Showing posts with label nsw coast. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nsw coast. Show all posts

Sunday, September 29, 2013

Note to Jen.

Jen, you make me laugh. As a matter of fact our lives are filled with laughter more times than not. I always smile a little to myself when I hear you tell other cruisers that you are not really an experienced sailor. I beg to differ, and I would like to remind you of some of your achievements. I have verbalised them to you to no avail, so perhaps if I write them down, you and others will realize how experienced you really are.........

Our first boat Anembo was a Compass 28. It was a small but sturdy little yacht. You helped me sail it between Jervis Bay, Ulladulla and Batemans Bay many times. You always felt a little sick but you were there to help and give a hand any time you were needed. You must remember that the south coast of NSW is the Tasmen Sea. Ask any of our sailing friends who have circumnavigated, or are in the process of circumnavigating and they will all agree that it's the worst bit of coastline they have encounted.

Crazy Lady, our next boat was a South Coast 36. We found her in sad decline when we purchased her. We both rebuilt her from the bones up. You were always there with encouragement and suggestions, and never afraid to get your hands dirty doing a project. Crazy was in such good condition when we eventually sold her. She achieved the highest price of any South Coast 36 at that time, and all of course with your help. Meanwhile you managed to get our four kids through matriculation, no mean feat!!

I also forgot to mention at the same time that you also attained your Coxans Certificate at Ulladulla Tafe. You came first in the navigation course, in a class full of men including yours truly.

We both sailed Crazy Lady up and down the NSW Coast but your greatest achievement was sailing Her across Bass Strait. Remember how sick I got. You nearly sailed halfway across solo while i was in a "coma" down below. I have copied the essay you wrote after that adventure to remind you of your courage and fortitude.

A Country Girl at Heart.

"I was staring through the lifelines at the water rushing past the side of Crazy on our way towards Eden. I had became aware that the ocean was undergoing a definite change in character. Was it was becoming more viscous?

Previously I had noticed that the watery -play - grounds of some of the pristine areas that we had visited further north were light, splashy, enticing, happy and almost playful. A holiday mood. A frolic. No real fear of being "lost" and "out of sight" if someone should fall in.

The waters nearer Eden (Twofold Bay) looked more serious, thicker and official.

I thought about the bloody slaughter of whales and the fragile men perched in their open timber vessels; of the dead. I felt sad, and vaguely worried. We had brought the grey skies with us. "It's just some rain" I thought, knowing that supplying and refueling of the yacht would now be much more awkward. But even at this anchorage in this still area, the clear waters were a darker turquoise than I expected. A "wolve in sheep's clothing" as if trying to imitate the fancy colour of a memory that was once known and now corrupted by time.

If I knew the earth to be flat, this water felt like the edge of the known world.

The changes became more significant as Gabo Island finally passed and land moved away. I could now see exactly why these waves troubled me.They were short and abrupt, crisp navy in colour with visible intense detail. They were without contamination of light or debris.They were the guards of the seas ahead. They were a military force and we were in their zone.I could define the border as we sailed through the check point.These seas meant business.No games, no laughter, no frivolity, and no good times.The white caps on their crests were clean cut and vivid, and did not integrate with the blue below.

I watched the land slip away and was astonished to note the ordinariness of the trees and cliffs. It had the appearance of a poorly worked landscape, a lazy artist who had smudged olive green and rust brown into the background by using a careless blending of the thumb.

I lay down in the lee-berth inside the warm cabin. I stared at the ceiling. It pulsated for a second or so. Was this a panic attack?. I calmed my mind. We were about to sail over a very angry strait of ocean that had claimed thousands of lives. Out of the sight of land.

The next time on deck the ocean surface looked restless, an energy was being held firmly in place by a heavy handed ruler. No wave was individual but all were seething with a bad temper. The depth of this smoldering sea extended thousands of metres below our boat. I found a childlike comfort in focusing my vision on the rectangular frame of the lifelines, but not beyond.

The landing of the fog around Crazy Lady came as a comfort. Bland weak wet grey mist everywhere. I could now easily deny the existence of all the outer watery unknowns. I was happy to be in this dangerous state of total denial, a good but bizarre place to live.

