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.

10 June

Kingfisher Bay to Platypus Bay

I think Gene and I were both in a bit of a celebratory mood last night, after having had such a great day.  So, it seemed appropriate that we retrieve the two pieces of fillet steak that had been in the freezer since Southport.  They were grilled on the BBQ with copious amount of Worcestershire sauce, then served with Bearnaise sauce and salad, washed down with some 2012 Pieter van Gent Cab Sav that I happened to have on board (along with several dozen other bottles carefully stashed).  It was a grand meal.

This morning dawned as lovely as the last few.  Tourist activity started to pick up at the resort with the arrival of the first of the transport ferries.  There were a small number of other boats anchored nearby, since this is one of the key anchorages on the inside route up the Great Sandy Strait.  This morning we would leave the strait and travel up into Harvey Bay.

Calm in Kingfisher Bay - a boat anchored nearby in the early morning sun

 A few visitors on board

We still have one more day before we're due at the Bundaberg Marina for the end of this leg of the cruise.  Some time ago I'd heard of Platypus Bay, a very large, gracefully curving bay on the north western side of Fraser Island.  It's mouth is roughly 22 miles wide, stretching from one horizon right around to the the other, with a single white sand beach that runs for over 27 miles.  As we discovered when we logged on to Marine Rescue radio, you don't simply advise your intention of going to Platypus Bay - you have to specify which part you're headed for along its huge length.

The passage was simple.  We motored up the remaining part of the Strait, then crossed the last of the shallows and sailed 13 miles to our anchorage. 

Approaching the end of the Great Sandy Strait - motoring along the coast of Fraser Island with Harvey Bay ahead

A stretch of beach along Platypus Bay

Another Club boat, Kailani, was coincidentally heading for the same spot and coming up behind us.  We ended up heading over for drinks once we'd anchored, the first of the cruise so far.  This will be the final night for the delivery leg of the cruise.  Tomorrow we'll sail the final 45 mile straight line course across Harvey Bay to Bundaberg.

My arty picture of the dinghy, finally allowed off the Gypsy's foredeck, sitting on Fraser Island at Platypus Bay with the flat waters of the Barrier Reef in the background.  This will be our playground for the next few months.

9 June

[As I write this it's 9.30 on Tuesday 11th June.  We're 2-sail reaching across Harvey Bay from last night's anchorage at Platypus Bay, on Fraser Island.  Our destination, some time early to mid afternoon, is Bundaberg for the first Rendevous and change of crew.  Conditions are stunning and have been for a couple of days.  We're finally in cruising mode - wearing t-shirt and shorts, the boat happily steering herself, Billy Joel singing Piano Man from the cockpit speakers and I'm sitting in the cockpit, tapping away on the computer and watching the spectacle of the horizon on a perfectly smooth sea.  Just thought I'd say.]

Today dawned perfectly.  Garry's anchorage provided it's usual calm night's sleep and the bad weather of yesterday has disappeared.  There are around 10 boats here, I assume most are on their own trips either north or southwards.  We've seen our first turtles here.  They seem quite relaxed, often sticking their heads out of the water for multiple breaths of air before disappearing again.

Garry's anchorage, looking back to the southwest

We intend to keep heading north today.  This will involve crossing the Sheridan Flats at Boonlye Point, an area of shifting sands that should be crossed at high tide.  Since we draw only 1.6 meters we should have no problem.  However, high tide isn't until 2.30 and it's a bit over an hour's motoring away, so we have a spare morning.

My new mobile phone signal booster hasn't been working, and a conversation with the distributor's technical team last week suggested the external aerial was maybe installed in the wrong location.  We have very low signal strength at Garry's, so it was a perfect opportunity to do a re-install and see if that fixed the problem.  Two hours of work had the aerial installed in a new position, we fired up the booster and both our phones got an extra 2 bars of signal strength.  Very happy!  The booster is going to come in very handy in many of the places we're going, primarily for weather forecasts but also for updating this log.

Motoring up the Great Sandy Strait was just delightful.  We have Fraser Island to our right and the mainland to our left.  The Strait itself is extremely broad, two to three miles across for much of its length.  However it's very shallow with shoals and small islands throughout.  The navigable channel is narrow and we follow the pink line on the chart plotter with particular care.  I've realised that this entire coast, from Southport as far up as here is one massive range of sand dunes.  Of course, Fraser is also the largest sand island in the world, with a length of about 70 miles (that's nautical miles, or 125 km).  After the last week and a half of delivery up the coast and over the Bar, I've finally made the transition to full blown cruising.

