Chapter 8 The Dash for Darwin
Getting ready for sea
We got back to ALIESHA late on 27th April. It was sobering to think that, if all goes to plan, we will reach the Mediterranean via Suez in about a year's time. Our return journey will take much less time than the outward one - must be something to do with being grandparents! But the distances to be covered and the shortage of good places to effect repairs meant we needed to get ALIESHA into really good shape before we set sail.
The biggest job was to buy and fit two high output solar panels to reduce our need to run the engine to charge the batteries. Apart from the noise and the use of precious diesel fuel, we had been warned that running the engine while stationary did it no good at all and would lead to increased oil consumption and in time to expensive repairs.
In between jobs we fitted in a day trip to Brisbane. It
is a thoroughly modern city, laid out on either side of the
river. We took
a boat trip up and down that river to get an overall impression and liked what
we saw. The feel of the city was more relaxed than Sydney and the Botanical
Gardens support a fine
restaurant where we took lunch on a shady verandah.
It was all very civilised and a welcome change from the marina, but somewhat spoiled
when we returned to our hired car to find a A$60.00 parking ticket. We had
both mis-read the kerbside signs, which seemed confusing to us Poms but we didn't
let it spoil a good day.
North to Cairns (See Chart)
On 14th May we sailed away from Scarborough to make our way to Darwin via Cairns, Cape York and the Gulf of Carpentaria. We had to be in Darwin by about the 7th July, to get Indonesian visas in time to join the "Sail Indonesia 2006 Rally" which we had decided to join as a safety measure and to get the other paperwork we needed painlessly. The distance is about 2200 miles. As an ocean voyage that would take about 16 days but the route lies along stretches of beautiful coastline and twists and turns around the islands and reefs of the great Barrier Reef. This meant day sailing wherever possible and so, building in a few stops along the way, we had a pretty tight schedule to maintain.
First "must see" place was Fraser Island, the world's largest sand island and highly recommended by both Kate and Jon. It is possible to sail between the Island and the mainland, entering the channel over the aptly-named "Wide Bay Bar". As we approached, the wind and the sea kept rising and it was clear that the Bar would be interesting, with big breaking seas across it at the shallowest part. Should we anchor a few miles back and wait, or press on in the dark, relying on the leading lights to guide us in? Two things convinced us to carry on. One was the weather forecast, which promised stronger winds for the following three days, with bigger seas to match. The other was a radio chat with the local Coastguard watch officer, himself a sailor, who said he would have no qualms about coming across that evening - but of course the decision was ours.
So come across we did, in the light of a fitful moon dancing among the flying clouds. We couldn't see the breakers, only hear their roar, but none troubled us and soon we reached calmer water, could pull into a sheltered anchorage for the night and turn in for a well deserved sleep.
Late next morning a yacht came to join us. She was about ALIESHA's size and we got to chatting with her crew. They had waited for the morning to cross the bar. "How was it?" we asked. "Bl**dy terrifying" was the reply. "We were swamped twice and we saw 14 knots of land speed on the GPS as we surfed off another breaker". If that Coastguard had been within reach, Pam would have kissed him.
Well, the days went by and we sailed most of them, dawn to
dusk, wanting to get ahead of schedule to spend some time in the fabled
Whitsunday Islands. For three days before our arrival the weather was as
perfect as it could be, the "sort of day you dreamed about when you decided to
buy a boat" as one of our fellow sailors put it. But as we reached the
Whitsundays, the skies
clouded over, the wind rose and it was not at all what we
had hoped for. Indeed, apart from half a day on Whitsunday Island
(which also happened to be Whitsunday!), when the sun shone and we strolled along a coastal path admiring the
views, it was like a wet bank holiday weekend in England. We cut our losses and
sailed on to Townsville.
Townsville is a lovely city apart from the docks where
bauxite and other minerals are loaded in bulk into huge ships from Japan and
China. It is nicely laid out and has a wonderful museum which featured an
exhibition based on the wreck of the Pandora, the ship sent to collect the
mutineers from the Bounty. It also has a fabulous restaurant called YOTZ,
on the promenade; Aussie food at its very best. It has grog shops
and supermarkets and a splendid hat shop where we both bought sun hats. We
felt like a break and stayed four days.
