Pearl Bay, Keppel Islands and getting lost.

Leaving Hunter Island behind we sailed south to Pearl Bay, choosing it as a safe anchorage overnight. The winds blew from the east. It is well protected, and we'll certainly call in here for a visit next year. It is a beautiful place and we shared it with six other yachts.

By 06.05 am we had raised the anchor and motored out of the bay. Within minutes the bay was totally empty. Everyone else had the same idea, an early start to head south. We wanted to reach Keppel Island by mid afternoon. It is 50nm away (approx 92kms). We like to sail, and the main was raised in preparation.

On our route south we needed to pass well clear of the active 'military exclusion zone' of the Broad Sound and Shoalwater Bay. Two helicopters constantly circled above us for well over an hour, as the live "war games" were being conducted.

It looked like an annoying mosquito from where we were.

I'm not sure of what was happening in the "out of bounds" zone, but we watched numerous fires burn through the undergrowth and down to the beach. In this huge uninhibited area no homes were in danger, unlike those in NSW at present.

Numerous fires along the coast.

After 6 hours of sail-assisted motoring the wind finally picked up. We were smiling from ear to ear. This is what gives a sailor a high. It is a most exhilarating feeling being able to slice through the waves under sail alone. It's not the speed that counts but rather the motion of the yacht through the water. It just feels right to move so gracefully with the wind.

We did hit 8 knots (14.5km per hr) at one stage but the camera person was a too slow.

Breaking the sound barrier.

Keppel Island

We settled into Long Beach at Keppel Island for a cosy evening. We now had internet and phone coverage. A change in the weather and a strong wind warning had been issued for the next day. We knew that we would have to move Sea Trek III around to the other side of the island in daylight hours.

We were both awake well before 5.30am and treated ourselves to a fresh spring sunrise as we relocated.

Dawn at Keppel Island: great.

Keppel Island used to be called "Great Keppel Island", and was a popular tourist resort some years back. It's another crumbling resort that provides limited services to yachties: basic items, including ice creams. Also scattered about the island are simple lodges in the style of Eco-tourism.

As usual we went exploring ashore and we find that we need to get off the yacht and walk as often as possible. It's amazing how quickly deconditioning of muscles occurs, and then normal walking becomes an effort. We certainly weren't expecting the Astro Turf to be rolled out for Glenn's arrival.

Roll out the green carpet.

I just had to try out this empty hammock: post card in a tropical setting.

"Not leaving here, ever".

The fabled "Mooring Ball tree" bearing fruit.

The water here is exceptionally clear, and we followed a stream into the large mangrove swamp behind the sand dunes. Rumour has it that a saltwater croc lives here. On closer inspection we saw a familiar yacht tied up in the mangroves. A really high tide would be required to set her afloat again.

'Prosper' not going anywhere in a hurry.

On our second day at Keppel we decided to venture away from the beaches. We needed to do some strenuous exercise. The signage for the various tracks was old, weathered or broken.

"We can't get lost here Jen, it's an island" said Glenn. Hmmmm I thought. ( I hoped that the gremlins were not listening).

We started heading along a likely looking track that wound upwards, and then got steeper and higher. Basically it became a mountain, and I wondered why we were being so energetic in the middle of the day. Thirsty and hungry and hot and unfit and breathless. The horror of being middle aged and overweight. Much much later we reached a lookout. The views were spectacular, but we were nowhere near the old resort, and broken roads lead out in several directions.

Sea Trek III is way way over there somewhere.

A couple of back packing guys passed us and suggested a route for us to follow. Their English was very poor and we all smiled at each other a lot. We basically headed away from them.

Many side trails were overgrown and increased our uncertainty. We needed to go back down to sea level to steer a better course. And so we slid and tripped on our bums down an embankment on the side of the mountain. Not a pretty sight. We reached low scrub and grass lands and just kept walking. We were really exhausted and already we had been stumbling about for more than three hours. It was then that I noticed an intensity of blue in the sky, a clarity without haze. For a reason that I can't explain I knew that this was the clarity of the sky over clear water, and that the main resort beach was " this way".

