to the boat. A handy hint for future travellers - park the
dinghy on the south side of the jetty as the beach stays firm there at low tide,
and doesn't deteriorate into knee-deep sucking mud, even if it is further away
from your boat. And take note of why there are 8 other dinghies on that side and
none on the north side when you go ashore. Doh!
The next day we headed off to navigate down the Great Sandy Straits, a
nerve-wracking operation. The Straits are the gap between Fraser Island and the
mainland, and the tide comes in from top and bottom, depositing bazillions of
tons of sand which form channels and sandbars down its length, some in the main
channel with less than a meter of water over them at low tide. As our keel is
1.6 meters deep, we have to wait for a bit of a tide. The channel is
well-buoyed, but has so many twists and turns that it is hard to tell which buoy
is the next one. We had the chartplotter on, zoomed right in, which makes
scary narrow channels look wide and stops me hyperventilating. It also has a
nice black line right down the middle of the channel, which we hugged like a
drunk hugs a telephone pole, and we got through without incident. We were
somewhat astounded at some of the other yachties we passed who had decided it
was a good idea to anchor in the narrowest, shallowest part of the channel for
lunch, forcing everyone else to go dangerously near sandbanks to avoid them, or
else decided to sail through forcing more deviations as you avoided them.
We are now in Pelican Bay (and yup, it is full of them) waiting for the right
tide/wind combination to head out over the Wide Bay Bar (if SE, not more than
5-10 knots, slack tide, less than 2 meters swell) and go south to Mooloolaba or
Brisbane, depending on the wind. If it every changes from the 20 knot SE wind we
have had for weeks. Sigh. At least it doesn't look as if we are going to get
smited by Cyclone Guba which has been hovering around at the top of Oz for a
while. While it is bad enough getting hit by a cyclone, imagine having to tell
everyone you were taken out by a cyclone called Goober!
26 November 2007
Well, we made it! We are now anchored off the Botanical Gardens in the CBD of Brisbane, and a very pleasant spot it is too, lots of birdlife (but there is a kookaburra that has got a definite shelf-life and we've only been here an hour!) and greenery, and moderately private. A bit of wash from passing ferries rolls us around but it is bearable so far.
← Trading palm trees for mirror glass Our new home in the Brisbane River.
The trip down from Pelican was pretty torturous - the bar crossing was fine, 14
boats in a row playing follow the leader, and not much wind so we motored most
of the way to Mooloolaba, and got in and anchored in the mooring area in the
canal housing complex about 5.00pm.
Next morning we decided we were too close to a catamaran
when the tide turned, so we up anchored and motored to find another spot. While
we were doing this, we had the stupidity to pass a starboard marker going up the
harbour to our starboard side (as the rules of navigation for this part of the
world require you to do) and went aground on a sandbank. Of course the tide was
dropping, and the attempts of some of the other cruisers to help us get off the
bank were futile, so we spent the rest of the day (10am to 5.30pm) lying on our
side at a 45' angle, Daemon giving the locals a brown-eye and us practicing our
mountaineering. We become a popular tourist attraction, and once the danger of
having to try to help us haul off was over, several locals came out to tell us
you needed to have a reservation to go aground there, it was so common. So, we
said, were we reading the navigation marks wrong and did we come in on the wrong
side of the mark? No, they said, it is shallow on both sides. So why have they
got a mark saying it is clear on the port side of the mark??? No-one knew!!!!!
Oh yah, we just careened her to clean the
prop.
Yeah, right.
The
next day we left to head down to Moreton Bay, the entrance to Brisbane, as it
was the last day of forecast favorable winds. The said winds were NE, so blew
straight into the Mooloolaba entrance, making lovely big rollers for us to try
to punch out into, and for surf boats heading in to the beach to surf down
beside us. Not fun. Then it rained. We then headed down through the channel to
Moreton Island, dodging all the container ships etc heading in the same channels
and anchored behind the Tangalooma wrecks, a whole bunch of old workboats sunk
across a sandbar to provide a shelter on the west side of the island. It
reminded me of Luganville in Vanuatu - the anchorage there was where boats went
to die. It was pretty enough so we spent an extra day there relaxing and
recovering from the previous day's sail. Bruce even had a rush of blood to the
head and decided he could snorkel in 26'C weather. He did, but it was brief and
he flashed the entire anchorage losing his togs trying to leap back into the
dinghy quickly. I'm still wrapped up warm, but becoming acclimatised gradually.
