22 September

Brampton Island to Double Island

Today was to be a reasonably long leg – 49 miles heading almost directly into the prevailing wind.  There aren’t many island anchorages along this stretch, and even fewer that can cope with both easterly and sou-easterly winds that we’re being subjected to now.  Double Island is listed in the cruising guides as being suitable, in spite of the fact that it looks on the charts to be just an exposed pair of rocks in the ocean.  It’s obviously such a little used anchorage that even the radio operator at Whitsunday Coast Guard appeared to have not heard of it.  I admit to feeling some trepidation in my decision to continue out there. 

It was an early start from Brampton Island, to take advantage of a couple of hours of relative calm before the 10-15 knots of headwind was forecast to come in.  We put the trolling lines out, and hooked an undersize, 50cm spotted mackerel, which went back into the water.  Shortly afterwards I managed to hook something completely different – a big, 110cm spanish mackerel.  It probably cost us half an hour as we slowed the boat down to get it on board, fillet it and clean everything up.  But we ended up with eight big steaks from it, each enough for a meal for two people.  We rearranged the freezer and somehow managed to stuff most of it in there.  I really doubt this is relevant, but I was wearing the same shirt as when I caught the tuna a few months ago on our first day out of Bundaberg.  Spooky, huh?

This could be the biggest fish I ever catch!

The rest of the trip was quiet.  We were both pretty tired at the end of the day, but the anchorage looks quite good and it is certainly attractive.  We’re at the northern end of the larger of the two islands that make up Double Island, with a pretty little beach surrounded by rock walls extending out into the water.  The second, much smaller island is separated from the first by a narrow channel that is barred by a coral reef, so providing protection from the worst of the swell that we can see just outside.

Starting to look like the Old Man of the Sea?

Double Island sunset

Of course, we had fish for dinner tonight, cooked in butter and soy sauce.  A great meal.

21 September

Cid Harbour to Brampton Island

There’s no foreseeable sign of any northerly winds, but the 10-15 knot east/sou-easterly winds we’re getting aren’t too awful.  It means we have to motor sail, with just the main up, pinching up as far into the wind as we can get while still getting useful drive out of the sail.  We managed to get 40 miles under our belt, over a long day.  The 1,000 miles from Airlie Beach to Newport seems like a long way (‘cause it is a long way), but every day like today nibbles away at it.

It ended up being a bit of an uneventful slog, with some excellent sailing thrown in at various points along the way.  We reached Brampton Island shortly before sunset and were quickly settled.  Having waypoints marked on the chartplotter at each point I’ve previously dropped the anchor is proving to be of immense value.  At places and times like this I can simply come straight to the same, or at least a similar, point and drop again without having to spend many minutes checking the bottom contours.

One minor regret I have is not being able to visit Thomas Island.  This had been something of an ideal for me through all the planning for this cruise.  It had come somehow to embody the idea of reaching the Whitsundays.  Of course, I did get the anchor down at Thomas on the way north, but the 8 Riviera motor cruisers occupying the small anchorage put a quick end to that.  So, a visit to Thomas Island remains on the list of things to do some time in the future.

20 September

Airlie Beach to Cid Harbour

Viv arrived in town yesterday, a refugee from the horrible weather Sydney has been having recently.  Up here it’s warm, sunny and beautiful.  The afternoon was spent in the usual final arrangements – provisioning, stowing and getting prepared for the coming couple of weeks living on a boat.

This morning started early for me – awake at 4.30 so that I could get an engine service done.  The last one took over six hours and left me exhausted, but the many advantages of doing the work in the Airlie Beach marina outweighed all the misgivings I had.  So, I began pumping oil out of the engine on the dot of 5am, and had two fuel filters, an oil filter, a raw water pump impellor and engine and gear box oil all replaced before 9.  Next time should be faster (hah! next time I think I’ll ask a mechanic to do it, and not give myself such a workout).  Disposing of the old oil, filters, rags and assorted garbage rounded out the job.  Next was a walk into town to pick up some shirts, then a top up of the water and fuel tanks, and we were out of the marina by 12.30.  I guess I was already exhausted, and a trip to Sorrentos Bar on the marina would have probably been more attractive if anyone had asked me.

