Again with the Whitsundays

At Blue Pearl Bay we spied the sun and courted the voracious batfish with their favoured meal of delicately flavoured arborio rice. At last, the Whitsundays were beginning to show us their true colours and some snorkelling was likely in the upcoming days with the water clearing after the turbulence of the recent winds. All was well. Which is when a gentle wind change, much like that early in Pirates of the Carribean, wafted across the bay and heralded trouble brewing in the air. Months on the sea had tuned the senses of the Captain to these subtle shifts in the atmosphere and sure enough, on the falling of dusk, a no good pirate ship drifted into Blue Pearl Bay and secured itself to another mooring buoy. There was something unusual about this boat indeed: it came with the lines of a clipper but with a fully enclosed transparent marquee erected on the deck. The immediate blaring of some sort of Ibiza house music mix heralded its intentions and these intentions were unmistakable: a backpacker's dance party until the wee hours of the morning.

`The sun departs for the Winter Solstice at Stonehaven

Pirates! Pirates with a marquee, Blue Pearl Bay

The Ship's Monkey responded with his own particular brand of dance moves on the foredeck. The Captain, banned from all forms of dancing by the First Mate, issued orders for the remainder of the crew to roll out the cannon.

To be fair, the dulcet tones of some English backpacker DJ reving up a crowd of backpackers were less disturbing than the incessant knocking of the Marine Parks mooring buoy which tapped at our hull all night. There is little that can be done to prevent this in low wind. The mooring buoys are installed throughout the more popular Whitsunday anchorages to cope with the massive influx of charter vessels that infest these waters. Gone are the days when the Rear Admiral prowled these waters and could tie his lonely vessel up to the nearest coral bommie and settle down to BBQ a freshly speared dugong. The buoys have a two hour limit unless you pick one up after 1500 hours in which case your vessel can stay all night - although running out the cannons to ward off potential mooring pirates is not a bad precaution. The buoys are large and made of hard plastic - intended to sustain most vessels in relatively strong winds but in low wind the buoy knocks into the hull as the boat moves around with the tide.

The Captain made repeated attempts to silence the accursed mooring throughout the night. Numerous and increasingly desperate roping and fender combinations were rigged up until the foredeck was coated in slime from the mooring rope and criss crossed with several hundred metres of ineffective rope solutions - and all the while accompanied by the throbbing beat of "Atlantic Clipper" across the bay - now playing some timeless classic 2009 German Psy-trance hits as foam poured off their deck and their generator struggled to support the sound track and their dance floor lasers.

The coming of dawn revealed the pirates for what they were: lobster red and severely hungover. The privateer, Atlantic Clipper, departed in the morning, as did many of the other vessels and so with no boats queuing up for the mooring we took the opportunity to send out the Zodiac for a coral assault. At lunch time, we cast off and headed around the top of Hayman Island into Butterfly Bay on Hook Island.

The crew display respective allegiances

The weather forecast suggested more increasing winds from the south-east so we headed deep into the anchorage to collect another mooring. One would expect, if one were to consult a chart, that Butterfly Bay would be very sheltered from any winds out of the south what with the almost 20 kilometres of land protecting it. It does have a reputation for so called "bullets" - gusts that build up and drop over the hills - but for the next four days the fair ship Arjuna rode out another period of sustained wind not just periodic gusts. There was no danger of the mooring buoy tapping on the hull here - the buoy was way off the bow as we wriggled back and forward under the 30 knot plus breeze. Given the winds, there were few yachts passing through and we kept the same mooring the whole time. We scratched our heads wondering where all the hundreds of charter boats were sheltering. It seemed, listening to "Comedy Hour" on the radio that many were tucked in Nara Inlet - completely open to the south.

The delightful crew of the mighty vessel Mustang Sally were also bunkered down in Butterfly Bay. Mustang Sally were on one of their many cruising trips up the coast and were always a font of knowledge on sailing matters. They took a down wind tender trip and joined us one afternoon for canapes and petit-fours on the Arjuna entertaining deck. Mustang Sally were able to fill us in on the operation of the party fleet in the Whitsundays. It seems that most "party" or tourist charters out of Airlie Beach were operating on a two night cycle and we had caught Atlantic

Someone on the loose with the Captain's camera

Clipper on the second night on their return leg to Airlie. With us wisened up, the crew of Mustang Sally boarded their tender and struggled back upwind into the gale.

