Tag: Sandpiper (Page 1 of 2)
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.
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.
The video of our Murray River trip can be seen here http://youtu.be/rq77qnXywNE
We launched Sandpiper on Tuesday 13 May upstream of Lock 1, giving us only one lock between Blanchetown and Waikerie, our final destination. Although the trip is 108km long, Waikerie is only 42km down the Sturt Highway from Blanchetown, a measure of just how much the river twists and meanders around. Our plan was to reach Waikerie by Friday, when an afternoon bus runs back through Blanchetown so we can retrieve the car and trailer which is being stored at the caravan park in secure circumstances.
Launching at Blanchetown
On the water and underway, we found the outboard to be once again misbehaving. It does not like to idle or go slow but runs fine under load. This suggests that the low speed jets are gummed up again. I am rather put out because I was careful to clear all fuel when storing it in Port Lincoln. While the engine pushes us along the river with no problems, slow manoeuvring into beaches, jetties or locks will be a hassle.
The first day, we covered a mere 20km, overnighting on the bank opposite Crook’s Landing. The beauty of the river is hard to describe, it needs to be experienced. The vista changes at every turn, with peaceful wetlands, rolling pastures and farmlands, holiday homes and moored houseboats or spectacular towering cliffs. The river seems to maintain a good depth in most places with between 15 and 20 feet in most areas then down to 65 feet under the shadow of the sandstone cliffs. The only other river traffic consisted of a lone long distance kayaker and a beautiful modern houseboat heading downstream.
We used a book called “Murray River Pilot” to ensure that we avoided nasty things in the water and to read about all the rich history of sites along the way. It was easy to picture ourselves chugging along in a stern wheel paddle steamer in the middle of the 19th Century delivering goods to the hardy settlers along the wonderful river.
Christine tried to use Google maps to track our progress with hilarious results
Tied up to the bank for the night, we put out a yabby trap but the yabbies weren’t playing the game. We used the wrong bait (red meat), the water is too cold, the full moon put them off or we should have been here yesterday. We had more luck with the fish, catching one nice European Carp and losing another bigger on near the boat. While the carp are said to be edible if treated well, we didn’t bother. Returning them to the water is illegal so Mr Carp spent the evening on the river bank.
The next day we covered about 35km through Morgan and on towards the small hamlet of Cadell. As we neared Morgan, the density of “shacks” and houseboats tied up on the banks increased remarkably. Some of the shacks would not look out of place in Mindarie Quays and many of the houseboats were bigger than our Dowerin house, with three decks and spas.
Morgan itself is a very historical town. When the rail head arrived in 1878, Morgan became a major centre with more than 25 boats a week delivering goods along the river. Later, when the rail pushed on to Waikerie and Renmark, the importance of Morgan fell away.
The old wharf at Morgan
The charming streetscape in Morgan
We tied up to some river bank moorings and walked up the steep hill to the little town. The main street is a quaint collection of National Trust buildings, with two hotels facing each other. We chose one for its cheaper menu and enjoyed an excellent lunch and pint. Then it was back to the boat and onwards. We had to negotiate a ferry crossing and were a little anxious that we did the right thing. In the end, it was easy, just waiting for the ferry to reach one bank then heading through. Cutting to close to the ferry while it is underway risks fouling the steel cable strung across the river.
Our path took us past the famous Morgan wharf, built as a towering timber structure to cater for the huge range in river levels in the days before weirs and locks. A lazy trip along the river took us to a pleasant sandy landing where we set up for the night. The wind dropped to nothing on sunset, creating a glorious display with the trees mirrored on the surface. The scenery proved better than the fishing.
The next day took us upstream through Cadell, on the 322km mark. Distances are all taken from the mouth of the river and marked on trees with blue signs every 2km. The small locality of Cadell is about 11km upstream of Morgan. There is little on the river itself and a small village about a kilometre away. There is a lovely picnic area with some houseboat moorings near the ferry crossing and a small launching ramp. We stopped in to the ramp to assess its suitability for retrieving Sandpiper, having decided not to navigate through Lock 2 to Waikerie because of the difficulty working with the motor. However, the ramp proved unsuitable, or at least not as good as the one at Morgan, and we had enough time to motor back to Morgan.