The Coral Sea Marina fuel wharf

My original plans of making a solid southward jump on the first day clearly didn’t materialise.  Instead we made a very straightforward crossing to Cid Harbour for what would be my final night in the Whitsunday Passage on this cruise.  I was able to drop the anchor on precisely the same spot I’ve used so many previous times on this cruise.  I’ve visited here with David and Anne, Celeste, John, Mike and Susan and now Viv.  So, a nice way to end my wonderful time in the Whitsundays in 2019, finally feeling I’ve become part of the place I fell in love with 33 years ago.

This guy swam past us, less than a metre off our stern

16 September

Long Island to Airlie Beach

We started the day with a 3km walk around the northern end of the island.  In spite of all the signs on the beach warning us against trespassing on the resort grounds, the end of the walk brought us straight back through its buildings.  We didn’t feel at all bad about looking around.

The resort's old jetty, damaged and torn loose by Debbie - now just scrap metal?

Amazing to continue to see abandoned infrastructure

The resort is actually quite attractive

The final stretch back to Airlie was a downwind motor sail.  I know the end of a holiday is filled with lots of mixed feelings.  However the final sight of the Whitsunday Passage as we made the turn inside Pioneer Rock was so perfect today I’m happy that Mike and Susan have had the very best send off I could have given them.

We’ve covered 85 miles over the last week.  The Whitsundays have had their best face on for almost the entire time.  I’ve enjoyed the week cruising back in the islands and am so happy I could have Mike and Susan here enjoying it with me.

15 September

Haslewood Island to Long Island

Another lovely morning today.  Since that last day on Hamilton Island, when it was gusting at close to 40 knots, the weather has been essentially Whitsundays perfect. 

This week has disappeared in the blink of an eye.  Tomorrow we head back to Airlie Beach for the end of another leg.  For the final night I wanted to find an anchorage closer to port, and that gave me a chance I’d been looking for to return to Long Island.  This is another place I haven’t visited in over 20 years – I guess it’s not one of those iconic Whitsundays locations.  It was once a key stop for bareboaters in the days when all the charter companies were based nearby in Shute Harbour.  The island also hosted a popular under-35s resort that went by many names during the time I knew it – Whitsunday 100, Club Crocodile, Con Tiki, Long Island.  Of course it’s closed now.  My guess is that a resort that caters to increasingly more budget markets eventually runs out of enough cash to renew its infrastructure and simply dies in a downwards revenue spiral.

We were presented with the opportunity of sailing from the outer, most eastern anchorage to one of the innermost islands, with the apparent wind largely on our beam, in flat water and under a clear sky.  I’d been hoping for such conditions especially to give Mike a great sail.  We took the long, eastern way around Haslewood and then south of Hamilton Island to minimise the time the engine was running, and took around five hours to cover the 25 miles involved. 

I’ll mention here a sight that provided another sad indication of the level of skill of some bareboaters (bear in mind I didn’t say all bareboaters).  When we came around Haslewood we could just make out what appeared to be the stern of a large catamaran, many miles ahead of us.  We were doing maybe 6 knots in 10-12 knots of true wind, but we seemed to be coming up very quickly on the cat.  In the course of traversing the southern shore of Whitsunday Island we caught, passed and left it miles in our wake, until we could hardly see it.  They simply didn’t know the most basic principles of sail.  Our sails were trimmed for a very easy beam reach while theirs were hard on.  Maybe they thought sheets are like a throttle – the more they’re wound on the faster you go.  Even the sight of us surging past them didn’t seem to make them think something was wrong.  There’ll be many people who accuse me of being rude and picky but it’s tragic that, like so much else, attention to the skills of seamanship are so readily dismissed simply to get guests out onto boats and to collect their money.  In a broader assessment, I’d argue this is a foundational cause of what one of the Hammo staff described to me as the not uncommon occurrence of bareboats being put up onto reefs. 

OK, in the words of Forrest Gump, that’s all I have to say about that (hope I never end up on a reef now!)

We let go the anchor, snugged well up into the surrounding reef in Happy Bay, and Mike and I went ashore to have a quick look around the shuttered resort.  Dinner tonight was a BBQ accompanied by a sparkling shiraz and, for the first time I think on the entire cruise, we ate dinner up on deck.

