Thursday 14 March 2019 (Home at Western Port Marina, Hastings)
Wednesday 13 March 2019 (At sea in Bass Strait)

After several days of strong, cold winds and overcast skies, Wednesday dawned calm and sunny with the arrival of a slow-moving high-pressure system.

Around breakfast time, John’s inquisitiveness with the “slackness” of Chimere’s steering led him to crawl into the back of the boat to inspect the mechanism.  This soon resulted in a request for spanners and a hammer to be passed in, which in turn led to the removal soon after of a large metal pipe that connects the rudder with the steering wheel.

Whilst still functional, four bolt-holes in a vital universal joint had become flogged, creating excessive looseness that translated into there being half a rotation of the steering wheel BEFORE the rudder actually began turning. 

It now seemed imperative to get it fixed before we headed back out to sea and so it pushed its way to the top of the current “To Do List” … even higher than visiting the Cheese Factory.

Who could fix such a thing?  There was only one thing to do … call our fisherman friend Russell, he would know …

“Yeh, ya need to go to Williams Engineering, they’re on the road down to the Currie Harbour”, said Russell, “They can fix anything”  

So it was that our first stop off was Williams Engineering … on our way to the Cheese Factory … but the reality was, if we couldn’t get the steering column fixed, we weren’t going anywhere.

As it turned out, we must have looked a rather pathetic sight … quite obviously out-of-town sailors, walking in with a vital piece of equipment in our hands, asking nicely … “do you think there’s anything you could do to fix it??”

With plenty of work already in progress, it’s not as if they were waiting for us to drop in, but with a wry smile the first thing the engineering-bloke asked was … “… when do you need it, when are you leaving?” 

“We were hoping to leave this afternoon, all being well”, I replied.

In addition to the flogged-out universal joint, Ray was also able to point to a lack of lubrication between the shaft and the sleeve, which created excessive friction that no doubt contributed to the first problem.

“OK, leave it with me.  Can you pop back after lunch?  Give us a couple of hours”  

There was nothing more we could do.  From here it was up to the engineering-bloke to weave his magic.  We were totally in his hands

Next stop, the King Island Cheese Factory … https://www.kingislanddairy.com.au  I’d been here on our previous trip in 2014/15, so I knew what to expect, in particular the “Cheese Eating Room”.  Some referred to this as a “Tasting Room”, but it’s hard to restrain yourself when they put plates of cheese out with generous supplies of cracker biscuits to boot.  They even have a “Tasting Notes” sheet, with pencils, for you to keep tabs as you work your way around the tables.
I did my best to find fault, but in the end I had to give them all a ten out of ten.

Whilst the King Island Dairy might have lost money on my “tasting” habits, they more than made up for it with our crew’s eventual purchases at the counter.      

Time was getting on and after a relatively quick drive down the coast to view the drying kelp, and stop off at the garage to fill the car with petrol, we had the car back at the hire place around midday.

Lunch at the King Island bakery, just a short walk away, was next and it is here that John ordered a wallaby pie.  We jokingly referred to the profusion of “road-kill” – mostly wallaby – we’d seen, but were quickly assured that these wallaby pies had nothing do with those wallabies.  But there seemed something symbolic in John, our only New Zealander, eating a wallaby pie when his fellow kiwis,  The All Blacks, have been eating up our national rugby team, the Wallabies, for years …

Our next biggest hurdle, apart from picking up the (hopefully) fixed steering column, was getting back to Grassy Harbour, 30-odd kilometres away on the other side of the island.  Nothing seemed to be jumping out of the woodwork and so I called the only taxi on the island.  The chap who answered was a really nice bloke, but he admitted that he was currently “hanging kelp”, then he had to pick up the kids, before going out to the airport and wouldn’t be available till after 5:15pm.  “Oh, we were hoping to get a lift before that, if possible, maybe we’ll give you a call if nothing comes up,”  I concluded, having learnt that it was likely to cost around $50-$60 for the ride.

Williams Engineering came through with a repaired steering mechanism, and in wrapping up payment I casually asked the engineering bloke … “don’t suppose you know anyone who might be driving over to Grassy this afternoon?”

I could tell he was racking his brain to think if there was a possibility, but each time he thought of an option, he had to think again.  Finally, he reluctantly said, “no, sorry, can’t think of anyone”.  Then, as we were about to leave, he said, “I’ll give a bloke a call”   After some small-talk with the guy on the phone he turned to me and said, “are you ready to go now?”  

“Sure,” I said, “from the car hire place … cos we’ve left our gear there … tell him I’ll pay $60” 

That’s how it was we received a lift from Currie to Grassy, with “Chris”, a long-time resident of the island and font of knowledge about the place.

Back at the boat, the steering gear reassembled and the latest weather forecast downloaded, it was time to look seriously about the last hop home; the 125 mile leg from Grassy Harbour to Westernport Marina. 

In the back of our minds we also had the “issue of the autohelm”.  Due to the excessive magnetic deviation message received on the way up from Hunter Island three days before we were left hand steering for the last 5 hours.  We certainly didn’t want to hand steer the 20 hours home, but there was always the chance that just maybe, it had corrected itself through having been turned off for a few days; the mystery of electronics!

Around 3:30pm we made our way out of the Grassy Harbour with a course set first for Naracoopa, up the coast. But before long we all agreed that we should continue on to Westernport.  Miracles of miracles, the autohelm started working again and in the end we surmised that the fixing of the steering column must have helped in some way. 

The wind was slightly off the starboard bow, making it almost northeast, but the sea was very calm, even though there remained a steady swell.  The combination of all the factors meant we could maintain a speed of around 7-8 knots for a lot of the way in what could only be termed “extreme comfort”.  We each took it in turns to sleep and apart from watching out for shipping, it was a most uneventful night.

Morning had us off the Nobbies at the entrance to the Westernport Channel, with about an hour of Flood Tide still going our way.  Pretty soon, however, the tide turned and there was about 2-3 hours of Ebb Tide working against us, reducing our speed by around 2-3 knots.

