Category: Australia (Page 3 of 7)
Whitsundays – Hamilton Is to Airlie Beach
We had fallen in love with Hamilton Island, the facilities, the ambience, the food opportunities and the excellent service. There! All that and we aren’t even sponsored. It really is a great place to be. With great reluctance, we tore ourselves away to sail away for a day, while we waited for our booked helicopter flight out to the outer Great Barrier Reef.
Our sail took us through the Fitzalan Passage along the southern end of Whitsunday Island to Cid Harbour, a safe and calm anchorage in most winds. There are a number of suggested anchorages and shore based camp sites here, some connected by established walk trails. We went ashore to walk the Dugong Beach to Sawmill Beach trail, which snaked up and down the hill side through some really beautiful forest paths.
Cid Harbour, Whitsunday Island
The march flies saw us coming and prepared themselves. I had doused myself in insect repellant in case of sandflies so avoided most of the attacks. Christine, who is immune to the sandfly bite, hadn’t bothered and was subjected to wave after wave of kamikaze march flies. I had the wonderful experience of slapping Christine on the back with a thing every 30 seconds and killing dozens of the creatures. It was like a really good episode of “Buffey the March Fly Slayer”. The views were worth the effort, at least from my point of view. Christine was a little less impressed.
Sawmill Beach
The most amazing thing was the way Cid Harbour filled with boats. We are now well and truly in the heart of “bareboat charter country” and the number of boats on the water is beyond belief. We shared our anchorage with at least thirty boats. There is no going outside for a pee stark naked in this part of the world.
The next day we sailed back to Hamilton Island and resumed our decadent lifestyle, even taking a bus ride around the island to take in all the amazing apartments and properties.
Then it was off to Hardy Reef via helicopter. We had to go on separate flights because the best we could book at such short notice was the fill-in seats on booked flights. For me, this meant I got the front seat next to the pilot. Christine scored a second row seat but still with an excellent view. The flight proved a highlight of the entire trip. The Whitsundays are beautiful from the sea. From the air they are stunning. We got to fly over many of the places we would visit over the next week and get advance knowledge of the best spots to anchor and explore. It also brought home the sheer number of people and boats in the waters around the islands. Every protected anchorage had clusters of boats at anchor or on moorings and the various beaches had groups of people at play.
Christine’s chopper
Whitehaven Beach and Hill Inlet
Heart Reef
The flight over the Barrier Reef was even more impressive, bring in to sharp focus the amazing extent of the coral system. We did a couple of turns around the much publicised “Heart Reef”, more impressive in pictures than in reality. The reef platforms stretched endlessly in all directions, yet the Hardy-Hook system is just one of hundreds that make up the vast Great Barrier Reef. Our destination was Reef World, a floating platform anchored in the narrow channel between Hook Reef and Hardy Reef. It back right up onto the reef wall, rising steeply out of sixty feet to the exposed areas of the reef itself. This is where all the big fish live, with a huge 250kg groper, hump headed maori wrasse and 70kg giant trevally all living under the platform.
The Reef World platform
We joined the masses, who had arrived by boat, and donned stinger suits to snorkel over the corals. The danger from marine stingers at this time of year is probably low, the menace from sharks almost non-existent, but the danger from fellow snorkellers was extreme. We were kicked, bumped, head butted and ploughed into, all with much apology, but still very off-putting. There were simply too many people in the water, most with minimal swimming skills. The organisation was supberb, with all gear being washed throughly between uses, safety supervisors patrolling, lots of swimming aids and good safety briefings.
The crowds of snorkelers spread out along the reef wall.
Terry takes in the sights
A beautiful little butterfly fish
There is a semi-submersible coral viewing boat making continual 20 minute circuits of the reef wall, allowing those less confident swimmers a wonderful of the life of the coral community. When we went, the tide was quite high and we were able to get right over the reef top, providing a great view.
Lunch was a sumptuous affair, with a glorious smorgasbord of salads, meats and prawns. We were left with little choice but to do it justice. We even had an ice-cream to celebrate our successful sortie on the lunch.
The trip home was via the ferry, a large and fast catamaran. Once clear of the protection of the reef system, we had 20 nautical miles of open ocean to cross. The crew of the boat prepared themselves by stuffing their pockets full of sick bags and standing watch, trying to catch the suffering before they shared their smorgasbord with other travellers. It was rough, but relatively short lived, given the speed of the boat and soon we were inside the protection of Hook Island and swinging past Cid Harbour, where we had overnighted just a coupe of days before.
We left the joys of Hamilton Island once more and sailed off through the Fitzalan Passage to the famous Whitehaven Beach. This is a spectacular 7km long stretch of pure white silica sand and consistently scores in the top ranks of the “Best Beach in the World” ratings. It certainly was beautiful, with the hundreds of people lounging on the sands paying testimony to its many fine qualities. There were big private boats, small private boats (like us), big charter boats, big tour yachts, huge tour yachts, humungous tour boats, and them some that just defied description. The combined value of the boats anchored off Whitehaven Beach would have exceeded the GDP of some nations. Where the hell does all the money come from? The day trippers swarm like ants over the beach, ferried to and from the various yachts, oversize inflatable craft and luxury cruisers in small rubber ducks, crammed in to a point where a capsize seems inevitable.
Whitehaven Beach
The Whitsundays seems to be a bit of a retirement pasture for some of the famous 12 metre racing yachts. We saw Apollo, Southern Cross and Siska, each carrying groups of tourists sitting along the rail as the boats heeled under a full set of sails. They certainly looked good in the water, although the signs of age and wear were obvious.
Tongue Bay, Whitsunday Island
The next week was spent sailing from one incredible location to another, through numerous islands and bays, snorkelling across glorious corals and taking in the amazing ever changing vistas that the mountainous islands of the Whitsundays group offer. The amazing corals of Cateran Bay on the northern end of Border Island were a snorkelling highlight but then nowhere was a real disappointment. At Cateran Bay, we watched a beautiful big coal trout being picked clean of parasites by a couple of tiny cleaner wrasse and watched a gorgeous hawkesbill turtle swim by us totally unconcerned.
Hill Inlet
The sailing was generally easy, as long as we paid strict attention to the tides. The seas here can be really quite awful when the the wind is opposed to the tide, creating confused lumpy seas in areas one would otherwise expect to be protected. We sailed through areas of whirlpools and amazing tidal overfalls, all without mishap. Although these phenomena can look frightening and should not be treated lightly, their bark is usually worse than their bite and the experience of sailing through tidal rips is more exhilarating than scary.
Nara Inlet, Hook Island
When the weather turned a little nasty for three days or so, we holed up in the lovely Nara Inlet, a place that we came to know well. We even met a fellow West Aussie named Stewie and his two parents from Duncraig who were visiting at the time.
Collecting oysters
Oysters Kilpatrick at sunset
It was with great reluctance that we turned for the mainland, after 22 days at sea out of Mackay. The wonderful people at the Abel Point Marina at Airlie Beach made us feel most welcome and we certainly enjoyed the wonderful bar and restaurant facilities they offer.
Abel Point Marina, Airlie Beach
The final sunset, Airlie Beach
A day’s bus ride down to Mackay to retrieve the car and trailer and return saw our Whitsunday cruise at an end. It is hard to imagine that we had ever considered abandoning our long-held dream of sailing in these waters. I can see us coming back one day, probably renting a bareboat for a couple of weeks. The choice is unlimited, with catamarans seeming to be the most popular. Whether we return or not, this has been one big experience ticked off the long list.
We launched Sandpiper in Mackay Harbour, an excellent facility. Arrangements had been made with the Mackay Marine Tourist Park to take care of the car and trailer and a simple taxi ride brought me back to the marina to get us on our way. The first stop was the joint St Bees/Keswick Islands, a trip of some 17 nautical miles. The seas proved easy to handle, the trip totally enjoyable and the destination wonderful. We anchored in a gorgeous bay, with butterflies all around, a cacophony of bird calls coming from a heavily forested tropical beach. What more could anyone ask for.
The next few days followed the same pattern, sailing from island to island in calm seas with spectacular vistas all around.
A favourite was Brampton Island, once a glorious holiday resort, but now a sorry and abandoned shell of its former glory. A devastating cyclone in 2010 had wreaked damage on the jetty and adjoining light rail system, leaving the resort itself with a hefty repair bill. The high Aussie dollar and lure of cheap overseas holidays has obviously made investment in repairs too much. The resort sits waiting, with jet skis, surf cats, pool tables, made up rooms and all. All it needs is power, water and people.
Brampton Is
The once glorious pool.
The remains of the tramway that connected the jetty to the resort.
Later, we visited Lindeman Island and found it to be in much the same state, a piece of paradise awaiting a clientele. Apparently, there are more in the same situation, South Mole, Daydream etc. Perhaps the now falling Australian Dollar will help.
The empty Lindeman Island resort
The islands themselves are very scenic, most with mountain peaks 3-400 metres high. Ancient volcanic cores rise up out of some islands or sometimes straight from the sea, creating some stunning vista. Early morning often saw a cloud hanging off an island peak, creating a real South Seas effect. The vegetation ranges from tropical rainforest to dry scrub on some of the rockier islets. The hoop pine is common, a glorious tree reminiscent of a Norfolk Island pine but with fewer branches. The timber was prized as a boat building material and logging around 1900 saw the loss of much forest but after years of National Parks, many forests have come back well. Butterflies are everywhere, beautiful blue triangles, common swallowtails and monarchs. They are even common at sea.
The weather has been kind to us so far, with only one patch of rather blowy weather lasting three days out of our thirteen at sea and a couple of days of rain. During that time, we lay up in a lovely bay on Goldsmith Island, enjoying the company of Zane and Julie in their big catamaran. Their life was interesting, cruising with three dogs and two cats, which, unlike our cat Simon, were all well and truly alive.
High and dry, Goldsmith Island
The temperature has been beautiful and even the water is warm enough to swim in comfortably. We have bought ourselves some all over stinger suits to guard against the nasty jellyfish present in these waters. The real stinger season starts in November but stings have been recorded at other times. The pair of us encased in figure hugging body suits is not something that anyone else wants to share so we are fairly discreet.
Sailing through the southern islands was pretty quiet. Usually, we would share an anchorage with only one or two other boats, except at Brampton Island where we had a night with seven others. However, with school holidays on in Queensland, the northern islands around Whitsunday Island itself are very crowded, with more than thirty boats in Cid Harbour one night. Once north of Shaw Island, there was usually a sail or powerboat visible in every quarter of the horizon.
It is sad to say that large power boats have become the enemy. Even though we are power boat owners ourselves, it does seem that something happens to the psych of skippers. The more power they have, the less thoughtful they become. Some of the boats up here are more like small ships and they create really horrendous bow waves and wakes. In a narrow channel with limited manoeuvring space, a big vessel creating a series of breaking waves can wreak havoc with the small yachts like ours. Commercial operators too, seem to regard private vessels as fair game and that all channels belong exclusively to them.
Many of the boats we come across are bareboat charters, meaning that you hire the boat and skipper yourself. Amazingly, no qualifications are needed, other than to say that you have steered a boat before. We enjoy listening to the bareboat charter companies talk to their clients on the VHF. It goes something like this:
“Razzle Dazzle this is Fun Charters. What is your position? Over” “Gday mate. We are out at Border Island. It’s beautiful.” “Razzle Dazzle It might be nice now but there is no protection there. We have 15 to 20 knot south easterlies forecast.” “OK. We’ll think about it and see what happens this afternoon.” “Razzle Dazzle. I need you to move.” “Yes, we’ll discuss it. Where should we go?” “Razzle Dazzle, you might try Chalkies or anywhere that get protection from the south east. You can’t stay there.” “OK then and while we’ve got you, the fridge door catch is broken.”The radio operators for the charter companies have incredible patience.
