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

2 – 3 September

Townsville to Cape Upstart then Gloucester Passage

It’s Spring.  Very clearly the weather is changing, with noticeably warmer temperatures and a different wind pattern.  I’ve returned to Townsville with John, a new crew to sail the boat back to the Whitsundays.  John is a fellow Club Member and boat owner, but has never undertaken such a long cruise as we’re doing now.

The process of provisioning has now become quite a fine art: review current inventories, check off against standard provisioning list, plan meals, update provisioning list, go shopping.  In fact this leg proved to be very simple because, being only one week in duration, it’s the shortest of the cruise so far and requires the least amount of purchasing and stowage.

As we found coming north, anchorages are scarce between the Whitsunday region and Townsville.  To get south as smartly as I can I’ve chosen to do two longish day sails - 70 miles from Townsville to Cape Upstart and then a further 50 miles to Gloucester Passage.  Both days have started with light south westerly winds and then strengthened and swung around to the east / northeast around lunch time.  Remarkably, this is the first time since I left Sydney in May that I’ve seen any wind in the north and it proves to be perfect timing for our southward passage.  I really don’t know how we came to be so lucky.  To cap it off, the water has been absolutely flat, skies have been cloudless and the temperatures have been high.  Once the wind settled in we had some magnificent sailing, reaching at well over 7 knots for hours at a time.

Not far south of Cape Upstart we saw a small pod of whales off our port side and I swung around to have a closer look.  We spent the next 15 or so minutes coasting along at 3 knots while the whales played on the surface, sometimes having to move out of their way when they started approaching closer than seemed prudent.

The three whales just off our starboard side

On a wholly different level, we also passed the Abbot Point coal loader, soon to be the exporting point for the Adani mine.

The Abbot Point coal loader, south of Cape Upstart

Notwithstanding the pleasures of sailing in this place in these conditions, I’ve found memories from the northwards cruise flooding in almost continuously, compelling comparison, prompted by seeing so many now familiar places.  There is a very great difference in character between that leg and what I’m doing now.  Only a month ago, seeing Gloucester Passage, Cape Bowling Green, Magnetic Island, so many other happy experiences and places, all for the first time and with a sense of looking forward to discovery, gave a feeling of freedom and excitement.  In comparison, this leg feels more like an assignment – get the boat south!  Heading homewards also brings reality, the gritty Sydney reality, squarely to the front of my thinking throughout the day.