The sails were dropped just prior to entering the Hastings channel, with the only thing left to do being the final turn into the Westernport Marina and our berth on A-Row.  The crew secured the lines quick enough, with the easterly breeze helping to keep us against the pontoon, and not the boat next door, as the engine was finally turned off.

We’d returned three days early and so our 45 day “Freedom Sail” was at an end.  

My thanks go to John, Isabel and Ray for their contribution throughout the last few weeks – all the way from Hobart on 23 February.  Thank you to all the other crew, Jacqui, Bill, Rosie and Alistair for your contribution, and a very special thank you to friends Liz and Murray who took charge of the “Land-Based Team” – complete with willing vehicle, plus my brother Andrew with his car-assistance while we were in Hobart. And of course, last but not least to my amazing wife Linda, who has been involved and supportive at every turn.

This amazing adventure would not have been possible of course without “the other woman” … and I speak now of Chimere our trusty vessel.  She has protected us, transported us, housed us and taken care of us all the way.  And in mentioning Chimere I also include my ever-supportive and understanding boat partner Barry Crouch, who acquired half of Chimere six years ago in order to ensure the work of Medical Sailing Ministries in Vanuatu continues. (www.msm.org.au)

Smooth seas, fair breeze and Homeward Bound

Rob Latimer

Tuesday 12 March 2019

Grassy Harbour, King Island

There was some serious rain over night, causing me to finally shut my cabin deck-hatch completely.  The 5mm gap of the “small-air-space-partial-setting” was letting in just too many sprinkles, making it hard to sleep.

The rain was still off-and-on around 8:00am when we all made our way ashore for a hot shower at the public toilets that are attached to the end of the Boat Club. 

Whilst we DO have a hot shower on board Chimere, these onshore ones had the obvious attraction of using someone else’s water and enabling you to stay under longer without getting a guilty conscience.   

Being bore water, the others said it smelt of sulphur.  My sense of smell isn’t good enough to detect that, but the brown colour did bring back memories of Port Davey and Macquarie Harbour.

Hot showers complete, Isabel and I managed to secure the promised lift with Marie across the island to Currie.  Marie turned up around 11:15am with her four-year-old grandson Tyson in the front seat and we chatted freely for the half an hour drive across the island.  To support Russell’s fishing income, Marie does cleaning and catering jobs, while also taking care of Tyson for several days a week. It didn’t take much reading between the lines to appreciate that grandma-Marie, (and grandpa Russell), were doing some heavy lifting in the “family support” department; all without a word of complaint or regret.

The car turned out to be a Rav-4 and before driving away Isabel and I received the usual pre-hire talk from the friendly co-owner, Anna … including … “no driving on beaches”, and “careful about wildlife that tends to jump out in front of the car”. Anna highlighted some of the key sights and places of interest, plus an amusing, if not pejorative  reference to the town of Grassy as being  “aesthetically challenged”.  To Isabel’s questions about the “calcified forest” and whether it was “worth seeing”, Anna answered that is was “geologically interesting”. An answer that was accurate as well as diplomatic.  (I’d been there before and I’d need to be studying geology or pre-history to want to go again)

In our absence, John and Ray went for a walk out on the Grassy Harbour breakwater and discovered that the many penguins that lived there make noisy chirping noises,  even during the day – worthy of a return visit tonight perhaps.

The time was around 2:00pm before we were all in the car heading back in the direction of Currie once more, although it would have been 20 minutes earlier if I hadn’t taken a wrong turn on the way back to the Harbour.  A wrong turn?  There’s only a few main roads on the island!  And without realising it Isabel and I were doing a grand circle BACK to Currie.

Hunger, and a desire to support local enterprise, saw us pull into a local farmhouse that had established a place called “Brewers Café”, way out in the boon-docks.  They’d done so by enclosing a back porch off the kitchen.  “Who would ever visit?” I thought, as we made our way down the private driveway, noticing that they also sold potted plants and other things … very resourceful.

Apart from being given flack for wanting tomato sauce on my sausage roll and meat pie, which included being handed the actual sauce bottle when I asked for a bit more than the small red dollop in the small white plate that I was issued … I’d say it was a really good café.  It really was a great place for travellers to drop in at, along with the local mothers and kids who simply wanted to socialise over a coffee without making the trek to Currie – and the coffee was very good !

Our hunger satisfied, (for now) we completed the drive into Currie, where we visited the local museum and light house. 

We also marvelled at the force of the crashing waves on the rocky shore, plus the rocky reef a mile further out.  This truly was a dangerous place for shipping, as the 100 or more wrecks testify.  One of these wrecks, the Cataraqui, in 1845, still holding the tragic record for loss of life in the one peacetime event – over 400 deaths. http://www.environment.gov.au/shipwreck/public/wreck/wreck.do?key=6982

It was then onto Cape Wickham at the top of the island, along the way seeing the profusion of wild life, particularly wallabies and would you believe it … flocks of turkeys (yes, like Christmas turkeys) peacocks, pheasants and quails

The Cape Wickham lighthouse was stunning and while we were there we also dropped into the Cape Wickam Golf Course for a coffee – apparently voted the 24^th best golf course in the world by some authoritative source somewhere.

https://capewickham.com.au

On the way back to the boat we stopped off for dinner at the King Island pub, where three of us had fish and chips … no doubt caught by our new fisherman friend Russell who had kindly organised our mooring in the Grassy Harbour.

Before going back to the boat for a night-cap and sleep, we decided to stick around onshore for the arrival of the penguins. This time we made our way out onto the Grassy Harbour breakwater where numbers appeared to be greater.  https://www.kingislandaccommodationcottages.com.au/king-islands-little-penguins/

With the car due back tomorrow around 12:00 noon we planned to make the most of it, specifically by checking out the Cheese Factory, just out of town, and the Kelp Centre.

