Over The Top!

12/7/2017   Seisia

Continuing on from Yorkeys Knob .....


As suspected, there are some stunning anchorages north of Cairns, many of which are little more than a coral reef with a smudge of yellow sand on top, but boast crystal clear water, birds, and plenty of black tipped reef sharks.




 Low Islets - picture postcard holiday destination.

No swimming with these guys today.

From Low Islets my latest stalker, son Baillie, picked it right; yes, Hope Islands. How could I not go there, being my name-sake?

The pass between the islands may be fine for boats with more than one person on board, but for me on my own, it was a potential hit or miss. 

The tricky part is spotting the “bommies” - kind of vertical ant-hills of coral upsurges ready to take the bottom out of your boat if you unsuspectingly go over one – which I did, luckily with a couple of inches to spare. Hard enough to spot from the bow or half way up the mast – impossible from the cockpit. 

Again, luck was on my side.  (Occasionally my more superstitious side thinks about cats and their nine lives.)

Some of the yachts en route to begin the Indonesia rally, enjoying Lizard Island

Lizard Island is a wonderland with magnificent scenery and best of all, a sheltered, swell-free anchorage. I spent 6 days there, relaxing, hiking, snorkelling over colourful coral gardens with giant 100 year old clams and made new friendships over bonfires on the beach. This is the cruising lifestyle at its best.

At the next stop, Flinders Island, a rescue helicopter airlifted a French single-hander off his boat with suspected bowel haemorrhage.  He was totally distraught at having to leave his yacht on anchor in this remote spot.  We heard later that his insurance arranged for a boat from Cooktown to return him to his boat, so it ended better than it might have.  Made me realize just how vulnerable we are out here. What was interesting was that another French couple alerted the rescue mission via France.

Very fortunate that there was an area of flat land for the helicopter to land.

For me, the sailing inside the reef has been excellent, with mostly flat water and tail winds up to 20 knots.  It requires constant vigilance to dodge the myriads of islands and reefs and the odd container ship, but has been mostly enjoyable.  There seemed to be a favourable current assisting me in doing the 75 mile leg from Morris Island to Escape River in 12 hours, quite a record for little Shanti.

Over the top end, Cape York was a significant milestone for me. 

Coming up to the top of Australia, strong tidal flows pushed boat speed up to 9 knots at times.

Of course the final hoorah of self congratulation wasn’t going to pass unchallenged, so from Escape River on, the wind increased a lot and I ended up in a difficult predicament.

Sailing back south on the other side of the Cape, the seas were high, the wind gusting up to 40 knots, and when it came time to turn into the approach to Seisia, my little “egg-beater” of a prop was unable to drive the boat into wind and waves. Couldn’t even make one knot of boat speed and it wasn’t possible to try and tack, because the channel was very shallow on either side of the leads.  I gave up and ran with the wind until the next island, (Parau)which was little more than a large rock, but gave some shelter.  Dropping anchor there at least gave me some time to take stock of the situation.  I knew I couldn’t stay there, so plotted a few possible courses out. 

I finally managed to up anchor and claw my way back to windward, sailing across some very shallow waters, trying to stay in close to the shelter of Red Island. 

You can see from this screen shot of my approach that I entered the leads about half way down the channel.  The wind was so strong it took me nearly two hours to cover the short distance in to the anchorage. I felt so, so relieved to make it safely in. (Another cat’s life?)

 

Lifting the dinghy stops the crocs from using it as a teething ring.

The gorgeous crew of Hard Yakka and I took the ferry across to Thursday Island on Thursday.

Going to miss these lovelies when we go our separate ways.

I realized yesterday that I may have just had my last day sail up this reef strewn Coral Coast.  From here across the Arafura sea to Darwin is about 750 miles of virtually open water.  No more day-hopping, pushing to reach the next anchorage before dark. 


Of course, this also means no more sleeping through the night. I’m not sure yet which is the harder.  I guess I’ll find out.