14 September

Whitehaven Beach to Haslewood Island

We had only a short 3 miles to travel today, so we made the most of the available opportunity here before we left, possibly the last opportunity I have to visit Whitehaven Beach on this cruise.  By good luck we found that the new Whitehaven lookout has just recently opened.  We’d seen the lookout itself, quite high above the southern end of the beach, back in late July on a previous leg of the cruise.  I’d walked to the old lookout twice on the cruise but this new lookout will probably supersede it, simply because of its elevated position and clear views both north and south.  As the following photos show pretty convincingly, it’s going to become popular, and the path up to it has been built to be smooth and wide to suit.

Views from the new Whitehaven Lookout over Whitehaven Beach and a small bay to the left on the south of Whitsunday Island

A good looking mug shot

Looking back westwards, towards Hamilton Island and the mainland in the background

Solway Passage on a calm day

We had one last swim and enjoyed some time in the sun before finally heading back to the boat and readying to leave. 

Haslewood Island is directly adjacent to Whitehaven Beach, and provides the southern barrier to the large anchorage technically referred to as “Whitehaven”.  Mike was keen to go there, as it was one of the anchorages he visited when he bareboated here in 1980.  I also visited it in 1986 and haven't been back since, so was very happy to travel the short distance out there.  In the event we were rewarded pretty handsomely.  The anchorage in Windy Bay (it wasn't windy today) was very pretty, and to me was reminiscent of the smugglers' bays along the Cornish coast.  On top of that, there was only one other yacht in the bay, with Stuart and Dee aboard, plus what looked like a tiny prawn trawler using the bay as a daytime refuge before going out again to do its work.

Gypsy Princess in Windy Bay in the last light of the day

We went ashore to look for a walking track over to the island's southern shore, from where we thought we could explore the extensive fringing reef.  We didn't find the track, and suspect it's been allowed to be absorbed back into the general bush.  Instead we saw some stingrays and a small reef shark swimming in the shallow water.

Stuart and Dee invited us over for return drinks, and so we spent the remaining couple of hours until the very last light of day on board Katana.

Stuart, Dee and Susan on Katana

Sunset over Whitsunday Island

It's pretty close to being a full moon tonight.  Sitting on deck after dinner we could look back and see the full expanse of Whitehaven Beach.  In the moonlight the beach literally glowed white and was unmistakable even at our distance of over 3 miles away.  That's something that I think no one could possibly photograph, given the very low light levels involved, but it was extraordinary to see.

13 September

Butterfly Bay to Whitehaven

Mid tide is at 1pm today, and therefore a perfect time for us to visit the Hill Inlet lookout at the northern end of Whitehaven Beach.  As we’d done last time, we anchored off Betty’s Beach in 3m of water, in what has to be one of the most picturesque anchorages one can find anywhere.  The pathway up to the lookout, which isn’t particularly high, has had a considerable amount of construction work completed since our last visit, and it’s clearly now ready for lots of traffic.  Is this a sign of what further is to happen to this area?

I’ve previously posted at length about this place, so I won’t do so again now.  Suffice to say that coming back here for repeat viewings doesn’t seem to diminish its effect.

Mike overlooking the wonder of Hill Inlet

Mike and Susan

Remarkably, we’re the only boat anchored off Betty’s, and everyone else continues to mindlessly follow the herd by mooring around in Tongue Bay where the swell intrudes and the coral and rock reef prevents a landing except in the top half of the tide.  The result is that we can swim off and enjoy what must be one of the most remarkable and beautiful beaches in the world with not another soul in view, and with our boat anchored only a few meters outside the small waves breaking on the shore.

Gypsy Princess the sole vessel anchored off Betty's Beach, with her dinghy sitting on the beach

Back on the beach, looking out at the boat

From the same spot, looking northwards to Border Island

Hundreds of small crabs were the only other occupants on the beach, all busily going somewhere

We lifted the anchor just after 4pm and made the short way down to the other end of Whitehaven Beach for the night.  I made Piña Coladas, to which I played my calypso steel drum music for the occasion, before switching to Rachmaninov for sunset. We had Nachos for dinner and watched Captain Ron.  Another wonderful day at Whitehaven Beach.