There was also the matter of sailing the final 125 miles north to Hastings and assessing the weather forecast for the best time – taking in to account wind speed, direction and sea conditions.  The “Sailing Plan” talked about arriving home on Saturday, but with little more to do in the way of exploring and adventuring, there was no reason why we couldn’t return ASAP if possible. Our sights were looking homeward.

Smooth seas, fair breeze and King Island Tourists.

Rob Latimer

Monday 11 March 2019

Grassy Harbour, King Island

“Up at six, away by six-thirty”, was the mantra for today and in the darkness of the pre-dawn we went through the well-rehearsed routine … alarm, dressed, kettle, engine, coffee, course, anchor, sails, chart plotter, steering (Doh!!… should have turned OFF the anchor-drift alarm!!) … and away … oh, plus toast with peanut butter and honey.

We managed to fluke the tidal flow north out of the Hope Channel, Hunter Island on our left and Three Hummock Island on our right, with our speed topping 8-9 knots at times.

Pretty soon we were laying a course for King Island, or more specifically, the east coast harbour of Grassy.  To our port lay the small rocky island called Albatross Island, where we suspected many of the graceful birds of the same name we’d been watching, had originated.

The wind was still pretty strong, with the advancing swell coming in on our port side, and not on the bow, which was a blessing    

Around lunch time, however, the wind moved more to the west-northwest, causing us to put in a few tacks in order to lay a course for the entrance to the harbour.  With communications restored I called Duncan from the King Island Boat Club, who turned out to be busy on his farm, so he put me onto Russell, a local fisherman and boat club member, who he thought could fix us up for a mooring.

This indeed turned out to be the case and he remembered my previous visit here four years ago, when the mooring I’d been allocated by someone else had actually dragged.   Certainly NOT what you expect from a mooring !

So, after a brief stay on a short anchor in the crowded confines of the harbour, Russell soon had us on a big fishing boat mooring – the same one he arranged for us in 2015 AFTER the earlier one we’d been given had failed.

As it turned out Russell was a very helpful guy.  As was his wife Marie, who kindly drove us the 30 kilometres across the island to Currie the next day so we could pick up a hire car.  (a saving of $100 in a car “drop off” fee!)

One rather frustrating thing that occurred on the way up from Hunter Island, was the “Max Deviation” message we received on the Auto Helm.  This had occurred before and resulted in us having to hand steer the boat for extended periods.  Thankfully, each time it DID finally correct itself … and YES, I did turn it OFF, then ON again … several times.  But this time it seemed a more permanent situation that would have to wait for another day.  For now, no amount of button pressing and re-setting would put it right – we’d just have to hand steer the old-fashioned way.

After all of the anchoring and mooring activities it was getting late and time for dinner.  Then once the sun had gone down, we made it ashore for the unofficial penguin parade.  This consisted of sitting at the top of the boat ramp, 50 metres off our boat’s stern, and watching the little creatures emerge from the water only to cross the carpark and road to their tunnel-homes in the grassy hill behind.  They were so cute, and you’ve got to respect their stamina, commitment and focus, going out each day for fish, only to bring them back again each night for their babies.

The south west wind was starting to really howl, rain was threatening and it was a great relief to make it back to the warmth of Chimere for an evening hot drink and a secure bunk.

Smooth seas, fair breeze and a Private Penguin Parade

Rob Latimer

Sunday 10 March 2019

Shepherds Bay, Hunter Island

Some people can place the Furneaux Group on the map at the eastern gateway to Bass Strait, with Flinders Island at its centre. 

But how many can point to the Fleuieu Group ? 

It’s not likely to come up in a game of Trivial Pursuit, unless I’m writing the questions of course, so in case you don’t know, its off the north WEST corner of Tassie.  Just above Cape Grim and south of King Island. It’s major islands being Three Hummock and Hunter; named after the second Governor of Australia, John Hunter

It’s a rarely visited corner of the world and that’s one of its key attractions.  Depending on the wind and swell conditions there is generally a place to hide and our current visit brought back very fond memories of my previous stop-off back in 2015.  At that time the ship’s crew consisted of me, Matt, James and Eva and we stopped at four of the anchorages, including Spiers Bay where we rode out a brisk gale.

After a delightful night at Chimney Corner we up-anchored around 9:00am to explore the anchorages around the eastern side of Three Hummock Island, with our first stop being East Telegraph Bay.

Another wind change was forecast – from the current direction of east, way around to the west – and so we figured some protection could be had around on the east side of Three Hummock Island later in the day.  This might have been so, eventually, but right now the swell that had already built over the previous couple of days from the northeast did not bode well; at least in the short term 

This proved to be right and after a very rolly lunch-stop in the northern corner of East Telegraph Bay, we made our retreat, initially to Cave Bay on Hunter Island, and then a bit further up the coast to Shepherds Bay, where three other boats were already sheltering (generally a good sign) including a big motor launch called “Patriot X” which we had encountered a week ago down at Port Davey.

Last night we learnt a lesson about always turning the anchor light on when you stop for the night.  Not that we’d forgotten to do so, (we usually forget to turn it off come morning !) but around 6:00am, I was up on deck and noticed another yacht had anchored in the dark a couple of hundred metres away and there was a red navigational light slowly moving in our direction, confirming another boat was on approach and likely to also drop anchor soon.

At breakfast John and I were talking about the stars in the clear sky last night and I mentioned that I’d initially thought … “Wow, Venus is very bright tonight” …  and before I’d finished the sentence, John said, “Yes, I was up at 4:00am and it was really bright, off our starboard side”  … As it turned out, the “bright Venus” was actually the masthead anchor light of our new neighbour!!   

The problem with forgetting to turn on your night-light is of course that if another boat turns up they may not see that you are already there.  There’s also the small comfort in seeing from a distance that if another boat is already there, it might just be a good option for you.  Assuming of course that the other boat had made a good decision in the first place?!

So, apart from a bit of a sail around the region very little else was done.  We ate, we slept, we reported our position to (the amazing) Mary who is (and has been for decades it seems) the voice of Smithton Radio. But most of all we assessed the weather forecast in order to determine travel plans for the next few days.