We continued on past Cadell for about 12km, noting that the bush becomes drier and more open than further downstream. There is the usual series of creeks and lagoons that would be so much fun to explore in a kayak. Eventually, we found a really lovely sandy beach on a sand bar at the 345km mark, opposite some stunning cliffs. I spent the afternoon fishing, catching two very large carp. If they had been any other species I’d have been over the moon, but the carp are sluggish when hooked and not much to get excited about in the kitchen. Since it is illegal to release carp, a waiting group of pelicans benefitted from my efforts, after I’d cut the big fish into small pieces so they could be shared around. A couple of brown hawks also circled overhead and snatched a couple of morsels for themselves.
The night was unseasonably warm and we found ourselves shedding blankets. The usual dew was also absent so we didn’t sleep in as late as we have been doing. By 8:30, we’d had breakfast, done the dishes and some housework and were underway again headed back to Morgan.
Christine phoned the driver of the local bus that runs a Friday service to tell him of our changed plans. We had initially organised to be picked up in Waikerie but he was happy to pick me up at the ferry crossing in Morgan on his way back to Blanchetown. This way, I could get the car and trailer and use the ramp at Morgan to retrieve.
We arrived in Morgan by 11am and tied up at the 24hour moorings on the bank just downstream of the ferry crossing. We had plenty of time to tour the Morgan Museum and pop into the local for a pint and meal. The museum is an old store shed. It contains many very interesting displays depicting significant events in the history of Morgan. The huge wharf that still stands today is actually less than a third of what once existed. The Commercial Hotel provided a wonderful lunch of braised chops on mash and crumbed chops, chips and salad for the very reasonable $15 and $12 respectively.
We have thoroughly enjoyed our short time on the river and are determined to do some other stretches later in our trip, probably late in the year on our return from Queensland. The changing vistas, the birdlife, the history and the moments of utter peace and tranquillity all works together to make the experience a “must do”. A small group sharing one of the many palatial houseboats could be a memorable holiday.
Back on the trailer at Morgan and off to Waikerie
Friday 3rd January 2014 – Leaving Dowerin
Today we commence our long dreamed of exploration of the South Eastern and Eastern coasts with our beloved Yacht Sandpiper. Most people assume we are sailing our way around and think we’re mad, but the fact is we are taking the easy was out and trailering Sandpiper from location to location. First major stop is the Eyre Peninsula in South Australia. The boat is fully equipped and provisioned to be our caravan on land and our cruising home on water. This trip is the culmination of years of discussion, planning and reading.
With most packing already complete, we managed a reasonable get away from Dowerin shortly after 10am and had an uneventful drive through Wyalkatchem, Trayning and Nungarin to Merredin. After a quick bite to eat, we drove East along Great Eastern Highway with the plan of sleeping half way between Coolgardie and Norseman. The traffic was very light and the temperature around 30C so the driving was pleasant enough, more so because we just maintained an easy 85 km/hr. The Fifth Ashes Test was our main amusement.
Unfortunately, somewhere between Southern Cross and Coolgardie, we suffered a blow-out on the trailer. Fortunately, the road shoulder was flat and hard so we managed to change the wheel without major issues. However, with the Nullarbor ahead of us, we weren’t keen to go much further with only one more spare so we decided to overnight in Coolgardie and take the car into Kalgoorlie the next morning to replace the blown tyre. This suited us anyway because a first day drive of 446km is good enough, even with the thousands ahead of us. We have no intention of pushing things too hard.
The Haven Tourist Park boasted an RAC sign claiming three star rating but I suspect this was some time ago. Things were quiet and looked a little like a scene from a Clint Eastwood classic but the ablutions were clean and everything worked.
We are off on the Great Adventure!
Saturday 4th January
We left the boat at the Haven Tourist park in Coolgardie and headed of 40kms to Kalgoorlie to source a replacement tyre. It was a pleasure to be able to open the Land Cruiser up a bit without the burden of towing something, a rare treat for us.
Ian Diffen’s supplied the required size in short order time and we were soon back in Coolgardie and hitched up. I was very annoyed to find that an attachment for my brand new and rather expensive towing mirrors was somewhere on the Kalgoorlie road. I should be able to make another along the way but it didn’t lessen the angst. To add to the annoyance, the Anderson Plug connecting the boat electrics to the car for charging detached along the way to Norseman and the lead dragged along the ground, cleaning up the contacts beautifully but destroying the plastic surround in the process.
The road to Norseman seems badly in need of maintenance, but then most WA roads do. Despite this, we arrived unscathed in Norseman and made a brief stop in town to pick up a couple of items we lacked, including a little clip that I figured I could use to repair the towing mirror.