Two views from our Whitehaven Beach anchorage at sunset

12 September

Macona Inlet to Butterfly Bay

I think the boat is getting to know her own way around this place.  We plan some new destinations later in the week, but for now it’s very much repeating the same track I’ve followed before.  No complaints from me – I’m learning more than I’ve ever known about the character of each place I visit.

Mike had the helm for much of the enjoyable downwind sail up the west coast of Hook Island to Butterfly Bay.   The wind was generally around 20 knots from the southeast, and we kept up a good pace under just the headsail. 

The character of this end of the Whitsundays is noticeably different from inside the Passage.  In this case “different” does not denote “better”.  Being on the outside of the island chain, the coastline here could be described as being more rugged, and the rock formations more weather-beaten.  Small beaches seem to fill every small bay and are of a much whiter sand than is seen on the inside of the islands.  There is an eye catching contrast between the sandy beaches, deep blue water, the white of the waves crashing on the rocks and the dark green of the bush leading right down to the water’s edge.

Rounding the north west corner of Hook Island, near Hayman Island

We were lucky again to find an empty mooring towards the inner end of the bay.  This is pretty important for a smooth night, because there is almost always some residual swell coming around the corner if you’re moored closer to the bay’s mouth.  Stuart and Dee are here also, on the favoured innermost mooring. 

We snorkelled along the stretch of reef I’d previously found to be good, near the inner moorings, but I think the recent heavy winds and partial cloud cover made visibility less than ideal.  Stuart and Dee came over for drinks around 4pm for really a lovely way to end the day.

A remedy for the super strong onions we get here.  The third in a string of  photos going back to 1986 and 1988 showing David and me doing exactly the same thing.

11 September

Cid Harbour to Macona Inlet

Some work colleagues of mine, Stuart and Dearbhla, were in Cid Harbour this morning, having just set out from Airlie on a bareboat cat.  I dinghied over for a quick visit, during which they traded a chunk of freshly caught yellow fin tuna for some soy sauce that they needed.  A good deal for us, and provided us sushi entrée for tonight.

It was a short but well worn path for the Gypsy up to Macona Inlet.  The boat’s chart plotter record of her track through the Whitsunday islands is starting to look like a mass of overlapping scribbles on a map.  The level of familiarity this is bringing is proving to be of considerable comfort, especially when it comes to choosing exactly where to drop the anchor.  Very often I find I can go back to the precise GPS coordinates at I’ve previously anchored, since I record every anchor drop with a waypoint fixed on the chart plotter.

I wrote only a few days ago about the strong sense of fellowship that exists amongst cruising sailors.  That was reinforced further today.  The owner of one of the five yachts anchored in our bay, Warwick from Bamboozled, did the rounds in his dinghy to invite everyone to the beach for sundowners.  What followed was a delightful afternoon and evening of conversation and camaraderie with people I’d never met but might as well have known for years.  Mike and Susan I think enjoyed this every bit as much as me, and Mike has since commented to me that he sees that this cruising culture essentially produces instant friendships.

10 September

Hamilton Island to Cid Harbour

John flew home yesterday.  He was with me for a week, and it was a very satisfying and enjoyable leg of the cruise.  We sailed 170 miles together, including three great days from Townsville down to the Whitsundays, and then a couple of very pleasant, relaxing days with other Alfreds boats sitting at anchor.

Only about a month now before I’m due home.  The last three and a half months seem to have gone by so quickly, and yet when I think through all the places we’ve visited, the people we’ve met and the experiences we’ve had, I realise how much I've made of the time I've had.

I went for a 2.3km run this morning, around the Hammo harbour foreshore then up and over the hill overlooking the bay and around near the airport.  This recent burst of activity, including my rowing jaunts, could best be described as being out of character.  They’re certainly not a walk in the park, but the physical exertion, followed by a swim/shower and some quality food is feeling pretty good.  I hope this doesn’t prove to be transitory, although I realise that living on a boat can be rather limiting when it comes to decent physical activity.

