15 - 18 November

The Passage Home

Friday morning started early with me leaving home at 4.30 for the train to Sydney airport.  My job today was to get to the boat early and get her prepared for departure this evening.  My brother Stuart and old sailing friend Mark will be arriving around 6pm.  Before then I'll be doing a food shop at the nearby Australia Fair shopping centre, filling water and fuel tanks, buying a bit of extra safety gear, settling my accounts with the marina and stowing everything ready for sea.

It's been about six weeks since I left the boat and returned to Sydney.  Being back feels wonderful, really like returning Home, and I'm looking forward to three days back out at sea.  The weather forecast is reasonably benign for now, although there's the possibility of something unpleasant blowing up down the NSW coast.  No matter, just the usual process of keeping an eye on things and adjusting plans accordingly.  We have many choices if we need to hide from the weather, including pulling in at Yamba, Coffs Harbour, Port Macquarie or Port Stephens.

I was kept busy all day.  With the onset of dusk and with Mark and Stuart on their way from Coolangatta airport, the last job for me was to buy our take away dinner from the Thai restaurant at the head of the marina.  

We were away at about 8pm.  The weather conditions over the following 24 hours established the pattern for the entire trip south.  Overnight saw light nor'westerlies - sometimes strong enough to push us along under sail alone but most of the time requiring the engine to maintain a decent 6 knots.  Saturday and Sunday mornings, around 10am, brought mild southerly squalls that initially had us put a reef into the main and then motorsail quite comfortably into the moderate southerly seas.  Other than the almost constant engine noise it was an easy cruise and we settled into an easy routine.

Stuart and Mark showing how easy it is

One thing deserving of note related to the fact that NSW was in the early grips of its catastrophic 2019/20 bushfire season.  Saturday morning saw us about 15 miles off Yamba.  When I came up on deck, even at that distance, I saw that we were surrounded by thick smoke.  Visibility was down to 100 metres and the taste of smoke in my mouth was palpable.  Obviously this was the result of the westerly winds we'd had overnight, but it also showed just how bad the fires were.  Since visibility was so poor, my mind immediately turned to the risk of hitting something.  This risk began to dissipate shortly after as the winds started turning back around to the south.

I've already noted the wind patterns we saw this last homeward passage.  What was most pleasing to confirm was that, while the Gypsy doesn't really like sailing upwind in any sort of waves, she was quite happy and comfortable motorsailing in those same conditions with the genoa furled, pointing about 30-40 degrees off the wind.

With the very strong southerly front being forecast for the weekend, there was initially doubt as to whether we'd make it even as far as Coffs, but that concern soon lifted.  By Saturday evening it was looking like it would hit us Sunday morning.  So, we altered our course to head inshore for Port Macquarie as fast as reasonably possible, where we'd ride out the winds for a few hours before continuing south later that day.  It's worth noting that I'd stayed well offshore up to this point, looking for a boost from the southerly current off Australia's east coast.  In reality, it didn't seem to be doing much for us, but it was still disappointing to have to abandon that advantage to head for port.

By around 3am Sunday the outlook changed again, and it now looked like the front was still another 12 or more hours away.  The prospect of having to negotiate Port Macquarie's bar, simply to sit out most of the day, now became unattractive.  We changed plans again to head for Broughton Island, just off Port Stephens, where I thought we'd be safe. 

Our brief Broughton Island stoppover

We reached Broughton Island by mid afternoon, returning to what had been the first of Gypsy's anchorages on this cruise way back in May.  This time it was planned as a refuge from the coming storm.  However as the clock ticked on, and the BoM continued to insist that we should be in the middle of a 30+ knot southerly, actual conditions never deviated from the mild weather evident in these photos.  This nevertheless proved to be a welcome break for us all.  The chance to relax at anchor for a few hours, to rest, cook and enjoy a nice hot meal after two days continually on the go was great.  It was clear that there was no storm coming at us and that the remainder of the trip would be a routine trip down the coast.  We emptied the two jerry cans of diesel fuel into the boat's tank, cleaned everything away and set out for the last leg.