The fishing has been ordinary. Despite the tropical climate and the abundance of coral, fish life seems scarce. The real fishing is much further out on the outer Barrier Reef but even that is only a shadow of its former glory days. I have managed to catch enough small reef fish to get us a feed when needed but as a sport is leaves a lot to be desired. According to locals, there are a lot of hours of input required to get much reward.
Navigating is all about the tides. The tidal range here is around 6 metres so the currents can run pretty quickly through the narrow channels between islands and reefs. If the wind is against the current, the waves build up rapidly so planning the trip accordingly is very important. So far, we haven’t had anything that has worried us so we must be doing something right.
As always, Christine has revelled in her cooking. She has a new addition to the arsenal in the form of a thermal cooker. It is like a large thermos flask that surrounds a couple of inner pots. She prepares the ingredients in the pots, fills the thermos with boiling water and lower the pots inside. Over the next six hours or so, the meal cooks itself. The system works very well and is ideal for sailing and camping. She also uses the thermal cooker as proving environment for bread making and the dough rises magnificently. There has been no shortage of great meals.
Lamb shanks done in the new thermal cooker.
Lamb burgers with boat baked whole grain buns.
Sandflies have been a bit friendly in places and I always seem to be nursing a few bites. I use Vicks Vapour rub to sooth the itching and it works well but after applying insect repellent, sun screen and Vicks Vapour Rub, the pores of my skin take a hammering.
A two day stay in the Marina at Hamilton Island was wonderful. After twelve days on the boat, a bit of luxury was most welcome and there is plenty of that available on Hamilton. A berth in the marina buys access to the whole island, including the facilities at the resort. The shops are varied, the bakery first rate and the prices quite acceptable. Regular free shuttle buses run around the island, making al parts easily accessible or electric golf carts can be hired by the day. Everyone was so helpful and friendly. There is no comparison with Rottnest. Hamilton rules.
Tiny Sandpiper nestled amongst the big boys at Hamilton Island
Relaxing at the pool, Hamilton Resort.
Overlooking Fitzalan Passage between Hamilton and Whitsunday Islands
We were very taken with an advertised helicopter flight and snorkelling trip out to Hardy Reef, one of the outer reefs. We organised a trip and booked a berth to return after a cays exploring Cid Harbour. More about that next time.
So far, the trip has been everything that we had dreamed of and has made the whole big trip over here so worthwhile. It is going to be very hard to tear ourselves away and leave. Fortunately, we still have time and there are lots more islands to visit.
Once our sail of the Great Sandy Straits and Fraser Island was finished, we had a week and a half before we were due to fly home to catch up with our commitments at the Dowerin Field Days. The weather forecast was full of rain, with a major rain event forecast for the intervening weekend. A big rain would be most welcome in SE Queensland and even more on the western side of the Great Divide. The forecast promised just such an event, so we put aside any thoughts of sailing again for a while and mapped out a touring session.
We had five priorities:
– Get back to Mooloolaba for the August PVI (Project Vietnam) meeting.
– Bed down Sandpiper for our trip home.
– Catch up with Jack and Jude, friends in Ballina, NSW
– Catch up with my Aunt Rube who lives on the Gold Coast
– Spend some time exploring Brisbane after an absence of 25 years.
Quite a bit of driving for ten days!
We spent a couple of days in Tin Can Bay, washing clothes, cleaning the boat, recharging etc. We met a wonderful couple, Gary and Trish, originally from Tasmania but now retired to Queensland. Their travel mode took the attention away from us with their wonderful three wheeled Harley and its amazing camper trailer. They camped next to us and we couldn’t believe how the tiny trailer expanded into a glorious canvas mansion. We enjoyed some great times together swapping yarns.
From Tin Can Bay, it was off back south to Maroochydore, to stay for the night in what must be one of the biggest caravan parks in Australia. If we were booked in for longer, we would have got the bikes out just to move around the park. On the one side is the beautiful Maroochydore Beach and on the other, the calm waters of the Maroochy River. The regulars watch the sunrise over the sea and sunset over the river. It is a very beautiful spot, but then too many people know about it and the place was booked solid. Checkin time was quite chaotic.
After a PVI meeting and a great session at the Maroochydore RSL with our friends from the Vietnam projects, we packed up in steady rain and headed off inland, climbing the mountain range up from Caboolture to Kilcoy, where we would leave Sandpiper for a few weeks. Our contacts, Steve and Denise, came through via the trailer sailer forum that we subscribe to. Steve had offered accommodation on his beautiful property just out of the town of Kilcoy in the Brisbane River Valley. The GPS took us to their property and we found the open gate, Steve and Denise being away in Brisbane for the day. We parked Sandpiper and got out of the car to take in a truly beautiful scene. The property is ringed with wonderful mountains. The house sits nestled under some enormous Moreton Bay fig trees and the neighbouring properties sport horses, goats and a few cattle. The mountains created a wonderful vista with rain squalls scudding across the peaks and the sun highlighting areas of forest on the slopes. This was a location to die for.
Steve and Denise arrived home in the afternoon and gave us a very warm welcome to their beautiful home. We spent some wonderful hours swapping sailing yarns, comparing trailer sailers (they have a lovely Noelex 25) and sampling the odd wine or two. We rapidly found that we had a lot in common with these terrific people. We have been so fortunate with the people we have met along the way. The trailer sailer community has certainly produced some very hospitable people.
Around Kilcoy
The next day, Steve and Denise took us on a tour of the area, showing off the glorious scenery to be had around the nearby Somerset Dam and the delightful hamlet of Esk, where we enjoyed a terrific lunch. The diet has taken a serious hit lately and things didn’t ease up that night once Christine, Denise and Steve collaborated to produce a meal that would have won any episode of My Kitchen Rules. I sat back and watched. After all, someone needs to be the judge. They scored 10s all round.
We said our farewells to Steve and Denise, locked down Sandpiper knowing she was in safe hands, and set off down the mountains back to Highway 1 to head south, through Brisbane and on towards NSW. The rain followed, unrelenting, making it hard to stop and enjoy the many charming little stops along the way. We tried exploring the Tweed Coast, but the rain was so heavy we had trouble driving, let alone stopping. We managed a stop in Byron Bay, but half the population of the area was in town trying to find something to do other than watching it rain and the CBD was a real crush.
Eventually, we made our way to Ballina on the Richmond River and followed the GPS to find the house of our friends Jack and Jude, who we had met in Monkey Mia in 2013. They were anchored there waiting on a weather window to head south in their yacht Banyandah (www.jackandjude.com). We spent a few days together and quickly became good friends. Jack and Jude live in a beautiful self built house just out of Ballina in the middle of a sugar cane growing area. The cane is all around an the river across the road so the setting is quite charming. Jack used to be a joiner working with native timbers so the house is alive with marvellous grains and timber tones.
The rain had followed us south and continued for a day, soaking the ground but not causing any local flooding. It did keep us pretty much confined to barracks. We all did enough talking to keep everyone happy, although Jude’s voice started to disappear down to a hoarse whisper. Once again, we dined like kings, enjoyed a few wines and slept well. This is becoming a habit.
The rain cleared, giving us the chance to get out and see something of the area. Jack did a terrific job of playing tour guide while Jude navigated, taking us to the head of the Richmond River to watch the swell push across the bar. It is not a place I would like to be in a boat and there have been a few boats come to grief over the years. From there, we drove up into the hills to walk around a small patch of rainforest, one of the last remaining stands. The forest was beautiful, with some really big strangler figs and a variety of hardwoods. One very common plant was known as “waitawhile”. It grew to around shoulder height and put out a fine long tendril at the top, fully armed with rows of tiny sandpaper-like teeth. If you brush against it, there is no choice. You “wait-a-while”.
Jack and Jude’s in Ballina
Our drive wove through the hills and we stopped in a small town to catch up with one of Jack and Jude’s sons and his family. With young boys in abundance, I could see Christine becoming jumpy to get home and see our own tribe. Watching Jack play all manner of crazy games with his grandsons even made me a little homesick. Still, only a week to go.
After a stop at a cute little country pub for a refreshing ale, it was back down the hills to Ballina, where we stopped at a seafood outlet to pick up a kilo of fresh local prawns. Christine spied some gorgeous scallops in the shell at a bargain $10 a kilo so we decided to have a real seafood feast. Jude and Christine had terrific fun in the kitchen creating a culinary masterpiece so once again we let the diet rest. There is going to have to be a lot more bike riding.
We left Jack and Jude the next morning and pushed on back northwards, through Ballina and on to the Gold Coast to catch up with my Aunt Rube. She is in her 80s but looks and acts much younger, as she always has. Rube lives in a park home right on the beautiful Nerang River next to Metricon Stadium, home of the Gold Coast Suns and venue for the 2018 Commonwealth Games. It was a visit to her way back in 1989 that convinced us that the park home concept is a good one and led to us buying our Kingsley park home.
As always, Rube hadn’t changed and we spent the afternoon catching up on all the news and filling her in on family matters. Then it was off over the road for a drink and meal at the golf club. It was a popular venue and very handy to Rube’s place. In four years time, this part of the Gold Coast will be really humming and Rube will be very well placed. Imagine being able to walk to the games! We may have to visit again.
The Gold Coast
The next morning, Christine and I checked out of our motel, parked the car down at the Pacific Fair shopping centre and hopped on to the new tram. The service has only just commenced, having been a few years in construction and the subject of much controversy. The line runs straight down the Gold Coast Hwy and its construction proved very disruptive to the businesses along the way, particularly those in Surfers Paradise. However, the project also included upgrades to roads, footpaths and cycle paths so the result to quite stunning. The whole length from Broadbeach through Surfers and down to Southport is now integrated and looks really great, a definite improvement. The tram is excellent, with long carriages giving plenty of room and enough stops to make it a very convenient way of moving up and down the beach areas. Of course, we used our Senior status to get cheap fares.
After wandering around Surfers and checking out the beach (too cold for swimming), we caught the tram back and took off to Brisbane for a stay of three days.
We booked the RFH on Gregory, a set of serviced apartments really well located in Spring Hill, only a kilometre from the Queen St Mall and other inner city attractions. The room is excellent value and at $99 for the location with views represents a bargain. We later found out that it is owned and run by the CWA. The car proved too high for the underground but we found outside parking. We intended on leaving it there for the stay, determined to walk and cycle where ever possible. A quick tour of the immediate vicinity, however, showed us just how hilly Brisbane can be. We might be doing a bit of pushing with the bikes. The afternoon was a lazy one, the last few days catching up with us a bit.
The weather was forecast to be fine so we planned a full day of exploring the city by bike. From the hotel, we followed the rail line down through parkland to Roma Street Station, Brisbane’s central station, and then rode through the beautiful Roma Street Gardens. Ahead was the towering skyline of downtown Brisbane, where glass and steel monsters tower over some delightful old sandstone masterpieces. We parked up the bikes in King George Square and walked for a while. The CBD has many squares, malls and open spaces, giving the city a light and airy feel. We wandered around the Queens Street Mall, so named but spreading over a couple of other streets as well.
Down in Post Office Square, an extensive produce market had been set up, only operating on Wednesdays. This has to be the best street food market we have seen anywhere. The food was mostly home baked or organically grown, with a lot of really interesting dishes on sale. We had a great time wandering from stall to stall, sampling bits and pieces. We bought a sugarless desert made with chia seeds soaked in almond milk. The chia soaks up the milk, swelling into a soft jelly-like substance reminiscent of tapioca. Dotted with blueberries and topped with ground coconut, it made a refreshing change.
We made our way back to the bikes and walked them down to the river, stopping back at the markets to tuck into a serving of paella. The paella stall had four huge pans on the go at once, cooking up different paellas. At $10 for a serve big enough to feed us both, they rightfully did a roaring trade.
