Category: Blog

Since we reached the Coral Sea we have been hearing sailors talk of the semi-mythical showers of Dunk Island. The stories tell of a granite island rising out of the azure blue ocean. Its flanks are covered with tropical rain forest and it is fringed by coral reefs. There is a sandy bay sheltered from the prevailing trade winds where a sailing boat can attach to a free buoy. There is a friendly cafe open at weekends and – so the stories tell – there are showers with unlimited, free, hot water. For sailors this is a mixture of eldorado and the holy grail.

We sailed behind the majestic mountains of the Hichenbrook Channel and then on across the Coral Sea to finally ghost round the edge of the bay and take a buoy just as the wind dropped.

The next morning we took the dinghy to the jetty and set off along the beach to search for the gap in the rainforest that marked the walk to the highest point on the island. The forest was still cool and moist from the night’s rain and we were protected from the sun below the forest canopy which made for perfect walking conditions

A viewing platform at the summit offered fabulous views across the neighbouring islands. Some rusting metal in the bush was identified as a WW2 radar station which explained the well made track we had just climbed.

We decided to take the longer route back and so crossed the spine of the island in the forest. Now that we are in crocodile country, we had forgotten about snakes. Until we found one warming itself in a sunny patch in the middle of the path. It was small but unwilling to yield its place so we gingerly side stepped it.

From Coconut Bay we returned via the mangrove trees and granite blocks on the sea shore. We rewarded ourselves with a cafe lunch and then made our way to the legendary showers. They were really hot, endless and free. Amazing!

As the sun set we dropped the mooring buoy and headed out in to the star filled night.

We have been chasing Neville and Sally from the yacht Hau Korahi up the coast of Australia since we reached Queensland, having met them last year anchored behind Fraser Island. At Magnetic Island we finally found them and before we were even anchored were invited to an evening on their boat with dinner and card games.

Our friends told us of a fantastic walk through the national park on the island so the next day we set off in to the bush. The path began by climbing over a pass with lots of steps. Luckily we met a variety of interesting people who all offered an excuse for a rest. Having viewed and photographed the beautiful Radical Bay, we climbed a huge staircase set in the forest to the top of a hill. On the way we saw a total of four koalas including a mother with baby. All the koalas were chilling in trees while a gaggle of tourists photographed them. At the top there were old fortifications and a stunning view back to where we had come from and out to sea. Our route is at Alltrails.

After another night of food and games, Sally and Nev then took us to Palm Island where the population is mostly aborigine. We visited the cultural center and learned about the horrific regime that sent people here for such awful crimes as cheeking a teacher or getting pregnant without being married. The first of those two was there at least ten years, the second never left and we met her daughter. The government deported aborigines who “wouldn’t fit in” to this island for 70 years before abandoning them to run the place themselves. Unsurprisingly the island has a lot of social problems but surprisingly we met and talked to locals who were convinced that things would get better. It was a very friendly island with a bad reputation.

Tom Morgan was sent as a teenage for cheeking the teacher of State School at Gordonvale. Placed in handcuffs at Gordonvale police station, he’s sentenced to Palm Island was for a two year period. Ten years later Tom Morgan was still on Palm Island.

Palm Island cultural center

More wine, more snacks and more games and then we were off to Orpheus Island where Sally organized an extremely knowledgeable guide to explain about the work of the Orpheus Island Research Station which is a part of the James Cook University. We could get a really close look at corals in a huge salt water tank and learn how they live, what stresses them and a plethora of other marine information.

A final enjoyable evening together and the next day we sailed north while our friends turned back south. But the world is round so we bid each other “until the next time” rather than “goodbye”.

Only a few days ago I was writing about the challenge of avoiding charter yachts and how we are heading north to get away from them.

The Australian and US military are holding training exercises in Queensland at the moment. A military exclusion zone has been established in one area and is full of US naval vessels. We re-planned our route to sail outside the exclusion zone and were following the northern border on a sunny day with perfect visibility. We had all our sails out so were a relatively obvious white speck on a blue ocean. We were constantly sending our position, speed and course via our AIS transmitter.

A US naval vessel was approaching us (obviously using his engine) and making no attempt to avoid a collision within the next 15 minutes so we called him on the VHF radio

Fort Charles this is Artemis. Over.
Artemis this is the US naval vessel Fort Charles. Over.
This is Artemis. We are the sailing vessel off your port bow. The current vectors suggest that we are going to meet shortly. Do you intend to take appropriate avoiding action or are you expecting us to take some action? Over.

Short pause …

Artemis this is Fort Charles. We will go hard to port and cross behind your stern. Over.
This is Artemis. Thank you and have a nice day. Out.

The question this raises is whether you can charter US naval vessels.

When in charge of a vessel at sea – everything from a canoe to a supertanker is a vessel – then you have to know and abide by the international “rules of the road”. These can be as easy as right before left when two motor boats meet but for sail boats they get a little more complicated.