The calm waters of the fog looked thick, limp and oily. They irritated me. They seemed so fake. I knew they wouldn't last. They meant something else was on the way. The fog lifted and the bland disappeared. I was bashed all night long on the nose of Crazy. A southerly that was not forecast had intruded into my night watch and as helmsman I was on trial. This was not a time to call for Glenn's help. I needed to prove myself worthy enough to commit this trespass. Determination, and protectiveness of my crew just kept me at the wheel.

I came on deck in the daylight. The water's surface was now firm and alive, fit and active and very muscular. There were no longer any mindless threats by waves out of sheer spite. Flinders Island had been sighted. A friendly coast guard had called us by name. We were in the substantial Tasmania waters, strong in body and robust.

I'm beginning to relax a little now. In writing this I'm trying to make some sense of all of these new raw sensations. It's been a bit hard for a country girl at heart."

End.

You have just helped me sail ST3 from Sydney to the Whitsunday Islands, and you are an integral part of the team. I couldn't have done it without you!!!!!

So Sydney to Hobart, Sydney to Whitsundays. "Not experienced"!! Jen, sorry but I don't believe you. If others hear Jen say it, please remind her of what she has achieved.

And the next time I hear you say that sort of thing please don't mind if I strangle you.

Glenn.

 

Monday, July 22, 2013

Queensland. The long arrival.

We left Iluka at dawn. For the entire trip the seas were calm with a slight swell. The pinnacle of Mount Warning watched over us for most of our daylight hours. It was a day of motor sailing: some good speed from the sails prior to lunch. After passing Cape Byron our forward motion slowed right down as a south running current took hold. We revised our arrival time from 21.00 to 23.00. Good coverage was given by the marine rescue who followed us up the coast via radio contact.

Mount Warning: Our view from sea.

When can I surf?

The hero of the day was Glenn "I'm the Skipper" who continually assessed the swell, the activity of charted reefs, kept a look out for navigational hazards (any other craft except ST3) and whales. Glenn did really well without any of the sea sick symptoms that were previously so troubling by night fall. He used the ET' Sea Sick tablets at 6am and 3pm. Apart from feeling thirsty he had nil side effects, including no drowsiness and no nausea.

Mount Warning saying goodnight.

Queensland.
Hip hip Hooray. After 17 long hours of motoring sailing today we are here!
We left Woolwich marina on June 1 and are "chipping away at it". We can now say that we have sailed the entire east coast of NSW and Tasmania. These coasts are recognised as some of the more challenging that Australia has to offer. Glenn is not in a hurry to retrace his path.
After safely entering Southport we began to relax. We had just broken some of the most deeply entrenched sailors laws: never enter an unknown port in the dark, never cross a bar on an outgoing tide, and never attempt a bar crossing at low tide. The benign conditions made all of this possible. Even so I did look back and was shocked go see the steepness of the unbroken waves as they stood up on the shallow water.
The street and building lights of this tourist city (just like most of this coast) created a glittering back drop for the precious navigational lead lights of Port and Starboard. I tried to make sense of the visual chaos by using the binoculars while the very tired Skipper Glenn kept his eye on the chart plotter. No one told us about the assortment of dredgers and machinery that officially litter this channel. Slow and steady. I photographed this machine's lights while looking back out to sea. When it first came into view we were motoring towards the city. It was a blaze with four red lights to port, four green to starboard and several random white lights. It looked like a child's pyramid display. I realised that we were heading straight for it. A second protruding dredger only displayed a fluorescent light shining from inside the galley!!!

Just another floating Christmas tree!

Today we started our search for an outboard motor mechanic. This was easy because our sailing mentors Ken and Lyn from Tasmania were on a road trip holiday in this area. They kindly drove us hither and tither and we enjoyed a long luscious land lunch at the famous Jupiters Casino. According to the publicity there are 5 of their customers who will be millionaires within the next 5 weeks. Probably a bit strange to most people but I have been feeling incredibly wealthy in these past 7 weeks even though Glenn and I are carefully counting our pennies.

I reckon it's fake.

Jupiters Casino: The lucky zodiac includes everyone who was born during any year. It's about 15metres high. The scantly clad figure at the top is curious.

