Blood on the deck!

Dunk Island seemed the perfect location to read EJ Banfield, (thanks to Ron for first recommending this!) but before we’d finished, awareness dawned that we’d have to evacuate due to strengthening winds and an increasingly uncomfortable anchorage as the swell swirled around the sand spit.

With gusts of up to 35 knots firing down the slopes, Captain, as anchor wench, had an altercation with our trusty friend the Rocna's winch: wet hands slipped and the cold, steel handle flew from the winch and gashed his forehead only centimetres from left eye! Oh dear. Captain saw red as the blood flowed. Steristrips to the rescue! This will be another of Captain’s many battle scars but Matey is greatly relieved that it was forehead and not eye: she shudders to think what might have been …

Wounds were calmly attended to (by the historically squeamish Matey — though amazingly [and thankfully!] there was no sign of squeamishness on this occasion when it actually mattered) and then the raising of the anchor continued. The God of Wind chose to be merciful as we completed the task and hoisted the mainsail.

Away towards the safety of Mourilyan Harbour in winds of up to 30 knots so it was a fast trip of about 3 hours, but with a beam-wards swell of 3 metres (Captain claims it was 4) it was not the most comfortable and definitely too exciting for the Matey. The sight of frolicking whales, though, not far from our destination, cheered the Matey considerably. We sailed in as it was too rough to take the mainsail down. Just as we reached the narrow entrance, with rocks lurking on each side, the water converged creating a massive swell and we effectively surfed in. Time for a quick burst of engine power to get us through — then inside to the calm flat waters (comparatively speaking anyway).

We anchored behind the one large hill that offered some small amount of protection from the ferocious gusts, and at the end of pile moorings, where a few other boats had congregated. Safety at last, or so we thought. Sadly though, we were in the path of some serious tidal current, which created an opposing force to the wind and together they conspired to create a challenge for even the trusty Rocna. Still, we got through the night unscathed despite being woken by rain squalls, and were still in the same location in the morning.

With the ferocious wind expected to continue until the weekend, a few days sheltering at Mouriliyan Harbour seemed inevitable. We decided a bike ride to Mourilyan or Innisfail would be today’s major activity, and Captain could perhaps have his wound attended to by a real doctor. So, ashore we went for the morning shower (a hot shower is kindly provided by our good friends, VMR). A boat ramp and dinghy dock is also available, but it was so rough we couldn’t leave the dinghy tied up or it would have been shredded in minutes, so we hauled it up the ramp. 

Drag queen
As we emerged from showers some violent gusts came through.

Captain gazed over lovingly at TC, and uttered,‘Quick, TC is dragging!’  

Sure, sure, thought the Matey. The wind will have changed direction and it just looks like TC’s on the move — it’s happened before.

But sure enough, TC was now halfway alongside the pile moorings. The (now perhaps not so?) trusty Rocna had indeed dragged! In horror we ran to the dinghy, but more rain squalls pushed us back. So strong was the wind that Matey turned her back to it and leaned against it and remained upright. In those gusts we couldn’t launch the dinghy down the ramp and into the wind so we waited a few anxious moments while they passed, but thankfully TC appeared to have stopped dragging and was in the same position beside the pile moorings. Soon enough we were racing towards TC as fast as we could go. We needn’t have bothered with the first shower ...

The closer we got to TC the more worried we became as we realised she was now positioned directly beside another boat moored on the piles and they were becoming very well acquainted. So close were they, they were almost touching, so getting the fenders on was the first job as she was moving only slowly if at all. The God of Wind again proved merciful as the gusts briefly calmed and allowed us to work. The obvious thing to do at this point was to ease TC into the thankfully empty pile mooring space behind her new friend. Some kind soul had left large mooring ropes attached to the piles. Captain grabbed the rope and Matey slowly let the anchor chain and rope out and we eased TC into position. Front rope was secure. Fortunately the wind was blowing in just the right direction so we could easily secure the rear ropes too. Another rope on the front and all’s well that ends well. This is one way to get into a pile mooring but we probably wouldn’t recommend it. 

Retrieving the Rocna

Again the gods had been kind in the combination of wind and tide directions. Not only had TC dragged alongside the pile moorings rather than crashing into them and the boats moored there, but the chain was laid out beside them, so we were able to pull it up by hand and into the dinghy easily enough. The last few hauls just weren’t bringing the anchor in though, even with a burst of dinghy motor. The Rocna was clearly caught. Investigation revealed it was caught on not one chain, but two — one over the roll-bar and one underneath with the mud. Did these chains perhaps save TC? Possibly they slowed her progress once she was on the move, but did they cause her to drag in the first place? And if so why not sooner? No doubt this will be the subject of much cogitation. The Rocna wouldn’t have set again with the chains there anyway — that’s asking too much of a good friend. This illustrates the danger of anchoring near piles and in places frequented by many boats. Who knows what has been dumped on the bottom, and chain is bad news ...

Crises averted

We’re counting our blessings for the extraordinary good fortune we seem to have had in the last 24 hours, as several things that could have resulted in disaster, didn’t. Fingers are crossed our luck will continue.

Some reasons to be grateful things happened exactly as they did follow.

1  Captain’s eye was not the casualty.

2  The wind eased while we sorted out Captain’s head-wound (with the anchor no longer holding us — though we did need to use the motor to maintain position) and then finished winching the anchor in and hoisted the mainsail, in a small anchorage with other boats nearby and rocks and an islet ready to take us out with one false move.

3  We dragged when we did rather than during the night.

4  The wind blew at the angle it did and the tide pulled TC in the direction it did. One or two more degrees to port (the left) and it would have been onto the piles and into other boats ... and all over.

5  It happened while we went ashore to shower, rather than while we rode into Mourilyan as planned for a little later in the day, and just as Captain happened to glance across (lovingly) at TC. 

6  The owners of TC's new close friend have just arrived, and found her front rope has worn down and was just holding on to the pile by two strands. Had the rope broken ...
7  We can learn from this and the three of us (TC, Captain and Matey) and nearby boats are still safe.

Votive offerings
Thank you, gods of the wind, tide, sea, anchors and eyes, for your bounty, yet again! Offerings of thanks will be made at sunset in the form of Mojitos!

Poor old Captain!

Entrance to Mourilyan Harbour

What happens when you drag onto rocks. Rainbow's End met her end. We had just been squeamishly admiring her wounds when TC dragged.

Moments before the mighty Rocna dragged, TC at centre