John had a go at fishing and within half an hour had caught a rather large flathead … known as a “lizard”, Ray said.  I even dug out a couple of collapsible cray pots which I’ve had stored onboard for a couple of years, using the fishhead as bait … short story – I didn’t catch any crayfish!

With the wind still blowing hard from offshore and the gentle roll of the boat letting us know that despite being the best pick of the neighbourhood anchorages, the current swell was finding its way into everything, I exclaimed,  “I think we should head off to King Island in the morning”.  According to the latest forecast, the wind (and sea) was going to come in very strong the day AFTER tomorrow, with tomorrow being simply “strong” and the seas levelling off from the previous few days of gales.

With internet and phone communications partially restored, if not very reliable, we took the opportunity to answer emails and update the website and also make contact with King Island to hopefully check out the possibility of obtaining a safe mooring for a couple of days, and also a hire car in order to check-out the local sights.  Things looked promising, but we would need to confirm specifics upon arrival tomorrow

Whilst we’d filled up the water tanks just a few days ago with 1,000 litres of Strahan’s finest, we nonetheless fired up the onboard water maker at Three Hummock Island, knowing that the sea water there was very clean and the machine needed to be exercised.   With new filters installed I was very pleased to be able to make the BEST water yet, like EVER, as measured by the very low salt reading of just 100 parts per million. 

Smooth seas, fair breeze and where’s the Fleurieu Group ?

Rob Latimer

Saturday 9 March 2019
Chimney Corner, Three Hummock Island
AND
Friday 8 March 2019
At sea – West Coast Tassie

Our stay in Macquarie Harbour, Strahan and the Gordon River was all too brief.  But the weather patterns and forecasts for the next week made it clear that if we didn’t make a move up the coast in the next 24 hours, we’d be stuck here for a week.  The predicted succession of nor-westers and big seas making any later move, a very wet and uncomfortable thing. Herein lies one of the big differences between racers and cruisers … cruisers can pick and choose their weather, while racers take what they are given at the appointed time.

As it was, the nor-wester kept blowing for the first half of the day, making our trek back up the Macquarie Harbour, (once we exited the Gordon River), to the Hell’s Gate, a steady, slow experience.

After five hours plugging into the elements, we finally dropped anchor inside the entrance to Macquarie Harbour, at a place called the Back Channel in about 3 metres of water. 

Our task now was to await the predicted sou-wester; our time filled in with sleeping, relaxing and preparing.

Whilst the wind-change would be going our way, the one thing that DID give us cause for concern were the 4-6 metre swells left behind after 2-3 days of strong, on-shore winds. (A quick look online showed that the maximum swell for the day off the nearby Cape Sorell had been 8 metres !)

Big swells are one thing, but the thing that gave us confidence was that the 1-2 metres of breaking seas – which effectively add to the height of the swells – were predicted to quickly diminish,as the wind change-swept through. 

Then as if someone had flicked a switch, the change came through.  One minute Chimere was tugging at her anchor in a north westerly direction, the next we had swung around to the south west.

“The change has come through” said John quietly as he walked down the centre corridor past my cabin.

It was 4:30pm and by 5:30 we were passing through Hells Gate and out onto our chosen course, the breaking seas on the Kawitiri Schoal to starboard and the long seawall on the port.  For the first few miles the advancing swells looked ominous as they rose up before us in the shallows seas, but as time went by and the sea deepened, the steady rise and fall took on a predictable feel.

Our destination on this leg of the journey would be Hunter and Three Hummock Islands, forming what is referred to on the chart as “The Fleurieu Group” located off the north West corner of Tasmania.  Reaching these islands would officially mark the beginning of the homeward leg.  It was a place I’d visited before – with Matt, James and Eva – back in January 2015, and it was a place I was keen to visit again.

But first we had to get through the next 22 hours, half through the night and half through the day in conditions that were MUCH better than the trip up from Port Davey, but still pretty average. 

Whilst the south westerly wind change formed the key part of the forecast, it also mentioned “variable winds”. And the further up the coast we travelled it became clear that we were moving from the West Coast Region to the North West Coast Region. It might be just 50-100 miles on the chart, but the difference was pronounced, including a return to north-westerly winds for a time, then pouring rain, then north-easterly winds, then westerly for a time, before settling back into the south-west.  All the while the south west swell, which peaked at around 8 metres according to that day’s records off Macquarie Harbour, kept rolling on; albeit in a diminished form.

Our good ol Perkins motor was our companion for the duration, enabling us to maintain a constant 5.5 to 6.0 knots at all times.

The depth of the seas along the coast averaged around 80-100 metres and our depth sounder confirmed this with the numbers changing roughly in line with the contours on the chart.  Then John calls out … “the depth has gone to 14 metres … check the chart plotter for depths … are we going into shallow water?!”  

I looked at the depth sounder and sure enough we were reading 14 metres.  I looked at the chart plotter screen and the actual depth was around 95 metres and NO sign of the words … “INADEQUATELY SURVEYED”

“Oh, hang on, it’s gone back to 100 metres … 98 … 96 … it’s back to normal? 

Naturally our thoughts began speculating as to WHY the depth sounder had given a strange reading of 14 metres … then 10 minutes later it happened again, reading 15 metres, followed a short time later with 17 metres. 

“It’s a Chinese submarine passing under us” … said Ray in a confident voice

“What about a whale, maybe it was a whale passing under us ?”

“Or a school of fish?”

One thing I could almost 100% guarantee is that depth sonder was, and is, working correctly.  The mystery remains … and we’re nowhere near Kettering?!

The night dragged on, as it does, but with only a few bursts of activity – when stronger than normal wind gusts hit, or when the wind died altogether and it was necessary to roll up the jib – mercifully, there was time to get some serious sleep between watches.