After another half an hour we reached the crumbly holiday resort. And would you believe it, there were people just sitting around under a tropical pavilion happily drinking icy cold beers, and ordering meals from THE RESTURANT.! No one had told us that the old resort was still serviced day trippers and casual holiday makers. Chocolate ice cream for me, and hot chips with tomato sauce and a beer for Glenn. Thank goodness I kept my laundromat coin collection in the base of the day pack.

Unexpected outdoor seating.

The delightful woman behind the counter told us the easy way to get back to our bay, and needless to say it was a flat stroll along two beaches, and a few low headlands. Short and direct.

Faded fun from other summers.

The weather looks favourable and with Promised NE winds and we will be sailing again tomorrow.

The back of Glenn's head again, a spontaneous pose as we rounded the last rocky headland and back to ST3.

 

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Jen, You're a lunatic, but Glenn, you are the luckiest bloke in Australia.

Rosslyn Bay: Keppel Bay Marina. We are in the tropical waters now and are getting used to the extremes of high and low tides. This ramp was level when we went shopping. That's Glenn at the bottom of the ramp.

The down-hill run in life.

We only meant to stay at Keppel Bay for a day or two. The electrical fire and repairs changed all of that. Strong winds have pinned us here for eight days now! The great thing about our trip is that there really isn't any plan. We can just go with the flow. Luckily for us our prolonged stay (and potential boredom) was eased by the discovery of the Capricorn Cruising Yacht Club. The club house is really an old portable workers shack with verandas, umbrellas and atmosphere galore. While we were there it was abuzz with friends, old and new swapping stories. (As a matter of fact we needed to stay in tonight to have a rest). A big highlight for Glenn was the Friday night special: Steak BBQ and dessert for $10 dollars. (Homemade fruit trifle and two scoops of ice cream). The German beers were a give-a-way at $2.50 each.

What? Sundowners again!!!!!!(another great "selfie" of Glenn)

Sundowners is a yachtie' tradition. Cruising yachties are generally anchored and relaxing by sunset. When in a marina they tend to seek out a common area to exchange "whale tales" and nautical advise. There is always much discussion about the up coming weather. The veranda of the CCYC became our base. The group organised a BBQ and music as a farewell event prior to the predicted weather improvement. (wrong again!). 'Bravado' with Steve and Ines from Melbourne;......'Ocean Child' from Tasmania has been called home by Dennis and Jenny for 6 years now;......catamaran 'Simba' is solo sailed by Ray from Wollongong and heading south;...... 'Windsong' has completed the "Hamilton races week" and is heading south to Melbourne with John and Jimmy wearing their team polos;..... 'Ceol Mor' with Stephanie and Duncan (Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra members) and their neighbour John, all from Kettering in Tasmania; two other catamarans that keep crossing our path are 'Tribal' and 'Plum Loco', and finally ..... 'Roger Ram Jet', a catarmaran built by Stevo and heading south to Mooloolaba with his crew Mal.

Stevo just happens to be Glenn's long lost friend from his Mooloolaba Garage Band days. They were a bit rusty together but their guitars really added atmosphere to the lively gathering.

Musician scraping off the rust.

Overlooking the marina.

What do yachties do in daylight hours while waiting for unfavourable weather to pass? Maintenance of course. Glenn often sprouts that "Cruising is just boat repair in exotic locations " . However by the look of the people we meet it is also a good way to stay fit and flexible....yoga anyone?

The easy style of catamaran repairs.

Our elderly and ambitious marina neighbour.