If two vessels are under sail and approaching one another then the boat with the wind coming from the starboard side must keep a constant course and speed. The vessel with the wind coming from the port side must make obvious and timely adjustments to avoid collision. If both vessels have the wind on the same side then the upwind boat must do the avoiding. If one boat has its engine on then that boat must do the avoiding.

I admit that the above sounds complicated and it can be even more so in real life but I always thought that the fact some one was out sailing around meant that they at least theoretically understood the rules. But we are now among the Whitsunday Islands and surrounded by charter boats. Yesterday a sailor told me that the people in charge of these boats have no idea at all. I assumed she was wrongly informed so I just checked the Internet.

No formal boating qualifications or licences are required to charter with Whitsunday Escape. Some boating knowledge and experience is all it takes. 

Whitsunday Escape

To enjoy your bareboat charter you don’t need any sort of boat license, just some basic boating experience.

Charter Yachts Australia

Boating licences and qualifications are not a requirement for charter hire …

Cumberland Charter Hire

That is so frightening. Basically we have to assume that every charter boat we meet has no idea of how to safely interact with us. I would suggest we call them on the VHF radio and try to explain what should happen but we tried that once and they appeared to have the radio off (which is also not allowed).

The only sensible solution seems to be to head north away from this stupidity.

Addendum.

Within minutes of posting this blog entry I received the following messages.

• Anyone that claims to know “how to sail”, qualifies to charter a yacht. Indeed, stay clear of charter boats. Sail and socialise with the “live aboards” ….they understand the rules. Annie
• Oh so true – the charter yacht stupidity is beyond comprehension. Best way to avoid them is to head north! Neville
• “The only sensible solution seems to be to head north away from this stupidity.” You’ll have to go all the way to the Arctic and that might not even do the trick. It seems to me that knowing the rules is actually dangerous as well as a huge disadvantage (to your boat, your safety, and especially to your mental health). If you don’t know the rules, you won’t be expecting anyone to do the right thing. Rich
• I experienced this recently in the Ijsselmeer. A motor boat maintained its course to miss us (sailing) by maybe 20 metres across our bow. The guy just looked at us as he went past. Davo

We have reached the Whitsunday Islands. These tropical islands off the coast of Queensland are where Australian sailors dream of spending winter; the number of charter yachts anchored around us is witness to that. After a long sail we reached Shaw Island in the south of the archipelago and hid from the strong trade winds in its shade. Heidi studied the pilot books and declared Sawmill Bay as our next target. The Bay was only twenty nautical miles away and, if we lazed around in the morning and used the falling tide to help us along, would be an easy day sail.

The lazing around went well and getting Artemis shipshape is now a well trained “standard operating procedure”. As we lifted anchor, the wind was behind us and, as soon as we left the bay, the effect of the following tidal stream could be felt. The sun was shining so we sat outside and hand steered towards the distant outline of Dent Island.

Neill handed over the tiller to Heidi and went below. Just as he returned and stuck his head out of the companionway a large wave approached. Heidi could read in his face that “something” less good was about to happen. The wave smothered Heidi and continued on to soak Neill. Luckily he blocked most of the water from heading below so we only had a minor flood in the kitchen. Neill stripped his wet clothes off, used them to begin mopping up the worst of the salt water and then got dressed in dry clothes before relieving a dripping wet Heidi. Heidi added her sodden clothes to the collection in the sink and then began some serious wiping up.

By now we had reached the passage between the islands and the current was running at three to four knots. With a bit of sail we were making eight knots whether we wanted to or not. Heidi had a hard turn to starboard (right) planned through a small passage between two islands. We jibed the sails, pointed right and – kept going straight on. With more sail and a few more course adjustments we were managing to juggle tide and wind to head through the passage. And then – of course – a huge motorboat appeared coming towards us. For a moment the situation could be described as tense. Heidi called the motorboat on the radio and said “We are under sail and are trying to maintain our course but it is difficult”. His answer was a curt “Understood!” and he turned to pass far away from us.

With the motorboat gone, the tidal stream dropped to less than two knots and the wind to a breeze and we could relax and enjoy the sail around the corner to the exotic Sawmill Bay.

Later the kitchen, oven, walls and floors had been cleaned with fresh water, our clothes were washed and hanging in the cockpit and we could enjoy a sundown drink and reflect on our quick day sail.

We first met Stuart in a yacht club in Tasmania. He had almost lost his propeller and was bolting it firmly back on. Stuart’s boat is a solar powered sailing boat so pretty much what we dream about every time our diesel engine is started.

A few days later Stuart was in Launceston and came on board for a coffee. He was picking his wife, Heather, up in Hobart and they would both be back in a few days.

Unfortunately, by the time they were together in Launceston, we were climbing Mount Amos so we missed each other again.

A few days later they drove out to Coles Bay where we were at anchor and called us on the phone. A squall had just begun so we all agreed I would pick them up in the dinghy as soon as it finished. An hour later the squall was now a storm and they drove away unseen.

Shortly afterwards they set sail back north so that Stuart could stand for the Green Party in the state election. We agreed that we would stop on our way north to see them.

