Blasé no more

Back in Cooktown the wait for the replacement rudder cable finally ended. The new starboard steering cable was installed in record time (about an hour), as we’d done this twice already for the port side. Another potentially serious problem emerged though: the flexible solar panel heated up so much it started to burn the fibreglass underneath. The instructions of placing the panel directly on the surface were ill-advised, it seems, as an air gap is required. Fortunately the supplier sent through a replacement panel and will hopefully now revise instructions to other purchasers.

           

We managed a short trip back to Lizard Island. We had intended to volunteer at the Marine Research Station there, but while in Cooktown we were offered a house to sit in the rainforest; a tough decision but the rainforest won, and volunteering at Lizard Island has been postponed. Our stay had to be brief, therefore, but being able to swim and snorkel again, without being overly concerned about crocodiles, though we had been told a two meter one lived there, was a joy.

Back in Cooktown we were given a timely reminder not to be complacent about potential dangers in the water. Captain stepped out of the dinghy onto a stingray. The stingray, of course, was not pleased about this and poor old Captain felt its wrath via a venomous barb. It managed to draw a surprising amount of blood as well as creating intense pain so Capt initially thought he had been bitten by something with lots of teeth, like, say, a small crocodile.

Nasty as this was at the time, considering the remote places we have been recently, it was fortunate it happened in Cooktown, where we have friends, there is a hospital, and across the road from the police station. Help was fast in arriving. The young ambulance officer gave Capt a painkilling pipe to inhale from, which resulted in a very calm Captain (Matey would like to source more of these!!) At the hospital the foot was immersed in hot water to neutralise the venom and more painkillers were administered. Poor old Captain spent the night in Cooktown hospital.

It’s also very fortunate that this reminder came from a stingray and not a crocodile. As it turned out, just a few days after we left Lizard Island, someone was bitten by the resident croc. Luckily it was during a night snorkel for the coral spawning, the guy was bigger than the croc and he was able to repel it with his flashlight so his injuries were minor. Mr Croc, of course, had unwittingly written his own death sentence.

Ninian Bay

After waiting for the succeeding high pressure systems in the Bight to weaken so that the south easterly winds stopped howling up the north Queensland coast, we were finally able to return to the benefits of so-called civilization. Admittedly, the notion of fresh fruit and the mangoes ripening in Cooktown did make this prospect tempting, after six weeks without fresh fruit, and even longer without internet or phone reception.

Flinders Island is not a difficult place to pass time. Matey couldn’t really wish for more spectacular scenery, though the lack of fresh water is a constant concern. National Parks have kindly provided two rainwater tanks (with a roof to catch it) but you need to be mindful of other boats who might be passing through before the wet season begins, so being parsimonious with water remains important in these otherwise dry islands.

The day when the wind was forecast to ease off to 10–15 knots arrived, with 10 knots forecast for the following day and 10–15 again for the next. This provided an opportunity to 'run' for Cape Flattery, where we would have internet and phone access at least, and then there would be just one final leg to Cooktown. We’d still be going against the wind, but not against 25–30 knots of it; with a broken rudder cable and limping boat we didn’t want to tempt fate.

The plan was to leave early each morning before the wind strengthened; first stop would be Cape Melville. Fortunately conditions were better than forecast and we were able to continue to Ninian Bay, where discovered a beautiful freshwater lake rich with melaleucas, magpie geese, and of course crocs! 

The next day after another 4 am start we anchored at Cape Flattery and today we reached Cooktown and the joy of fresh fruit! Just before we arrived a large Bludger Trevally hooked itself and provided dinner. New rudder cables can now be ordered.

View of 'the castle' at Stanley Island from our anchorage at Flinders Island

Ebb Tide at Flinders Island

Melaleucas and fresh water at Ninian Bay

Captain: always cheered by fresh water

Denham Island

'Penned' 14 October

We are waiting in the Flinders Group until a suitable ‘weather window’ presents itself for going south. Each new high pressure system creates a ridge on the Queensland coast and brings strong south-easterlies. The wait gave us time to visit Denham Island. The morning was beautiful with just a gentle breeze so getting there involved a pleasant sail. Our friends showed us a large cave with numerous paintings, mainly of ships. Were these all Aboriginal? Some appeared old and fading, but others might have been more recent. Perhaps some of the many Bêche de Mer fishermen wrecked in the 1899 cyclone Mahina ended up here? 