As we drew closer to the north west tip of Tassie, known appropriately as Cape Grim, the wind died off completely and the swell, which was probably still in the 2-3 metre range, became just a steady rise and fall, briefly propelling us forward at 7 knots, then holding us back to 4 or 5 knots soon after.  All the while our buoyancy helping us to ride like a floating bird.

By early morning we were negotiating the winding track of Hunter Passage, then it was up the coast of Hunter Island to our chosen anchorage – Chimney Corner, off the group of buildings that sit at the south-west corner of Three Hummock Island.

Unlike most windswept islands of Bass Strait, and there are probably more than 100 of them, people actually live on Three Hummock – it even has a Facebook page, airstrip and B&B, making it a wonderful place to enjoy a remote “island experience” – fly in and fly out. (While we were there a photographic group had booked the accommodation and were documenting the sights)

The first thing on our agenda after dropping anchor, was to have a sleep, after which John, Isabel and I went ashore for a walk and to meet the caretakers.

The weather from the north east was warm and settled and the anchorage, which can sometimes be rolly, was up to our usual calm standards.  Wandering around the settled corner of the island there was a 100-year-old building that once served as a telegraph station, old sheds and a homestead now used as a B&B accommodation, a wharf in need of repair, plus kangaroos and Cape Barren Geese wherever you looked.   

Back on board we enjoyed another still and peaceful night with a clear sky and sparkly stars closing off another wonderful day at sea.  But after the previous night’s activities afloat we slept very soundly to be sure.

On the communications front, I managed to score “three bars” on the iPhone, enabling me to make emails and upload information to this website, but only if I first hung the device upside down from a string in the middle of the cockpit?!

With our sights set on “home”, our next objective will be to explore the local region tomorrow before grabbing the next “weather window” north to King Island.

Smooth seas, fair breeze and catching the wind

Rob Latimer

Thursday 7 March 2019

Heritage Landing, Gordon River

It was an early start after a much-deserved sleep, in a mercifully calm anchorage, just off the Strahan township.

Our first task of the day was to run Jacqui ashore to catch the 7:30am bus to Hobart where she would be catching a plane home.  Sadly, Jacqui’s time aboard had come to an end and Chimere’s crew was now going from the Famous Five to the Fabulous Four

For Jacqui, as a friend of Ray and Isabel from Fish Creek, the trip to Melaleuca and the Port Davey region was a return to where she had bushwalked as a girl, or young woman, many, many years ago.  Perhaps I put one too many “manys” in there, but whilst Jacqui is an adventurer she is also a realist and I’m sure she won’t mind.  After all, 35+ years ago is a long time in anyone’s language.

Whilst Jacqui was cutting her voyage short, there was a time in the days before joining Chimere on the 23 February, that Jacqui needed to pull out all together.  A change of circumstances then enabled Jacqui to re-join Chimere, (in scenes of jubilation at home, I am told), and so we have all been fortunate to have her aboard. 

Fortunate, because Jacqui showed herself to be cheerful, willing to try anything, stoic in the face of trying conditions, an enthusiastic helper, plus a really great companion – full of stories and life-experiences.  Thank you, Jacqui, for contributing so positively to Chimere’s “Famous Five”.

In booking the bus ride to Hobart, Jacqui’s husband Tim was told that this route – Strahan to Hobart – would be closed down in a couple of days.  It seemed hard to believe, but it was confirmed by the driver who told us that buses would instead only head north to Queenstown and Devonport.  Presumably future trips to Hobart would need to be via Queenstown.  As it was, Jacqui’s ride to Hobart would be taking 7 hours, (from 7:30am to 2:30pm) making it something of a milk-run through all the towns and villages along the way, and NOT on the way, as the case may be.

Speaking of small Tasmanian country towns, anyone who’s seen the ABC TV series “Rosehaven” would identify with Strahan.  I don’t think Rosehaven was filmed here, but it could have been.  This was made evident a few times in our short stay … the first was the bus driver himself.  He was a cheerful, engaging fellow, (as bus drivers often are), and when Jacqui showed him the image of her official ticket on her iPhone, he gave it a look in a vague kind of … I-left-my-glasses-somewhere-else way and said “looks good to me!” 

Around this time school kids were also making their way onto the bus, waving their term passes … “Hey, that kid hasn’t waved his pass?”  I jokingly said to the driver as he loaded a couple of small bags into the hold.  “Oi, haven’t you got a pass?” the bus driver called in an off-handed way.  “Yeh, of course”, called the kid as he climbed the stairs.  “Well don’t forget to bring it next time!” he called back.

We then walked up the steep hill above town to the grocers to buy a few essentials – including bread and ice cream of course.  And while Ray and Isabel cruised the short aisles I listened to the great music – Rod Stewart, Beatles, Elton John – and eventually I called to the lady on the check-out … “I love your music!” 

“Yeh, that’s my play-list”, she cheerfully responded. 

Then, once everything had been tallied and bagged, the lady said, “You wanna lift down to the waterfront with this lot?  I’ll bring by buzz-box round the front and I can run you down now” 

“Wow, that would be great, thanks so much.  How did you know we were off a boat????”  we said.

Down on the wharf, the TasPorts “Representative”, Shane, was also very helpful.  Having spoken with him as we approached Strahan the day before, he phoned me out of the blue today to see if I needed anything and I mentioned that we’d like to load up with water; our tanks being either empty, or full of the brown (but still very safe and tasty) water from Port Davey.

“No problems”, said Shane, “I’ve got permission from the owner of the blue fishing boat at the wharf for boats to raft-up.  Sing out when you’re ready and I’ll give you a hand”.  When the time came an hour later, there was Shane to give us a hand, even suggesting we could use the fire hose if necessary … “everyone does” he confirmed. 

Our tanks full, and the river cruise boats gone, we later moved up and tied to the wharf-proper, making way for another yacht next to the fishing boat, that needed to take our place.  Rather than move us on because … “this is where the River Cruise Boats dock” … all Shane said was … “the big boats won’t be back till around 2:30 this arvo, so you’ll be good till then”

Having been without internet access in the South West, we made good use of the local connection to catch up on 7 days of emails, texts, calls, messages and website uploads and by around 2:15pm we were away down Macquarie Harbour in the direction of the Gordon River. 