Where we are:

http://skipr.net/where-is/boat-pages/?boatid=1122

 

Thursday, July 18, 2013

Return to Iluka

We are back in Iluka Harbour after a three day adventure up the Clarence River. We are expecting to sail to QLD on either Sunday or Monday.(depending on the weather). We have really enjoyed this area of the coast . It has so much to offer those who love the ocean.


Maclean 2013. ( for my English relatives)
At Maclean We woke to visions of fog cladded sugar cane farms. A photographers delight.

Cane farm.
How's this for an accidental photo?

Around the next bend from our anchorage, the Clarence River veered to the left and flowed off to Grafton. On the right a massive opening formed the Broadwater Lake. It's a water bird paradise and breeding area. Pelicans, Spoonbills, Darters, Cormorants, Egrets, Herons, Ibis and many other native water fowl nest and breed here. We couldn't wait for the fog to lift.
11am and exploring up stream.
Glenn likes to " drive" the dinghy, while I find it frustrating. He does get tired as we putter along with our 3hp Yamaha outboard motor. The trip to the Broadwater took well over an hour. Here he is seen perfecting the "knee controlled tiller technique" while reclining.
A versatile man of leisure.
We could see from a distance what Glenn thought were long floating obstacles, maybe floating pipe lines. As we approached we realise that these were dense lines of ducks swimming in formation. (Eurasian Coot actually, exhibiting their winter rafting up behaviour). There were 100s or possible 1000's in each very long line. Guess whose 'knee' made the decision to charge straight through this line. Frantic flapping of wings in all directions, but no injuries. The helmsman was duly scolded and repentant. These long dark lines were frequent on the Broadwater and extended well beyond the visible horizon.
Neat rows of little ducks.
ST3 close to the Pacific Hwy Bridge at Harwood.
A "fouled prop" is a yachtie's nightmare. (Anything from fishing nets, discarded rope and plastics can cause the failure of the propeller to create thrust in the water. The engine will be on but there will be no forward motion). We were preparing to position ST3 in mid river for our second Pacific Hwy bridge underpass at Harwood. Our booking time was approaching. By chance Glenn heard a bumping noise along side the pontoon. Nothing was visible except for the end of a bit of stick. Our hero pulled at the bit of stick. It did not yield. He then pulled again and this time swore. It was apparent that the stick was part of something much bigger. The call was raised: "Jen, I need help. This bugger is twisted around the prop". Glenn had located a submerged sugar or bamboo cane with shoots that were grasping thevprop so that it just wouldn't float away. We both twisted and pulled as it suddenly yielded. The stick was half of the yacht's length. Thank goodness we found it before the cars and trucks were stopped up on the highway bridge.

Great prop fouling material.

by Glenn: Meeting Alan Lucas. As mentioned in our last blog post we discovered that we had anchored right next to Mr Lucas's boat "Soleares". In cruising yachting circles Alan is a legend. Anyone who has sailed the east coast of Australia over the past 45 years would have had his essential cruising guides on board. I have been studying the guides for years and with the hope of fulfilling the dream that we are now undertaking. It was great to chat with Alan. Although his wife Patricia has been unwell they will also be heading north at around the same time as Sea Trek III and crew.

Alan Lucas's yacht Soleares sharing the fog with us.

Where we are:

http://skipr.net/where-is/boat-pages/?boatid=1122


 

 

 

 

 

 

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Motoring up the mighty Clarence River

Did you know that a keeled sailing yacht can motor 40kms up the mighty Clarence River to Grafton and beyond. We just had to explore the Clarence because this is probably our only chance. We are not in a rush and the weather is glorious. Everything we read said go! The depths under Sea Trek III to Maclean ranged up to 16 mtrs. The river is both wide and deep.


We were surprised to pass a reef fishing vessel called "Tom". The chart plotter and the sailor's voluminous guide by Alan Lucas "Sailing the NSW Coast", reassured us that we would not be grounded. Neither of us ever expected to be travelling on deep Australian rivers.

Introducing Tom. What's he doing here?
Going under bridges is a buzz. The Hardwood bridge required opening just for us. With a phone call the traffic on the Pacific Highway was stopped and the span raised. Full acceleration. There can be current disturbances when passing under bridges. Pylons and boats don't mix and we have previously experienced a few hairy moments on someone else's yacht. This passage was easy, but it did cause some anxiety. Glenn hates heights and will not look up when we pass under. (even the Sydney Harbour Bridge). I know that doesn't really make sense. ST3's mast is approx 18mtrs high and we had heaps of room.