The river is a real bonus when it comes to moving around, with several types of ferries always on hand. The little red City Hopper is a free ride to a few tourist stops down river, the City Ferries a fleet of tiny slow boats that connect a few inner suburbs with the CBD and the City Cats are big high speed jobs that run from the University through the city and well downstream. We rode a City Cat for a while around Kangaroo Point and under the beautiful Storey Bridge to get out at Sydney Street and wait for a return trip. We alighted at Southbank and spent a while cycling along the foreshore and doing some serious people watching. It is rather amusing to see all the people sunning themselves in bikinis and bathers on the sands of the artificial beach on Southbank. A few brave souls were swimming but the temperature wasn’t all that conducive to water based recreation. It is amazing though, that if you create a patch of white sand alongside a strip of water, people will come and remove most of their clothes then lie down. It goes without saying.
Brisbane CBD
A stop for a beer by the river cost us almost as much as the flight home, but then you tend to get that in places along any stretch of water. The ambience made up for the cost and the beer tasted great after all the walking and riding.
Our ride took us up over the Victoria Bridge back through the market so we had no choice but to stop and buy a selection of pepperonis and salamis, after sampling them all of course. Our return to the hotel largely followed the trip down, although we got a bit lost in the Roma Street Gardens. This was actually a good thing because it meant that we covered all parts of the gardens. They are arranged in differing bio-zones and we found ourselves down in the fernery area, a dark and tropical area with enormous tree ferns. Large water dragons are common in the gardens and have so little fear of humans we sometimes had to ride around them. Back in the hotel, we crashed.
Our second full day in Brisbane was similar to the first, except we left the bikes at home and did a lot of walking. The first place we explored was Fortitude Valley, which takes in China Town. “The Valley” has probably seen better times and parts looked quite run down, with many empty businesses. The China Town was a disappointment, although it might be more interesting at night or a weekend market. The huge McWhirters shopping centre was an interesting building, reflecting its past glories that used to see it as one of the major department store complexes in the city. Back in 1909, this store employed 270 people but today it looks sad and run down.
Having walked enough, we jumped on a bus to get back into the CBD. Unfortunately, it stopped at a ferry jetty along the way and when the driver turned the engine off and got out for a smoke, we figured that it was time to switch transport modes. It was back to the ferry system for us. We have had trouble getting a full handle on Brisbane’s public transport system. The ferries are easy enough but the buses remain a mystery. They have a free system around the CBD but it isn’t as simple as Perth’s CAT or as well signed. Even the ferry let us down, forcing us to change ferries after one leg of our journey so it could refuel. Still, we had plenty of time.
The lunchtime rush was in full swing in the CBD. All the walking had produced a hunger so we found a large food hall area and perused the usual fare. One stall stood out, selling a strangely named Bimbi Asian Streetfood, which turned out to be like a Turkish Kebab with Asian innards and a soft wheat based wrap. Delicious.
We managed to locate the bus that would return us up to the hotel in Spring Hill, which was a good thing because the journey was mostly up hill. Once again, we got in to the room and collapsed, a sure sign that we had done enough walking.
Tomorrow we fly home, leaving the car at the Brisbane airport. The grandchildren await.
Our route through the Great Sandy Straits and return
We launched Sandpiper at Crab Creek near Tin Can Bay on Friday 1 August, the first time back on the water since Jervis Bay back in June. We did almost everything right and launched without incident, then motored our way down the tiny channel to deeper water. Tin Can Bay isn’t really a bay as such, but rather a series of deep mangrove inlets with associated creeks feeding into it. We followed the system north to overnight in a lovely spot called Pelican Bay. From here, we could see the steady parade of 4WDs lining up on the beach to cross over on the barge to Fraser Island. Beyond that lay the notorious Wide Bay Bar and the Coral Sea.
The Great Sandy Straits separate Fraser Island from the mainland. They are mostly shallow and low lying islands and mangrove thickets abound. A few deep channels travel the length of the straits and most are well marked with navigation aids. Sailing through the Great Sandy Straits is like navigating a hire car through a European city. It is a two person job, one on the tiller and the other keeping an eye on the chart and another eye out for the next mark. We had purchased a wonderful guide book published by the Queensland Government called “Beacon to Beacon” that became our bible for the ten days we were on the water. The scenery is constantly changing and the tidal races in the narrower channels are beautiful. In warmer weather, it would be a truly wonderful place, but for us, it was spoilt by the terrible weather we had to endure.
Most tourists get to see Fraser Island from the perspective of its eastern coast, a vast hard sand beach running the length of the island. Moving the length of the island is relatively easy with a 4WD. From the eastern beach, a number of tracks lead inland and criss cross the island, leading to various camping sites, beautiful fresh water lakes, rainforest pockets and abandoned logging mills. Most of the island is covered with glorious forest, once heavily logged, but now sporting an excellent coverage of regrowth. There is satinay, blackbutt, blue gum, scribbly gum, kauri pine, cyprus, banksia and many more species in abundance. Three accommodation areas have been established, each catering for different budgets. Eurong and Dili Village are on the eastern beach side of the island and Kingfisher Bay is the ritzy spot on the mainland side.
No swimming in the Coral Sea today thank you
Barge landing at Kingfisher Bay
We ended up spending a bit of time at Kingfisher Bay Resort, at least anchored off shore from it. The place is welcoming of cruising people and in the summer would provide some great relief in the form of a pool and restaurant right down near the water. Another barge operates here, coming from River Heads near Urangan, and we found the comings and goings of the cars, trucks and buses to be an entertaining spectator sport. The barge actually comes in to a jetty then drops it vehicle ramp onto a specially built ramp, half way along. The vehicles rattle their way along the jetty. The jetty also serves as a fishing platform for the resort hopefuls. We often saw a very keen fisherman, the kind that wears a jacket adorned with the logos of fishing tackle suppliers, marching back and forth across the jetty directing his three very young boys in their fishing endeavours.
Our anchorage from the Jetty Bar (where else?)
They were charged with catching his live bait and weren’t allowed to slack off at all. “You won’t catch a fish if you’re not in the water!” he admonished one boy. Christine was beside herself watching such young children be allowed to fish on the edge of a 5 metre high jetty with so little supervision.
The beautiful architecture of the resort itself.
Each day is bound around what clothing to wear, finding beanies, wet weather jackets, warm leggings etc. On a couple of occasions we got down to shorts and T-shirt, but these times were short lived, before the icy southerly started up again or the grey clouds and rain rolled in. When we had to go ashore, we dreaded having to put our feet in the water because it was so cold.
Perhaps Toyota would like to sponsor us.
From Kingfisher Bay Resort, we hired a Land Cruiser for half a day and toured parts of the island. The forests were everything that was written about them, lush, green and incredibly beautiful. On the day we went, the eastern beach was a horror place, with many lines of huge breakers crashing down and a piping cold south easterly wind making life there unpleasant. The tracks across the island are pure sand, so undulating that the imposed 30km/hr speed limit makes perfect sense. Once on the beach, the limit blows out to 60km/hr but in our case we had to keep slowing to cross the numerous freshwater runoffs caused by all the recent rain.
Beautiful rainforest near Central Station
Our favourite place was the strangely name Central Station, which I assumed to be just a ranger station, but proved to be the site of a small town and saw mill, operating in some form right up until 1992, when all logging ceased. There were a lot of very interesting displays, that showed the history of saw milling and logging on the island. The kauri pines and cyprus could be rafted out along the creeks and towed to the mainland, but the hard woods needed to be barged out. McKenzies Jetty, the ruins of which we had sailed past earlier, was built for just such a purpose.
From Central Station, there are a number of walk trails of varying length, but time was short and we had to content ourselves with a short walk along a wonderful wooden boardwalk built along the valley formed by Wanggoolba Creek. The vegetation was breath taking, with the most amazing birds-nest ferns clinging to the trunks of the towering trees and long streaming arboreal orchids in abundance. The creek itself was crystal clear, even after the heavy rain, the water having been thoroughly filtered through all the sand.
Kauri Pine regrowth, Central Sation
We had two main wildlife targets in the area. Fraser Island is famous for its dingoes. It is hardly possible to land anywhere on the island without seeing the warning signs about these savage creatures. We studied up on the drills, mentally focussing on the guidelines about keeping arms in close to the body, standing back to back, avoiding baying like a wolf and not carrying dog biscuits in your pockets. Alas, we didn’t see a dingo. Even on our trip around the island, visiting touristy areas where they are said to lie in wait, we avoided them. Once, while fishing near a beach, a lone female wandered down to check out if I’d left any bait, but because Christine didn’t see it, we can’t count it. It is now official! The Fraser Island dingoes are extinct. (Note: Two days after leaving Fraser, a man was stalked and attacked by three dingoes on one of the eastern beaches. Perhaps we were lucky not to encounter them.)
The other icon of the area is the Hervey Bay Humpback Whale. Ever since I first saw a documentary of Mimi McPherson, that lesser known sister of Elle, running whale watching tours in Hervey Bay, I wanted to come here. The hype is huge, the pictures glorious, the tourist potential unlimited. However, we didn’t see a whale. We sailed into Hervey Bay. Christine had listened to the latest radio whale report and we sailed right through the area where they were reported to be hanging out but they must have decided that a meeting with Sandpiper was not to be. Unfortunately, the weather conditions meant that we couldn’t give them a second chance so the humpbacks of Hervey Bay are also declared extinct.
Garry’s Anchorage. Our little floating salad garden is getting some sunshine.
We enjoyed some lovely anchorages, notably the popular Garry’s Anchorage, which is in a narrow channel between Fraser Island and Stewart Island. Weather conditions kept us in this lovely spot for a few days. The collection of 6 or 7 boats in the anchorage would have accounted for quite a few million dollars, of which our contribution was minimal. The size and number of luxury boats in the this part of the World is amazing. Catamarans are particularly common, mostly ranging between 9 and 12 meters. At times, while sailing through the straits, we could see five or six vessels doing what we were. I can’t imagine how busy it gets in peak times.
Deep Creek, Ungowa
Another beautiful anchorage was at a place called Ungowa, once the site of a milling and sand exporting port. A number of wrecks lies on the beac or up Deep Creek, one being the Ceratondus, a sand carrying barge.
The Great Sandy Straits are excellent cruising waters, with plenty of safe anchorages, scenery to die for, excellent fishing and lots of wild life. I can see that crowds could be a definite problem but then that it happening everywhere these days. The area certainly deserves its World Heritage status.
Relocating to Somewhere Warmer
We flew back into Sydney from Perth and drove through the early evening and night south to Shellharbour, where we had left Sandpiper. The drive was a worry because I didn’t really know how the idea of driving on an unlit four lane highway through mountains would go at night. How would the visibility be? How much high beam can one use? Fortunately, the traffic was heavy enough that we always had the lights of other cars in range so we could see the twisting winding road ahead.
At Shellharbour, we set up the little tent and plugged in the $14 electric heater to ward off the worst of the freezing cold. Then we hit the local for dinner and filled up on carbs in a big way before heading home and crawling into bed.
The boat had been well looked after in a storage at Albion Park Rail and we had few issues hitching up and heading north, back through Sydney. The drive was reasonable easy, with only one false exit from the motorway (good for us) and relatively few nasty traffic filled roads. Crossing the harbour was a big step, moving us on into a different part of the World and a different stage of our journey.
The beautiful Lane Cove River Tourist Park
We pushed on through the city to Lane Cove River Tourist Park. What a wonderful place, a small patch of wilderness eating into the hustle and bustle of north shore Sydney.The Lane Cove River is a lovely little waterway nestled in a beautiful forest filled with tall eucalypts and huge tree ferns. There are numerous well defined walk trails and lots of signage to educate the ignorant on the many things to see and experience. We had a ball, marvelling at the many bush turkeys wandering around, the huge brush tailed possum that came aboard for a visit and the rainbow lorikeets that will happily sit on your hands or head.
Our purpose for stopping in Sydney was to pick up our auto pilot, which had been repaired at the Raymarine headquarters in French’s Forest. Having navigated our way there and picked up the repaired equipment, we pushed on to the beach at Dee Why, a charming place, packed to the hilt with coffee clubs and restaurants. We treated ourselves to yet another hit of carbs that we didn’t need and made solemn promises about increasing the exercise regime.
We loved the huge tree ferns on the river walk.