The 20-30 knot Nor-wester was still blowing and we made good use of it as we raced down the bay at around 8 knots.  There was a thought to stop briefly at Sarah Island, home of a rather severe penal settlement back in the 1830s, however, after making a brief foray into the lee of the island we decided that the wind was still just too strong.  Coupled with this was the fact that the “INADEQUATELY SURVEYED” note on the chart proved to be very accurate. 

We know this because an area marked as 3-5 metres deep on the chart, actually ended up being around 1.5-1.8 metres deep – confirmed by our depth sounder plus an ever-so-brief bump on the bottom of our keel … something we aim to do as little as possible!!

Once in the Gordon River, with depths of 20-30 metres, we wound our way upstream around 5 miles to Heritage Landing; where the river cruise ships tie up and disgorge their tourists to walk the circular boardwalk through the overgrown forest. 

The forest really was amazing, coming right down to the river’s edge on both sides and closing-in the further upstream we travelled.  Our real desire was to travel inland around 20 miles, to where the Franklin River flows in, but time and the weather were against us.  We would have to be content with having the Heritage Landing and the connected forest-walk all to ourselves, tied up as we were to the bush wharf, surrounded by the quiet solitude 

In the night we were boarded, unknowingly, by a small animal.  I realised this when I got up in the night and startled it while I was climbing the stairs. I’d barely got half way out when this little black blur of something raced up next to me making it out the door in just two bounds.  With torch in hand the last I saw of it was dashing under the dinghy on the foredeck. 

It wasn’t just the small animal … probably a possum … that was startled!!   We just hoped the next day that it made its way off the boat the same way it got on BEFORE we came to sail away.

Smooth seas, fair breeze and Farewell Jacqui

Rob Latimer

Wednesday 6 March 2019

Risby Cove, Strahan

In a way, yesterday merged into today, with our departure from Port Davey yesterday afternoon and our arrival at Macquarie Harbour and the town of Strahan this morning, being just one continuous “event”.  An event we had to simply endure in order to catch a wind going our way and, in some way, meet our sailing itinerary.

There is no doubt that the greeting of the dawn at sea is a wonderful thing.  I think all sailors would agree with that.  Particularly when the night is full of rocky seas, rain, howling wind from the wrong direction and cold.  Not a winter sort of cold, on the zero to five-degree range.  But still a summer sort of cold at 9 degrees but accompanied by a wind that makes it feel like four degrees.  It seems strange that this should be happening just a short distance from land where bushfires are the current concerns.

After our initially slow start, in the end our arrival at Macquarie Harbour, and the narrow entrance known as “Hells Gate”, took the expected time of around 16 hours.  Leaving Bond Bay in Port Davey around 4:00pm yesterday and arriving at Hell’s Gate around 8:00am this morning; a distance of around 90 miles at an average of approximately 5.5 knots … approx. 10kph.  Not a fast time, but any faster and it would have been dark when we arrived at the entrance and we certainly didn’t want that.

Once through Hell’s Gate, which seemed little more than 50 metres wide at its narrowest,  it was a case of following the navigational leads, markers, buoys and channels for another 1-2 hours, north into Macquarie Habour to the town of Strahan.

Making contact with the TasPorts helpful “Representative”, Shane, I was informed that with 30 or more boats in town for the Van Diemans land Circumnavigation rally, there were no spots against the wharf to tie up, or even raft up, and also no moorings.  So, we anchored in Risby Cove, a short distance off town, as originally planned.

There was a great deal of relief in finally dropping the anchor and turning off the engine, as we soaked in the scene before us – the township of Strahan, the hills behind, dozens of other anchored vessels, the wharf, the fish-farm infrastructure and the tourist railway station a short distance across the cove.

After a week without modern communications … other than an HF radio to receive automated weather forecasts, it was a strange sensation to again be receiving and sending texts, emails and messages … just like before.  And it didn’t take us long to realise that the world had continued on without us 

Despite our sleepiness, we soon had the dinghy in the water and were exploring ashore, the south westerly wind having also brought rain and cold temperatures, which had us rugged up like … sailors.  With so many boats in the bay, we certainly weren’t the only ones walking around wearing lifekackets drifting to and fro, as we slowly tamed our legs to walk in straight lines on straight pavements.

I think a “real” coffee was first on the list of things to do ashore, followed by a look at the waterfront timber mill and shop.  Not to mention the Parks office in order to get a National Parks pass because we intended to travel up the Gordon River which is a World Heritage Area.  The helpful lady on the desk not so subtly asked me if I, or anyone on our boat had a Seniors Card … because it would be cheaper … in fact FREE.  Apparently one person’s admission covered the whole boat, and if that person was a “Senior” (ie over 60) (Thank you Ray for being senior enough) then it was NO COST … at a considerable saving.

As we wandered around town Isabel made contact with a friend of a friend who was connected with a theatre company in town that had been performing a production called “The Ship That Never Was” since 1985.  Isabel knows this person through her Fish Creek connections, and it turns out that the lady’s father originally wrote the play back in the early 1980s.  The long and short of it was that we had five free tickets set aside at the door !   The content of the play is well worth researching and proves the notion that truth really is stranger than fiction. http://www.roundearth.com.au/

https://www.discovertasmania.com.au/attraction/theshipthatneverwas

John and I tried one of the famous scallop pies for lunch and before everyone collapsed with exhaustion, we made it back to Chimere for a sleep before coming back to town for the performance of the play at 5:30, dinner at the pub at 7:00pm, then once again back to Chimere for sleep – and this was supposed to be a day of Rest & Recovery?!