Off again, through the Hinchinbrooke Channel where we scanned
the mudbanks for crocodiles but saw none,
overnight in Mourilyan (sounds
Cornish) where the trees were almost bare of foliage, the result of a very bad
cyclone called Larry back at the end of March and then on to Cairns in company
with ICE MAIDEN and CALABAR, our companions since the Whitsundays.
Cairns is the most northerly city in Queensland and almost the most northerly settlement. It is a tourist town but we rather liked it. We visited the museum and were amused to recognise so many items from our own youth being displayed. (Are we getting old or what?)
With Vic and Marge from ICE MAIDEN we hired a car and toured the Tablelands that lie behind the city. Here too there were signs of Larry's passing, fallen timber, roofless barns and leafless trees. The banana crop had been ruined and bananas were A$10 a kilo if you could find them. It seemed very fertile land, not unlike parts of Britain, and we felt very much at home.
Another day we took the scenic railway up to Kuranda, on the Tablelands, and enjoyed learning something about Aboriginal art. In one gallery we fell in love with a simple painting, depicting one of the stories of the "Dreaming". When there is no moon the water spirits come up from the deep and dance and sing. If they are happy, the weather for the next month will be good. If they are not happy..." We felt it was so appropriate we bought it and hung in on the main bulkhead. It also goes very well with the upholstery! We returned to Cairns from Kuranda via the Sky Rail, which runs for 4.7 miles over the forest canopy, with amazing views all around and beneath us as we silently glided towards the coastal plain at the foot of the rain forest.
Cairns to Cape York (See Chart)
Look at the map.
Cairns is about halfway from Brisbane to Cape York and now we were behind schedule.
First stop, the scenic Low Islets, where it blew half a gale. On the next
morning without a stop, we had a long sail of 70 miles past Hope Island to an
anchorage in the lee of Cape Bedford. The weather got worse and worse,
lowering skies and rising winds. As we rounded the Cape, we saw the wind
instrument register 55 knots. Darkness was falling as we dropped anchor in
4 metres of water, but still over a mile from the beach. Our friends Gord
and Ginny on ASCENSION followed us in, as did ICE MAIDEN nearer midnight.
Being so far from shore, there was enough fetch for the waves
to get quite large and the boats plunged and
reared, tugging at their anchor
chains. It was pretty uncomfortable, but better than being at sea, dodging
the coral of the Great Barrier Reef and the many fishing boats which work these
waters whatever the weather.
Next morning dawned grey, wet and very windy. We had to stay put. Even the fishing boats were taking shelter.
On the third morning conditions were good enough for us all to make a move. We raised our anchors, not an easy task for they had buried themselves deep in the hard sand and didn't want to break out. Off we dashed under minimal sail for nearby Lizard Island where the Cruising Guide promised a peaceful anchorage, pleasant walks ashore and even a chance to snorkel. (We should explain that swimming in Australian waters is fraught with dangers. In addition to the sharks and the box jellyfish (lethal and invisible) and a host of other "stingers", there are estuarine crocodiles. The warning signs say "These animals are aggressive and may attack humans without provocation". Anyone for a dip?)
Lizard Island was all the Guide had promised, even more. There must have been twenty boats there by evening, including our old friends from Tonga and New Zealand, Eckhardt and Ursula on AZIMUT. The first day we just lazed; on the second we walked across the island to a lovely bay on the south side. Along the way we saw big goanna lizards and several birds including a rainbow-coloured bee eater. That night there was an impromptu party ashore and most cruisers turned up. We even discovered some pirate's treasure in a cask behind the beaach. The following day Dick donned scuba gear to clean the bottom of the boat and even to enjoy the corals on a nearby reef, but Pam stayed dry, concerned about the stingers which had badly stung one of our friends only that morning.
By now we were really behind schedule but could not safely sail at night to catch up. So it was up at three or four in the morning and off to sea, covering 60, 70 and once 84 miles before dusk, drop the anchor somewhere sheltered, eat a hasty meal and crash until the alarm dragged us out of our sleep to repeat the process, day after day after day. The winds were always behind us, always about the 25 knot mark and so we made good time but this wind strength requires concentration at all times and we were getting pretty tired. From talking with others over the radio we knew we were not alone in wanting this part of the passage to end.
