Townsville to Cairns

Townsville to Cairns

 
   In the early part of the afternoon with everything set to go, the anchor is weighed and we set our sails for the Palm Island group to the northwest.  Once again we encounter rather big seas on the passage, consisting of large swells rather than actual waves.  These are coming at us from behind, and I watch some of these mini-monsters rolling up and passing underneath.
    I'm getting a little concerned, as the back of the boat seems to dig into the face of the waves as they reach us before lifting herself up over them.  Seawater is constantly coming aboard along the decks at the stern, being prevented from entering the cockpit by a high coaming around it.  As each wave passes through we seem to slide down the back of it, and the cycle repeats itself as the next roller comes through.
    More than once I cast an uneasy glance towards the skipper but he simply moves around apparently unconcerned, whistling a little tune as he looks at this and that.  By now I'm learning to trust his abilities as a seaman and I think his manner is deliberate, but I still felt I'd better point out what is happening, just in case. 
    His response is to just shrug his shoulders and grin at me.  As strange as it may seem, this is a defining moment for me as a sailor as I pondered on that reaction.  It occurred to me that one could never really enjoy sailing, if waves like these were always going to be regarded as a potential menace.  They could be negotiated safely, even pleasantly, if handled with the necessary skill, attention and proper respect. 
    It was also a classic example of how the confident conduct of a skipper could affect a crew in a positive manner, and it was good experience for me too in a way.  I was gaining first-hand experience in how a crew, especially inexperienced ones will look to the skipper not only for instructions but also for reassurance.
    It's already pitch black as we arrive in Challenger Bay on the western side of Great Palm Island.  Conditions are calm and the water is flat however it takes us a little while to pick our way into the anchorage, as there are other boats moored here.  It's necessary to use a spotlight to pick out the occasional mooring line floating on or just under the surface of the water, but we find a spot just off the main jetty where we can put the anchor down.
    We have completed the 30 miles from Magnetic Island to Great Palm Island in five and a half hours.  It's nice to get a rest from the constant motion of the seas outside and to be able to make a dinner in comfort.  This consists of one of the frozen stews, which doesn't take long to heat up on the gas stove.  The Engle fridge/freezer works well but is proving to be heavy on the power ( perhaps too heavy.  We sit around the dinette table and enjoy the meal in silent comfort, and a chilled glass of wine really hits the spot. 
    After dinner Paul tells us we are to push on.  Reluctantly we clean up the dishes and stow loose items away, then drag ourselves outside to begin the task of getting underway.  I would have been happy to stay on the anchor and get a good night's rest.  It would have meant avoiding the roughness of the seas waiting out there and include a daylight passage past the imposing Hinchinbrook Island.
    The anchor is pulled up and we start to pick our way out of Challenger Bay once again before turning northwards.  There are several more islands to the north of Great Palm Island and our course takes us on the western side of them.  We soon find ourselves reaching up to eight knots under full sail until we clear Orpheus Island, where the seas get bigger and we have to reef the sails to prevent from being overpowered.

Monday 6th September 1993
    Some good miles pass under the keel during the night and by early morning Hinchinbrook Island is receding in the distance behind us.  While I would have liked to see more of it, I understood why Paul wanted to make use of the winds available at the time.  No doubt there'll be more calm days ahead in the tropics, which is probably why he decided to push on last night while we had the wind.

Paul with the morning brew.

    The sailing is still good although we continue to have big seas following as we pass by Dunk Island.  Captain Cook also named this on 8th June 1770 after Lord Montague Dunk, the First Lord of the British Admiralty.  Royal Australian Air Force flying boats operated from the island during World War 2 and radar equipment located on top of its 271m Mt Kootaloo, were instrumental in the naval Battle of the Coral Sea against the Japanese.  It's now another popular tourist resort on the Great Barrier Reef and there have even been movies made here.
    After lunch we reach a position off Innisfail but are too far off shore to see the township.  The seas have eased to some extent and conditions are more comfortable, except for a little bit of local rain in the late afternoon, which doesn't do much except make everything topsides damp.

Under a goose-winged rig and a heavy sky.

    Our sailing is settling into a routine.  We stand watch, eat, sleep, read a book or just sit around, perhaps chatting or sitting alone with our thoughts.  By nightfall we've made steady progress on smooth seas with a breeze coming from dead astern.  As we come abreast off Cairns in the late evening, the weather is still a bit misty with drizzly rain at times.  Once again we are too far off to see the lights.