The passage from Broughton Island to Pittwater is an unremarkable one.  Yachts make that trip every day without much effort.  It was therefore a quiet and unassuming way to return home after such an extraordinary odyssey.  We cleared Barrenjoey Point at 10.30 am, signing off from Marine Rescue radio for the very last time, and bringing Gypsy Princess into her pen at the RPAYC marina an hour later.  18 November 2019.

The last sunrise from amongst so many

Barrenjoey Point - the watchkeeper of Pittwater

The entrance to Pittwater, Home and the end of  the cruise

Looking aft as we enter Pittwater - the Barrier Reef is out and to the left

7 October

Mooloolaba to Southport

At dinner last night, Leon suggested that Alan sail with me to Southport.  Sailing solo, I hadn’t considered doing the 88 mile trip outside Moreton Island, simply because of the distance and long day involved.  However, he was happy to come along and going two up made the whole idea very attractive, particularly since the forecast 20+ knot northerly winds would make for a fast trip.

We left the marina at 5.30, another early start for another long day.  For the first time I rounded Cape Moreton in daylight, and decided it’s not as bad as I’d imagined on my previous night time transits.  The passage down the coast was fast.  With winds up to about 23 knots from the north east and a current that helped with at least a knot all day, we averaged 8.5 knots with the headsail poled out, and made the Southport Seaway by 4pm.  I owe both Alan and Leon my thanks for helping me get to Southport so much earlier than expected.

This will be my last post for a while.  I’m flying home to Sydney this week and will be back at work next Monday.  The boat will stay here in Southport for a few more weeks until weather conditions make it attractive for a quick delivery down the NSW coast.  I'll spend a couple of days here tidying the boat up and preparing myself for the transition back to a different, new life.  

By a remarkable coincidence, Gypsy Princess is berthed next to another Catalina 400, hull number 236 – Pole Dancer.  They make a great looking pair.

Gypsy Princess and her sister yacht, Pole Dancer, in Southport together

My adventure is all but ended.  I’ll write a proper ending to this blog when the Gypsy is safely back in her own pen at the Alfreds, hopefully next month.  Until then, safe travels.

6 October

Great Sandy Strait to Mooloolaba

Weather conditions for this morning were forecast to be quite calm, and there was minimal tidal flow.  So, Nirvana’s Kitchen, Mix’d Nutz and I planned leaving the anchorage shortly after 6am to cross the Wide Bay Bar and head 60 miles south to Mooloolaba.  The other three boats decided they’re too far away to make the same crossing, and were unhappy in any case with today's forecast of mild south easterly winds, so are staying put.

I set my phone’s alarm for 5.30am but was screwed by technology that isn’t as smart as it thinks it is.  It turns out that daylight saving started today in NSW.  My dear phone, thinking it’s a NSW resident, dutifully set itself forward the required hour and woke me at 5.30 NSW time – 4.30 Queensland time.  I woke still feeling tired and wondering somewhere in the back of my head why it was so dark outside.  This confusion was made worse when I saw the clock on the saloon bulkhead telling me it was 4.30.  After a few more seconds the explanation came to me, but by then I was dressed and wide awake (though tired).  As a final insult, the phone obviously figured out it wasn’t in NSW during the course of the morning and reset its time to Queensland Standard.

After all this, I lifted my anchor 30 minutes early, along with the others, and we made our way out across the bar.  This was a far more relaxed crossing than the hair raiser I experienced coming north back in June.  We had an early sou-west wind that carried us out to Double Island Point and then the forecast sou-easter and flat seas made for a rather enjoyable motor sail down to Mooloolaba. 

We made the harbour entrance by 3pm.  For dinner we walked down the road for a thai-ish restaurant where we met up with some other Club members who now live in Mooloolaba, Sue and Alan who own the 46 foot Beneteau Super Tramp.  