When David and Anne sailed with me from Mackay to Airlie Beach two months ago we hatched the idea for David’s father and sister, Mike and Susan, to join me this week.  I’ve known them all since my school days, and will always owe Mike my very deepest thanks for reintroducing me to sailing years ago when he took me out on his Flying 11.  It was that experience as a teenager that prompted me a few weeks later to begin crewing on a Tasar down at Northbridge Sailing Club, the first leg on a voyage that has led to a lifetime in this wonderful sport and, ultimately, to this cruise.

I met Mike and Susan at the Hammo airport in one of the island's ubiquitous golf buggies.  By useful coincidence, gale force winds gusting up to 38 knots hit today while I was safely ensconced in the marina.  More manageable winds were forecast for later this afternoon, so I used the available time to give my crew a tour around the island and then do the shopping.  We were out of the harbour by 4pm and into Cid Harbour before dark for a very calm night.  

Mike and Sue on Catseye Beach

One Tree Hill, with The Whitsunday Passage as a backdrop

8 September

Whitehaven to Hamilton Island

The wind came up from the south overnight, reaching up to around 15 knots in Whitehaven.  There were only a few boats remaining here overnight, which says something about boating culture up here.  I was quite happy with our approach of coming in here late yesterday and picking up just the tail end of the sloppy conditions.  I had lots of chain out so I wasn’t going to drag or do any damage to the boat or its ground tackle.  It wasn’t a still night but it was most acceptable.  I’d rather have been here than be exposed to the fresh southerly wind and seas on one of the south facing anchorages overnight, as many other boats chose to be (probably getting stronger winds and certainly much bigger seas than we got).

I wanted to be ready for a potentially early start for Hammo today, so we stowed the dinghy on deck last night.  Unfortunately that meant no rowing today.  Instead we enjoyed a slow start to the day, which is also good. 

I brought out the photo album from my 1980s bareboating trips to try to compare the old Whitehaven with today.  Two things struck me.  Firstly, I’m convinced the beach is now a shadow of what it was, and that massive amounts of sand erosion still persist from Cyclone Debbie.  Secondly, that Whitehaven Beach is a world class tourist location with world class numbers of tourists to go with it.  My photos from 1987 show just a tiny handful of boats anchored off the beach, and only a few people on it.  Now, boats pack the anchorage, and day trippers are shipped out in their hundreds by jet cat from Hammo and Airlie, and by seaplane and helicopter from Qualia and Hayman.  The beach still has a special, magical quality to it early in the morning or at sunset, when the wind and seas are calm and all is silent, but at other times it’s tragic to see what we’ve done to its beauty.

Paradise?

The sail across to Hamilton Island was in 15-20 knot winds and some lumpy seas.  Having the headsail up made the trip pretty comfortable, and conditions moderated significantly once we got into Dent Passage and entered the Harbour.  The most interesting thing to note here was a large bareboat that had run itself onto one of the reefs in Fitzalan Passage.  The winds would have made this a fatal mistake, but I understand the fault was entirely with the charterer in hitting the reef in the first place.

This is a reminder to never be complacent when navigating a yacht

Our marina berth was right next to the Hammo Yacht Club - here's a crude night shot of the club from the cockpit

7 September

Turtle Bay to Whitehaven Beach, via Chance Bay

Odd conditions today!

The day started typically enough – no wind, glassy, warm, perfect.  I took the dinghy out before sun up for what was going to be a short row but ended up being another 2 hour excursion.  This time I rowed out of Turtle Bay completely and went around to explore the surrounding area.  It’s a real thrill to be able to get to only a metre off the rocks, here they rose vertically out of the water to 30 odd meters then being topped by pine trees.  Saw a couple of turtles bobbing around, or maybe one turtle a couple of times.  

I’ve found that if I position myself to row with maximum power (with feet planted on the transom and with the rowlocks pretty much abeam of me) the stern digs in and drags, and if I sit with my weight further forward the boat feels and sounds more lively but my oar strokes become wussy.  Prefer the powerful, draggy strokes.

Back at the boat by 8 for another swim and fresh water shower and then breakfast.  I think I like this routine very much.  Sitting on deck afterwards I realised it was this ability to simply jump off the boat and go rowing, or swimming, or sailing, or bush walking, or just staring at the scenery at any time that I’ll miss when I get home.  Being stuck in suburbia and the daily grind doesn’t seem like much of a lifestyle in comparison.  I guess we do it just out of habit.