A few months later we arrived in their home town of Port Macquarie and took a buoy next to their boat. The locals were all friendly but – Heather and Stuart were further north in Mooloolaba. We continued north.

After our time in Raby Bay, we were once again searching but now received the information that they were on a catamaran behind the Great Barrier Reef. We sailed north of Fraser Island and – wonder of wonders – finally met Heather on Great Keppel Island.

Heather, Meredith, Stuart and Brian invited us for a delicious dinner and enjoyable evening on the catamaran and the following morning we all enjoyed coffee and cake on Artemis.

It only took seven months but we finally met Heather.

After the long journey from Tasmania heading north, we finally used a breeze to drift to the entrance from the Pacific Ocean in to the quiet sheltered waters behind Stradbroke Island.

About a mile inside the waterways we dropped anchor and then slept for twelve hours with no one on watch, no rolling bed and no need to worry about lurking ships or fishing boats. Over the next few days we used the rising and falling tides to work our way to Raby Bay and Chris & Sue’s private pontoon. As we entered the canals it felt a bit like coming home especially once Artemis was securely fixed and we were all sat in their kitchen with a cup of coffee.

In Indonesia it is law that visiting yachts have an AIS transmitter – a device that sends your position and course to other vessels around you. We had already ordered the relevant hardware and so, after the coffee, Sue presented us with a pile of parcels to unwrap. Luckily everything worked as we had hoped and after a few days we were sending our position to the world. You can see us on Marinetraffic. At the end of the project we had the old receiver left over so installed that on Chris & Sue’s catamaran. Now they can see the vessels around them on their display.

We needed some new flags and Heidi mentioned buying material to Sue. The next day, the material was bought, the sewing machine was out and, after lots of work by Sue and Heidi, we were the proud owners of extremely well made Scottish and Indonesian flags.

I have lost track of the places that Sue and Chris drove us to so that we could buy “the bit” we needed to fix something. I think we seriously impacted their working efficiency. I know that we ate every day in an amazing restaurant and both put on weight because there was nothing you could say no to.

One afternoon we were picked up by our friends the Laming family. Dad was up north working but the ladies kept us fed and entertained the entire evening. Neill was definitely outnumbered and lost every discussion he got involved in. We received a copy of Andrew’s latest book but, as he was not there, it was signed by his wife and daughters – we hope the kids grow up to be very famous. The empty wine bottles were a good hint that we needed an Uber to get home.

After a week of living the high life we sailed back out in to the bay and round to Coochiemudlo Island where Anne and Ivan live. We had met them in Tasmania and, as we were passing, called in for a coffee. The coffee turned out to be coffee and pancakes with jam and cream followed by a cheese board, then pork and all the trimmings and ice cream with chocolate mousse.

We took the dinghy back to Artemis in the dark, lifted anchor and sailed north reflecting what amazing friends we have made in Australia.

I am writing this while anchored in the Burnett River downstream from Bundaberg. It is eight months since we were last here and in that time we have sailed 4000 nautical miles. That is 7400 kilometers which is the same distance as from Gibraltar to Saint Petersburg – and back again. Or from Switzerland to Namibia. It is a long way, especially in an eleven meter boat that averages 4 knots or 7.5 kilometers per hour.

Eight months ago we had not seen the fireworks on New Years Eve, we didn’t know there was an Australian territory called “Jervis Bay” and we had never seen Tasmania. We had only read about the legendary Bass Strait, didn’t know how wood boats were built and had never worked on a stud farm. Port Davey, Lakes Entrance and Bruny Island were names we had never heard of. We had never cycled through the Blue Mountains or taken our bikes to the top of Mount Wellington. We have seen a lot and learned a lot, “down south”.

When we left here there were so many people that we didn’t know and now call friends. Other sailors, ex sailors and those we met in the ports and bays we called at. People invited us to their houses or boats, drove us where we needed to go, gave us presents of fish, fruit and vegetables or organised the support we needed to enjoy our travels.

We are lucky that we can afford the time to decide that “Tasmania sounds nice” and then take eight months to sail there and back. But we are also glad that we have the drive to do it. Others were here when we left and are still here now, dreaming of the adventure they will do “one day!”

And now it is time to head north towards Indonesia. It is “only” 2100 miles as the crow flies.

Tying your boat to a dock in a marina should not be rocket science. It is a fairly easy process and if you are not sure you can even look it up in the Internet. There are “cleats” on each side of the dock and you tie your lines to the cleats nearest you.

But, as this picture shows, this is too complicated for some people. They bought a nice big motor boat and have now tried to shoehorn it into a small dock. They ran out of cleats on their side so thought they would use one of the neighbours.

They could have tied a single loop leaving space for the neighbour but instead decided to see how much rope you could get on a cleat to ensure their was nothing left for the boat next door.

Obviously, at some point some one took exception to this stupidity and untied the line. Maybe, at this point, you or I would have considered if what we were doing was sensible or polite. But not Mr Big Boat. He then used cable ties to ensure no one untied his lines from the cleats he had “stolen”.

It makes you wonder. But then you take a look in the boat’s cockpit and wonder a little less.