Tomorrow I’ll be heading for Southport, Mix’d Nutz will begin making its way south to Moreton Bay and Leon will await the arrival of a friend of his to deliver Nirvana’s Kitchen back to Pittwater.  We’re all going our separate ways and so, for me, this marks the end of the Club’s cruise.  A very poignant moment.

5 October

Bundaberg to Elbow Point, Great Sandy Strait

I intend to sail solo to Southport, although I’ll have the other boats as company as far south as Mooloolaba.  My plan comprises a series of day hops: firstly from Bundaberg to the protection of the Great Sandy Strait, a day spent travelling the Straits, then a day at sea to Mooloolaba, then to Moreton Bay, then a couple of days through the inland waterway to Southport.  All up I expect to take six days to make the trip. 

All six Club boats had agreed to leave Bundaberg this morning at 6am – sunrise – and sail the 55 miles to Fraser Island in company.  I’d like to record the kindness expressed by all the other crews in offering me any assistance they could give, including with my mooring lines and by sticking close by down the coast.  After all these months together it feels like we’re family, and I couldn’t be more appreciative.

Since the Gypsy is slightly slower than Nirvana’s Kitchen and the three cats, I left the marina soon after 5.30 with the intention of not letting those other boats get too far ahead throughout the day, or of causing them to slow down to keep pace with me.  In the event, the trip was deep downwind, which suits us more than any of the others, and no-one caught us. 

The waters of the Great Barrier Reef have been my home for the past four months.  I’ve sailed, swum, rowed and gazed on them and they’ve never been anything less than stunningly beautiful (well, maybe there were a couple of days when they weren’t so kind, but I’ll allow them that).  It was with real sadness that I left them today. 

With wind and current pushing us along we averaged 7.5 knots all day.  Before midday Leon contacted all the boats to discuss pushing on further than planned, initially to Garry’s Anchorage and then, later, all the way to the bottom of the Straits.  Gypsy Princess, Nirvana’s Kitchen and Mix’d Nutz were the lead boats with the others a few miles back.  I was happy to do extra miles since it gave me the possibility of getting to Southport a day earlier.  So, I drove the boat harder, motor sailing under the headsail and riding the incoming tide.  We went through the shallow waters at Sheridan Flats right on high tide, and had the benefit of riding the falling tide on the other side, so keeping the speed well up.

I made Elbow Point at the southern end of Fraser Island just before 4.30pm, pretty tired but happy and satisfied after doing 80 miles.  It was a good day’s motor sailing in perfect conditions.  Nirvana’s Kitchen and Mix’d Nutz are here with me but the other three boats are a couple of hours back up the Straits in Garry’s Anchorage.

1 – 4 October

Bundaberg

Completely unplanned and unexpectedly, I’m in Bundaberg for the final Rendezvous of this cruise.  We’re in company with five other Club boats – Nirvana’s Kitchen, Heaven’s Gate, Seas the Moment, Mix’d Nutz and Wisky Business.  The mood amongst the group is decidedly set on getting home to Pittwater, and we’re all looking for the weather window that will let us make the next jump south to Mooloolaba or Southport.  

The highlight of the stay was the Rendezvous function itself which started at the Kalki Moon Rum and Gin distillery before heading off for a café lunch.  Kalki Moon began when the former master distiller at Bundaberg Rum, Rick Prosser, decided to strike out and begin his own rum distillery.  To generate cash flow while his rum production sat maturing, he began making gin which has a very fast production cycle.  His gin has won a series of awards here and overseas and his first rum is due to come out of the barrels next year.  His output is small, coming out of a tiny copper pot still and with bottling done manually.  However he appears to be dedicated to quality, and everything we tasted was superb - very different from the mass production and exaggerated claims made by his competition down the road.  I hope he succeeds. 

We surprised everyone with the amount of fun we had during the morning’s tour and tastings.  Leon handed Rick a signed Gin Pennant which is now hopefully hanging somewhere on the premises.

An unsavoury bunch of itinerants - Leon, Jim, Greg and Bill waiting for a pickup from the car rental agency

The Kalki Moon Distillery with owner Rick and his mother - the epitome of a small, family-owned startup business.  Their entire two year production of rum can be seen maturing in the barrels stacked against the wall.