From Sydney, we made a 100km dash north through Kuring-Gai. Here the M1 acts like a giant roller coaster, with enormous climbs from the river and creek crossings to the equally scary long sweeping drops down to the next valley. We were very glad that we had the big V8 diesel to give us the oomph we needed to tow Sandpiper on this leg. Our target was Newcastle, full-filling a long held promise to drop in on some friends from Kalumburu days. David and Coral are a part of our good times in Kalumburu and we looked forward to catching up with them. We chose to stay in Stockton, over the Hunter River from the Newcastle CBD, which was easily accessible by a regular ferry service.
Newcastle is the World’s busiest coal port.
Our friends picked us up at the ferry terminal and gave us an afternoon’s “Cook’s Tour” of Newcastle, along with the obligatory stop for a beer on the beachfront. I must say, David was very successful in selling Newcastle, and dispelling my pre-conceived image of an industrial city of little merit. The “new” Newcastle is a place well worth visiting in its own right, with some incredible beach vistas, some beautiful old street-scapes and plenty of interesting eateries. It is not just all about the Hunter Valley. Newcastle is worth a visit.
The cute little ferry makes a regular crossing from Newcastle to Stockton.
Newcastle boasts some beautiful old street scapes.
It was so good to catch up with two very genuine people and it was with regret that we left the next morning and continued north, seeking warmer climes. The idea was to drive until we could see people swimming without wetsuits, and by the Sunshine Coast, at Mooloolaba, we found the spot.
Besides the warmth, the other reason for stopping along the Sunshine Coast was to catch up with some other great friends from Project Vietnam. PVI is largely a Sunshine Coast organisation, with a few other members scattered around the country. The members come from the surrounding areas of Mooloolaba, Maroochydore, Noosa, Caloundra, Paloma and many other spots along this beautiful stretch of coastline. The Sunshine Coast is like the Gold Coast on a “chill pill”. The towers are smaller and less numerous, the pace is slower, the people on the street are less scary. The Gold Coast reminds me of the 51st state of the USA. The Sunshine Coast is definitely Oz.
The beach front at Mooloolaba
Within minutes of posting our arrival on Facebook, the phone calls came in and we arranged some meets with some terrific contacts from PVI. The next few days were hectic, what with catching up with friends, riding our bikes along the beach front, sampling the many culinary delights of the area and chatting to all the fellow grey nomads in the Mooloolaba Beach Caravan Park. We seemed to be a bit of magnet for fellow yachties, although Christine did point out that all the people stopping to chat for long periods were male. The place had to be a tight community, because the whole caravan park was designed for the 14 and 15 foot caravans of the 1970s and not the 25 foot monsters of today. Every day, there was a cooperative effort to get someone in or out of a spot, with cars shuffling, lots of directing and much discussion about the old days. Throughout all the chaos, we managed to maintain our self belief that we were among the young ones on the plot. Some day that belief may falter.
Our PVI friend Glen, had invited us out for a very casual Wednesday yacht race with the Mooloolaba Yacht Club on a friend’s 39 foot Contessa named Shiraz. With Christine aboard a yacht called Shiraz, we were certain to win, as we did, beating the other four boats on the day. We ended up with a crew of six, so no one was over taxed on the day and we all enjoyed a lovely sail around the island and back into the harbour. On the downwind leg, Glen somehow produced a birthday cake to celebrate Christine’s 60th. What a wonderful birthday! The prize for winning was a bottle of Bundy, but since we aren’t rum lovers, Christine declined the prize, leaving Glenn well pleased. We added to his cheers with a bottle of Ord River Rum that we had been carrying around unopened since a visit to Kununurra in 2010.
After a couple of beers at The Wharf, we crawled our way home across the road to the caravan park, to hit the traditional “5sies” with Glen and Jan from Tassie, who were camped next to us. They were another couple of sensibly retired teachers and full of great yarns. Somehow, we still managed to drag our way out to enjoy a birthday meal of fish and chips at the Wharf before collapsing in bed.
The next morning, we packed and pulled out of Mooloolaba and headed north along the Bruce Highway to Tin Can Bay. The name of the place intrigued me. A special message in an old can? The last survivor’s meal? No! The place was known in indigenous term as Tincanbar, and it somehow got translated very badly. You get that. Tin Can Bay for us was to be the gateway to the Great Sandy Straits, the wonderful stretch of water that separates Fraser Island from the mainland. Fraser Island is the World’s largest sand island, and an absolute must see destination in itself. We can’t wait to get back on the water and explore the riches that await.
15-18 June Shellharbour NSW
We spent a few days exploring the Illawarra Region, which encompasses Wollongong, Shellharbour, Kiama and a host of other smaller places. The area is dominated by Lake Illawarra with Wollongong situated n its northern shore and Shellharbour to the south. Everything seems to cling to a very narrow coastal plain, with spectacular views of the Great Divide from most places. Flat land is scarce and most towns and housing developments are perched on the slopes of the numerous coastal hills and peaks. We didn’t get the bikes out.
Shellharbour Village
Shellharbour has two distinct faces. Shellharbour Village is the old town, with some quaint old buildings, an excellent Art Deco Hotel from 1929 and a wonderful cafe and restaurant strip on the main street. Food prices are excellent for a seaside village and the ocean provides plenty of first class views. Shellharbour City is the opposite. Glittering new shopping centres and fast food outlets abound and the ubiquitous Bunnings makes its presence felt. The Stockland Shellharbour shopping mall boasts over 220 shops but we might as well have been anywhere in Australia because it seems like almost everything is part of a chain or franchise these days making one shopping mall much like another. Our favourite place was the fish markets, certainly the best we ever encountered. The produce was cheap, fresh and well labelled. Unfortunately, we were on count-down to flying home so we didn’t need any seafood.
Kiama was a very picturesque town with a marvelous historical strip of police station, court house and hotel providing a wonderful streetscape. The coastal scenery was equally impressive and we admired the couple of active blow holes. The main one near the lighthouse was not nearly as active as “The Little Blowhole”, which shot several huge eruptions skywards.
Quaint Kiama
The Little Blowhole, Kiama
Some Sunday Markets at Dapto lured us, promising a huge collection of stalls and “garage sales”. We love markets but this one disappointed, largely due to the cold and wet weather. Many stalls were abandoning their spot and packing up. The place was full of some very strange people who used some very colourful language. We bought some socks and some excellent olives before heading off to find the Air Museum at Albion Park Rail. Along the way we passed the storage place that we have planned to leave Sandpiper for our trip home so we dropped in to organise things. While chatting to the girl at the counter, we mentioned that we had been to the markets at Dapto and she stared at us in amazement. “What did you do that for?” she asked. We could see her point. The Air Museum was closed for renovations so we just went back to Sandpiper.
Our favourite haunt, the Ocean Beach Hotel in Shellharbour Village
We used the local bus system to go into Wollongong for the day, partly to simply check it out and partly to ensure that we knew all about the buses and trains to access Sydney for an upcoming three day trip. Being a senior, I took advantage of the $2.50 all day pass, that will be even accepted for the train trip to Sydney, along with all trams and ferries in Sydney. Christine is a month and a half too young to have such bonuses.
Wollongong struck us as one of Australia’s ugly cities. There are parts that have redeeming features, such as the area down near the quaint little harbour and Flagstaff Hill, but elsewhere some really awful examples of 1960s and 1970s architecture clash with unkempt older buildings. Smother the whole lot in advertising signage and graffiti and you get the picture. The streets seem full of people who look as though they live there. Given the high cost of tattoos and piercings, one would think that everyone had jobs because we seemed to be the only unmarked or untagged people around. However, the Illawarra has the highest rate of unemployment in the country, currently running at a staggering 22%. We also noticed the prevalence of martial arts studios, along with a “free fight gym” and a “body building supplements warehouse”. Wollongong just did not grab us at all. Give us the outlying areas any day.
Wollongong Harbour (good fish and chips)
18 to 21 June – Sydney
We dropped the Land Cruiser off at Shellharbour Automotive for a few minor repairs and adjustments then caught the bus into Wollongong to catch the train to Sydney. We had planned carefully, giving ourselves just enough time to get off the bus and access the station. Trains run on the hour but we were anxious to avoid the long wait. After alighting from the bus and walking up hill for 10 minutes or so, we both had to admit that nothing looked familiar. A quick consult of Google Maps had us heading downhill again with Christine’s knee complaining and my ankle on a knife’s edge. Somehow, we managed to make the station with 5 minutes to spare and got on to the train. Christine, being a mere 59 years old, had to pay $13 for the privilege whereas I, as a senior with grey hair to prove it, got away with a $2.50 ticket that gives me a whole day’s travel on any form of transport between Newcastle and Wollongong. Christine can’t wait for her birthday.
The train trip is one of the best we have had, rivaling the Hue to Danang leg in Vietnam. The track winds along the edge of the Great Divide, through beautiful eucalypt forests and patches of rainforest. There were wonderful displays of tree ferns and bird’s nest ferns and some amazing high crossings over deep river valleys. Coal mines, both abandoned and working, dotted the escarpments. It is a terrific train trip and probably taken for granted by the majority of commuters that travel the line.
Once in Sydney itself, we left the train at Central Station and transferred to a City Circle train to get to Wynard, giving us a short walk to our hotel, the City Hotel Enterprise in Clarence Street. This is a small boutique hotel in an excellent location, with easy walking access to Darling Harbour, Circular Quay and China Town. The room wasn’t ready for us so we left our backpacks and walked for a while to get our bearings before finding lunch. Our last visit to Sydney was in 1989 so we had a bit to catch up on.
Once settled in to our room, we relaxed for a while. A friend from Project Vietnam, Corrado, rang to say he was downstairs with his wife Han, a lovely girl from Ho Chi Minh City. We caught up with them and walked the short distance to Darling Harbour where we completed a circuit, stopping at two establishments to eat and have a few drinks. It was good to catch up with Corrado again and meet his wife, who is settling in to her new life in Australia very well.
With Corrado and Han in Darling Harbour
An early rise was called for because we had booked a day tour with a company called Oz Trails, having seen a brochure in the hotel foyer. This tour proved an absolute winner. We were picked up in a minibus just around the corner from the hotel and joined an amazingly cohesive yet very cosmopolitan group of 24. There were several US citizens, including a very entertaining African American from LA, a lovely young girl from Antigua who is currently studying in Melbourne, a very nice family from India, a backpacker from Wales, a family from Singapore and a couple more that we think were from Hong Kong. Our driver/guide was a wonderfully knowledgeable and funny guy named Les. He clearly loves his job and he displayed an amazing knowledge of the history of Sydney and the Blue Mountains. He had been to the State of Origin Rugby the night before and was still sporting his blue and white fake dreadlocks as evidence.
The tour took us through Sydney’s Western suburbs (through some absolutely dreadful traffic) to the Blue Mountains. Having climbed the escarpment, Les took us to a lookout over the Jamieson Valley and we were completely blown away by the sight. A thick layer of cloud lay across the valley about 100 metres below us, creating a vision that rates number one in all time great natural wonders for us. One guy who had been to the Grand Canyon told us that this was better by several degrees but he may have been taken away by the moment. It was a staggering sight. Much to Christine’s horror, I crawled across to sit on the ledge, suspended over an awesome drop into the clouds below. It felt completely safe and secure, yet strangely, when I saw others do the same thing, I couldn’t bear to watch, especially the girl doing the one-legged yoga pose.
It is only a short jump to the top of the World
We tore ourselves away from the glory of the valley and Les drove us around to the opposite side, to Scenic World in Katoomba. We were last here in 1989 and things have changed considerably. There are now two cable cars, one crossing the gorge in front of Katoomba Falls and The Three Sisters and another bringing people back up from the valley below. The cable car had been upgraded to handle more passengers and now features a glass floor so you can have the thrill of looking past your feet to the tree tops far below. The cloud fill was still present but showing signs of lifting.