From Norseman, there is no avoiding the long and arduous Nullarbor crossing, kilometre after kilometre of mostly straight road, including the 146km straight stretch between Balladonia and Caiguna, the longest in Australia. The Aussie successes against the Poms in the Fifth Test kept us amused, although the scoreboard is really starting to reach embarrassing proportions. I think the Brits have given up completely.
As we travelled east, the size of the trees diminished and the horizon widened. Where once I saw only boring scrub, our many miles of outback travel have attuned me to the true beauty of our dry woodland country. The area of woodland between Norseman and Balladonia stretches south to the coast and north all the way past Wiluna. Once considered valueless, it is now recognised as one of the last great natural woodlands in the World and certainly does a great deal to lock up trillions of tonnes of carbon.
By Cocklebiddy, woodland areas were few and far between, but one small area provided a lovely quiet overnight stop, around 45kms East of Cocklebiddy itself. We covered around 650km today, and need to cover at least 750 tomorrow if we are to remain on schedule. By changing drivers every 150km and maintaining a steady 85-90km, we will be OK. We should even be able to fit in some sight-seeing on the cliffs of the Great Australian Bight.
Sunday 5th January
Because we would enter SA, we set our clocks forward 2.5 hours before going to bed and decided to travel the whole day on SA time. This meant that when we got up at 6am (4 am WA time), it was barely light and at the other end of the day, we had to endure daylight until after 9pm. Hopefully, the whole daylight saving nonsense will never rear its head again in WA.
The day was cool, overcast with the occasional sessions of drizzle. The wind increased as we headed eastwards to the point where a camp shower didn’t appeal and we opted for a night in the Penong Caravan Park to access a decent hot shower.
There was very little to do on the 750km drive other than sleep, complain about the price of fuel, stare at the straight flat road ahead and listen to the Aussies smash the Poms in the cricket. On one occasion, we accessed one of the tracks down to the coastal cliffs to take in the sights along the Great Australian Bight. Back in 1989 on our round OZ trip, we all got on hands and knees to cautiously look over the edge of the cliff. These days, a three strand fence and a whole forest of pine poles prevents you getting even close to the edge. Even so, it’s a pretty awesome sight.
We were also surprised to find the SA authorities are now getting serious about quarantine. It used to be that they were only worried about fruit fly and grape vines. Now, all vegetable matter needs to be jettisoned at Ceduna, so we munched on grapes and cherries along the way. Our last night before Coffin Bay was spent at the little town of Penong, 70kms shy of Ceduna and the vegetable inspection station so we made sure we ate up big on the fruit and veg.
Somehow, now we are in another state, it really feels like the adventure has begun.
Monday 6th January
With only 400kms to Coffin Bay, we could afford to sleep in and the late sunrise supported that idea. We got away around 8:30, surrendered our meagre vegie scraps at the Ceduna checkpoint and left Highway One to journey SE on the Flinders Highway. The farms around here show the signs of years of hard times, although this year’s season has been good. Some are even still harvesting, with recent good rains promising to damage the grain that does remain in the fields. Machinery is old and small, the fences are mostly in disrepair and stock numbers are low. There are many photo opportunities with the many abandoned stone farm houses dotting the fields. The small towns we passed through along the way lacked the sparkle and polish that seems to come with good harvests and steady profits.
We stopped in Streaky Bay to replenish the fruit and veg. Streaky Bay did look quite prosperous with holiday crowds in evidence and the bakery well stocked. I have found that bakeries are a good indicator of economic health, and I made the decision to throw my weight behind the Streaky Bay economy by having a sausage roll.
The scenery down through Elliston and finally to Coffin Bay was picturesque, but days of driving had taken its toll and we were both stuffed by the time we arrived. The caravan park at Coffin Bay lived up to the good reports my research had given and the location was nothing short of spectacular. The bay itself is beautiful and surprisingly calm, given the 25-30 knot SW wind. Oyster farms dot the bay and spectacular beach houses are in abundance. We strolled along the shoreline “Oyster Walk” checked out the launching facilities and treated ourselves to a dozen of the finest oysters we’ve ever tasted. At $9 a dozen, they are well worth it.
Tuesday 7th January
We had a lazy day in the Coffin Bay Caravan Park sorting out a few bits and pieces. It is fortunate that we don’t intend getting on the water yet because the weather is very blowy, overcast and only around 21 degrees.