Tangalooma Wrecks
This morning we left Tangalooma and headed across Moreton Bay, trying to time
our arrival for the lower part of the tide when the big ships don't cross the
cut in the bar to enter/exit the harbour. We just made it, tearing down the
channel like a mad thing, and then had a leisurely cruise (ie: I unclenched my
teeth a little) down the Brisbane river to this anchorage. So, tomorrow we start
the job search. My criteria are: Good pay, can wear Crocs, allowed an afternoon
nap, but I may be a little flexible on that.
Well, elections have just come & gone, and the Aussies have now got a left-wing
government - interesting times. Not saying a word about why they chose top guys
called Kevin & Wayne, mate. And a sheila as deputy Prime Minister - strewth!
January 2008 Update
A belated Merry Xmas, Happy Chanukah and Happy New Year to you all! We are now well ensconced on the pile moorings in the Brisbane River and trying to get used to the working life. Bruce is helping build a catamaran and I have been working at Dymocks Bookshop in the city, but with the post-Xmas retail slowdown, my work hours have been cut right back, so next week I start a new job organising the delivery of flu vaccinations to a large proportion of Queensland's 60,000 teachers. Just up my alley - sitting on my arse, ordering people around and inflicting pain at the same time. Sweet!
We are having a permanent Westsail rendezvous with Rod Lawson and the unspeakably cute Cutty -dog on El Viajero, who is on the next-door pile mooring. Having the two Westies side by side gets lots of comments from other yachties.
A very Daemon Xmas to you all!
The pile moorings are great value, only $50 per week for the moorings & use of the jetty, laundry & showers, the only downside being the constant roll from the passing ferries between 6.00am & 10.00pm. The sense of community here is great, everyone looks out for each other and helps when needed. This sign says it all:
Actually, looking at the skipper/creature from the black engine room, I think the city folks should be the ones warned!
Our dinghy finally died in a horrible way - complete tube
collapse on the way in to the jetty. Rod was excellent and provided
jetty-to-boat taxi services until the chandlery opened and we could get an
interim dinghy. This is a tiny roll-up Silver Marine inflatable with a nasty
habit of skating all over the river if you get a bit of wind and tide. Not my
favourite beast. We decided to get our old dinghy refitted with new inflatable
tubes, as the aluminium floor was still perfectly sound, and we could get the
pair done, guaranteed for 5 years, with a canvas cover for 1/2 the price of a
new dinghy & cover, and we are very happy with the result, very flash! The
new outboard is planned for the weekend, all very exciting! Can we go cruising
now??? Damn, we need to eat as well, so back to work.
28 June 2008 Update
OK, we have movement at last! Today we cut the shackles at the Gardens Moorings and moved around to Manly where we will get the boat hauled and repaint her and get a few repairs done before we head off again. It feels really good to be on the move again - we've just about forgotten how to sail.
Brisbane has been a great place to live and work. Bruce enjoyed his companions at the boatyard even if the sanding & bogging nearly drove him insane. I ended up back at Dymocks, which I really enjoyed - bookselling is my true métier (and the fact that I could do the "bed to work" run in 15 minutes helped as well). I can't say enough about how great the sense of community on the river is - we expected a lonely summer but we have made heaps of new friends whom I will be sad to leave.
We have just spent 3 weeks in NZ catching up with friends and family, again we realise how blessed we are with them, there are some very special people back there who we miss greatly.
So another chapter ends - I'll keep you posted when I reach somewhere with internet that is fast enough to update the website. With a proposed itinerary for the next 10 months that includes the Banks & Torres Islands, the Solomon Islands, PNG, Palau and the Philippines, it may be a while!