As we drew nearer to Cape York the scenery became much less dramatic and, frankly, rather boring. There are no more mountains with lush green slopes. Instead, picture a succession of low, reddish coloured hills with the occasional brilliant white "sand blow" to break the monotony. These are silica sand, used for making glass. There are a number of mining operations along the coast, each with a jetty and loading gear to fill the holds of the bulk carriers which make their way along the narrow channels inside the reef to get there. We carefully shaped our course to pass behind one such monster, only to find that she was pointing straight at us just minutes later. Dick called her on VHF radio to enquire what her intentions were? "I'm going to anchor" was the reply, presumably because conditions were too rough for her to go alongside the jetty to start loading.
The Escape River offers the last safe haven before Cape York. The day we sailed there the sky grew darker and the winds blew even harder than usual, which meant a tricky crossing of the bar at the entrance. ICE MAIDEN lead the way in through a heavy rain squall. We used radar to keep us in the middle of the mile wide entrance as GPS is unreliable up here. Although it tells us the boat's position and we can plot that on a chart, the chart may be inaccurate by up to a quarter of a mile!
ICE MAIDEN fell victim to this problem going hard aground on a mud bank while supposedly sailing in 5 metres of water. By anchoring ourselves just off the bank, we were able to pass her a line and then to haul her off by judicious use of our engine to keep us in deeper water once we had raised our anchor. John from BLUESIPP, another Halberg Rassy 36 whom we had met in Fiji and who had helped us with our broken rigging problems, arrived in his dinghy and piloted us both the rest of the way to the anchorage. It was good to see him again and the following night we had a "dinner party" on ALIESHA for John, Vic and Marge, a very merry affair and a masterpiece of improvisation from Pam who had not seen a shop for over three weeks!
We stayed three days in the Escape River waiting for a weather window
and favourable tide to round Cape York, only 20 miles to our north. The route lies through Albany
Passage, a four-mile strait between the mainland and Albany Island where the tides can run at 5 knots and more. Every day we waited a few
more boats would
arrive until there were ten of us. We all raised anchor and
set sail together so it had something
of a rally feel to it already. In the event it all went like clockwork:
the tide stream was running with us, the wind was from behind as usual and the
speed over the ground varied from six to ten knots so we fairly flew along.
And then there we were off Cape York, the most northerly
tip of Australia and turning our bows west for Darwin. Only 800 miles to
go!
Over the Top"" to Darwin (see Chart)
After an overnight stop in Simpsons Bay, just around Cape York, we sailed across the Gulf of Carpentaria in two and a half days. It was strange to be out of sight of land after so many days following the coast. The winds eased down to a comfortable 15-20 knots and we had an easy trip although the seas were quite confused and we took a while to get used to the motion. About the only excitement was being buzzed by a twin-engined aircraft from the Coast Patrol who came up on the radio and demanded our details. Australia has a problem with illegal immigrants from Papua New Guinea and Indonesia and patrols her northern border intensively, as we were to discover.
Approaching Cape Wessel on the north west side of the Gulf, Dick was jolted from a mid-morning doze by a very loud voice on the radio. It came from a Coastguard patrol boat which had crept up on us from astern and who also wanted our particulars. No sooner had we given them than a spotter plane flew over us and we went through the whole process again. Everyone was very polite and friendly, but they were there every day and sometimes more often. It broke the monotony however, for the coast of the Top End, as Australians call this part of the country, is uniformly low and uninteresting.
Suddenly we wanted the trip to be over so we pushed on,
sometimes stopping overnight in a deserted
anchorage and sometimes we sailed
through the night. At last the day came when we sailed from nearby Cape Hotham into Darwin Harbour, a beautiful
sunny morning with a perfect sailing breeze. ALIESHA flew along
under full sail, leading a group of nine yachts who had shared the last
anchorage. Darwin is built on a promontory, maybe 60 metres high, and
seemed neat, compact, well laid out and civilised. We sailed round
the wharf area to Frances Bay and met up with Hugh and Brenda
on SCOTIA, who kindly invited us for a steak dinner. We had not seen a
shop since Cairns, 25 days previously. It was a very kind gesture and we
thoroughly enjoyed the evening.
