[I've been sailing around the Whitsunday Islands for the past week, almost entirely without phone coverage.  This has prevented me from updating my posts.  I'm now in a marina berth at Airlie Beach, with time to finally get this blog up to date.  Here goes...]


23 June 

Hexham Island

From Hexham Island up to Mackay lie a series of Island groups, each within about 25 miles sailing of each other.  This gives us quite a choice of anchorages for the next week, before we’re due in Mackay for the cruise Rendezvous and for Spencer’s return to Sydney.  For the time being however we have another day on Hexham.  Breakfast today is eggs Benedict, a popular meal around here.

The day starts clear and sunny but significant cloud coverage develops soon after sunrise.  Spencer is intent on climbing to the top of the closest hill and to then make it out to the small islet attached to the main island by a drying isthmus.  I was more interested in just gathering some more photos of the island.

Looking back into the anchorage from Spencer's small islet

View from the hill overlooking the anchorage

Views of the beach

The clouds kept developing through the day and the afternoon gave us our first rain for the trip, at least during daylight hours.  We’ve previously had a couple of brief showers at night, which are actually quite useful for washing accumulated salt, sand and other general dirt from the decks and canvasses.  In any case, this shower gave us an excuse to retreat below for a bit.

The hardships of living with a brief tropical shower

22 June 

Pearl Bay to Hexham Island

The wind blew up last night, around 20-25 knots, making a racket.  The two other boats in the bay had left before sunrise.  I’m feeling a little nervous about lifting the anchor in these sorts of winds, but it comes up without any hassle.  Remarkably, the wind just outside the anchorage is at least 10 knots lighter than it is inside.  Don’t know why we didn’t just anchor “anywhere else”!

Tonight we have a choice of a few island groups just north of the Danger Area.  We select Hexham Island, about 35 miles north of Pearl Bay, largely based on the very positive comments it gets in the pilot book as to its beauty.

We motor sailed again today, this time with a poled out headsail rather than the spinnaker, until the wind dropped off even further and we were left with the engine pushing us along with the mainsail rather hopefully set almost close hauled, even though the true wind was behind us.  Most importantly, I guess, is that the tidal stream has been running with us every day, adding up to a knot to our speed.

Today is the winter solstice.  Technically the sun reached its most northerly point at about 2am AEST.  In northern America that’s recognised as the start of their summer, and correspondingly they’d treat is as the start of our southern winter.  I suppose there’d be no argument back in Sydney about winter having hit, but I think it’s been cancelled up here.

We reached Hexham Island just after 3pm.  It is like something out of a postcard from paradise.  The small gem of a sandy beach is framed each side by black rock formations: on one side the rock is broken up into vertical columns, on the other it is carved into a series of almost cathedral-like spires.  We have the entire island to ourselves.  In fact we haven’t seen another boat all day.  Spencer and I were left simply grinning at each other with this place.  With time now on our side we’ll spend two nights here.

We put the dinghy into the water and head ashore to have a quick look along the beach.  Then it's time to get back to the boat for dinner.

Approaching Hexham Island

A couple of early photos from ashore

 

21 June                

Great Keppel to Pearl Bay

We have a longish trip ahead of us today.  Tonight is the last night the Shoalwater area is open before the military exercises begin, and we’re heading for an overnight anchorage in Pearl Bay, right in the middle of the Danger Area.  First stop is a quick motor into Rosslyn Bay for some fuel.  We still have about half a tank left, plus the two 20 litre jerry cans, but it’s nice to have enough to not worry.  The stop also lets us dispose of our garbage and buy some more eggs which we stupidly under catered for during our big shop.

The Gypsy at the fueling wharf at Rosslyn Bay

Heading north, looking back at Rosslyn Bay

It was another reasonably light wind day, but the breeze was just strong enough from the south for us to put the spinnaker up for the first time this cruise. With engine assist we maintained about seven knots.  There’s not much more to report, all in all.  On top of the eight miles to Yepoon, we covered the further 45 miles to Pearl Bay without issue, rounding into the bay in the last light of day, just in time to make out the two other boats already anchored.  We let the anchor go in darkness, reliant on instruments to select a suitable spot.