The Katoomba Rail
We took the cable railway down the cliff at a staggering 52 degree fall to the ledge that provided access to the myriad coal mines that honeycomb the cliffs. The last mine closed in the 1930s but the rail remains, giving tourists a thrill ride up and down the escarpment. At the bottom, Les took us on a very informative guided walk through the rainforest, stopping frequently to fill us in on history or items of natural wonder. We failed to see or hear any sign of a lyre bird so that Aussie icon remains un-ticked on our list. The walk is very well documented with signage and even a few sculptures depicting things from the coal mining days. A cable car took us up over the forest again back to the top. The great thing about Scenic World is that it is a one fee entry, giving unlimited access to the three rides. We took another ride up and down the cable railway, enjoying the feeling of being dropped over the edge of the cliff. The place is excellent value, given that there are literally kilometres of wonderful walk trails that we did not have time to explore.
From Katoomba, we headed to the small village of Leura, developed towards the end of the Nineteenth Century as a weekend getaway for the well to do Sydney siders. It is filled with lovely old houses and streetscapes lined with beautiful deciduous trees. I am sure that autumn is something special. We found a bite to eat at one of the many cafes, perused a few antique shops and wandered through the sweet shop, surely one of the best anywhere. Once back on the bus, it was clear that the sweet shop was a hit with a lot of the group, with exclamations of, “I never thought I’d find THESE in Australia.” There were musk sticks, Jaffas, Hershey Bars and Starburst Gummy Bears and all sorts of things being passed around the bus.
Wentworth Falls
The next stop was the beautiful Wentworth Falls, which require a 250 step downward march to see from a lookout. The base of the falls is another 1200 steps down but we didn’t have time for that thank God. We spent a bit of time admiring the falls and photographing young people doing Toyota jumps before trudging back up the steps. We took in an aboriginal petroglyph of a kangaroo prior to driving down out of the mountains again to the plains below.
We were to complete the tour on a ferry leaving from the Olympic Ferry Landing at Homebush so Les gave us a driving tour of the Olympic facilities. It is good to see that the whole complex is being used well and that there is no sign of the big white elephant. The ferry ride was a bit of a disappointment because the sun was setting rapidly and it was almost too cold to sit outside. The final part of the trip, into Darling Harbour, gave us some spectacular views of the Harbour Bridge and the CBD skyline. We were able to get off the ferry and complete an easy walk to our hotel in Clarence St, with only a brief stop along the way for a beer. It was a long but excellent day. The whole tour was only $79 each with another $35 for the Scenic World rides. It is so good to find some tourist attractions in Australia that are realistically priced.
We had a day in Sydney chasing up some items needing repair for Sandpiper. Our autopilot has ceased to function so we had to find a way out to an address in French’s Forest to drop it in to the Raymarine service centre. This took us across the harbor to Manly via the ferry, always a terrific ride. The weather was perfect and the seas flat, giving us some terrific views of the harbour. The bridge appeared smaller than I remembered it, possibly because I have seen so many big structures since 1989 and one’s perspective changes. Never the less, it is an amazing thing and deserving of the hype. Some iconic sights are better “in the flesh” than in photographs (eg Uluru) but the Opera House isn’t one of them. These iconic clam shells are beautiful in photographs but small and a bit pathetic in the flesh. The Opera House contributes to the whole harbour effect, working in conjunction with the bridge, Circular Quay, the Sydney Tower and the buildings of the CBD. Sydney wouldn’t be Sydney without it but by itself, the Opera House struggles.
This is not Sandpiper.
Another excursion required us to find a Whitworths Marine store in Drummoyne, which had imported into its stock some much needed parts for our Power Winch. A bus trip took us out past the huge Sydney Fish Markets and across the beautiful Anzac Bridge. It is actually quite a lot of fun to pick a place in a strange city and do the research of how to access it via public transport then navigate around. It was a challenge. We were sorry that time did not permit a tour of the fish markets, a sojourn we always appreciate.
We also enjoyed the delights of Paddy’s Market and the nearby China Town. Sydney’s China Town is very extensive and boasts of being the largest in Australia. Friday night is wonderful, with the Dixon St mall providing an endless selection of great street foods and small market stalls. The numerous Asian restaurants in the area all competed to provide an array of well priced menus. We grabbed a stomach filling supply of delicious snacks and headed back to the comfort and warmth of the hotel room. We gorged on deep fried crab things, prawns on sticks, an amazing noodle dish and other assorted things that we had already forgotten the name of. This is fine dining at its best.
Sydney represents somewhat of an enigma to us. It is always being compared and contrasted to Melbourne. We can only judge them each from a tourist perspective. Sydney wins hands down in the visual department, although Melbourne can counter with an amazing number of spectacular photographic vistas. The problem we have found with Sydney is that if you step away from the harbor, the city is so closed in as to be claustrophobic, whereas Melbourne is so wonderfully open. Its wide streets and long square grid plan makes moving around the CBD a dream whereas movement in Sydney largely consists of waiting at traffic lights. The labyrinth of narrow roads is choked with buses and cars all wishing to be somewhere else in a hurry. Sydney also seems to have been far less protective of its heritage architecture over the years and sports some serious faux pas in terms of the old and the new. On balance, Melbourne is the winner for us.
There was never a shortage of people on the streets of Sydney.
From here, it is back to Shellharbour to bed Sandpiper down for a month’s rest so we can head home to Perth to see our darling grandchildren. On our return, the weather will drive us north to warmer climes, but that is a story in the making.
7 & 8 June – Bairnsdale to Canberra
After a couple of days in Bairnsdale, mostly spent cleaning the boat and doing a few minor bits of maintenance, we hit the road again heading north. The sailing is over for a while and we aim to tour Canberra, our only other visit being back in 1989, a very fleeting visit.
We followed Hwy 1 as far as Cann River, through Lakes Entrance and on to Orbost. The road is good as far as Lakes Entrance but after that the overtaking lanes largely disappear and the “Rough Surface” signs become more common. Fortunately, the Queen’s Birthday long weekend did not produce a lot of traffic, possibly because the weather is currently not very conducive to getting out and about. From Lakes Entrance on, the road wound inland up the ranges, through some spectacular forested hills. In places, the stands of mountain ash with low understorey of bracken fern reminded me of karri country in the SW of WA. The numerous creek crossings and deep valleys contained some gorgeous tree ferns and there were even places where the road had a ribbon of moss running down the centre. Coming into Orbost, we crossed the Snowy River, winding across a flood plain soaked in emerald green. It was a glorious drive, only marred by the need to concentrate so hard in negotiating our rig around some sharp bends and up and down the deep valleys.
At Cann River, we turned off onto B23 to climb sharply up into the Snowy Mountains. It was still not alpine country but the altimeter in the Land Cruiser showed a definite change and the rainforest gradually gave way to more woodland forest. Eventually, we crossed the border into NSW, an event marked by an amazing change in road quality. The verges were suddenly wide enough to pull up on in an emergency, the surface was generally good and we rediscovered the joys of passing lanes to let our collected tail of cars get by.
Our stop was an early one at a small town called Bombala, about 35km inside NSW. We stayed at a small and cheap Shire run caravan park that was half full already by 1pm. We found that an extended family, half living in Victoria and half living in NSW, had got together for a family reunion. There were caravans, kids, dogs, bikes, warm fires etc. It all looked very cosy. When the Eagles got too far behind in their match against Hawthorn, we wandered across the river into town to admire the quaint old buildings and streetscapes. The town has a look of having seen better days.
The charming Olympia Theatre in Bombala
Two of the four hotels in tiny Bombala.
The next day’s drive took us across the Monaro Plains, a plateau at around 1000m altitude behind the Snowy Mountains.
On the Monaro Plains. It was as cold as it looks.
The Monaro region consists of vast rolling plains of low grasses with only occasional woodlands, most of the original vegetation having been long since cleared for sheep and cattle grazing. The mountains in the distance added to the spectacular scenery. We stopped for a while in Cooma to tour the Snowy Mountains Hydro-Electric Scheme Interpretive Centre, which proved interesting enough and gave an excellent view of just what was what and how the waters had been harnessed. We rolled into Canberra around lunchtime, planning to stop at a roadside stop on the outskirts and research the caravan parks. Amazingly, this proved impossible, with absolutely no information bays or rest areas for the final 20km into the city. We ended up driving right across town to the Canberra Information Centre in Dixon. They sorted us out and we negotiated a short drive on to the Alivio Tourist Park to set up for a three night stay.
Once set up, we drove down to Lake Burley Griffin to get the bikes out and do an around the bridges ride. The full circuit of the lake is 28km but we just did a short ride of about 5km. Being a holiday, and a sunny one at that, the crowds were out and we had lots of company on the ride. It is a great way to take in the fabulous vistas of Canberra, the city’s greatest asset. Everything is so well planned and all the significant buildings are shown off to advantage. Add to that the autumn colour still hanging on many of the trees and it was really quite beautiful. The wind, however, was biting but we are getting better at knowing just how many layers of clothes are needed for each situation.
Getting up close and personal with Sir Robert Menzies
9 & 10 June Canberra
The Monday was the Queen’s Birthday holiday (everywhere but WA) so the city was quiet. We took the opportunity to do the full tourist circuit using the typical red double decker open bus that one finds in almost every city of the World. We spent the first leg upstairs in the open air, but the wind chill factor was pretty grim. We got off at the National Gallery to get our fill of “kulcha” but found that it didn’t open until 10am, so we were forced to kill time in the coffee shop. What a shame.
The crazy thing about the bus is that it only comes around every 2 hours. We can do a museum in 10 minutes if we are really on our game. The National Portrait Gallery and National Galleries took us a bit longer but we still couldn’t get the times to work. The Portrait Gallery was interesting enough but the National gallery seemed to be over full of pieces that struck us as absolute rubbish. I never pretend to be an art expert, but pieces of black plastic with a few burnt holes in it next to a white canvas with a splash of spilled grey paint on it is not worth 10c of this tax payer’s money. Even the famous “Blue Poles” is better seen in a magazine than viewing the original. Call me an art moron but I just can’t see the merit in it.
It was sunny anyway so we were happy to walk through to the Old Parliament House. The Aboriginal Embassy on the lawns out the front is still going but down to about 5 small tents at present. The building houses the Museum of Democracy and the organisers had taken advantage of the public holiday to have kid’s events. The Kings Gallery was filled with kids and tables building things out of Lego. The exact link to democracy escaped me but the kids liked it. We sat for a while in both the Senate and the House of Reps to just soak up the history of the place. The leather on the benches is still oozing history.
I cross the floor of the House
It is only a short walk up the hill to the new Parliament. We have visited this before on our last time in Canberra and the Hop On Hop Off Bus appeared so we jumped aboard to continue the tour through the wonderful embassy area full of glorious buildings, each reflecting some aspect of the culture they represented. We alighted in the central CBD to find a bite to eat. The shops were quiet but there were enough eateries open to keep people happy. Prices seem cheap by Aussie standards and there is plenty of variety. We tried some Turkish fast food before walking on in deteriorating weather to the next bus stop outside the Casino. Why does every city need one of these things? Why not just have a big bucket to throw your money in to? Canberra’s is right next to the Convention and Conference Centre, an excellent marketing move.
We had to have a “selfie” somewhere.
The next leg of the bus tour took us to the War Memorial. On our last visit, we made the mistake of trying to visit on November 11, even getting there at 11am. The crowds were ridiculous and we abandoned all thoughts of touring the museum and Shrine of Remembrance so we felt obligated to give it our best this time around. We managed the World War II Gallery, the Flight gallery, the Discovery Centre, the hall of Valour and the Café before we found ourselves “displayed out”. As museums go, there are none finer than this. The displays are stunning but we have a limited capacity to keep touring static displays.
The bus dropped us off back at the Information Centre and we got in the car to head off to the shops for a few supplies. Christine elected to leave her finger in the door while closing it, changing the shape of the tip of her index finger in ways that made me ill (and her too). The blood began to flow so it was out with the first aid kit, to find it woefully understocked. I found a pharmacy in Dixon and bought enough supplies to get her going again but she won’t be doing any nose picking for a while.
