Girt by Sea

We reluctantly departed the fair waters of Lady Musgrave  after four days. The sea, which now coursed through our salty veins, was calling us on. Our start was very reluctant indeed and we didn't end up exiting the reef until after 1000 hours putting paid to our extravagant plans to cross vast miles of ocean.

"Isolated"danger mark. We interpret
these more freely as a "generally dangerous mark"

Instead we made a pleasant course North towards another reef called Fitzroy. 

Edge of the coral, departing Musgrave

On the charts, Fitzroy Reef looks very similar to Lady Musgrave except it lacks an island / cay and has more crunchy coral bommies within the reef and a narrower entrance. Also the entrance is shallow - a point worth mentioning since on entering the lagoon, the depth jumped from minor-tingling-in-the-toes level to all-hands-to-the-bilge-pumps level without warning. Inevitably, we heard the sickening scrape as our beloved colony of barnacles was knocked free from the bottom of the keel. Barny, Hercules, Herb...we'll miss you guys.

Fitzroy Reef: So very, very girt

The tide was ripping through the lagoon and the wind strengthened as the night fell. The Captain made a quick underwater inspection of the keel to ensure that it was still attached. There were still a few dazed marine organisms clinging to the bottom - wandering this way and that and no doubt wondering why of all the boats to choose to live on they had settled on this one.

Ship's Monkey's log, day 10: Land...no sighting

On a day on which only the fool hardy, the inexperienced, the very experienced, the lost, the moored in an isolated wind swept coral atoll or the people who didn't hear the morning weather forecast and strong wind warning..or a combination of more than one of these would head out in, we headed out in it. Strictly speaking we were already out in it. Waking up in the morning, there is simply a boat sitting alone on the endless water. There was no land visible from Fitzroy Reef at all apart from some distant shadows from the more northern islands and the yellow water in a big circle around us signifying the beautiful fringing coral reef waiting to chew our house to pieces when the anchor dragged. With the boat straining in the wind and tide all night we were more than keen to head to a more sheltered location. So we up anchored and slipped through the entrance channel and out to sea on the morning high tide with a plan to head to distant Hummocky Island tucked in much closer to the coast between Gladstone and Yeppoon.

The sea begins to gnarl

We immediately unfurled the headsail but not far out of the reef we sailed into the start of the swell and seas coming out of the South and from then on we rolled and surfed our way through some less than friendly looking waters. With the wind moderate and the seas big we proceeded under sail and engine towards Masthead and Erskine Islands and attempted to maintain boat speed across the rolling waves. Not far out from these reefs we were momentarily rolled by a big sea and the engine changed its tone and it was obvious that we were no longer pumping cooling water. Using our cool heads and lots of shouting and waving of arms and renting of cloths and sail material, an evasive maneuver was performed around into the lee of Erskine Island and we dropped anchor in temporary shelter. The First Mate used her considerable skills at anchor delivery to delicately place the anchor between coral lumps and into the welcoming caress of sand.

It was nothing like Vlad the Impellor, the mechanical monster who we met previously at Moreton Island, but the engine's impellor blades were sheared off again and the crew wandered around sniffing the air as coolant vapour gently wafted past. More than likely we had sucked air into the seawater intake on the big wave causing an air lock. The uncomfortable thought with this theory is that Arjuna would have virtually been presenting its very underside above the water in order to achieve this feat.

Local authority "Jim" at Gladstone VMR had some words of advice when we radioed in to report our changing plans. We heard this gentleman several times over the next few days providing valuable sea going advice to other boats. His suggestion to us was to continue on to Wistari Reef where the shelter was better rather than remain at Erskine. So mid afternoon, with the impeller replaced again and with the swell beginning to penetrate around Erskine Island we up anchored and set course for Wistari Reef around 4 miles away. The sea in the channel between reefs was potentially bigger than earlier; generally it is hard to tell these things with one's eyes shut. The crew were no help; happily watching a movie in the bow cabin and oblivious to the thumping of the bow in the swell and occasional headlining as all three of them entered zero gravity then hit the ceiling. We passed the odd turtle and a lonely sea snake who had chosen this day to go for a swim between reefs.

Mighty Wistari Reef. Breaker of swells

Arjuna pulled into the lee of Wistari Reef which is quite a vast coral shelf doing a grand job of stopping large breakers in their tracks.  The swell flattened out although the wind was gusting past 30 knots and we motored along in the surprisingly nice afternoon sun looking for a suitable sandy patch of anchorable depth to drop our trusty plow anchor (or Danforth - we haven't worked that out yet). The private Heron Island resort was tantalisingly close - almost within striking distance of a long range Zodiac Assault - but unfortunately the resort is not as accommodating to day travellers as Kingfisher Bay - so we contented ourselves at anchor. As content as could be with the wind stronger at times than at Sheridan Flats where we saw out our last strong wind warning. As the tide rose, the reef disappeared under the waters and once again, for all intents and purposes, we were regirted by the sea; and girted we remained for two rolly nights.

That's either gale strength or
a badly calibrated anemometer

Cosy on deck

On the third day, the sun rose above the waters and the wind had subsided. The crew were beginning to bounce off the lavish marine plywood that lines our walls having not touched land for several days. Arjuna set sail to the North in the direction of Northwest Island a 10 mile stretch and at the upper end of the Capricornia Cays group.

Northwest Island rose, sand lined and vegetated, above the horizon - a sight to see. We were the only yacht in the vicinity and pulled in close to the reef surrounding the island. The lack of other boats in this area was no surprise to "Jim" at VMR Gladstone. In fact, he appeared surprised that a cruising yacht had stayed so long in his area - most cruisers apparently head North quickly after visiting Lady Musgrave rather than being trapped out on the unprotected reefs.

We dropped the tender with full plans to make a shore assault and get some sand between the toes. Alas, being near low tide there was no hope of bringing our PVC tender onto the fringing reef so we dropped the tender anchor just off the coral and snorkeled instead. The crew were desperate to simply touch land but had to content themselves watching the Captain make the only landfall as he staggered up the reef in flippers like a penguin who has spent too long at sea.

The beach at Northwest Island is delightful...so we are told

Several small fishing tinnies were visible on the beach - trapped on the island as we were trapped in the water. As darkness fell, we were treated to the surreal site of a mighty fishing mothership appear out of the blackness, turn on full spot lights and begin to deploy fishing tinnies and small motor boats via crane. In the dark, some hardy fisherperson set up temporary port and starboard lights across the reef and the fishing boats spawned across to the beach on the rising tide. Suddenly uncrowded Northwest Island had become the site of some weekend long fishing tournament.

Our thoughts had been to stay a couple of nights at Northwest Island - at least long enough to see one daylight high tide and reach the sand - however, with the onslaught of vessels and the likelihood of shifting winds in the next day or so, a middle of the night decision was made to evacuate. At the unsociable hour of 0400, we collected our anchor and turned the bow towards Great Keppel Island lying around 45 nautical miles away.

It was a very good run to "GKI". When the wind rose around dawn and sitting off our quarter we were able to run before it in slight seas and clear skies. The crew rejoiced as we sailed into internet coverage mid-morning - all three younger crew members desperately

keen to get logged into their school classes and experience some other human contact.

Around lunch time, we pulled in to Long Beach on the southern side of Great Keppel Island bathed in sun and nicely sheltered. The only dark cloud - after several days of half rations... the coffee had run out.

Seagulls at Long Beach: Scourge of fish and chip eaters and Zodiacs everywhere