20 June                

Great Keppel Island

We’re anchored on the northern side of Great Keppel Island, against a long expanse of sandy beach.  Great Keppel is blessed to have wonderful beaches around almost its entire perimeter.  I would have liked to have anchored on the western side, off the old resort, but stronger winds forecast for tomorrow suggest otherwise.

The anchorage at Great Keppel

Not a bad place for a few nights stay

Looking back from the bush track

I holidayed here back in about 1991.  It is something of a “lost” trip for me.  For some reason I took no photographs for its duration and I can only place it in time by trying to reference it against other events.  However my memories of it are clear.  The resort, which was very smart and considerably upgraded from the old “get wrecked” days, was shut down in 2008 with plans to build a mega complex.  Those plans are still circulating. 

Conditions are sunny and hot, and we’ll spend a second night here.  We head off for a walk across the island around mid morning.  The island seems to be crisscrossed by four wheel drive tracks, a legacy of the island having been occupied for many years.  Our track is easy to follow, up a hill and over onto the old resort side.  Along the way we come across abandoned and fenced off storage depots and other facilities, lending the whole island a derelict feeling.  The old resort is similarly fenced off.  However we find a section of fence that has fallen over.  In the absence of warning signs or a serviceable fence, how are we to know we shouldn’t go in and have a look around?

The main resort building still exists, but has been stripped and is quietly rotting away.  The accommodation blocks from the old “get wrecked” days still stand but the rooms are smashed and everything except the old beds have gone.  The newer accommodation blocks that I stayed in, which I remember as being very modern and pleasant, have been razed.  Only the concrete pads on which they stood still exist, complete with the floors of shower recesses being visible.  We found some decrepit old tennis courts, now a dumping ground for building refuse, and the old squash court building, with a folding billboard out front advertising archery activities for the long gone guests.

The main resort building with the accommodation block foundations in the foreground

Wrecked dining hall in the main building - I have many happy memories of this place

The overgrown squash courts

Perfect place for a holiday - the empty beach outside the deserted resort

Wandering around the ruined resort and along its stunning beach, now all empty, leaves me feeling quite sad for the loss of a place that was once so vibrant and happy.  Isn’t it a shame that good things are lost because of the dictates of modern financial economics.

By this stage everything we’ve seen of Great Keppel suggests abject decay.  However, walking up the beach a little way brings us to something completely unexpected – a hamburger joint that also sells beer and souvenirs.  This is like finding the bongo burger bar in the middle of the jungle in Captain Ron.  We hadn’t planned on having lunch, but we went in and couldn’t resist ordering burgers and beers.  The place, known as Tropical Vibes, is simply wonderful.  There are only a few people here and the vibe is laid back and relaxing.  Even the staff seem to spend most of their time sitting out on the garden benches, under the coconut palms, having a chat.  Seems like this is the cure for what we’d been feeling earlier.

Tropical Vibes - like an oasis in a desert

Great Keppel also has other low key accommodation just north of the old resort.  There’s a couple of small houses for rent, some smaller cabins and a camping ground.  They’re serviced by a casual restaurant, a pizza parlour and Tropical Vibe.  For a simple tropical holiday in a beautiful setting, this looks like quite a find.

[We've been out of phone signal range for a few days, thoroughly enjoying ourselves on some of the islands further off the coast.  We're currently anchored at Curlew Island and expect to be here for 2-3 days riding out some strong winds.  That should give me the opportunity to get my posts a little more up to date.  M]

19 June

Cape Capricorn to Great Keppel Island

Cape Capricorn is named for its location, less than two miles south of the Tropic of Capricorn.  From here on we’re literally in the tropics.

Today’s passage is a relatively easy 25 miles.  That means we don’t have to be on our way till around midday.  We have two goals for this morning – firstly to climb to the top of the Cape Capricorn headland, and then to dinghy around to a shallow anchorage, just around the corner from here, called Yellow Patch. 

