Archives pour décembre, 2012
After scrubbing some of the barnacles off the hull, we exited the Gold Coast Seaway at high tide, set our #3 jib and full main, and started reaching down the coast. Soon the skyscrapers on the beach gave way to rolling hills, and the reach turned to a run. We quickly entered the East Australian Current, and our speed started climbing up into the double digits. As the night fell, we started seeing a lot of freighter traffic, often headed straight for us. Around two in the morning we passed Coffs Harbour. This was supposed to be our initial port of entry into Australia, but weather and an autopilot failure forced us to go to Bundaberg instead. Little did I know it would take us a month to get here! Since it was dark, and we were still averaging 11 knots, I kept us pointed South towards Port Macquarie, seventy miles away. Unfortunately, we were only half way there when, shortly after sunrise, the 20-knot tailwind faltered and was immediately replaced by a 20-knot headwind. I quickly reefed the main, but within minutes, we were violently bashing through steep waves, overpowered with our big jib. Unwilling to backtrack 35 miles to Coffs Harbour, I pointed the boat at the shore and an hour later we were in the relative shelter of Trial Bay, where we anchored. As the bay is completely exposed to the North, we would have to leave as soon as the Northerlies returned. But we managed to spend two relatively tranquil nights there nevertheless before getting back on the southward-bound conveyor belt. After a couple miles the current left us and we entered Port Stephens in darkness, groped around in the black night, and (with quite a bit of luck) stumbled onto a free public mooring. We spent a couple days with our necks craned up in the air looking for koalas (unsuccessfully), before heading out towards Pittwater, 70 miles distant, where we were expected for Christmas. This time there was no current at all, and the wind was lighter than forecast, so I hoisted the spinnaker, for the first time since the run between Fiji and Nouméa. It was a good broad reach in sunny weather, and I hung to the tiller all day in a building breeze, savoring what I figured will probably be my last spinnaker ride on Idefix. With our late departure, we managed another night-time arrival in Pittwater and found a decent spot to anchor before moving over to the Royal Prince Alfred Yacht Club. We spent a wonderful Aussie Christmas (uncommonly cold at about 24C) with friends of friends, and the little time that we haven’t spent with them, we’ve been cleaning the boat up in order to put her up for sale.
Our passage through the Great Sandy Strait needed to be quite quick, as I wanted to take advantage of the light swell and northerly winds to get out the Wide Bay Bar and down to Brisbane. However, navigating the twenty miles of shallows, sand banks and currents still took us a full day, and the mud brought us to a stop once, only a quarter mile from our anchorage. Thankfully We were only stuck for long enough to get the engine down and in reverse, and it was no trouble to find another, deeper channel. Our crossing of the bar the next morning was no trouble in the light conditions, and the northerlies blowing down the coast pushed us fast enough to get into Moreton Bay around midnight, far enough ahead of schedule to anchor for a bit of sleep. We then crossed the shallow Bay, entered the Brisbane River, and started the 17-mile trip up the winding river into the city itself. We anchored near Gardens Point, in the heart of the city, frighteningly close to a concrete wall and pilings, and set two anchors to keep us from swinging too much in the back-and-forth tidal currents.It was rather pleasant to be in the center of a big city, although we had to walk quite a ways to locate some showers. After a couple days of enjoying river scenery and the bustle of a big city, we set out again across Moreton Bay, and into the shallows at the Southern end of the Bay, reminiscent of the Great Sandy Strait. Here we found lots of mosquitoes and sand dunes, and managed to get stuck in the mud and sand a couple times again, never so deeply that we couldn’t extricate ourselves from it immediately. We’re now in the Gold Coast, a beach-city of hotels, condos and shopping malls, waiting for the southeasterly winds to switch to northerlies and the swell to die down a bit (the surfers must be enjoying themselves) so we can pass the bar and get South.