Apart from the paintings the rock formations on Denham Island were striking. The return trip was a little more exciting than on the way across. Ebb Tide was rolling in the swell, and launching the dinghy to return to her was challenging. We managed to break a paddle (we were already using one of the spares) and getting from the dinghy onto Ebb Tide was also challenging in the swell. Retrieving the anchor proved worrisome as it turned out we had anchored too close to a coral bommie that had been invisible at high tide when we arrived, and then getting the sail up proved dramatic. Firstly the halyard went half-way up the mast without sail attached! Eventually it was retrieved and the sail was raised while the swell was rolling, the wind was blowing at 25 knots and with all this going on Matey tried to keep Ebb Tide’s nose into the wind for mainsail hoisting with — as it turned out — a broken rudder cable!

Fortunately catamarans have two steering cables and as the port cable had broken before, we knew it was possible to rig the steering up with octy straps. Of course, we also didn’t have spare rudder cables so this is another reason to return to ‘civilisation’ rather than further away from it. Now we wait safely back in our anchorage at Flinders Island, for the northerlies to blow …

Matey the hunter?

It appears that Matey’s reluctance to kill is inversely proportional to the amount of food available. She managed to skewer a crab through the brain (as demonstrated by a fisherman friend) to save it from a more unpleasant death, and then, back at Flinders Island, with food stores declining she had her first deliberate fishing expedition in a long time — with success! Matey and Captain each caught a schooling sweetlips and these provided enough lunch for the four of us. This is the progress Matey was hoping for. She can do it when required ...

To Princess Charlotte Bay

'Penned' 13 October

We said a temporary ‘goodbye’ to Annie and Ronnie as we made our way to Bathurst Head with Sam to explore some of Princess Charlotte Bay. Having a much deeper draft, our friends on Siri weren’t keen to anchor a long way offshore in this shallow, flat bay. The first night we anchored behind Bathurst Head, where there are some quite spectacular rock formations. It wasn’t hard to imagine molten rock bubbling here.

With strong winds forecast for the next few days we needed to find somewhere more protected to hide. There are several large and crocodile-rich rivers draining the surrounding flat wetlands into Princess Charlotte Bay, so for the first few days we hid in the Normanby River. This is quite an attractive river with tall mangroves but just one problem: it’s virtually impossible to get ashore, though we did manage to dinghy up the river for several kilometers before admitting defeat in the face of the wind and chop making the dinghy ride unpleasant and approaching dangerous. Sam helped ease the pain by supplying us with mudcrabs and laughs.

After a couple of days a change of scenery was required and we went further south into Princess Charlotte Bay in search of a river with shore access. We ended up anchored in the Annie River near a popular campsite for barramundi fishermen and crabbers. It was a flat, windswept spot that showed how much they value their fishing as they weren’t there for the view or ambience. After the rainforest blanketed hills of much of FNQ and the dramatic scenery at the Flinders Islands the flat landscape surrounding us was uninspiring (to the Matey anyway). At least it was possible to get ashore though, and a bumpy, 4WD track promised an escape route. About 10 km along this were some freshwater billabongs (also croc-infested) but the view was pleasant, the melaleucas welcoming and it was possible to wash clothes and cool off via a bucket lowered down to the water by rope from a considerate live log across the billabong.

Due to the untimely re-emergence of an ancient knee injury, which made walking or bike riding difficult, Matey was mostly boat-bound and doesn’t have fond memories of Annie River and the flat, windswept landscape nearby. Strong wind warnings forced us to hide there for more than a week. During this time a mud dauber wasp began constructing a nest inside the boat (it would have been fascinating to watch it grow but it seemed likely that the wasp’s rage at eventually being cast out of the boat was likely to be proportional to the amount of time it had invested in building its abode, so once the wasp’s intentions had become apparent Ebb Tide went into lockdown. The wasp was quite persistent though until it became acquainted with some heavy duty Bushman’s applied through the (sarong) sandfly screens by which time it seemed to comprehend that the hitherto accommodating Matey had changed her mind. (Note that Matey was febrile with boredom at this point and had imagined the brightly coloured wasp to be just curious and friendly — until it dropped the mud it was carrying as it gazed into the Matey’s eyes and she realised what it was really scheming.) Fortunately Ebb Tide escaped the river next morning so the wasp and Matey had no further showdown. As we exited the river pretty wallabies on the banks hopped, stopped and stared after us. A large white thing floating along the river was apparently unusual enough to inspire curiosity …

Finally, the wild winds eased slightly and we were able to return to Flinders Island. We had contemplated going further north to Lockhart River or possibly even Portland Roads — tempted by the promise of phone and internet coverage and lured by the possibility of fresh fruit — and then on to the allegedly beautiful Forbes Island. But, circumstances conspired against us. First the engine-charging battery showed signs that its life was ebbing. Then the dinghy motor had issues and Captain discovered the propeller needed replacing (we had no spare on board). 