We can see a small beach below the lighthouse, tucked away on our northern side of the Cape, and a path up to the top.  Once we get ashore the walk turns out to be easier than expected.  At the top we find a couple of houses, one permanently occupied by Bruce, who’s lived here for 17 years.  The other houses are available for rent.  Bruce is on the roof with a mate, doing some painting, and is very happy to chat and to talk about the local area.  The lighthouse itself has been simplified from its old days and now is a rather squat tower with a light simply sitting on top, without any form of enclosure. 

The views, of course, are gorgeous, both up and down the coast and back inland.

Spencer on the beach below Cape Capricorn

Me near the top of Cape Capricorn, with the Gypsy visible, riding at anchor

Spencer near the top of Cape Capricorn, with Hummocky Island in the background

Looking south from the Cape Capricorn lighthouse

The bay we’re anchored in is wide and very shallow.  Rather than dinghying over to Yellow Patch we decide to move the boat to get a little closer and then dinghy from there.  The entry to Yellow Patch, rather than being the difficult approach we were told, is surprisingly easy, even if we had brought the Gypsy in.  Once through the sandy channel the area opens up into a lovely little water hole, ringed with a sandy beach and dominated by a very high dune made up of the deep golden coloured sand that gives the spot its name.  Spencer tackles the sand dune while I stay at water level and fly the drone up there instead.

Looking over the water hole

The sand dune at Yellow Patch (with Spencer a speck near the top)

Views from the top of the sand dune

Driftwood on the beach

Looking north out of the Yellow Patch's entry channel

The passage to Great Keppel is done in almost windless conditions.  We have the main up but the bulk of the apparent wind is being generated by our own motion.  The afternoon is pure happiness.  Wind or no wind, this is truly idyllic boating.

Approaching Great Keppel Island

18 June

Pancake Creek to Cape Capricorn

We slept very soundly last night in this perfectly still anchorage.  Pancake creek really is quite delightful.  It has several pretty beaches along the stretch we can see, and the hills off in the distance provide a lovely backdrop.  I’m beginning to discover that you could happily spend an entire cruise just hovering around places like this.   There’s a strong current running under the boat as the tide floods the creek.  A school of fish appear to think the Gypsy is some type of huge, protective cousin, and are swimming along just behind our stern, trying to keep up with us in the current (although of course we’re still anchored and not moving relative to the ground).  All things considered, this place is worthy of a drone flight.

Flight over Pancake Creek Anchorage

We have a few days of straight motoring ahead of us in order to clear the Shoalwater area.  We’re targeting about 40 miles for each of the next two days and about 25 miles on the third day.  Winds are light from the south and are expected to stay that way.  The general weather conditions are just fantastic.  Temperatures are in the mid 20s, skies are clear and even at night we’re staying in t-shirt and shorts.

Today’s run takes us past the port of Gladstone and thence up to Cape Capricorn.  I don’t want to go into Gladstone, largely because I’ve been told that everything gets covered in coal dust there, but also because checking in with Harbour control and keeping out of the way of bulk ore carriers is a bit of a hassle.  As it is we pass close by a dozen or more huge ships waiting at anchor just outside the port. 

I think today’s highlight was the first launching of the drone while we were underway.  We’ve had plenty of practice catching the drone while we’ve been stationary, and the flat seas set things up as well as could be hoped.  The video came out pretty well, notwithstanding the five minutes of fear I endured trying to get the thing safely back onboard.  A good learning experience.

Gypsy Princess north of Gladstone, with Cape Capricorn ahead

Otherwise the day was pleasant and uneventful. 

I know nothing about the anchorage situated inside the northern lip of Cape Capricorn.  It looks tiny on the charts, and completely open to the sea.  However conditions will be benign tonight, so there’s nothing to be concerned about.  When we do anchor we can clearly see a path leading up to the Cape’s light and a number of small buildings on the peak overlooking the bay.  Looks like a good opportunity for a walk tomorrow.