Jacqui would be leaving us tomorrow morning; catching the 7:30am bus to Hobart (via every other town in Tasmania it seemed because the trip would be taking her 7 hours !) and from there back to Melbourne, so it would be an early start

For now it’s time to sleep and recharge our batteries

Smooth seas, fair breeze and Rest & Recovery

Rob Latimer

Tuesday 5 March 2019

Wild night at sea – between Port Davey and Macquarie Harbour

There is a thing in the sailing world called … “the weather window”.  I’ve mentioned it before.  Well, it opened ever so briefly for about 24-36 hours and we decided to jump through

It’s only possible to jump with confidence as a result of reliable weather forecasting, which it mostly is these days, but when you decide to commit you just hope there isn’t a subsequent update or revision from the Met. Bureau that you miss.

In our case the wind had been blowing from the north west for some time.  The product of a High-Pressure system moving across to the east, sending warm winds down from the deserts on the mainland. 

This High was being closely followed by a Low-Pressure system which was also sending wind from the North West as it approached, with the gap between the two systems somehow creating winds from the  West and South West for just a short period of time. 

Given we had around 100 miles to travel in a roughly northerly direction, from Port Davey to Macquarie Harbour, we felt this was an opportunity we had to grab.

So it was that we made our way out of Schooner Cove – our wonderful anchorage for the night – and into Port Davey proper where we anchored in Bond Bay for lunch; but not before dropping into the very tight Lourah Island anchorage – just to tick it off our list.    

As we crossed the bay we were radioed by the catamaran K’Gari, who could see us on the chart plotter (and in the distance) saying good-bye as they were grabbing the remains of the brisk North Westerly to shoot DOWN the coast and eventually back to Hobart.

Once at Bond Bay, for us, it was a waiting game.  We stowed the big dinghy back on deck, lashed everything down that could move, and Isabel and Jacqui even prepared the evening’s meal in advance so it could easily be dished out.

The forecast talked about the wind change coming through in the late afternoon so we left it until 4:00pm to head away from our anchorage, the west to northwest wind pushing us quickly down Paine Bay and into Port Davey.  From here we tightened up for the northwest course, rounding Point St Vincent and North Head, making sure to stay well clear of Sharksjaw Reef.

By now the full strength of the southwest swell could be felt, with a northeast swell and a breaking sea thrown in for good measure.  The wind change had clearly not come through and so in full confidence we made the best course we could.  Not even west, but something like southwest.  This was certainly NOT going to get us to Macquarie Harbour.   After a couple of miles of this we “went about”, in a manoeuvre known as “Tacking”, onto a new course in a northeastly direction – back to the coast again but slightly further north of our starting point.

It’s a tedious process and why cruising sailors choose NOT to tack if they can possibly help it.  The rocky coastline was fast approaching on the bow and so naturally we dropped in another tack, back in a southwesterly direction, looking closely for signs of being able to steer a course closer to where we wanted to go – North-ish

To their credit, all on board remained positive and upbeat.  And there were no signs of cracking, as the seas sent white-water over the deck and the night began to descend making things feel even colder and more alone 

It was around this point, after tacking for a third time that I asked John to check the distance back to Spain Bay … less than 10 miles and still time to make a graceful retreat and await the (by now) mythical wind change.     

Thinking, thinking, thinking … all the while looking to the wind gauge at the top of the mast and the red wool attached to the stays on both sides for any sign of the wind shifting more OFF the bow … onto our beam … or even onto the stern quarter. 

Then it happened.  The arrow suddenly pointed at right angles to the boat, off to the left.

“Bring her up 10 degrees John … now try another 10.  She’s holding. Up another 10 degrees”. 

And with each slight course change we found Chimere could hold her own – with no flapping sails – as the wind moved further and further around; to the south west. 

Soon enough, we were onto our north westerly course.  The wind was where it should be and the swells and waves, instead of pounding the bow, were now mostly coming onto our stern quarter.  I say “mostly”, because the north easterly swell, meeting the south westerly swell created a confused sea of a corkscrew nature that would send us one way and then another, with the occasional wave slapping the side sending spray up and over.

Inside our sheltered cockpit all was dry and relatively comfy, but funny… there was no interest in dinner as we began taking it in shifts to sleep, knowing it would be a long night and we would need to remain alert.

For much of the night we carried a single-reefed mainsail and just a small jib, maybe 40% of its normal size.  This was enough to give us around 6-7 knots of speed, although there were times when we’d keep the engine ticking over, its regular thrust helping to combat the competing forces of the waves and swell.

John and I led the shifts through the night with Isabel and Ray offering great support – monitoring the course, the speed, set of the sails and the horizon for any sign of lights or other vessels.  Not that you could see much outside.  At one point I remember the sky was clear and briefly revealed the stars, but the regular rain squalls and the noise it made on the canopy was the norm.  “The rain helps flatten the seas” … I volunteered at one point, no doubt trying to put a positive spin on things.  Not sure I got a response to that one?!

At one point I’d been in my bunk about 30 minutes and whilst exhaustion finally puts you into a type of sleep, the noises and movement of the boat are constantly being processed somewhere deep within.  The act of actually staying in my bunk finally had me wide awake – the heal to starboard becoming just TOO great.  My mistake had been taking off my wet weather gear, so after finally kitting up again, I made it into the cockpit to read Chimere’s “vital signs”.

Speed – 9 knots, heal – too much,  course – good, sails – no change …

“I think we need to reduce sail, we’re going a bit fast” I suggested to John and Isabel.  “Let’s ease out the main and spill some wind…”  … Still we got faster … 10 knots … touching 11 knots … “we need to reduce the jib” … I said while unzipping the starboard side of the cockpit cover to cop a face full of rain and spray … “The jib is FULLY OUT” … I said with a tinge of surprise … “I can’t have fastened it tight enough in the cleat, and it all ran out”

“That would explain the noise a short time back bro, when it let go” said John

No harm done, but we now know Chimere can crank up some serious speeds if you choose to pile on the sail … which we try not to do where possible.

It must have been around 2:00am, when things are generally at their lowest on rough overnight jaunts, when an object came running into the cockpit, under the flap of the starboard cover, stopping right there on the floor.  “It’s a Mutton Bird”, I said to Ray … “I wonder if Isabel has any recipes for Mutton Bird??!!” 

