We left you with the drama of the outboard motor being submerged by a bullet at the uncivilised hour of 4am at Shaw Island, but our stoic Captain immediately rinsed it with fresh water, and the outboard so far seems none the worse.
From Shaw Island, it was a short hop past yet another abandoned resort (Lindeman Island) and up the Dent Passage to Hamilton Island. Yachtspeople up and down the coast grumble about the cost of Hamilton Island marina, however none can deny its absolute fabulousness.
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| Hamilton Island glam |
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| Bustling Hamilton Island. |
A concierge awaited to guide us to our berth and take our lines - this played havoc with our usual "take no prisoners" approach to marina entry but the strategy seemed to work well to preserve the mirror like polish on the billion dollar superyacht moored up in the next berth.
As we gybed up Dent Passage in favourable winds, the top of the mast was almost taken off by an airliner coming in to land on the airstrip. We waved madly as our friends from Brisbane were incoming on the plane. We were keen to give them a dose of unique Arjuna hospitality they would never forget.
The First Mate studied the weather reports carefully and interrogated local experts regarding good snorkelling spots so we could show them the best that the Whitsundays had to offer. Saturday looked best weatherwise, with 15 knots forecast. There was only a small window of opportunity as a new high pressure system was starting to move through the Bight and the wind was supposed to increase over Sunday and Monday . . .
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| Whitehaven and Chalkie's Beaches look like this on a good day . . . promise |
Saturday dawned overcast and a bit drizzly. Not to worry, there were patches of blue sky here and there. Whitehaven was only a short sail away and good snorkelling was promised at Chalkie's Beach on Haslewood Island. Off we toddled. The Captain had prepared coconuts, swizzle sticks and cold beverages for a pleasant day of yachting.
As we rounded the northern side of Hamilton Island it seemed that the Bureau of Metereology had been overly optimistic. "It's not too far," we reassured our guests as we headed into wind, rain and whitecaps to get into the lee of Haslewood Island where some excellent snorkelling surely awaited. We made our way through the Solway Passage, noted somewhat nebulously in 100 Magic Miles for "tidal anomaly" and all of a sudden there we were at famous Whitehaven Beach.
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| Abandon hope all ye who enter here. |
At this point the Captain (to his credit) wanted to anchor for some champagne and antipasto, but the First Mate (to her eternal discredit) could see Chalkies Beach in sight and wanted to press on so we could get the motoring over before lunch, as by this time everyone was starting to look slightly green. Some lively navigational debate ensued, and eventually we pulled up close to Haslewood Island. Surprisingly our depth sounder still showed 40-100m depth and the current was racing through Solway Passage - not ideal anchoring conditions. The sky was overcast so we couldn't see the promised patch of sand for anchorage and the reef seemed awfully close. We managed to find a shelf at 8m depth and tried to anchor only to find it was a coral bottom very close to the extremely steep drop off.
After 4 attempts at anchoring and dragging ever closer to the reef we cancelled the plan to go snorkelling and headed back across to Whitehaven for lunch. No one quite felt like cold beverages in coconuts - much to the Captain's disappointment. But everyone's colour had started to return and we headed across for a wander on the famed patch of sand - not quite at its prime in the wind and drizzling rain - to gawk at a bridal party who had arrived by helicopter for their wedding photos.
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| Whitsunday drizzle |
The time had come to return our treasured guests to Hamilton Island. The younger crew members were sent below decks out of the rain to cosier conditions for a movie. We hit the Solway Passage and suddenly the Bureau's 15 knots had doubled to 30 with some gnarly wind against tide conditions creating a heavy swell. Maybe time to bring Sunday's weather prediction forward a day.
As the boat became increasingly airborne and bashed around, our navigational instruments started to flicker ominously and then gave up completely. This was concerning as we still needed to navigate our precious cargo past the upcoming "Surprise Rock". At about the same time the younger members of the crew informed the First Mate something was burning downstairs, and sure enough the First Mate on descending could also smell an alarming electrical burning smell permeating the interior of the boat. After throwing the relevant paper charts and smaller crew members ensconced in lifejackets up on deck into the wet, the First Mate shut down every piece of electrical equipment with fire extinguisher at the ready, while the Captain raised sail and turned off the engine and we all sat on deck in the wind and rain and waited tensely to see what would happen next.
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| Can we barbecue you some electricals after your canapes? |
The high rise of Hamilton was comfortingly visible only a couple of nautical miles distant, but none of us relished the possibility of having to abandon a burning ship at short notice in large waves.
And then all of a sudden the sea started to settle - had we passed through that infamous Solway "tidal anomaly"?- and with the electronics shut down the burning smell started to subside. As the boat settled into a slightly more settled rolling motion we cautiously turned the navigation back on and it worked! Thankyou Neptune.
The day was almost complete, and could surely throw no more at us. The First Mate radioed in to Hamilton marina. The only berth left in the rising wind was one where there was no room for error as it was a blow off onto the most expensive shiniest superyacht of them all. It was after 5pm so there would be no delightful concierge to assist. "Thankyou" replied the First Mate. "You have no idea how much we would love to have that berth," as she rallied her crack team of ten and eleven year olds bearing all available fenders and mooring lines. As the Captain executed a perfect portside turn into the berth, Arjuna's bedraggled soggy crew had the lines secured faster than anyone could utter "Ten million dollar insurance policy".
And so it came to be that a textbook return into our marina berth was the highlight of our day in the sailing paradise that is the Whitsunday Islands. Our guests (like others before them) rushed onto land and kissed the sweet, sweet earth. And remain strangely non committal on our promise to take them out another time in better weather.
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| Hamilton Island Yacht Club - in fine weather. |