Cape Capricorn, seen from the east - an imposing headland

17 June

Lady Musgrave Island to Pancake Creek

We probably would have liked to have stayed at Lady Musgrave Island for a further day or two.  Certainly the weather conditions are forecast to remain quite benign out here for at least several more days.  However I have a very hard deadline to meet.  About a week before I left Sydney the Australian military announced their intention of staging training activities around the Shoalwater Bay area, a little to the north of Rockhampton.  I’ll quote from the relevant Notice to Mariners issued at that time:

The Marine Danger Area will be closed for access from 0001 hours Sunday, 23 June 2019 to 2359 hours Saturday, 27 July 2019. All waters, creeks, beaches and other areas within the declared Marine Danger Area are not available for access throughout the above times. Pursuant to section 53 of the Defence Force Regulation 1952, any person or vessel found within the Marine Danger Area of the Gazetted Defence Practice Area commits an offence subject to 5 penalty units or imprisonment for 3 months, or both.

In the words of the immortal Colonel Blimp, “war starts at midnight”.

When traversing this stretch of coast, there are three key anchorages within the Danger Area that break what would otherwise be a 90 mile non-stop passage.  For most of us that would be a very long day with many hours of night sailing.  So, we really need to get to the north of the specified area by the evening of 22 June.  Spencer and I have scoped out a rough plan that will get us through just in time.  This plan requires us to leave Lady Musgrave and push on now.

We’re heading for Pancake Creek on the mainland, almost due west of us.  Winds this morning were almost 20 knots from the south west, so the day began with us sailing upwind with a double reefed main and the headsail half furled.  Even in the slightly lumpy seas the boat adopted a pretty smooth motion and the helm felt very nicely balanced.  By about the halfway point the wind and seas began to moderate and we cycled through having full sails up, to motor sailing and then to just motoring the final bit of the way.

Entering the anchorage requires us to follow a twisting channel through the outer reaches of the creek.  Once inside, the water was still and the sounds of birds were clearly audible from ashore.  The location consists of quite a broad expanse of water, ringed by a series of hills in the distance.  

Spencer cooking BBQ sausages for dinner

Another sunset

15 - 16 June

Lady Musgrave Island

[I realise I've been a little quiet on the posting front.  I've actually been spending most of my free time, as Spencer will attest, in processing and editing video material from Lady Musgrave.  I wanted to do justice to our visit, since we both had an extraordinary couple of days at that wonderful island.  I hope you enjoy the post.]

I first learnt of Lady Musgrave Island in 1986.  Way back then, still just 21 years old, I attended a series of lectures on cruising as part of preparations for my first bareboat charter to the Whitsunday Passage.  At the time, and ever since, Lady Musgrave has represented to me everything that this cruising dream is all about.  It's a stunning coral cay, an island built from the sea by coral polyps.  It is flat, covered by a treed canopy, ringed with a sandy beach and surrounded by a large coral lagoon.  Although it's in deep water 30 miles off the coast, the lagoon offers boats an anchorage in perfect, clear water only seven meters deep.  It is home to coral reefs, tropical fish and turtles.

Of all the Barrier Reef islands, only Lady Elliot is more southerly.  Lady Musgrave, then, is the welcomer, the island gem that gives a glimpse of what the passage north has in store for the cruising sailor.  This visit was one of the important milestones of the cruise.

The day started at around 3.45am, with the alarm getting the two of us up for the day's 50 mile passage.  We were out of Bundaberg Marina a few minutes after 4.  Coincidentally, one of Spencer's friends from last night, Trent, was heading out at the same time for a day's fishing at Lady Elliot Island.  There was little wind, so no chance for a sail.  Spencer went back to bed pretty much immediately after we cleared the river entrance.

The morning was notable for one outstanding event.  Around midday I decided to try one of the trolling lines I'd bought for the trip.  Having not caught a fish since I was about 10 years old, this was something of a novelty for me.  Within two minutes of the lure hitting the water we'd hooked a fish - a very healthy looking blue fin tuna.  Neither of us actually knew it was a blue fin tuna, since it didn't appear in our limited books on the subject.  However the internet came through with a confirmation.  I bled it, filleted it and had two fantastic pieces of fish meat in the fridge.