“Oh the poor thing, it must have been attracted by our light and hit the sail perhaps?”, continued Ray.

“Maybe we could put it in a box till morning, then let it go?”

This is kind of what we did … into a big bucket with a blanket on top … but not before discovering something that I probably already knew. That Mutton Birds have sharp claws and beaks!  Doesn’t it know we are trying to help?!

So the night continued … cold and lumpy but made far LESS miserable by catching a wind that was going our way.  In the end the biggest casualty being sleep.

Smooth seas, fair winds and jumping through the weather window

Rob Latimer

Strahan, Macquarie Harbour, Gordon River

Thursday 7 March 2019
Wednesday 6 March 2019
Tuesday 5 March 2019

We left Port Davey on Tuesday evening and sailed through the night to Macquarie Harbour, 100 miles up the coast.

Sounds pretty straight forward and sometimes it is.

Except in this case the south west change took a while to come in and in the meantime we tacked up the coast into a 30 knot northwester, with 3-4 metre swells coming from BOTH the south west and the north east. Plus some breaking sea thrown in for good measure

I still have the last three days’ Ships Logs to write, but we arrived at Strahan yesterday morning and I think we are just getting over the lack of sleep.

We’ve been a week without internet communication, so we apologise for the lack of contact. Just goes to show there are still “primitive places” with no web coverage out there in the world, and it IS possible to survive 7 days without checking texts and emails every 14-16 minutes.

We are currently in Macquarie Harbour and will probably be out of radio range again as we head up the Gordon River – later today and tomorrow.

In the meantime, I’ve included a few photos below of the past three days …

Monday 4 March 2019

Schooner Cove (Port Davey)

Up and away by 9:00am … which is pretty good by current standards ! 

And there on the horizon what do we see … but a TALL ship, anchored way down at the southern end of Bathurst Harbour, behind Celery Top Islands.

A quick glance at the chart plotter reveals her to be Windward Bound,
https://www.windewardbound.com.au/ which we’d seen close-up in Hobart during the Wooden Boat festival … is it nearly a month ago ?!

There’s something very special about seeing these ships out in their natural habitat and so we couldn’t resist the temptation of doing a drive-by, a gawk and a wave; since it was already on our course, although I’m sure we would have deviated if she wasn’t.

We were saying good-bye to Bathurst Harbour and as we headed into the Bathurst Narrows, past where we’d anchored two nights before, we couldn’t help but noticing that there were still about ten or more vessels at anchor. 

Could it be they were all friends, maybe waiting for the right wind, sheltering from the strong nor westerlies (and passing showers) or possibly part of the Van Diemen’s Land Circumnavigation rally? 
https://www.ryct.org.au/cruising/vdl-circumnavigation/vdlcruises2019/

We never really found out.  Fact is, with most vessels in the area snug at anchor, we pretty much had the place to ourselves

There were so many anchorages in the cruising guide, you’d need to be here a few weeks to check them all out, but we were keen to check out as many as possible for future reference.  There was … (tiny) Iola Bay,  Ila Bay, Frog Hollow, Parker Bay, Joe Page Bay and around lunch time we stopped in a very small indentation just before Casilda Cove, within Horseshoe Inlet. 

The wind by now had really picked up from the north west and whilst our little cubby hole was just wide enough for us to anchor, if the wind should deviate too much there was little room for us to swing from side to side.  A change of wind wasn’t expected but to be sure we extended a line from the stern to a large tree on the shore to keep Chimere in place for the short time we would be there.

It was now time to do some exploring ashore, and with Ray agreeing to stay aboard as “caretaker”, (his dodgy knee kind of sealing his fate) and with a new squall just taking effect, John, Isabel, Jacqui and I headed off in the dinghy, out of our small cove and around Danger Bluff, a couple of hundred metres further up Horseshoe Inlet, to a small beach and the start of a bush track.  The track would take us to the top of the nearby “mountain” … very modestly called Balmoral Hill in the cruising guide.  Admittedly Balmoral was a small peak, nothing like Mount Rugby which dominates the region at over 2,200 feet, but it was our opportunity to gain some elevated perspective on the region in what was described in the cruising guide as being … “the best value for effort” 

Whilst we were blasted by the wind and drizzle, and the undergrowth was a bit scrubby and scratchy … for sailors … it turned out to be a stunning highlight of the day.  As the photos show, the views … even through the cloud and mist … were amazing.

Ray described the country as “Bonsai”, but on a grand scale.  The trees DO seem small, a form of miniature, no doubt a product of the cold weather, howling winds and hungry soils, but the remoteness just goes on and on, with ridgeline after ridgeline extending to the horizon in jagged saw-tooth formation.

Back on board it was time for a late lunch and away up the Bathurst Channel just another 2 miles to our chosen spot for the night … Schooner Cove.  It was now around 4:00pm, we had the place all to ourselves, and in disbelief we watched as the sky revealed some blue patches, the sun began to shine and many of the surrounding peaks looked down with a kind of washed starkness.

There was just enough time to do a quick circuit of the bay, to look at the small streams that flow into the bay, and visit the cave a short distance away that contained an aboriginal midden and ochre deposits

Then, just when you thought this truly was an isolated part of God’s creation, four other boats turn up in quick succession to anchor a short distance off our stern.

The HF radio again delivered a weather report tonight, confirming our decision to leave Port Davey tomorrow, heading north to Macquarie Harbour.  Our plan is to make good use of the predicted southwester.

Isabel and Jacqui impressed again tonight in the dinner department in what they referred to as a “scratch” meal … it even included the flathead caught by Ray and I the other night … but we weren’t so sure about that.  On the food front … it was revealed tonight that the beer and ice-cream are running out so it’s a good thing we’ll be in Strahan (Macquarie Harbour) in less than two days’ time.

Smooth seas, fair breeze and a hilltop experience

Rob Latimer