Rosslyn Bay is well serviced by buses travelling into Yeppoon shopping area. It is all very convenient, economical and well used. Why was Bundaberg so awkward? Lots of cruisers there missed the last bus run at mid afternoon and had to pay a taxi fare of $48 to return. Today we travelled in comfort (ie: someone else navigating the bus) to Emu Park to visit "The Singing Ship". This is a musical sculpture set on a small cliff looking out to sea. Utilising the ever-present sea breezes, it hums when air flows through the pipes and strings. Different speeds create different notes. Glenn was not impressed, partly because he couldn't sing along but also because he had just been swooped by a nesting plover protecting it's eggs. (I warned him).

Coastal harmonics enjoyed by some.

Tomorrow we hope to be out of the marina and sailing to either the Keppel Islands or Pearl Bay. Each yacht crew reads the weather and sails according to their vessels abilities. Staggered departure days will no doubt lead to heated discussions at destinations in other yacht clubs along the east coast of Australia.

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Thanks: Jen and Glenn of ST3.

 

 

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Fire! Fire! fire down below its fetch a bucket of water Glenn there's fire down below...

Our new anchor winch motor was installed in Bundaberg. The old one did not survive it's encounter with the humpback whale at Roonie's Point. We'd experienced so much frustration with delays ($$$) over the long and futile days at Bundy that we were keen to get moving. What a marvel the new motor was, and it worked very well at Lady Musgrave and Pancake Creek.

Our third use of the anchor winch motor was at Cape Capricorn. We completed our "up anchor" routine with ease. We are a well oiled team. Glenn is clear with his hand signals as he hangs over the bow. I can interpret his waving and shouts. I don't let his port/starboard confusion interfere at all with my own deeply entrenched dyslexia. I can easily juggle the helming and engine controls with the up and down switch, while reading the real time chart and depth soundings. I do this with my head poked out to one side of the dodger. I can steer with one outstretched leg. It's all very routine.

After about 20 mins of happy motoring I felt like a strong cup of coffee and climbed down the steps/ladder. I turned around as a stench hit me. Thick white smoke was pouring from the front cabin ( our V berth/ bedroom) and into the saloon ( lounge room). I turned and called out to Glenn but could only repeat #%#%! #%#%!, #%#%! I just didn't have the language to tell him what was happening. He looked blankly at me and then realised that he needed to spring into action. My brain just couldn't make any sense of what could possibly be happening to cause this burning plastic cloud. By the time he entered the saloon and headed forward Glenn could not see through the dense smoke. So he simply reached out and turned off the power. And that was it.

A fire to me is the charred ruins of bricks and mortar. An electrical fire however gathers heat and melts plastics, metals and surroundings before bursting into flame.

And so after only 8 days our shiny new anchor winch motor was no more. Glenn felt somewhat despondent because of what the recent replacement required So much hassell. I focused on the fact that there was no loss of life or boat. We are at sea after all, and fire is especially dangerous. Yachts are full of strange gasses and fuels.

Damage that was very nearly of the worse kind.

Burnt insulation caught just in time.

 

So here we are at Yeppoon, in the friendly marina of Rosslyn Bay. Our sailing instructor from some years ago Ginny Gerlach, greeted us and arranged for a good marine electrician to assess and assist us in our new anchor winch motor installation. No problem, except for where to sleep. The stench in the V berth was nauseating. All linen, pillows and doonas etc, needed washing. (boring, but thank goodness I have been collecting $1.00 coins for the laundrette). Our mattress is custom made, with innovative suspension and aeration for comfort at sea. Our choices for sleeping at night have been a round of 1: putting some lounge cushions on the floor (me), 2: the aft cabin with its stone-like mattress or 3: the narrow lounge/lee berth. All of these options have been most uncomfortable for the ageing nurse's spine. And what about Glenn who so likes his comfort? Much moaning. Five long and restless nights.

But just like any Polly Anna story there Is a silver lining. In my mind the interior of ST3 is too "log cabin" with too much use of timber. What better way to banish the stench than by painting the veneer timbers with fresh white. I'm smiling now, and the price of marine paint seems really economical now that we've paid the second mechanics bill.

Jen: Never happier than when in disarray while painting and decorating.

Glenn: aaaaarrrggghhhh!

 

 

 

 

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