Finding the movable port channel mark S24 at Sheridan Flats was easy on the flat water and in full sun, and from there our destination at Kingfisher Bay was about three hours of very pleasant motor sailing.

Tomorrow we break out into Harvey Bay and the waters of the Barrier Reef.

Lots of people worry about crossing the shallows at "S24" - it was a doddle for us

A very happy grotty yachty

Travelling up the Great Sandy Strait - clear sky and flat water

Another cruiser anchored under the lee of White Cliffs on Fraser Island

Every sunset special - anchored at Kingfisher Bay

8 June

This is going to be a short post.

The day started early.  Phone alarms went off at 2:45 and by 3:10 we were out of the marina.  We settled into a quiet routine almost immediately outside of the river entrance - running deep with only the mainsail up and doing over six knots, the boat steered itself for Double Island Point on route to the Wide Bay Bar.  Before very long the clouds came in and the rest of the day was grey and wet.

The weather forecast predicted the seas would moderate during the day to under 1 meter, pretty good for crossing the Bar.  Looking back, I think they did actually began to moderate but then started to build again.  By the time we got to the Bar about four boats had crossed safely enough.  We were the last to go, exactly on time for slack water at high tide.  Half way across I looked back and saw an enormous, rolling rogue wave coming up behind us, breaking at its top and dwarfing the boat.  Right to the very moment before it hit I thought it was going to swamp us.  However, at the last instant the Gypsy lifted her stern over its top and I don't think we took a drop of water on board.  Not that that was it.  We broached badly, spinning around to the right with the massive force of the water that hit us and rolling heavily down the back side of the wave.  We got ourselves back onto the proper track, shaken but otherwise ok.

The remainder of the crossing was lumpy but uneventful.  A further couple of hours motoring up to Garry's Anchorage was completed in possibly a greater grey gloom than we'd seen before, pretty much mirroring my feelings at the time.

I really don't know how serious the incident was at the Bar, but I'm hugely thankful to the folks at Catalina that they designed and built such a sound boat as the Gypsy.  I think she earned her pay today.

7 June

Tangalooma to Mooloolaba

Had a very broken sleep last night.  To begin with, since the beach was so close to leeward of us, I set three different anchor alarms - two phone apps and one on the boat's chart plotter.  All these systems essentially just track our GPS position and, should we move outside a specified radius, they light up a noise like it's World War 3.  I'm pretty confident with my anchor's ability to hold us in most conditions, but I was also conscious that waves were breaking on a beach only 50 meters downwind of us.  If we dragged, we'd be on the beach within minutes.  Of course, the tide turned during the night and took us outside my set radius (which, given it's me, was set pretty conservatively), and it was World War 3.  In addition, as the tide was then ebbing, it pointed the boat's stern into the oncoming waves, which proceeded to slap mercilessly against the hull only a few inches from where I was sleeping.  I woke about 11pm, and counted the minutes until the tide turned again so the bow was pointed back into the waves.

In any case, we woke about 7am and decided it was an excellent time to leave.  Tangalooma is a handy place to spend the night but I think it's not a great anchorage in the SSE conditions we experienced.

There's a bit of fiddly navigation involved to avoid the shipping lanes coming out of Brisbane's port but we were out into clear water soon enough for the 35 mile passage to Mooloolaba.  As we'd experienced for almost the entire trip, we had both the wind and current behind us for a pretty easy sail.  What stuck me most strongly was the contrast between the flat water, clear sunshine and easy conditions of today, on the inside passage, with the hard slog that I'd experienced on both my previous passages north of Brisbane out to seaward of Moreton Island.  The approach we'd adopted for this trip lent it such a different complexion to those other trips and is one I'd very happily try again.

Rain had been forecast for today, and it finally hit just as we were approaching Mooloolaba.  It continued on and off during our final approach but we made our way through the harbour walls and to the marina without issue.  It had been a nice day's sailing.

Tomorrow was going to be a 55 mile stretch, with a hard deadline of 12:15 to cross the Wide Bay Bar at high tide.  We'd be leaving at 3am, so we had a pleasant meal at the Moom asian cuisine restaurant, about a 20 minute walk away, and got to bed early.