The dinghy enjoying itself.
 
Maclean is "Australia's Scottish Town" according to their tourist pamphlets. While looking for a good cup of coffee and roaming the streets we noticed an abundance of murals. I have to ask why they are all so darn awful. The craft shoppe was just as bad.
Don"t flush 'me umbrella down the well Donald! Woof Woof. WTF!
The Scottish heritage of this town is on display on over 200 light poles decorated with Tartan and the names of the founding families. One of the very first I saw was on pole 58: CAMERON. I was so excited that I instantly messaged my life long friend Maureen about it! It's not her surname but is included somewhere on her birth certificate. (I do know her full name but am sworn to secrecy, lest she reveals too much about me to others). I then went on the search for Mc Slattery, McAndrew, MacGordon, MacLove and of course also hoping to find a McHuppatz. Glenn became tired and scuffly again, telling me that he had already walked a lot this week. (today is Tuesday) He also worried that I would be hit by a car because the names on the tartan cladded poles are only visible if viewed from the road.

A pole of distinction for Maureen.
 
The Scotts are known to be extremely thrifty. This sign "Tidiest Street 1982" is probably due to be retired now. It is on the main tourist road and I think that it has been recycled annually. It is a very very tidy street. The light poles are all nicely draped in Tartan. When you're on a winning streak why change!
A very proud street
 

Glenn is cooking his way through the Iluka meat raffle tray. He couldn't be happier. I wonder why a fishing town didn't have a sea food theme for the pub fund raiser? I suppose then it wouldn't be a meat raffle.

AND HERE'S NEWS...

Where to anchor or moor ST 3 safely while at Maclean? We had consulted various reliable sources (friends after sundowner drinks) and of course the bible for sailors : Alan Lucas's "Cruising the NSW Coast". (in print since 1968). We scoped the area for depth and then took the written advise of the author. We were congratulating our selves on choosing an anchorage in perfect depth etc, and Glenn proclaimed "Alan Lucas recommends this spot so it must be good". We then saw that Alan Lucas himself was right behind us and leaving his yacht Soleares to row to shore. We waved. Mr Lucas was in the other perfect position. We may approach him for an autograph.


Alan Lucas: our bed time reading.

 

Monday, July 15, 2013

Iluka

The Iluka Pub. Not very glamorous and the extensions are built of fibro.(asbestos) We reasoned that the food had to be good. Lots of locals there. Steak and chips and perhaps a refreshing ale, was on our minds.


Has seen better days.
OMG. We won the meat raffle. How did that happen? There was fierce competition for the trays on Saturday night. The footy was blasting out on the big screen. So it was sausages for breakfast, rissoles for lunch, cutlets for dinner and Mylanta for supper. Luckily the fridge is fixed.

Jen "I'm a Vegan now"
 
The Iluka peninsula has a World Heritage listed Nature Reserve, and is the largest remnant of littoral rainforest in NSW. The strangler Figs were fascinating.

Don't hug me so tightly
 
We walked about 10kms around the rainforest area. It has been a long time since either of us had walked this far. By the end Glenn was a thirsty scuffling wreck. The view from the lookout foretold of the weather change.

Time to get moving, back to ST3
 
We also scrambled along the break walls to watch the course taken by other vessels entering and leaving the mighty Clarence River. This rock is reminiscent of our recent whale encounter.

A whale of a tale

Catamaran cruising over to Yamba
We are off to explore the mighty Clarence River tomorrow, going up as far as Maclean. Do I here the bag pipes playing. Glenn hopes to find his own tartan.
 
 

 

Sunday, July 14, 2013

Thoughts on Sailing at night

By Jen

1.30 am on a totally moonless and cloudless night. We cast off the lines that had held Sea Trek III firmly to the pontoon of the brightly lit marina. We motored slowly away from the street lights and into the dense black night. Life jackets on. Our first challenge was to pass between the two unseen break-walls standing ahead of us in the dark. We could hear the crashing waves out beyond. I watched the flashing red warning light positioned on top of the concrete boulders. I was very certain that we were already off course. I fought my panic and urged my sense of reason to take hold. "Red to Port!" I shouted and instantly knew that I was wrong. We were leaving not arriving. I knew that Glenn had charted our departure correctly. I was tormented by the thought of my children living their adult lives beyond my drowning.