Tomorrow, we leave the boat here in the park and head off to Melbourne for a week of cricket and tennis. It is around 700kms to Melbourne from here but we’ll take out time and see some sight along the way. There is a car ferry from Cowell across Spencers Gulf but we have the time to go up through Port Augusta so we may give that a miss, or use it on the way back. We should be back here before Australia Day and, hopefully, be out on the water when the crowds arrive.
Our trips to the Gascoynes and Pilbara so often prove to be a battle with the weather. This year, we have endured both rain and wind, with very few days when the winds have dropped to pleasant levels. We seem to spend much of the day huddled inside the yacht, outside being too bleak to soak up any sunshine. Neither it is just us. Everywhere we go, the locals are also complaining about the temperatures and the radio reports things like frost in Newman and 6 degrees in Broome.The plus side is that the country is green. In the case of the Shark Bay area, I don’t think I have ever seen it better. Despite this, we drove all the way from the Murchison River to Exmouth and didn’t see ANY livestock until a flock of sheep near Learmonth. I guess the stations were so dry before this year they had de-stocked and haven’t got back up to speed yet.
We managed a 9 day sail out of Denham, going North to Cape Lesueur then across Denham Sound to Dirk Hartog Island. After a couple of lovely days, we had to hole up in a sheltered anchorage to hide from the wind and rain. This was followed by more strong winds. We managed to inch our way along the island and eventually work our way back to Denham. In typical fashion, the weather had turned idyllic as we hauled the boat out of the water but after 9 days we needed to restock on a few supplies anyway.
I can’t say we went hungry out in the boat. The fish turned it on as usual, we found some lovely fresh oysters along the way and even managed a little bit of crab. Christine has perfected the art of bread making on board, using a Coleman stove-top oven. The good thing is that the physical work involved with sailing uses up all the calories and a few more.
From Denham, we stopped in a Hamelin Telegraph Station for a night. Having not been there since 1979 when it was still a working Post Office, I was thrilled to see the way in which the old buildings have been preserved. It is hard to believe the place dates from 1884 and I suspect that the high calcium levels in the surrounds have somehow preserved the timbers. We found the old water-cooled shade-house that we sat in on a hot February day with John Sellanger and Derek Blackman. It had walls made of two layers of chicken wire, filled with tamarisk tree needles, and drip fed with bore water. The whole effect was amazing. It still existed, although it needed some more tamarisk needle packing to restore it. We explained to the maintenance guy how it worked and he appeared keen to take it on as a project. We had a wonderful tour of the old telegraph station itself and even went and said “hello” to the stromatolites. They seemed to accept us as living fossils.
At Exmouth, we gave up on the weather, there being no apparent end to the howling Easterlies. We had exactly the same experience in 2009 and found the same solution. We left and drove East (into the wind) to Point Samson and set up in the delightful Cove Caravan Park. This is relatively new and is very well appointed.At Point Samson, we did managed a 3 day sail, exploring Delambre Island, Port Robinson, Port Walcott and Dixon Island. The seas around here can be much bigger than we are used to, the huge tidal surges pushing up some large swells and generating some ugly waters at times. At other times, when the tide is lower and in the lee of an island, the corals and life in the water makes it worthwhile.
Delambre is a beautiful place, full of nesting turtles, corals, oysters and fish. We enjoyed a wonderful sunset in glassy calm conditions, later drying out totally as the tide fell. We even talked about staying for 3 or 4 days in paradise. By 11pm, the tide was in, all 5 metres of it, and the tidal flow held us broadside to the swell. We rolled terribly. Sleep was impossible. Even moving around the boat was a chore. This lasted about 4 hours until the tide had fallen again so at least by morning, we were calm again, if not tired. Another couple in a similar sized yacht had elected to anchor out on a mooring so they just rolled all night. We stayed around for the morning fishing before sailing back to the mainland and the shelter of Port Robinson for a much better night’s sleep. With yet another strong wind warning in sight, we headed in early. The sail back was comfortable, although keeping well clear of the shipping around Cape Lambert kept us vigilant. The work boats and tugs in this part of the World seem to delight in running down recreational vessels and the bow wave from an ocean going tug is not to be laughed at.
From here, it is on to Broome to store Sandpiper for a while and a spot of work (there’s that word) in One Arm Point.
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