By this time, the day was nearly done and we have found that once the sun lowers, the temperature simply plummets. With zero and sub-zero recordings over the last few days, we headed back to Sandpiper and the comfort of our $14 electric heater.
Our final day in Canberra was another full one, starting with a drive up Black Mountain to the Telstra Tower. This prominent feature of Canberra can be seen from almost anywhere. The building itself is worth a visit because it is an amazing piece of engineering. We rode the lifts up 70m to the observation decks, the first of which was enclosed and nice and warm. The next two were exposed to the elements and the temperature was in the very low single figures. However, the view was worth it, affording uninterrupted views across all of the ACT and nearby Queanbeyan in NSW. It was a worthwhile visit after touring the city the previous day and seeing all the sights again from a different perspective.
The Telstra Tower on Black Mountain
The view from the Telstra Tower
Back at ground level, we navigated our way out of Canberra proper to the Gold Creek Village, a collection of tourist attractions some 15kms to the north. Here we wandered amongst the dinosaurs in the Dinosaur Museum. The displays out the front satisfied us however, and we didn’t bother to pay up and enter the facility to experience the full deal, complete with animated models. This looks like a wonderful display and certainly one that kids would love.
The charming miniature world of Cockington Green
We did pay to tour the charming miniature world of Cockington Green, a huge array of marvellous miniature buildings, villages and landscapes. The developers have done a staggering job of integrating everything into a very entertaining place. Miniature railways run through the exhibits and a steam driven small train hauls willing passengers around the grounds every hour or so. Another amazing display was found inside in the form of several exquisite doll houses with unbelievable detail to all rooms. We spent several delightful hours wandering around this fantastic place.
A minature soccer match
The amazing international section
The Gold Creek Village also features a reptile park but Christine and reptiles don’t mix well so we trekked right across the ACT (it doesn’t take long) to enter NSW at Queanbeyan, a small rural town which benefitted greatly (or not depending on your outlook) from its proximity to the nation’s capital. By the time we arrived, our stomachs were protesting and so we were attracted by a cafe sign offering a wonderful sounding steak sandwich for $7.70. Alas, they must have been good because they were sold out. We settled for a plain hamburger and sat down to watch. After seeing a number of later arrivals served before us, we enquired. We had been overlooked so we got a refund and headed off chasing other fare. It was now after 2pm and things were winding down so we had to settle for a pie and sausage roll with coffee at Donut King. By the time we had explored Queanbeyan and crossed the ACT once again to reach Sandpiper, the dark was on its way and the temperature dropping quickly. It does that here.
After an early rise, we were on the road by 9am and headed north along the Federal Hwy, a luxurious dual carriageway which eventually turns into the Hume Hwy and winds its way to Goulburn and on towards Sydney. At Moss Vale, we left the Hume, and joined the Illawarra Hwy to cut through to the coast at Shellharbour. We knew that we had a 1000m to drop before hitting the coast but we were not quite ready for the awesome experience of towing a 25’ boat down the Macquarie Pass, 15 kms of down, down and more down. It was low gear, brakes, anchor over the side, grab some trees etc. It was such a long way and so narrow. For much of the trip, we followed behind a yellow truck with a trailer and figured that he would shield us from anything oncoming but he eventually pulled over and insisted we pass.
On the Macquarie Pass
We sat behind the big yellow truck for protection
Once at the bottom, I naively thought that we would run along a coastal plain south to Jervis Bay. For a while, things were good, running on the Princes Hwy in the form of a big freeway but this eventually gave out, turning into terrible road works that wound through coastal mountains then into a horrific stretch between Kiama and Berry. We arrived in Jervis Bay, our next sailing destination, in a state of complete exhaustion.
We had chosen to launch at Callala Bay on the northern shore. The town consists of a small cluster of rather impressive beach houses with an associated school and shopping centre. Amazingly, there is no fuel outlet so it was a good thing we had enough for our needs. We found the launching ramp and a parking bay good enough to stay in for a bit. We walked to the shops, then returned to slowly rig the mast and ready Sandpiper for sea. Chatting to some locals, it seems the navy is currently bombarding the eastern shore of Jervis Bay (as they do) so a number of excellent sailing destinations are out of bounds. The positive signs were that everyone was bringing in loads of big squid, so we are hopeful of returning to a seafood diet. We rigged and settled down for the night, ready to launch in the morning.
Sunrise at Callala Bay
With the morning temperature still low, we slept late and took our time getting in the water. The ramp is an interesting affair, very steep and without a finger jetty. A regular long high jetty is nearby but is 6 or 7 metres away from the ramp so long lines are needed to control the boat. The area is subject to a low surge and even a small shore break in places. This surprised me because Jervis Bay is quite deep but the further south one heads the larger the swell effect. Good team work saw us in the water and up against the jetty for a brief time before motoring out to check out a suggested overnight anchorage behind Red Point. Jervis Bay is a marine park and many areas are total sanctuary zones, meaning no anchoring. In our case, all forecast winds were in the northern quadrant we were committed to returning to Callala Bay at the end of the day. Red Point looked good, with a secure anchorage area behind a protruding finger of reef, but no better than the anchorage around the launching area.
We raised all sail and headed south across the bay to an area known as the “Hole in the Wall” after a beach side rock formation. The low rolling swell increased markedly as we drew closer to the entrance to the open ocean but it was long and low and the wind waves small so sailing was pleasant, despite the temperature. As we passed the spectacular Point Perpendicular, the northern headland on the Jervis Bay entrance, the dull thuds of exploding ordinance started. We watched the shore line in vain for explosions or smoke trails but saw none, although later in the day a smoke trail from a shell landing did show up.
The beaches we were headed for were not suitable for a landing without the tender set up due to the onshore breeze so we admired them from the water and sailed towards the western shore and past HMAS Creswell, a naval training facility, and towards the small settlement of Hyams Beach. A naval helicopter appeared, flying low, and headed towards a large power boat motoring out of HMAS Creswell. It must have been practising dropping men onto the boat because we could see it hovering over the vessel with what appeared to be people being lowered on lines. The enormous cloud of spray caused by the rotors actually looked like smoke and must have been unbearable for the sailors on board the boat.
The aptly named Point Perpendicular at the entrance to Jervis Bay
The rest of the sail was more of a motor straight back into the wind. Along the way, we marvelled at the gannets feeding. They pick their prey from quite a height, then dive steeply, entering the water like a bomb hitting. They seem to be underwater for some time before suddenly popping to the surface like a cork. It is an amazing spectacle. We headed across to the area that we had seen fishermen successfully squid fishing the previous afternoon and drifted for an hour or so. We were actually disappointed that we only caught one but at least it was a big one and enough for a delicious meal.
An excellent Southern Calamari Squid
A down-side of the fishing was that I had to retrieve fishing rods from their storage space under the cabin floor. On lifting the floor, I found, to my horror, that there was quite a lot of greeny-brown liquid sloshing around in the bilge. It had two distinctive odours; (1) portable toilet chemical (2) urine. It seems the porta-potty cap was leaking, and the contents ended up in the bilge. Fortunately, the toilet had only been used for No 1s since its last emptying. Even so, soaking up loads of chemical infused urine and sluicing out with Napisan was not a pleasant job. Christine watched. She does real nappies with the grandchildren so I guess we are square.
The night anchorage was taken up inside the main mooring area with no public mooring vacant but we made sure we anchored over sand and left the precious seagrass undisturbed. As night fell, I turned on the LED spotlight at the rear of the boat in the hope of attracting squid. The squid stayed away but we did lure a big school of yellowtail scad. I caught one to rig up on a squid jig but this tasty morsel also failed to attract anything. The poor little fellow died in vain.
Our time on Jervis Bay has been very short, yet the place has definite appeal. The water is clean and sparkling. The warm Pacific Current keeps the water warmer than its latitude would suggest and the large area of marine reserves maintains a healthy population of marine life. The surrounding forests are equally attractive. All in all, a place worthy of a visit.
June 13 Shellharbour
The morning was incredibly beautiful, with low mists drifting over a glassed out anchorage. It was a warmer morning than any we have experienced for weeks and we both donned shorts for the trip back through the moorings to haul the boat out. The clutch on the Power Winch failed again with the boat only inches from its destination so we had to muck around a bit to get things squared away. Sourcing the required parts for the winch in Sydney is a priority. Once on the hard ground again, we squared things away and prepared to hit the road to Shellharbour, an outer suburb of Wollongong.
The thought of driving back over the terrible stretches of the Princes Hwy filled us with fear but the return proved easier than the drive down. Perhaps we were fresher or maybe it was the fact that the sun was shining. It still wasn’t fun, but at least it was bearable.
Shellharbour Village is a delightful seaside village with more eating establishments than people, with the result that prices are excellent and options plentiful. We set up camp in the Shellharbour Seaside Tourist Park and marvelled at the amazing views across the bay to the industry of Wollongong in the distance. Lots of surfers braved what appeared to be suicidal conditions with a big swell running. Christine caught up on a lot of washing while I headed down into the bilges to deal with more of the left over nasty stuff.
After housework and showers, we walked into the village to stroll up the hill along the main street, purchase a few bits from the butcher and stroll down, pausing for a suitable break at the local pub. We even managed to sit outside and have a beer, the first time we’ve managed this since SA.
28 May – 5 June – Gippsland Lakes
From Sale we drove the 100km or so to Paynesville, via Hwy 1 and Bairnsdale. Paynesville if a small waterside hamlet with more boats than houses and new canal developments beginning to have an impact on its quaint old world charm. The place reminded me of the Mandurah of my childhood, but then this is the low season and I can imagine just what a bun fight it is over the Australia Day Weekend or at Easter. One look at the front row of shops (actually the only row of shops) tells the story. There are more cafes here than anything else and every other shop finds an excuse to sell coffee.
Across the narrow McMillan Strait from the town lies Raymond Island, housing its cluster of houses owned by people chasing that little bit extra when it comes to privacy. The lifestyle comes at a cost, because the only way over is via vehicular ferry, running every 20 minutes. In peak periods, locals can wait for up to three ferries. They must really like the place.
The Raymond Island ferry
We located the King St launching ramp and set the mast up, the first time since returning from our trip home in March. Then we launched and started the motor, the same motor that has given so much trouble so far on the trip. On the Murray River, it would run fast but refused to idle or run slowly. I’d stripped down the carby and cleaned the jets and all seemed good on land. Once underway, things were fine as we slowly motored away into McMillan Straits, until I increased speed. We went fine for five minutes then suddenly, the motor just stopped. I restarted, and set off, increased speed and ran for four minutes before the motor stopped. After repeating this a few times, the motor was down to running either at ultra low speed or not running at all. We crept back into town to tie up outside the pub and consider what to drown, our sorrows or the motor.
Christine rang around until she found a mechanic with time to help, a bonus being that he was across the road from the ramp and would take the boat on the trailer mast up. We spent the night on the jetty listening to small dogs yap. It seems the local habit is to walk the dog to the pub, tie it up outside, and forget it for a couple of hours. Some people should swap places with their dog.
The next day, the motor was even worse and getting past the car ferry was a bit nerve racking. We somehow managed to dock and began retrieving the boat. It was within half a metre of being totally on the trailer when the electric winch decided to jam. Christine suggested getting help from the people across the road but I said I could deal with it. After half an hour of frustrating efforts, I reluctantly agreed that she could seek help and she came back with a young man and his tractor, who promptly used the winch on the tractor to retrieve the yacht the last little bit and towed it over the road. Christine is starting to be proven right a bit too often lately. I’ll have to watch that trend.
