The curses from the yacht next door turned out to be as a result of their tender being flipped over by the passing boat traffic. Under the ancient code of the sea set down in HTML by Maritime Safety Queensland, watercraft must only travel a maximum of 6 knots within 30 metres of a moored vessel. Clearly, the early morning fishing and jetski fleet were unaware of this requirement. The submerged dinghy was towed ashore by a helpful passing power boat.
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| Day dawns over the sea lion enclosure, Gold Coast Broadwater |
This was our last day of planned travel before the voyage ended at Manly Boat Harbour and our highly trained visiting dignitaries returned to less interesting but more pressing land based duties. Our course: through the tortuous winding sandbars of the lower Moreton Bay estuary area before emptying into Moreton Bay itself where we could turn our bowsprit landward.
The Specialist Sail Trimmer was somewhat familiar with these parts and we felt confidence in the experience of the crew and the boat itself to handle a sheltered route such as this. However, the night before, the Specialist Sail Trimmer had discussed the trip with his father: The Rear Specialist Sail Trimmer - a man of prodigious sailing experience in his own right. The Rear Specialist Sail Trimmer had passed the trip off as a walk in the park (an analogy which vaguely alarmed the Captain given our floating nature and more liquid travel medium) until it was pointed out that we drew almost two metres. At this point we understand he crossed himself and commended our souls to Poseidon (or whoever the appropriate Greek god of sandbars and mudflats happens to be).
A look at the charts shows that there are several main channels from the Gold Coast Seaway to Moreton Bay. They interweave and twist and turn. None of them provide that much comfort at low tide for 1.9 metres of draft. In fact, according to both the Gospel of Lucas and the chart plotter on board, there was no obvious place through at low tide at all. As a result, in our planning we had determined that we had to depart Sea World at the right time to pass through the lowest waters on the rising tide and not far off high tide otherwise we would be cut off for many hours. To put some additional stress on proceedings, there is no way through to Moreton Bay that doesn't involve crossing under power lines at some point and Arjuna requires almost 19 metres above the water line.
We settled on the Main Channel as the best route since it was wider than the other options although a power line crosses it at one point very close to 19 metres above high tide level.
Arjuna motored up the Broadwater. From time to time, very well equipped power boats would overtake and send up a bow wave big enough to empty cutlery through the kitchen. Even in the open areas of the Broadwater we were on constant watch for the port and starboard markers every few hundred metres to ensure we were still sitting in mid channel as it wound back and forth.
We chugged through the estuaries behind South Stradbroke passing some good looking camping locations and many little anchorages which looked interesting but no doubt would be busy on weekends.
Inside of the Jumpinpin Bar (which is uncrossable by the likes of Arjuna or indeed any vessel bigger than a bath toy) we reached a point where we needed to get across to the Main Channel but found that we had overlooked a section of cross channel that dried at low tide and was shallower than our depth at high. As a result, we turned into the Canaipa Channel which runs in close to North Stradbroke Island all the way north to Moreton Bay.
We passed through some remote oyster leases and observed some people who were clearly either moonshining or setting up for the set of Deliverance II. The water depth dropped off. The port and starboard markers took a radically dog leg and narrowed together not much further apart than our beam. A helpful sign poking out of the mud indicated that we had reached a section of alarmingly low water. Arjuna was motoring at several knots as we coasted past the warning so there was nothing for it but to drift through hoping that we had timed the tides properly. The depth sounder showed zero for some 50 metres.
This all seems a little dramatic. And indeed it is. There are not many photos from this section of the journey and so we need to keep the pace going.
After the shallow choke point of the lower Canaipa Channel the mood of the Captain improved. We increased speed and ploughed on northwards with Russell Island joining from the West and North Stradbroke rising higher on the sea side. The burnt areas from January's bush fire were clear as we passed. All was well in the late morning as we hummed along carefree and straight up onto a sand bar.
Our experience at Yamba should have shown that one does not stray far from the wise words of Alan Lucas (be they 15 years out of date or not) without running into trouble. In hindsight, we had only strayed five metres or less from the ideal "Lucas Path" around a nondescript port marker but in this case we should have hugged the marker rather than give it clearance.
The Captain paused, thinking of the First Mate sitting in her mountain hideaway and having to explain that rather than wandering through tropical atolls we would be spending the year perched next to a mangrove swamp helping a mosquito colony with its food supply.
We put the engine into reverse and the boat simply slid back off the sandbar and all was well.The remainder of the channel passage was spent at low speed and constant referral between "Lucas", "Beacon to Beacon", the chart plotter, the depth sounder and an emergency ouija board kept for just such an occasion.
We emerged into Moreton Bay at around lunch time. The shallow twisting sandbars of the channel were behind us. The shallow twisting sandbars of Moreton Bay were ahead. Fortunately, this was the Specialist Sail Trimmer's playground. His racetrack. He knew this area like the back of his hand. His wise advice was to keep sailing in one direction until we could either see the bottom or hit a sandbar.
We deferred further drama until after lunch and instead dropped anchor at Blaksley's Anchorage on the inside of North Stradbroke. We made a Zodiac Assault on the beach for a quick swim. There is a delightful sign on the beach at Blaksley's with accompanying illustrations which we read while drying off after the swim. It warns of a deep drop off, strong currents, big sharks and no swimming. Improbably, the sign faces inland.
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| The crew finally eats something not made of fish |
Arjuna pulled through the sea wall of Manly Boat Harbour at around 1600 hours. We had arranged a berth at the East Coast Marina and had sensibly looked up the marina map online beforehand. Manly was the biggest marina so far - in fact, there are four separate marinas within the harbour. The folks at East Coast had put us in a berth quite close to the harbour entrance which made it easy to find and compared to the likes of Woolwich had vast areas of room in which to maneuver the yacht prior to docking. Even better, the yacht in the berth next to us was unusually narrow giving us that extra wriggle room before calling the insurance company.
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| Nestled in at East Coast Marina |
The Rear Admiral provided a lot of insight and direction as we motored slowly in - suggesting various methods of hooking ropes over the marina cleats or lassoing the marina posts one handed while steering the boat. Fenders were deployed to all points of the compass. The Acting First Mate had his mobile fender in hand ready to buffer us off - looking a lot like the guy holding the tackling bag at a footy training session. The Special Sail Trimmer rode the bow like a hairy figurehead ready to pounce onto the dock. Arjuna drifted resolutely into berth J8. The evening wind caught us and immediately blew the boat sideways. The Specialist Sail Trimmer performed a longjump to clear several metres onto the marina and to secure the bow while various mooring ropes flew left and right missing their targets. We threw the engine into reverse. The stern sidled up against the marina and was made fast.
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| Mighty Arjuna: Feel the glow of the deck light. Experience the joviality of our bunting |
We all dropped to the ground to kiss the sweet sweet earth - or its closest representative - being the relatively stable concrete of the marina.
A mighty voyage of discovery and boat delivery was complete. It is hard to describe such a feat. Well not that hard - it just requires a dash of punctuation and many more adjectives and adverbs than you are likely to find in your average Twitter post.
That evening there was not much left to do other than clean the boat prior to the arrival of Saint Paula of Highgate, wife of the Specialist Sail Trimmer. We said our farewells and handed over a hunk of tuna as special thanks for loaning him for almost two weeks. The remainder of the crew dined on fish to restore our strength and try and dent the stores still in the fridge.
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| A pensive Rear Admiral paces the poop deck |
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