Such a gorgeous view looking south out of Turtle Bay

Leaving thew Turtle Bay anchorage

Pentecost Island.  I've always thought it was a majestic sight, and likened it to a Cathedral in its shape.  But then someone told me it looks like the profile of a gorilla's face, lying on its back, and now I can't avoid seeing it as such!

This was when the fun began.  The weather forecast for the rest of today and the first 12 hours of tomorrow has north easterly sea breezes building to 15-20 knots till early evening tonight, and then shifting to the west and dropping, before going south and strengthening again to 20 knots pre-dawn tomorrow.  It’s pretty uncommon for the wind to turn around so dramatically overnight.  We need an anchorage tonight that can cope with everything from strong nor-eastlies to strong southerlies, and there aren’t many around like that.  Nara Inlet will do, but it’s in the north and we’re due in Hammo tomorrow for a crew change.  I don’t want to go north and then spend hours in the morning bashing back into a southerly from Nara to Hammo. 

I rather enjoyed listening in to the Bareboat radio channels and hearing so many people radioing in essentially asking “Where the hell should I go?” and to have the bareboat companies not really having good answers.  

Of our group, Nirvana’s Kitchen is going to Nara, and then they’re due in Airlie tomorrow.  That’s a good plan.  I don’t know where the others are going.  I decided to head for Whitehaven, but when we got there at midday the nor-easter had built up substantial seas and the anchorage was a real washing machine.  In spite of that, the bareboat companies were still advising their boats to go there.  We retreated back to the south (leeward side) of Whitsunday Island and just went sailing for 90 minutes in flat water and then dropped the anchor in Chance Bay to wait for a couple more hours.  We headed back to Whitehaven before sunset, at which time the conditions were messy but bearable.  By sunset the wind had died away and by midnight the seas were just gently rolly. Our evening passed pretty comfortably.

6 September

Turtle Bay

I've been preoccupied with things recently and not allowed myself to enjoy the simple pleasures that living on a boat can bring in a place as perfect as this.  I woke this morning intent on taking a different tack.  I put on a brand new shirt, never worn, and before the sun had made an appearance over the hills, I set out on a hard, two hour row in the dinghy.  Funny that I can’t run for even half an hour to save myself, but I could keep up a solid pace rowing for the whole two hours.  I guess it’s the same muscles I use sailing a boat.  Two hours of listening to the sound of my breathing and of the boat surging through the water, and just concentrating on making each stroke the same as the last.  The shirt came off after about 15 minutes, but then I’ve been told that having tanned limbs and a white torso isn’t de rigueur, so maybe going topless for a while will be ok.   

I saw plenty of fish and a reef shark, and got up and over a fringing reef in one of the small inlets off the bay.  Having got back to the boat I had a quick swim and a shower, made breakfast, and felt wonderful.

The weather today is just a repeat of what we’ve seen over the past few days.  Turtle Bay looks stunning.  We’re ringed by at least five sandy beaches along the shore immediately to our north and, to the south, we look out on Pentecost Island and all the southern islands of the Whitsundays.  There was no reason to move, so we didn’t.  I fell asleep on one of the cockpit seats, the first time that’s happened all cruise.  It’s therapeutic to have nothing to do (now that this blog is finally up to date!).

Nirvana’s Kitchen and three other Club boats came into the anchorage this afternoon.  It’s lovely to see them again.  Drinks were arranged on the beach at 4, where we also met the man who created the Shag Islet Cruising Yacht Club and a whole lot of other “Shaggers” members who happened to be in the bay.  It’s finally become apparent to me what the cruising fraternity really means.  We’re part of a very large group of people who love visiting places like this on their boats, and who treat each other essentially as their extended family.  Coming together on the beach for an impromptu drinks and social get together was like meeting up with old friends you haven’t seen for a long time.  Almost all were Shaggers members.  It was a great way to end a wonderful, quiet, restorative day.