Just one red light

Glenn was on the helm and watching the chart plotter. He was now blind to anything outside of the cockpit due to the illumination of the electronics. I had chosen to ride " shot gun" style, seated behind our large starboard winch. On this night sail I will be the eyes for ST3 and the lookout for everything ahead. I leaned out to the side a little. There was nothing to see. Why was there was no moon in the sky? This is a major oversight and I secretly cursed the skipper for placing us both in such danger. We knew that whales were still heading north. We had no way of detecting or avoiding them. Fishing dinghies also bob around out there without lights. Lives at risk. I was seething with frustration as we turned NNE and into the open ocean. Here we go.

We made small talk about the trip ahead in the faint glow of the cockpit. I began to sing old TV themes and relaxed more with the laughter of familiar memories. Then I noticed that the night sky with its trillions of stars had created a gentle light around us. I could see in the dark! So much around us was visible. The water surface was so still that we were travelling in exceptional conditions. No wind, no ripples, no waves and no swell. The brightest star that I could see was close to the horizon. It cast a ribbon of reflection towards our little boat. I had only ever seen this on a pond or quiet river before. The phosphorescence in our bow waves flashed as it rushed past. I was mesmerised. It was beautiful out here. As I watched I pondered on the perished lives of people taken by the water. In these moments of reflection I knew that those lost lives powered the passing specks of light energy. I also understood why ancient faiths studied the shapes of their gods in the stars patterns. The souls of the departed were also visible tonight in the heavens. I felt a wisdom descend.

 

 

Continuing North Coffs Harbour to Iluka

Coffs Harbour. We ended up spending 5 days at the The International Coffs Harbour Marina. We spent a great deal of that time waiting to have repairs done! Our fridge is small but vital for our provisioning. It had stopped working. Our consistent problems with the autopilot continued to be consistent. (yes its meant to read like that Jen!) Coursemaster Autopilots take note: I'm only halfway through my letter of complaints. (a list of them)

Sea Trek III @ Coffs Harbour Marina.

For those of you familiar with the jetty area in Coffs you will know that its a hive of activity. It has shops, yacht club and eateries. There was no shortage of things to do and places to visit. Jen really enjoyed the walk on the monumental old jetty. I enjoyed a couple of SUP surfs at Jetty Beach. I was able able to launch from the deck of ST3 and paddle out of the marina to the beach. SUPs are amazing for catching little waves that normally would be unridable. I did scare the hell out of the whale watching skipper on the commercial vessel docked next to us when I threw the SUP overboard. It made a the huge splash and had him thinking that one of his customers had fallen in.

It seemed like every sailor we met recommended "Attitude Hamburgers" to us. We were tired after our sail from Trial Bay on Monday and fancied someone else's cooking. We arrived at 6pm anticipating the culinary delights of these boutique burgers. Jen and I scanned the menu with our stomachs grumbling. Jen chose a "Tree Hugger": a vegetarian mushroom delight, while I chose their special "Attitude" Angus Beef. There were about 10 other customers enjoying drinks around the outdoor fire place. Can you imagine my surprise (I was flabbergasted ) when I came to order only to be told by the waitress "sorry, but we have run out of meat and there will be a 40 minute wait for everything else". So we ate elsewhere and it was rather ordinary.

Monumental Old Jetty at Jetty Beach Coffs Harbour.

It was great to catch up with Izzy Foreal while we were in Coffs. Izzy and I played in the "Trashed Out Cats" in the 90's. ( I think?) James and I had recently attended and played at Izzy's "When I'm 64" celebrations at Raleigh. We did that trip by road. Izzy called down to the boat for a cup of tea and a catch up on what we have both been up to since those heady 90's days. When you're in the area make sure you catch one of Izzy's shows. He's very entertaining.

Izzy Foreal on ST3

James and Glenn perform at Izzy Forreal's "When I'm 64" earlier in 2013. I'm blessed to be able to perform with my son on stage on occasions.

