Mackay to Townsville

Mackay to Townville

  

Thursday 2nd September 1993   

    The seas are calm and it's a nice sunny day as we leave the Inner Harbour.  This is a new experience and I'm feeling a tad apprehensive, but also eager at the prospect of the trip.  There's no turning back now and I suppose it's a sobering moment at least for Brian and me.  There's not a lot of talking going on as we each take in the scenery.



A sombre moment looking forward into the unknown.

    Paul has been a picture of confidence, calmly issuing his instructions.  I reflected on the effort to get the boat ready, the problems already dealt with and the unknown challenges ahead.  I had to acknowledge myself, that to get the boat to its present stage would have incurred a good dose of bother, frustration and additional expense if I'd tried it alone.
    The seas have risen to slight swells when we get just outside the entrance to Mackay Harbour.  The overheating problem starts again, most likely caused by the slight rolling of the boat and creating air locks in the water-cooling system.  The water-trap is unbolted again and this time is dropped down as far as it'll go.  The temperature gauge needle slowly returns to its normal position and that seems to be the end of it.
    Once clear of the harbour the sails are hoisted for the first time.  The forestay has an interesting metal track system on it which allows quick sail changes.  There's no need to physically clip each of a sail's hanks to the forestay.  Each sail has its own metre-long section of track, which simply clips into place as needed, making the process of changing sails much simpler and quicker.  We spend a little time sitting on the foredeck, attaching each of the headsails to its track before lashing them down ready to hand.
    The breeze is gentle and reasonably constant.  Lowana's sails catch it and straight away she heels over on a slight angle.  With a slight jerk she picks up speed before Paul turns off the motor.  The relative silence is wonderful and we can now hear the commercial radio playing some music.  This is just too good.
    We rock along with good breezes during the afternoon and the first half of the night under a full moon, in beautiful sailing conditions.  The boat handling proves to be excellent and any concerns I might have had about that are dispelled.

Friday 3rd September 1993
    At 3:00 am Brian wakes me from a fitful doze with a gentle shake on the shoulder.  It's my turn to stand watch and there's a welcome cup of tea ready as I climb out to look around.  We've been making good progress and are passing through the Whitsunday Islands.  When I'm properly awake, Brian gives me a handover briefing then heads off to his own bunk.  Paul is also hovering around to make sure I know what to do but eventually goes to bed, although he's readily available in the quarter-berth just one step away inside the wheelhouse.
    The scenery under the full moon is delightful.  There's a slight haze but it does not obscure the lights ashore or the dark shapes of the islands as we glide by.  The night is still enough that an occasional raucous shout by some merrymaker ashore can be heard faintly off in the distance, above the soft gurgling of the water sliding past the hull.

Dawn over Hayman Island in the Whitsunday Group.

     Our good conditions don't last and the weather turns on us later in the morning.  The wind increases to an estimated 30 knots or more bringing large seas with it.  The boat starts pitching and heeling up to 30-degrees causing the galley crockery, various utensils and food stores to start rattling around.  Paper and towels have to be packed around these items to prevent any breakages or excessive movement.
    This is the crews' first experience of moderate to rough seas, and of course being new to this sort of thing don't really know what to expect or what's normal.  Our skipper is a steadying influence as he calmly moves around the boat telling us what we need to do.  We are each wearing a safety harness clipped to a strong point, so that should a wave sweep one of us off our feet we will remain attached to the boat.  Not that any waves have yet come aboard.
    In the meantime the Auto Helm 2000 tillerpilot and the GPS are both functioning perfectly and there's no need for anyone to physically steer the boat, however at least one person remains as a lookout in the cockpit at all times.  The rest of the day passes with no relief from the constant pounding and hard rocking but at least we make some good time.

Saturday 4th September 1993
    During the night we clear Cape Bowling Green and it's still a little bumpy in the morning as we come up to Cape Cleveland, which juts up off the mainland to the east of Townsville. 
    Magnetic Island is a few more hours away where we'll be staying tonight under the hospitality of our man Brian and his wife Jenny.  The island is situated just off Townsville with a population of 2,500 and is dominated by Mt Cook at 497 metres.  Captain James Cook named it when he passed by in 1770 on his discovery voyage along the East Coast of Australia.  His compass had started to act strangely and he wrongly thought the island had magnetic properties hence the name.
    As we clear the cape, contact is made with the local maritime coastal radio station, Radio Townsville on VHF Channel 16.  A radiotelephone call is requested and when patched through, Brian speaks to Jenny to arrange to collect us when we arrive.
    The run to Horseshoe Bay at the northern end of Magnetic Island is uneventful.  When the anchor splashes down mid-morning we'd travelled the 200 miles from Mackay in 45 hours without pushing it in some rather lumpy seas.  If the rule of thumb for cruising sailboats is arguably reckoned to be an average of 100 miles a day, then we're doing okay for novices.

Left: Lowana at anchor in
Horseshoe Bay, 
Magnetic Island
   
   We drop the dinghy and get to shore under an overcast sky to find Jenny waiting to greet us.  Our hosts point out things of interest as we drive around to the other side of the island to their house, where we are promptly handed a beer.  This is gladly accepted given some of the weather that we have been through.  It had only been a relatively short trip but nonetheless I am glad of the breather.
    The rest of the day is spent on a tour of the island, about half of which is a National Park.  As we drive around we see lots of nice little coves offering a bit of seclusion on a sandy beaches bracketed by rocks.
    The island used to be quite a tourist spot but right now seems to have declined a bit. 

The tourist beach at Horseshoe Bay.

   Toward dusk some Butcherbirds and Kookaburras fly down to the front yard where Jenny is waiting with some small titbits for them.  The Butcherbirds are similar to Magpies with their black and white plumage and share a similar cheekiness, allowing us to get within a hand's reach of them.  The laughing calls of other Kookaburras echo all around in the bush near the house.
    That night Jenny prepares a delightful roast dinner, leading to a friendly chat into the late evening, once again catching up on news.  I think we might have been a little more tired than we realised as we all slept soundly.

Sunday 5th September 1993
    After breakfast, the local shops invite our attention and we saunter around them for a little while.  Some more food and other provisions are bought, plus a length of pipe for the anchor winch which proved to be a useful purchase later on. 
    We're not in a particular hurry and it's almost midday before we're back around at Horseshoe Bay.  After retrieving the dinghy we make a few trips back and forth to the beach carting out water to top up the main water tank, and taking the additional stores out.
    Jenny came out to Lowana, curious to have a look around but doesn't stay long before returning to the beach.  She'd thoughtfully prepared several frozen stews for us and placed them into an Engle portable fridge/freezer, which is now hooked up to the boat's 12vdc power supply.  Hooks are installed to hold the unit in place inside the wheelhouse.