5 September

Macona Inlet to Turtle Bay

Today was quiet.  We had a relaxed start to the day, leaving Macona Inlet well after 9am.  The weather has certainly shifted into a new pattern.  Hot, sunny and still are the key words to describe the conditions.  Prevailing winds look like being in the north for the next few days.  That changes all of the anchorages that are available and, to be blunt, there are far fewer secure anchorages for northerly winds than for south easterly trades.  

I thought it quite safe to leave Macona and motor down to Turtle Bay, on the southern shore of Whitsunday Island, leaving the boom tent up the whole way.  The wind stayed away and the seas were as glassy as yesterday.  It was a quite uneventful trip down and a very quiet afternoon.  I spent an hour or two attending to emails and text messages, of which there were many.

It looks like we're anchored, but we're actually doing over 6 knots down the Whitsunday Passage on a perfectly calm sea

4 September

Gloucester Passage to the Whitsunday Islands

Our stay at Gloucester Passage a month ago, on the northwards leg, coincided with a bit of a mixed bag weather-wise.  We had a perfect day when we walked around to Hideaway Bay but also a couple of days with strong winds and overcast skies.  In contrast, today dawned absolutely still with a cloudless sky.  It was low tide just after sun up, and we were sitting (quite happily) in 2.7 meters of water.  The water was so clear we were able to see the bottom with perfect ease and follow the anchor chain as it meandered up to the anchor.  It was also hot.  We’ve always had warm weather up here during the day, but today the sun is actually vicious in its intensity.  

We haven’t been ashore but certainly the wonderful memories of my last visit were enough to want to capture one last set of photos.  I also made a point of watching the sun set last night, one last time (for now).

Looking towards Montes Resort on Cape Gloucester.  It was a gorgeous, still morning.

On the other side of the passage, Gloucester Island

I was remiss in not previously referring to the Shag Islet Cruising Yacht Club (SICYC).  As I've had it told to me, the Club was created some time ago by a yachtie who was rejected for membership at some other club on the basis he wasn't already a Vice Commodore of a yacht club.  He turned around and formed the SICYC and made himself Vice Commodore.  Shag Islet is a tiny lump of rock in the Gloucester Passage.  In fact, that's not even its real name but everyone calls it that because of the birds (shags) that are there.  Lifetime membership is open to everyone for a once only fee.  As their website states, "we're exclusively non-exclusive".  The Club now has over 6,700 members in over 17 nations, more than most, maybe any, other yacht club.  All members are Vice Commodores, and all have the same membership number - 0010.  Member rendezvous are held every year and are a focus for serious fund raising work.  The Club burgee can be seen flying on many cruising boats up here, including quite a few of the Alfreds cruising fleet.

Shag Islet

The trip from Gloucester Passage to the Whitsundays is relatively short.  In fact I consider Gloucester Island to be the northern boundary of the Whitsunday region.  I’ve said in my posts over the last few days that the seas have been flat.  Today they were glassy, and the boat almost glided across them under engine power. 

The Whitsundays remain a very special place.  Certainly they’re busy, with many commercial boats and bareboats floating around even in a non-school holiday period like now.  But they have a unique beauty that reminded me today of why I fell in love with them so many years ago.  It’s nice to be back for another couple of weeks.

Some of the many Whitsunday islands

Nirvana’s Kitchen and some other Club boats are down here already, heading for Whitehaven.  We’ll probably catch up with them tomorrow, somewhere.  

Today we’ve put in to Macona Inlet for a restful afternoon and to allow me to finally get this blog up to date!!!  John and I dinghied in to one of the many very pretty beaches shortly after arriving.  The beach happened to be occupied by one of the power boaters also anchored in here.  He'd  set up a very pleasant camp involving beach chair, esky full of beers and a large beach umbrella to keep himself covered from the sun.  He needed that - 'cause other than a hat and glasses he had absolutely nothing else on to cover him.  We had a good chat with him anyway, about cruising in general and this area specifically.  On the way back to the boat, John commented that he'd been hoping the guy didn't stand up!  No pictures for this one – you’ll just have to use your imagination.

Crew work on Gypsy Princess.  Before dinner each day the crew is required to scrub the decks, from the transom step to the bow roller.  Every Sunday the mast has to be polished.

Me starting to look a bit like a local I think