In Seisia, while we were waiting for the winds to abate and
allow us to move around Cape York, we met some other cruisers who were heading
the same direction. One boat was owned
by an Australian couple; the other by a Japanese couple. They had been cruising together on and off
for 3 years and we joined them for the trip from Seisia to Cairns. Potlucking together was very pleasant – we
shared some of the fish we had caught and Yo, the crew member on the Japanese
boat, turned it into sushi.
Once, we left Lizard Island, the sailing conditions improved
dramatically – the seas were much flatter, since the Barrier Reef to seaward
broke up the waves, and the winds were light and more easterly, so we were able
to motorsail and make good progress all the way to Cairns. We stopped there for provisions and water,
and then it was another day to Townsville where Ken, the owner of the boat, and
John, a friend of his, joined us.
The plan from Townsville was to complete the importation
formalities in Townsville (the boat had been bought in Malaysia and had not yet
been formally ‘imported’ to Australia) and then to bring the boat to Brisbane
with the owner. Having sailed the boat
nonstop for 5 weeks, we had a lot of experience with the boat to share with the
owner. It only took a day to get the
paperwork done, which gave us a bit of time to do some sightseeing. Townsville is very picturesque, a very
boat-friendly place. After
reprovisioning and refueling, we pulled out of the marina headed south.
With the owner aboard, we could relax a bit about out
schedule and move at the pace that he wanted, rather than hurry to get the boat
to him. However, the wind was now the
deciding factor, as the prevailing SE winds can make it very uncomfortable to
move as fast as one might like. When the
winds were favorable, we motored through the night, and when the seas got
rough, we found a place to anchor up.
Our fourth day put from Townsville provided some memorable
moments. A front was forecast to roll
in, bringing higher winds and rain, and so we decided to anchor up in a large
bay about 400 miles north of Brisbane.
We had already taken two reefs in the sail and had entered the bay, a
long, somewhat narrow inlet with fringing reefs along each side and a
particularly nasty rock awash in mid channel.
We were about a mile from our anchor spot, just talking about taking
down the sail when the front hit us – HARD.
The winds went from 10 knots to 25, then 35, 45 and finally 49, in a matter of just
a few minutes, and the boat heeled hard to starboard. I was at the companionway watching our course
on the navigation computer below as I let the sail out to help the boat stand
back up. Then the wind veered, and I was
grinding back in to keep the sail from flogging. In and out, in and out, I worked the winch and John helped, him grinding it in when the wind veered and me
letting it out as the wind backed.
The rain was coming down in buckets and Bill’s glasses were
running with water – he said afterward he was essentially steering blind. Not that it mattered, because visibility had
dropped to absolute zero, so we could no longer see the rock. No-one could see anything except churning water. So, as I worked the sail, I was watching the
chartplotter below and giving course instructions to Bill at the helm – the
nasty rock was just a few hundred feet from his to leeward and we did not want
to blow down on it.
The formerly azure seas were whipped to a frothing mass of
steel grey that looked like something from the Perfect Storm. Spume was flying off the wave tops in sheets,
the bimini was ballooning like a big-tent spinnaker and water was coming
through the zipper teeth on the dodger.
Bill and Ken were trying to roll the bimini flap back in as it whipped out of their hands. I was aware that my knees were literally shaking, although,
interestingly enough, I just kept on
doing what I was doing – as we all were, since there was no alternative but to
keep the boat moving forward and keep the sails from flogging hard enough to
bring down the mast.
Finally, after what seemed like an hour (but was probably
only 20 minutes), we could see brightening all around, and we knew the cloud
must be passing. A few minutes later,
the seas began to settle, the boat got back on her feet and we got the hook
down. Whew! None of us had ever seen anything like that and
some serious debriefing was in order…after getting into dry clothes, having
some hot tea and fresh baked bread (the loaf I had made kept rising through the
event!), followed by a cold beer.