The Final Rendezvous - Gypsy Princess, Heaven's Gate, Mix'd Nutz, Nirvana's Kitchen, Seas the Moment and Wisky Business, with Rick Prosser and his Mum

Vivienne has headed home after two weeks with me.  We’ve covered 385 miles together over a very busy 11 days on the water – the furthest any of my crews have done.  We only allowed ourselves one double night stay, at Middle Percy, and had several 12 hour days to get through the miles.  In the process we’ve also had some fantastic days of fast sailing.  It’s been a very satisfying and enjoyable time.

Vivienne's farewell from Bundaberg

30 September

Pancake Creek to Bundaberg

We lifted the anchor at 6am to make the 65 mile run down to Bundaberg.  This is the southern most stop for us in the Great Barrier Reef, and it feels to me to mark the end of the cruise, in the same way as it marked the beginning of the cruising part of my adventure on the way north. 

We’ve been making use of a favourable weather window for the past few days, providing us with 10-15 knot northerly winds for a fast and very pleasant sail down the coast.  We’ve known for a while that southerlies are forecast to return tomorrow, as do the dozen other cruising boats all making their way to Bundaberg today. 

I used this one last opportunity to put the spinnaker up, which we held until the wind built up to the high teens.  Dolphins returned in large numbers, and stayed for over half an hour (which wasn't quite long enough for me to figure out and fix the problem my Go Pro camera was having with its memory card).  

I finally managed this one shot of a dolphin with my SLR camera

The boat broached under auto helm just as I went forward to drop the spinnaker, providing another lesson – never trust the autohelm with the spinnaker up in 20 knots.  All in all, today was a lovely day’s sail. 

Speed was up on expectations again and we found ourselves entering the marina early, right on a low tide of 0.1 meters.  That appeared to be inadequate even for the Gypsy’s shallow draft, with the result that multiple depth alarms started going off as I entered the marina fairway.  That’s a perfect way to break one’s concentration.  To kill an hour and let the tide rise a bit we went for a mini cruise up the Burnett River before finally putting the boat into its pen.  The alarms still went off but this time I was ready for them and I knew we’d be ok.

Winds will be strong from the south until Friday or Saturday.  Bundaberg Port Marina will be our home until then.

29 September

Gladstone to Pancake Creek

There are precious few anchorages between Gladstone and Bundaberg that can cater to a northerly wind.  We chose to use Pancake Creek tonight, an anchorage I’m familiar with from our trip north.  The rest of the cruising fleet have remained at Great Keppel for the last few days, and faced a 67 mile stretch today to get to the same destination as us.  We of course were much further south and had only a 30 mile leg, after a visit to the Gladstone marina for a fuel stop.  

Gypsy Princess at the Gladstone Harbour fuel wharf

If you're in any doubt, here's what Australia's prosperity looks like

With almost 3 knots of favourable current down the shipping channel and a good north easterly breeze we were doing 9-10 knots and made a very quick trip of it.  That meant we got to the entrance of Pancake Creek much earlier than planned, just before a very low tide.  With wind against tide the entrance to the creek was like a cauldron, and I only went in after another boat went first and called the depths to me as he went.  We anchored just inside, in a patch of deep water, and waited for the tide to rise a little before I went into the shallower and more protected part of the anchorage.  We were settled by sunset and had a surprisingly quiet night of it.  The only sound was the dull hum of the wind and that of the current running past the hull.  For us, it was a still night.  

Nirvana’s Kitchen and Seas the Moment both anchored in the creek’s outer pond, lacking any real protection from the northerly swell.  They both suffered appalling rolling.  Leon has since described it to me as being the worst anchorage of his entire life, forcing him (amongst other things) to put towels in his cupboards to prevent his crockery from breaking.  Seas the Moment dragged its anchor and at midnight they decided to quit the anchorage completely and make the passage to Bundaberg overnight.