The bikes out at Paynesville
With the boat in the hands of the medicos, we drove to the town centre, seeking solace at the bakery in the form of a hot chocolate and sausage roll. The calories finally gave us the guilts so we parked up and got the folding bicycles out of the car. The ferry took us across to Raymond Island, the main attraction being a large colony of koalas. In all our travels, we have never managed to see an actual koala in the wild. All the ones we have seen have been resting upside down in the middle of the road. On Raymond Island, it doesn’t take long to find them. It is just a matter of looking for the gum trees that are missing lots of leaves. Some trees have been so badly hammered that the authorities have wrapped large plastic sheets around the trunks so the koalas can’t climb them. We rode around the island, racking up koala after koala. In fact, I think we have now ticked off that particular item. Mind you, we still haven’t seen a live wombat in the wild.
Two of the rarer type of koalas
A real wild koala
We rode away from town along the edge of Newlands Arm, an idyllic stretch of water with some lovely scenery. The weather was gorgeous; given that we were in the last few days of autumn and we spent time just sitting in the main street observing life. Any scene that is full of water, boats and greenery is a peaceful one.
On our return to the mechanics, we found a group of very frustrated workers. “We just get it right and it suddenly misbehaves again,” they complained. Tell me something I don’t know! The light was fading fast, as is does by 5pm here, and we agreed that we’d spend the night in the launching ramp car park and return the boat in the morning. Fortunately, the East Gippsland Shire recognises the importance of boaties to their economy and provides good free facilities in the form of good clean toilets and free hot showers so living in the car parks is possible.
The next day, the boat was returned to the workshop and we drove into Bairnsdale, a surprisingly large regional city of around 12,000 people. It is pretty, with wide streets and some attractive vistas of the Nicholson River. It is possible to access the Gippsland lakes from Bairnsdale and so there are a number of river cruisers and houseboats tied up. We walked and window shopped, stopping for a few odd bits and pieces. When I came across a Dick Smith store, I relented and replaced the Android Tablet I’d left on the bus back from Melbourne. It hurt, but it was time to move on. I have promised myself to actually look after this one but that it a poor promise, given that it is my forth in two years.
We drove another 30 odd kms out to Lakes Entrance, where the lakes enter the Tasman Sea. Originally, access to the sea only occurred in times of flood, but artificial channels now guarantee tidal flow. This was done in the latter part of the Nineteenth Century to allow maritime traffic to reach the inland towns of Bairnsdale and Sale. The town was rather quiet, but the numerous motels and cafes were testimony to the crowds that flock there in season. The front waterside walk was freezing, despite the clear skies and warming sun. We sought solace in a pub and had fish and chips, fresh Lakes Entrance gummy shark with an excellent salad for a senior’s special of $10. Can’t complain. On the way out of town, we stopped at a lookout that afforded amazing views of the lakes system. It is hard to gain a full appreciation of the sheer size of the Gippsland Lakes. Hopefully, a week of cruising will do the job.
Back at Paynesville, things were looking up but it still took the better part of the afternoon to finish up, get the boat back in the water and get underway. As promised, the motor performed perfectly but then it’s done that before. With the hour late, we decided to just motor over to Raymond Island and park up on a public jetty for the night.
The next morning, the cold kept us in bed until the hour was acceptable. We tested the outboard by motoring back to where the car was parked and retrieved some extra warm clothing, scarves and beanies and then on a short distance to the refuelling jetty.
With everything finally in place, we set off to motor the length of Lake Victoria, a trip of around 19 nautical miles. It was peaceful (despite the drone of the motor) and the scenery, if not spectacular, was at least restful and pleasant. The sun warmed us and at one point we were both actually in shirts and shorts. We stopped for lunch near Pelican Point and I waded along the shore in icy waters to collect a few crabs for bream bait later. Then it was on past the little town of Loch Sport to Holland’s Landing, where we decided to ease around into the lovely little cove at Blonde Bay, a perfect anchorage for the night. I tried fishing but didn’t even manage a bite. However, the spectacular sunset almost made up for the lack of action. It is so good to be back on the water and away from the crowds. The next step is to get the sails up again. They haven’t been used since Port Lincoln, way back in March.
Sunset at Blonde Bay
It was a very peaceful night, with only the honking of swans and the occasional cry of a plover to remind us we were on the water. However, it was cold, well down in the single figures somewhere and we didn’t bother attempting to rise until after 8am. When I did, I stuck my head outside and found that I could barely see the stern of the boat and certainly no sign of land, which I knew to be less than 100m away. What a pea-souper. We settled down to breakfast, noting that there was a very light NW breeze blowing that, hopefully, would blow the fog away. Alas, it seemed to bring more fog.
About 25m visibility
A movie on the laptop took up some time, along with doing dishes and other minor bits of housework, until the visibility reached the point that it was safe to proceed, around 11am. All hint of a breeze had gone and we motored in to Holland’s Landing in glassy conditions. There were a number of people perched along the wharf fishing but no one seemed to be catching anything. We chatted to one couple from Moe who were on a bit of a fishing holiday with little success. The shop at the caravan park was closed up and no one had seen the manager for some time so we abandoned hopes of getting a hot shower and cast off again to navigate the length of McClennans Strait to Lake Wellington. After only a mile or so, we stopped to fish and have some soup for lunch, to try and warm us up. It was getting colder by the minute and the wind was starting to pick up. It is the first wind we’ve seen on the Lakes but it was from the East and blowing around 15knots so any thought of sailing back through Lake Victoria to Loch Sport was squashed and we continued to motor the length of McClennans Strait to put our nose into Lake Wellington.
Cold, wet through McClennans Strait to Lake Wellington
Lake Wellington really has little to interest us, unless we wanted to navigate some of the rivers on the far side and the sky had turned very black, with a lot of rain coming soon so we motored back to Seacombe Landing and tied up at the launching ramp. With only one car-trailer in the car park and the weather worsening all the time, we figured we wouldn’t be a nuisance tied up to one of the two landing jetties. A short while later, a couple of young guys in a Swiftcraft came roaring along the Straits and proceeded to try and “park” the boat alongside as though it was a sports car. Every manoeuvre was made with full throttle of the 140HP outboard and they made a complete hash of things. It was really quite entertaining watching their antics, all of which could have been avoided if they had just backed off the throttle and eased alongside.
The next morning was once again foggy but with around 200 metres visibility we motored through McClennans Strait and across Lake Victoria to the small town of Loch Sport. There is a choice of accommodation here, because there is a marina with hotel or a new town jetty, with affording secure berths for all directions. In our case, we were the only ones at the jetty so we could choose our berth according to the wind direction. Good use has been made of baffle boarding so the wave motion from the 10-15 knot westerly was negated and we enjoyed a nice calm berth.
The day had set in for solid rain, with 20-40mm forecast and flood warnings out for the Gippsland lakes. We went and saw the caravan park owners (just new) and organised a shower and gas bottle refill so we could keep running the heater. The ablutions are wonderful; clean and hot, so we immediately felt revitalised. After a Facetime linkup with the grandchildren back home, we walked under umbrellas down to the Loch Sport Supermarket to pick up a few odds and ends. They had a range of ex-rental DVDs for $3 each so we grabbed three and settled in for an afternoon of movie watching. The generator was set up because it has been several days since we saw any sun for the solar panels and the batteries were starting to suffer. I tried a little more fishing but it was cold and miserable outside and I didn’t get a bite so I gave up. I have seen one small bream caught on the lakes and had one bite myself so I’m not a fan of the place as a fishing location. We in the West are used to better than that.
The night was a noisy one, but comfortable enough. The noise was caused by the slapping of the waves on the baffle boards on the jetty. They did their job well, creating a lovely calm enclosure despite the freshening North West wind. The morning showed little improvement on the previous day and the weather reports suggested that another 10 to 15 mm of rain could be expected on top of the 25 mm so far. Obviously, other parts of the Gippsland received a lot more, with flood warnings out for most of the local rivers.
Christine can cook anything in her Coleman Oven on a metho stove.
By 10am, the sky at least showed some signs of breaking in patches so we set off and put up the headsail, our first sail raising since Port Lincoln. We ran before a 10-15 knot westerly eastwards along Lake Victoria and pulled in to Duck Arm in idyllic conditions. Duck Arm is a narrow inlet about a mile in length and Picnic Arm is a tiny inlet running off that. We hitched up to a mooring in Picnic Arm to make lunch and noted that the day was definitely looking up. Both Duck Arm and Picnic Arm are quite delightful, with beautiful little stands of picturesque bushlands and some gorgeous green farmlands.
The pleasant weather was short lived and the rain set in again as we sailed on main and a half jib across Lake Victoria to pick up the markers for the winding channel into Bunga Arm, a long narrow inlet formed by a series of sand dunes cutting off the low lying river flood plains that eventually formed the lakes system. It rained the whole length of the channel to the Steamer Landing, where we tied up to seek some relief from the cold. There was a charter power boat tied up as well, with the occupants huddled inside. The continuing rain ruled out any idea of walking across the sand dunes to look at the Ninety Mile Beach, so that was postponed for tomorrow. It is getting quite hard to put up with the weather. It is frustrating that the time we spent getting the trailer and motor fixed was unseasonably warm yet as soon as we launched, things turned for the worse. It is now officially Winter and it really is pushing things a bit to be trying to sail Victoria in Winter. It might be time to head North.
Black swans and pelicans abound
The weather responded to our threats by turning on a absolutely lovely day, with the temperature reaching a warming 19 degrees and the sky being more blue than grey. Best of all, there was no rain and not a hint of wind. While the wind is good for sailing, it also produces a chill factor.
In these glorious conditions, we first took a short walk across the dunes that separate the Bunga Arm from the Tasman Sea to gaze down on the huge expanse of the Ninety Mile Beach. The sea was dead calm, but a large swell was producing a heavy surf break. Some wonderful fishy looking gutters made me wish I had packed some surf fishing gear.
The Ninety Mile Beach
Over the dunes from Bunga Arm to Ninety Mile Beach
Then it was off to negotiate the intricate winding channels back out into Lake Victoria to motor east to Metung. Sailing was certainly not an option, with the sea producing perfect mirror images of the sky and far off mountains. Along the way, we were entertained by the sight of a seal cavorting on the surface and a pod of four dolphins feeding on something. It couldn’t have been fish because I am convinced that there are no fish in the lakes system. We checked out the eastern side of Raymond Island and noted some lovely looking beaches and a public jetty, a great looking spot for an overnight stop.
Metung struck us as a quaint village that has been bought by the bored and idle rich, to be turned into a toy fishing hamlet with bling. The upside is that it is very well done and the perfect place to land, stroll, sit and drink coffee or even fish and chips with a beer. We elected for the latter, and enjoyed a very nice feed at the Gallery Fish and Chips. While strolling around the town, we were thrilled by the gorgeous crimson rosellas that were in abundance. The bird life on and around the lakes is quite amazing. Our favourites are the huge sea eagles, that work in pairs and seem to delight in flying over a flock of floating ducks. The ducks scatter in extreme panic and the eagles flap away well satisfied to hunt something within their reach.
The public jetty at Metung
Fish and Chips with a beer at Metung
It was tempting to stay the night in Metung and indulge ourselves further, but the waist line saw sense and we motored off again to return to the eastern end of Raymond Island, where we had identified a good overnight stop. It proved a good choice, except for the fact that the jetty seemed to be a major tern roost and so took on a decidedly fishy smell. We avoided this by pulling Sandpiper along the jetty into the shallows. The surrounding bush is very beautiful. To us westerners, all the plants are familiar, yet not. That is, there are banksias, but not our species. None of the eucalypts look familiar and even the ground covers, weeds and grasses are somehow different in appearance. The combined effect is quite charming.
With our intention being to pull out in the morning, we spent some time organising sails, lines and fishing gear. It was a pleasure to be outside working in the warmth of the sunshine, but the forecasts were all for a return to the cold and wet weather so it is time to leave Gippsland. We had some light rain during the night and early morning but remained dry for the short trip back to the car and trailer in Paynesville. We retrieved the boat without drama but were a bit horrified at the terrible staining on the hull below the water line. Locals say that a week in the water can result in barnacles growing and we were thankful to avoid them, but the brown stain will need attention. We scrubbed down the worst of it and intended stopping at the pressure wash bays just out of town but we proved to have a mere 20cm too much head room to get in, so we headed off to find a caravan park in Bairnsdale.