First catch of the cruise - a blue fin tuna

We reached the island soon after 2.30, slightly delayed by having to deal with the fish catch along the way.  Entry into the lagoon was straightforward, and there was in fact a mother and baby dolphin swimming around the boat as we made our approach.  Inside we saw a large turtle swim alongside.  Galadriel was already anchored close by, having come out 24 hours previously, and we were lucky to pick up a mooring for the evening.  Dinner tonight was fresh blue fin tuna fillet, tossed in flour, salt and pepper, lightly grilled on the BBQ and served with cous cous, lemon and salad, with a bottle of wine to complement.  Not a bad way to start a cruise.

Lady Musgrave Island from our anchorage inside the lagoon

Boom tent up for the first time - several other boats are also anchored here

We had all day Sunday in the lagoon.  First thing was a quick visit to Galadriel for a chat before they headed off.  Sonia told us about a large rock pool on the inside edge of the lagoon.  She'd swum there yesterday and found turtles and a reef shark.  All were apparently friendly.  Next stop was a trip into the island itself, for a walk around the beach and through its centre.  We found lots of small birds, black noddy terns, mostly nesting in the trees, but some lower down.  They evidently didn't identify us as a threat, because we could get right up next to them.

Spencer posing at the welcome sign to the island

A stretch of beach on Lady Musgrave

There are many pieces of old tree like this one scattered around the island

Me next to a black noddy

 

We took Sonia's advice and dinghied over to the rock pool she'd mentioned.  It was literally like a pool, separated from the rest of the lagoon by a wall of coral and with a clear, sandy bottom inside.  We left the dinghy anchored in deeper water outside, and probably spent an hour swimming there.  The water was much warmer than in the main lagoon because it was a relatively small, enclosed space being heated by the sun.  The fish were extraordinary, having so many species that I recognised from my marine aquarium days.  We found the turtle, and in the main it seemed to tolerate us swimming along with it.  Spencer saw a large groper sitting under a rock ledge.

A photo of the Gypsy's underside, showing winged keel, propeller shaft, rudder and swim ladder

Please view the following videos in full screen mode

Aerial views of Lady Musgrave lagoon and the Gypsy Princess

Video from our snorkel inside the lagoon

Swimming with the wildlife

All in all, this was another day to remember.  Dinner was again tuna fillet, this time also with a dash of gluten free soy sauce (my abject apologies to the owner of this sauce, but I couldn't help myself).

12 - 14 June

Bundaberg Rendezvous

My dear old DSLR camera died yesterday.  Isn't it amazing - I've spent years and loads of money preparing for a whole range of eventualities, but no-one ever told me I should prepare for a camera that has ceased to be.  Bundaberg has a camera shop and I caught the local bus for the 18 km trip in to town from the marina.  SLR cameras are not cheap, but we managed to find a good model for not too much cost.  Unfortunately, while the Bundaberg shop sells cameras it doesn't actually have cameras, so we order one from the Sydney warehouse.  It might not arrive in time for my departure on the weekend.  I dread the idea of having to use my little point and shoot backup camera.

On the same excursion I visit Jaycar to buy some bits to repair a misbehaving LED on the boat's main power control panel, then have to rush back to the marina in time to take the mainsail to the local sailmaker for some repairs.  It suffered a small tear in the luff, just near the second reefing point, presumably during the passage up the NSW coast.  The sailmaker proves to be excellent, pointing out to me several defects in the sail that my Sydney sailmakers blithely ignored when they had it in their loft recently.  He can repair these and I'm promised it will be ready to go by Friday.

The three days in port proved to be remarkably busy.  In addition to the above town visit, I took care of the laundry and then spent quite some time reorganising and rationalising all of the stowage on board.  I think I've over-packed shirts and towels, and the galley lockers are hoarding some entirely useless stuff.  I do what I can to fix this, and throw out a fair load of unnecessary things.  I realise this process will continue for several more weeks as the Gypsy and I gradually work through the practicalities of cruising life.

