Windy Week of Whitsuntide

The entire week after Whit Sunday (seventh Sunday after Easter) is known as Whitsuntide or Whit week. At this point if I was the Captain, I would be able to insert some hilariously self referential "Whit" play on words - but it's beyond a First Mate. 

Submarine vision (Second Mate)

When Captain Cook sailed up the east coast in 1770 , Whit Sunday fell on June 4th; some two hundred and forty four years later in 2014, we celebrated Whit Sunday on June 8th. Captain Cook by June 8th, had reached Dunk and Hinchinbrook Islands almost 300 nautical miles (or 520km) north and was soon destined to ground on Endeavour reef (June 10th) north of present day Cairns, at Cape Tribulation.

Here's a wonderful site where you can read Cook's and Joseph Banks' daily journal (or 1770 blog equivalent)  and this is what they had to say about the Whitsundays: http://jamescookjournal.blogspot.com.au/2013/06/4th-june-1770.html



Captain Cook's progress early June 1770

Meantime, Arjuna's Captain was spending Whit Sunday trying to solve his own boating dilemmas. He pulled out all his recent wiring and cabling completed in Mackay, and inspected the engine, to see if he could locate the source of the unexplained burning smell from the previous day. It remained a complete mystery. The electronics were all working again as normal and the cables and fuses all looked fine.

Another mystery of the sea - courtesy Ship's Monkey

While he scratched his head in puzzlement, the crew moved to alternate modes of transport, going for a spin in a golf cart around Hamilton - a huge highlight. The third mate had to be coaxed back onto the boat having been enticed ashore to live the resort lifestyle for two luxurious nights. We sadly bid farewell and set sail westwards across the Whitsunday passage for Long Island, separated from the mainland by "The Narrows". 



Maybe this map will help . . .

Friends from Sydney were staying at Happy Bay, Long Island. We phoned the resort to use one of their eight moorings. The friendly staff assured us that no bookings were necessary as they had never seen all the moorings full. When we arrived the reason for this was obvious - only two of the eight moorings actually seemed usable. As the Captain handed over the not insubstantial mooring fee, the helpful lady at reception remarked that the moorings might be due for a service, as it had been some time . . .

 

Rainbow lorikeets at Long Island

A strong wind warning was forecast for the next 2 days. We decided after one night on the mooring to forego the privilege of paying for a mooring we weren't too sure about, and throw down our tried and tested anchor at no cost. A good decision, as the next night the wind howled. At 4am (why always at such an uncivilised hour?) it reached a maximum 52 knots (about 95km/hour).



The Captain and his minions inspect the mooring.

Our anchor held nicely in the mud, apart from some slight bending to the bow roller. We thought back to our first gale where the wind had hit 33 knots at Fraser Island after Cyclone Ita, and Wistari Reef where it reached 39, and how significant that had seemed to us at the time. We had certainly learnt a lot since then about our boat and its anchoring capabilities. 52 knots was a new record for us, but we felt more comfortable with what the great Arjuna could tolerate.

Foul weather at Happy Bay

Needless to say the weather was abysmal for our friends' tropical escape from the Sydney winter. However the crew had a wonderful time playing air hockey, tennis, minigolf, monopoly and sitting in the hot tub in the rain. Meanwhile the adults enjoyed the eccentric resort food and beverage service. Apparently Chef was a talented guitar player and moonlighting as the evening entertainment, but surely he was spreading his talents too thin? We all headed out to the boat for a warming lamb roast, and the Captain risked life and limb to prepare drinks in coconuts as the wind and rain lashed above decks.



No coconut is complete without a Hawaiian shirt

This was a perfect evening to sit cosy below decks and swap salty tales. Our friend recounted his astounding tale of shipwreck and mishap in Puerto Rico. This had occurred in formative years, and resulted in some Important Life Lessons Learned. The most valuable of these are useful advice for us all, whether sailors or no; the others we await in the highly anticipated memoirs:

Words of advice . . .

Number 1 life lesson: YOUR LIFEJACKET IS MORE USEFUL IF YOU DON'T LEAVE IT ON THE BEACH.

Number 2 life lesson: If your boat won't budge, it pays to LOOK UP and CHECK THAT THE MAST IS NOT TANGLED IN POWER LINES.


By Thursday the sun finally came out and the wind started to abate, sadly a little late for our friends who had to return to Sydney, but finally a chance to leave the anchorage and explore the Whitsundays properly.

Lots of wildlife at Long Island

 We headed northeast to Nara Inlet on Hook Island, a peaceful fjord-like inlet that extends into the island about 2.5 nautical miles (approx. 5km) hemmed in by very steep hills covered in Hoop Pines. At the top of the inlet we kayaked over to a small beach and walked a short way to view Aboriginal rock art in a cave.

Nara Inlet

 These continental islands were cut off from the mainland between 6000-12000 years ago. Archaeological evidence of habitation in this particular cave goes back no further than 9000 years suggesting that the seafaring Ngaro people may have started to live there as the sea levels rose. Even though the Whitsunday Islands are line of site navigation in good weather, we certainly saw some conditions in the Whitsunday Passage that were challenging in an enclosed 44 foot fibreglass boat. It's hard to imagine crossing in an open outrigger canoe.
 

Holy Batfish!

Friday dawned with sunshine and low wind, so we snatched the opportunity to snorkel Langford Reef. Here we had our first encounter with a nosy batfish who appeared at the back of the boat, smiling and squirting water out of his mouth at us, apparently batfish language for "Feed me!". There was some decent coral and lots of tropical fish to see on the reef, but water was still stirred up by all the wind.

Overnight we took a public mooring at Blue Pearl Bay, Hayman Island, where the crew had a chance to handfeed hordes of batfish from the swim deck on the back of the boat. They seem to enjoy leftover turmeric risotto (I'm referring to the batfish of course).

 

Rainbow fish - Ship's Monkey