Whilst in Coffs we also caught up with fellow cruisers Ines and Steve from SV Bravado. We met them in Port Stephens and have now caught up with them in Camden Haven and Coffs too. They have raced ahead of us now and are in "Bums Bay" on the Gold Coast. Jen snapped a great pic of them coming in to escape the approaching storm front.

Bravado looking for safe anchorage.

The fridge is now fixed, and I know a lot more about 12volt refrigeration. The autopilot is still inconsistent and we are now safely anchored in Iluka Harbour. We left Coffs around 2am on Saturday morning and motor sailed the whole way: about 9.5 hours.(once again timing our arrival to cross the bar). We were greeted by "I'm the skipper" star: John King! John lives here on his beautiful catamaran "Dream Weaver". We have known John since we first started looking for a yacht to sail when we all lived in the Ulladulla area. We both then moored our older yachts at Batemans Bay. John also helped me bring ST3 back from Brisbane on her delivery trip.

Just who is the skipper? Convention at Iluka

We are staying at Iluka until Saturday and we are looking forward to exploring the mighty Clarence river by yacht. We will motor to Maclean this week. We thought that it was too good an opportunity to miss this famous voyage and I don't think we will be back this way for sometime to come.

Where we are:

http://skipr.net/where-is/boat-pages/?boatid=1122


 

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

BRING OUT THE TWEEZERS AND MAGNIFYING GLASS.

We are really enjoying Camden Haven and surrounds. The area is very scenic and sleepy the locals are friendly and welcoming, and I reckon its one of those places where you wouldn't have to lock things up. Today friendly local and fellow sailor Phillip from SV Seaka drove us up to the top of Brother mountain lookout. Check the view out!!!!

Camden Haven view.

We had a phone call earlier this morning from Ines and Steve from Bravado, who were sailing to Camden Haven. Imagine our surprise when we spotted them in their yacht lining up the entrance of the sandbar. I rang Steve and yes it was Bravado. Phillip was able to guide them in over the phone from the top of Brother mountain! After Ines and Steve were moored we spent a pleasant couple of hours over coffee and biscuits on ST3.

The tiny white spot outside of the breaking waves is Bravado and Sea Trek III is near Phillip's elbow.

We had a great evening at Greg and Anne's last night. Greg who is a fellow member of the CCRAP Band and also lives in the area. He is the Camden Haven Port Officer for Coastal Cruising Club of Australia (CCCA). They generously picked us up from the Dunbogan Boatshed and drove us to their beautiful acreage property at Bonny Hills. Greg baked a lovely beef and mushroom pie dedicated to Jen.

Jen's Pie. Nice work Greg!

Greg and Anne also have their own bee hive and multiple citrus trees. We felt truly blessed to be able to sample this fresh homegrown produce.

Goldie's Glowing Honey.

Greg is also a crack uke player and he was able to show me a few new tricks and riffs. Its always a pleasure to jam with him.

Again! 1, 2, 3, 4!

Now the sad part of the story...................

Jen's version:

The next chapter is not at all sad.......We returned to ST3 feeling well fed. Suddenly Glenn started experiencing excruciating pain. This was a private pain that was so private that he could not even name it. He could only point, and he was pointing to the jeans/groin. Jen the RN jumped into action. "Drop your trousers now!!!" Glenn reclined on the lounge naked from the waist down. A quick inspection of his nether nether regions and I dashed to my extensive first aid collection that I have been carting around with me unused for years. I returned with local anaesthetic, very sharp and accurate surgical tweezers and our largest magnifying glass. Glenn looked pale as I dove into his pubes for a closer look. The diagnosis was a small tick, eating its way through his delicate flesh. I applied a big dollop the numbing creme. Glenn was nervous and told me that he might faint. There was no time to loose. I began to move towards my target, spotlighting the painful swollen area with a torch and precision tweezers and magnifying glass in hand. Then I began to giggle, and I mean really chuckle. This was ridiculous. What man in the world would want to admit that a woman needed so many implements to locate their most prized possessions? I came up for air and gained my composure. Then I swooped in and removed the tick and a few pubic hairs without a shriek or cry from the patient. Success was mine, and Glenn lives!

Where we are.

http://skipr.net/where-is/boat-pages/?boatid=1122