Apart from the concern of being able to return, which depended on the winds relaxing or going to the north (which usually occurs briefly in late October or November) or otherwise pounding head-on into the constant strong south-easterlies, going further north and then having a longer return trip with potential problems seemed not to be a good idea …

Interesting rock formations at Bathurst Head

Waiting for the tide to come back in at Bathurst Head

Rocks and water

‘Penned’ 1 October

A day on the eastern side of Flinders Island proved to be a good one and we had a new addition to our party. Sam from Blue Horizon joined us, which turned out to be a bonus as he is a born hunter with a large ‘tinny’ and, of course, a big motor. This was great for braving the swell and waves approaching the weather-beaten side of the island.

The spectacular rock formations here beg to be clambered over and explored, and we discovered numerous freshwater ‘wells’: holes small and large that had possibly been carved into the rocks over eons as smaller rocks propelled by water ground the holes out. Every few hundred metres seemed to provide a water-course, and we imagined the water pummeling down in the wet season after rain. The dry season must have been a thirsty one though for the indigenous population if they lived on these islands permanently, so presumably their visits were seasonal. Another theory we were told about the genesis of these wells is that they were deliberately created using fire and water, rather than being ground out by swirling stones over millennia. 

With Sam happy to provide us with fish and Annie’s catering we’ve been living and eating well despite the dearth of fresh fruit and vegetables. So far the deficit of fresh produce has been less traumatic than expected, though with time Matey may change her mind about this ...

The Flinders Group

'Penned' 23 September 2015

We teamed up with our friends on Siri of the Sea to head further north in convoy. As well as the imagined safety sailing in convoy provides, they’re good company and have proven to be excellent tour guides.

We left Lizard Island in some haste with good winds behind us and anchored at Ingram Island, where we surprised a young crocodile of around two metres on our sunset stroll around the island. (The speed with which it launched itself into the water made us ponder how the larger ones allegedly can also move with great rapidity when the need arises ...) With the wind expected to increase a little too much for comfortable sailing in a few more days we decided to continue to the Flinders Group to hide from the 25–30 knot winds forecast.

Our friends on Siri have been to the Flinders Group of islands many times before and consider it a second home. There is much evidence of Aboriginal occupation: the islands are rich with middens and cave paintings. On calmer days we were able to visit to Stanley Island via dinghy, which has a large cave with numerous paintings and a boardwalk for tourists. (Apparently the cruise liner Coral Princess visits regularly with its cargo of guests). Other less frequented caves scattered about the islands also contain paintings, but none so numerous as this ‘boardwalked’ site. The western end of Stanley Island also has a ‘tropical’ beach, and with sentry rocks high enough for good ‘croc spotting’ it was possible to have brief and refreshing dips without too much anxiety about morphing into dinosaur tucker. Crocs prefer mangroves and murky water after all, or logically, anywhere that will provide food …

Exploration of other sites and caves at the Flinders Group requires ‘bushbashing’. There are three tiers of rock ‘outcrops’ and as the islands are quite large and remote it is possible to trek through and find isolated caves and crevices (sometimes with art, and even skulls) and imagine no-one besides the original inhabitants knew about it.

In the Flinders islands there are some extraordinary rock formations resulting in caves (obviously), fissures and other geological delights. A reputed sacred site near where we anchored contains ‘wells’ and other hints at its prior significance. Sadly, we can only speculate on what might have occurred there, but the rugged beauty of this place provides its own allure. Like many of nature’s extraordinary places, it’s not difficult to believe this place is considered sacred by the oldest living culture.

On Flinders Island there is a burial cave, fenced off with mesh, which we’re told now contains fewer skeletons than previously. Thankfully there is no boardwalk to this cave, the content of which even the imposing mesh has not fully protected.

This group of islands was significant not only for its indigenous caretakers, but in the late nineteenth century numerous fishing boats used it as a base, and there was even a shop here. Much of this activity is now centred elsewhere, the shop is long gone and the last of the original inhabitants was moved on nearly a century ago. Allegedly a couple of shipwrecks adorn the shores. We still have more exploring to do, and hopefully tomorrow early we’ll be able to dinghy around to the ‘front’ or eastern side of the island, where there are more burial caves, fresh water and numerous delights besides, we’re reliably informed …

Another kind of rock art