Through other friends we were lucky to find a berth in Tipperary Waters Marina, about a mile up river from where we were anchored. This enabled us to provision the boat, lay in copious amounts of duty-free beer and spirits, wine (we shall be a long time in Muslim countries once we leave here!), get paperwork done and cope with the huge backlog of laundry in the small laundromat. We soon found our way around central Darwin which is really very small but offered everything we needed. The city was devastated by a cyclone on Christmas Eve in 1974 and consequently most of it dates from that time. As the capital of the Northern Territory, there are many public buildings built to withstand the worst that Nature can devise. There are no real high-rise buildings and the style of architecture seems to fit the surroundings perfectly. The climate is pleasant but we were assured by the locals that all this changes when the "Wet" arrives. Then temperatures and humidity soar and life outside of air- conditioning becomes quite unpleasant. We were happy to take their word for it!
Into the outback
We awarded ourselves a few days' break from the boat and all things nautical to visit Kakadu, a national park some 250km south east of Darwin, and nearby Arnhem Land. Arnhem Land is Aboriginal land, a unique area where the Manilakarr people live a lifestyle more closely linked to their true culture and heritage. Access is restricted to permit holders only and even then visitors are only allowed to go to specified sites. It was our chance to see the "real" Australia, the frontier.
In Kakadu we saw and learnt about centuries old Aboriginal rock paintings; feasted our eyes on dramatic landscapes; saw crocodiles and amazing birdlife on the Yellow Water and other billabongs. An extract from Pam's journal reads: "Across the wetlands we could see flocks of magpie geese and whistling duck. Four different species of egret waded in the shallows together with the occasional jabiru, a large stork-like bird which is endemic to this region. And all the while, crocodiles lay low in the water or amongst the reeds ready to catch the unwary. One large crocodile, who had obviously enjoyed a good lunch, was basking on a mud bank with his mouth wide open! Kites and sea eagles competed in the air for prime nesting sites; a baby crocodile shared a tiny islet with a group of shelducks; a magnificent spotted heron looked down on us in the tour boat with disdain from its perch on an overhanging branch and a brilliantly-coloured blue kingfisher turned his back on us as we glided by. What a magic place!"
We swam in a rocky pool below the Barramundi falls, our guide having assured us that there was little risk of a crocodile being present. However we did notice that he didn't join us! Pam had her first experience of sleeping in a tent and proved to herself why she hadn't done it before!
Our day in Arnhem Land was a wonderful experience enhanced by our excellent guide, Les Huddlestone. Now you would think with a name like that he would be pure Yorkshire. Wrong! His grandfather was a priest (!) from England but his grandmother was an Aborigine. Les took us to a number of varied and interesting sites which are of importance to the Aborigines. Again we saw fine examples of rock paintings, the most recent of which included an Australian WWII bomber that must have flown overhead on its way to Darwin to join in the combat against the Japanese.. He explained many things about their culture, bush tucker and how they prepared it, and some of their customs. Bill Neidjie, a well-respected Aboriginal leader and poet, had recently died and his body had been taken to a cave in a huge rocky outcrop where it will stay until only the skeleton remains. This outcrop is called Hawk Dreaming and the Aborigines believe that is where all the hawks come from. Later, as requested by him, he will be moved permanently to another prominent site overlooking the wetlands through which the East Alligator River flows.
After Hawk Dreaming, Les took us to the shallow cave where Bill Neidjie lived and raised his family. We could clearly see the letters of the alphabet painted on the roof with which he taught his children to read, and a picture of the Sydney Harbour road bridge. He was a much-travelled man and it was through his vision that Kakadu was opened up to the white man for mineral extraction and tourism, and that permits are granted for restricted access to Arnhem Land. His son, by the way, lives in a modern house not far from the cave!
And so we say farewell to Australia. What a wonderful note to end on! Our next chapter will describe the Darwin to Kupang Rally and our passage to, and arrival in Kupang, West Timor. We have been eight wonderful months in Australia but we are ready for pastures new. The next leg will certainly be challenging for us with a foreign language to learn and new and exciting things to do and see. We are ready for it!
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