After three days, the First Mate was beginning to show strong signs of cabin fever. She led a Zodiac Assault onto the island with two of the crew - leading the party up

Another wild day at Butterfly Bay

a creek in search of higher ground and some form of exercise. The crew were particularly impressed with the First Mate when she managed to lift the tender and engine back down to the water over oyster covered rocks after the tide departed to other parts. The Captain was particularly impressed that the shore party hadn't punctured the tender in the process. Despite the wind, we did also manage to get some snorkelling in at Butterfly Bay despite the poor water clarity. The Ship's Monkey spotted several giant clams and managed to avoid getting a limb caught as an added bonus.

On day four, we determined that it was time to move on by using the simple sea trick of standing on the foredeck and measuring how much tonic could remain in a glass over a period of thirty seconds. We bid our farewell to Butterfly Bay, drifting quickly out and around between Hook and Hayman Islands where it was clear that the wind was still strong but gradually abating. Arjuna pulled in to the Stonehaven anchorage on the west side of Hook Island and picked up another mooring for the night. We celebrated the Winter Solstice in the traditional manner by watching the sun go down from our observation deck.

In the morning, the wind was at a far more pleasant level and a fine sail saw us leave Hook Island for Cid Harbour on Whitsunday Island. Cid Harbour was quite crowded and we did well by bringing Arjuna in close to the beach where the bareboats fear to tread. Unfortunately, spying our enviable anchorage, another yacht decided to drop their anchor off our bow close enough for us to see their skipper changing his mind. On our way into the beach on a Zodiac Assault, we motored up to the offending vessel and politely pointed out the closeness of our boats.

Whitsunday Peak looking North

By lying to the younger crew members about the extent of our walking plans, the crew were tricked into making a summit attempt on Whitsunday Peak, reaching the top well after our planned turn back time - a disaster waiting to happen if this were, say, the north face of Cho Oyu but not such a problem when the major concern is the camembert over-softening back on the boat. The view from the top was admittedly pretty

Whitsunday Peak. Hamilton visible in the distance

spectacular with most of the main Whitsunday islands and anchorages clearly visible.

Under full cloth (and solar panels) into Airlie

The next morning we set our sails and made a course for the tranquil paradise of Airlie Beach. Befitting the occasion, Arjuna sailed into Pioneer Bay and the Abell Point Marina under full ceremonial bunting. A marina courtesy officer was on hand to collect a mooring line to the head and gasp in admiration as the First Mate vaulted the life lines and onto the dock.

The Guy Who Tells Us What to Do doesn't talk highly of Airlie Beach but we were more than happy with our stay in this backpacking mecca. We managed to finally catch up with the crew of the catamaran Twilight. The Captain replaced his triple plugger thongs (stolen by gypsies on Long Island) with far more robust five pluggers. We saw the best coral that we had witnessed so far in the

The sort of thing the Captain buys these days

Whitsundays: growing wild on the marina.  We visited the markets and stocked up on mysterious tropical fruits and vegetables such as

Pioneer Bay

carrots and pineapples. The younger members of the crew engaged in some bartering with the locals by exchanging legal tender for market goods such as shiny rocks and on services such as a guy building a sand castle. We caught up with the crew of Dilligaf who were having a fine time cleaning out their bilges.

Brain coral, Abell Pt Marina

The Captain spent some productive hours on some much needed maintenance. We eyed off Atlantic Clipper shanghaing new victims from the nightclubs of Airlie. In fact, the marina at Airlie was completely active with bareboat charter yachts and catamarans heading out or coming back in (for repairs) and commercial charter vessels taking out large groups for the two night tours. We carefully observed their cycles and departed when they were all in port.

A fine looking vessel catches our eye at Airlie Beach