We did not experience the Gippsland Lakes at their best from a weather point of view. It is simply too cold to be on the water. There are endless tracts of wetlands that would be worth exploring in the porta bote but we didn’t even feel motivated to launch it because the thought of putting through heavy fog, drizzle or, at times, driving rain, was not the least enticing. The bird life is certainly amazing but we had to leave the cabin to see it. The fishing for certainly species is legendary, but for us is might as well have been a legend because we failed to catch a single fish, despite quite a few hours trying. Never the less, we are glad we came and experienced this part of the country. It is fascinating and warrants further attention.
For the next three weeks, Sandpiper will play the role of caravan as we head off to Canberra and the NSW South coast.
The Murray River to Sale (Vic)
19-22 May Waikerie (SA) to Sale (Vic)
We faced a 1000km drive into Victoria and through Melbourne to East Gippsland to access the much talked about Gippsland Lakes. A check on Google maps gave us three possible routes, each within 5km of each other so I talked to a Victorian who was parked near us in the caravan park at Waikerie. I figure he would know because he’d been a truck driver all his life.
Unfortunately, he advised us to go down the Sunraysia Hwy through Ballarat. His advice proved poor, because for much of the trip, the yacht acted as though it was caught in a heavy sea, pitching and rolling over the horrible uneven surface. The Victorian roads lived up to their reputation. Crap!
Our trip took us through Renmark and across the Murray to Mildura. Once again, we gave up our fruit and vegetables, despite the fact that they were grown and sold in quarantine controlled lands. Travelling along the Murray, one learns to only buy as much as you need for the day.
The sheer size of Mildura surprised us, and it took quite a while to get out of town heading south. We drove through some beautiful mallee country, showing the first green of Winter to overnight in a little place called Woomelang. Christine had found this gem on WikiCamps and it sported a FREE caravan park with hot showers and powered sites. We are not sure why they do it but it was a bargain at any price. As has been our practice in small country towns, we headed off for a pint at the local to talk those that know all. Alas, the pub was shut, not quite boarded up, but very much shut and definitely for sale. What a tragedy!
The next day took us south along the terrible B220 through the towns of Donald (we looked for the duck) and St Arnaud. Both were bigger than I would have imagined, since I’d never really heard of them before. The mallee country gave way to the Grampians, all clothed in a beautiful cloak of green. Every town had a main street of autumn coloured plane trees, making us feel as though we were driving through Europe instead of Australia. Finally, the pain of the B220 gave way to the Western Freeway and we entered Ballarat, to stay the night at the Windmill Holiday Park. This place boasts an indoor heated swimming pool. The thought of actually swimming some laps was too much to resist.
We set up our “caravan” and headed into Ballarat. Ballarat is a serious city with a population 86,000 and the process of finding desired locations and parking reflected this. The traffic was medium to heavy, and some of the road habits somewhat foreign but we managed to find the train station, Target and Rivers. What more could anyone want? We bought a couple of train tickets from Sale to Melbourne so we could get to the footy on Saturday. Then it was off to the general shops for a pair of jeans (the old legs are getting cold) and an Eagles beanie from the AFL store for the big match against Collingwood.
Beautiful Ballarat
On the way home, we dropped in to Lake Wendouree, a large man-made lake in Ballarat surrounded by beautiful gardens. Once again, the autumn colours made a gorgeous display. We unloaded the fold-up bikes from the car and cycled the 6.5km around the lake, feeling every metre of it because we have let our fitness slip of late.
Cycling around Lake Wendouree, Ballarat
Then it was off to the Aldi store. We can’t wait for Aldi to come to WA. The shops are full of really cheap stuff that we probably don’t want but can’t refuse at such bargain rates. It makes shopping fun again. Mind you, we bought the Brooke James Shiraz and SSB in 2 L casks for $8.95 that we had had in Melbourne earlier in the year. It is so much better than any other cask wine it is worth a trip to Aldi.
Once back at the caravan park, we headed for the pool, despite the fact that the temperature was only around 10 degrees. The wonderful indoor pool is a delicious 29 degrees and the twin spas an incredible 39 degrees. Swimming laps then jumping into the spas and watching the giant screen TV has a lot to recommend it. The old body is feeling better already.
The wonderful heated indoor pool at the Windmill Caravan Park
The drive from Ballarat to Sale is mostly along the Western Freeway through Melbourne itself over the West Gate Bridge. Things are pretty well sign posted and the GPS on the iPhone helped a lot. Even so, we managed to get caught in the wrong lane as we passed through Melbourne and were forced to exit the freeway into South Melbourne. As we came down the off ramp, we were faced with the terrible sight of a low bridge, one of the old train subways, that was limited to 3m. Sandpiper is 3.4m where the mast rests on the rear bar work so things didn’t compute. I managed an immediate right turn into a factory area and we found a way of getting back to an on ramp and the safety of the freeway.
We negotiated the City Link tollway tunnel, surrounded by huge trucks and cement mixers, all roaring along. The lanes are extremely narrow and at times it seemed as though there was no room to squeeze through. I learned not to look in the mirrors and just focus on the lane ahead. Once clear of the tunnel, the road fed through a series of interchanges until settling down into a standard four lane dual carriageway and we were out of Melbourne.
The scenery heading towards Gippsland is very pretty, with some lovely rolling hills and low mountains inland. Once again, displays of autumn colours amongst the lush green was an added attraction. We passed through Moe, Traralgon and Sale before heading off to Maffra, where Paul and Tamsyn, some contacts through the trailersailerplace.com, had kindly offered us room to stay on their 8 acre property. We found the place with little difficulty and waited a short time before Tamsyn arrived home from picking up their lovely children from school. The property is beautiful, with a horse and donkey in the front paddock, numerous ducks and chooks out the back and a variety of fruit trees in evidence. We found a spot to park the boat and unhitched, finding to our dismay that a hose had broken on the hydraulic brake system. More repairs needed but not too bad.
Paul arrived home around 6pm and after dinner we got together to pick his brains. Paul and Tamsyn proved to be absolute gems and gave us so much valuable information and made the area sound so attractive our only problem will be doing justice to it in the time we have. It is so good to have the hospitality and help from local people as we travel. Hopefully, we will be able to repay the kindness when they manage to get over to the West.
Paul and Tamsyn’s gorgeous house in Maffra
The next day I tackled the problems with the outboard, stripping down the carby and cleaning out the low speed jets. Fortunately, Paul has a well equipped shed so I was able to use a compressor and really give things a good blast of air. After putting things back together wrongly three or four times before getting it right, all was well and the outboard restored to its best (fingers crossed).
Then it was off into Sale to find someone to help with the hydraulics. An inspection showed that it was not just a case of a simple broken pipe bit rather a break in one of the main steel lines. A contact Paul had given me was unable to help but referred me to a mechanic who could do the job and we booked it in for the following Monday, on our return from Melbourne. We arrived back at Paul and Tamsyn’s tired but content that we had our life sorted and settled in to catch up with a few administrative things and a iPad Facetime linkup with Ben.
23-25 May – Melbourne
The train trip from Sale to Melbourne took about three and a half hours on a comfortable diesel powered train. We paid about $5 extra for First Class, giving us wider seats and more leg room, money well spent. The whole round trip for two only set us back $92, much cheaper and easier than driving. The country east of Melbourne is green at this time of year and quite picturesque, with the line running back along the M1 through Tralalgon, Moe Warragul etc. We alighted in Flinders Street Station, right in the heart of Melbourne and had about an hour to kill before Azba could get off work and join us for a tram ride to her place in Richmond. We used the time to buy two tickets to the Eagles-Collingwood match and settled outside St Pauls to watch the passing parade. With Azba off work, we headed to her place to order Pizza in and consume too much wine (what’s new?).
Saturday dawned with a beautiful Autumn day, warm by Melbourne standards. We needed to access a boat supplies in Collingwood for some very specialised sealant, so we walked the 3km from Azba’s, putting Christine’s knee to the test. It held up quite well and is improving steadily. My back, on the other hand, just chooses random times to protest, usually for an hour at a time. The walk was pleasant and with the sealant procured, we trammed across town to Harbour Town in the Docklands to shop in the factory outlets. We scored some real bargains in the AFL outlets, with a great Eagles wind breaker for Christine and shirt for me. Eagles buyers were in abundance and we were both surprised by the number of Eagles supporters walking the streets. By contrast, Collingwood supporters were not in evidence but we figured they were home sharpening their teeth.
Catching a tram down Bridge Road to the MCG in full Eagles colours was fun. We were welcomed by a group of young men who had just exited the pub who hailed us as visiting Sandgropers. Most were expats and there was a lone Magpie being very quiet. Once on the tram, the group had some banter with a very rough looking Collingwood supporter and when the guys jumped off the tram again, having gone a whole four stops without a drink, and headed for the next pub, the Collingwood guy started yelling out “Eagles @$#%&”. They happily gave him the finger. Pulling up to some lights, the Collingwood gentleman proceeded to lean out the door and call across to a young girl, telling her what a lovely arse she had. She tried hard to just look straight ahead and spent the time until the lights changed trying to pull down her skirt as far as possible. He and his kids exited just before Jolimont Station and he walked along drinking from his can. True to form, he finished it and tossed it into the bushes. Where was God when you needed Him?
There is nothing quite like the excitement of sport at the MCG, even if a 55,000 strong crowd only half fills the place. We had good seats, on the first tier along the 50m line. Even with a crowd of this size, we found that Vauna Watson, a friend from Marmion Primary School was seated four seats away and a group of teachers from West Greenwood that Christine knew from her time there were two rows ahead of us. There were enough Eagles supporters around us to make a lot of noise, especially since the Eagles led for most of the match. Unfortunately, the Magpies over ran us in the final quarter by 8 points and the noise from the Collingwood army was deafening. We slunk out licking our wounds and caught a tram back to Richmond. Mike had arrived for the weekend and Azba had cooked up a delicious fish meal so we dined like kings and consumed more wine.
The train trip back on the Sunday turned out to be a short one, only to Packenham, before we were transferred to coaches so work could be done on the station at Warragul. The coach actually proved very comfortable. It concluded a very relaxing and wonderful trip to Melbourne, one of our favourite cities anywhere. The big downside was only discovered later that night. I had left my Android Tablet in the seat pocket of the bus. I have a very bad record with these things, having sat on one in a plane and smashed the screen, left another on charge under a hotel bed where the maid could hit it with the vacuum and smash the screen and just cracked a screen through no apparent cause.
26-27 May – Port of Sale
Once back in Maffra, we organised Sandpiper ready for an early departure. The hydraulic brakes need attention so we have planned to take the boat off and spend the day tied up in Port of Sale while the work is done. As often happens, the work was more complicated than anticipated and we spent a lovely day in Port of Sale and a night tied up to the jetty. Christine contacted V-Line Rail and the bus company about the Android with no luck.
Port of Sale is a small series of docks located on the Sale Canal, a narrow canal cut through to link Sale to the Gippsland Lakes via the Thompson River in the 1880s. Today, it provides secure facilities for a number of small boats and a small slipway for boat servicing.
Port of Sale
We spent another day at Port of Sale, this one no so pleasant, with low temperatures and regular light rain. Everything was damp and slushy. I checked my Google account on the Internet and found that my Android was at a place in Highfield, part of Melbourne. We could narrow it down to an address, but it was a block of apartments. Even so, we went around to the Sale Police and gave them all the information that we had. They took all the details and promised to do what they could, short of getting a search warrant for the whole building. After a number of tries, I managed to contact the tablet itself and lock it, with a screen message asking the person to give me a ring. I won’t lose any sleep waiting for the phone to ring.
With the trailer work complete, we picked it up late in the day and decided to sleep over night and pull out fresh in the morning, to head off to sail the Gippsland Lakes, the whole point of being here.
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