All the rendezvous crew except David and Sonia from Galadriel agreed to a group visit to the Distillery on Thursday.  While I personally find the local rum exceedingly rough, a visit is one of the key parts of any Bundaberg experience.  It did at least give me the chance to try some of their more bespoke rum expressions.  My only purchase was a bottle of smokey rum steak sauce - I'll stick with my scotch whiskies and the Sailor Jerry spiced rum already on board.

Distillery of the famous Bundaberg Rum 

Bundy R. Bear in the flesh

Class Act

The formal, or at least the official, rendezvous dinner was on Thursday evening at the marina restaurant.  Seven crews from 4 boats (I was solo after Gene's departure).

Friday morning saw the arrival of Spencer, my crew for the next leg to Mackay.  He has old uni friends who live in town, and the wife of one offered to drive us to the local shopping centre for our provisioning - $700 of food, meat and drink all successfully stowed.  One of Spencer's mates owns a craft beer brewery in town and five of us met there for dinner and some great beer.  I understand the four of them have not been together as a group for many years.  They clearly have long and very deep seated bonds, and I thought myself fortunate to have been invited to such a great night.

The Brewhouse occupies a wonderfully retasked former car garage - our group is sitting on the far left

Tomorrow we have a 4am start for the wonderful Lady Musgrave Island.  The mainsail is aboard, looking really very nice.  However my camera hasn't arrived, and will be forwarded on to the Mackay store, I hope. 

11 June

Platypus Bay to Bundaberg Rendezvous

I think I finally feel my cruise has begun for real.  Last night's anchorage was quite beautiful.  On one side of us the tall white sand dunes of Fraser Island sheltered us from the prevailing wind and on the other the flat waters of the Barrier reef extended all the way off to the horizon.  These are the waters I've waited so long to sail on my own boat, and the horizon is calling.  The only other boat we can see is the catamaran Kailani, another boat on the Alfreds cruise, anchored just 100 meters from us.

We headed off after a quick breakfast.  There seemed to be no-one stirring on Kailani.  For our part, we set both sails, switched on the Gypsy's autohelm and entered the heading for Bundaberg.  We maintained a pretty constant 7 knots, broad reaching in about 10-15 knots.  I brought the computer up on deck and used the time to write some posts for this blog.

It's probably as good a time as any to comment on the remarkable technology we have available to us as cruising sailors.  We had 45 miles to sail today.  I was able to simply point to a location on the GPS chartplotter's screen, a point that in reality was far over the horizon and which wouldn't come into physical view for many hours, and the boat's navigation system would take us there without any further involvement from us.  In past years we would have been required to take bearings off identifiable landmarks, transfer those measurements to paper charts to find our current location, then calculate the bearing to our destination.  We would have had to make estimates of the effects of tidal currents, and then monitor our progress with additional bearings, if we could actually see land along the way.  Now it's all done with 2 or 3 touches on a graphical screen, and after several hours sailing the destination comes up over the horizon precisely as expected.

The range of information we have constantly available to us on multiple graphical displays, all while steering, is extraordinary.  Not only that, I had my computer sitting on my lap, being charged with 240 volt AC power that we generate on board.  I'm connected to the internet via radio so I have access to a virtually unlimited range of information.  I can track other vessels using my AIS system and chat with people on my phone anywhere in the world, thanks to the mobile phone booster system I have installed.

All this capability removes a very large cause for worry that once existed for all cruising sailors.  Cruise management is becoming an executive function!

The sail was so smooth I eventually climbed on to the mid deck to do a bit of work cleaning up some old silicon sealant.  This was a great way to head into the first rendezvous.

It's a tough place to have to work.  Note the very comfortable boat speed and wind angle.  Also note the bag of superfood sitting beside me.

Entering Bundaberg Marina was uneventful, and we took the chance to fill up the diesel tanks.  Three other Alfreds boats are in Bundaberg - David and Sonia on Galadriel, David and Jenny on Kailani and Bill and Dianne on Seas the Moment.  We met for drinks at 4.30 and then had pizza dinner at the marina restaurant.  This is the final night Gene will be with me.  He flies home tomorrow.