Raising the bar

Finally, on Saturday, with the cyclone season at an end and light southerly winds forecast for a few days, we waved goodbye to Brisbane, exited the river and headed north. We anchored for the night at Bulwer at the north of Moreton Island at the bay entrance. Being the Easter long weekend it was partyland and campers on the beach generously shared their music until the wee hours. The full moon shone across illuminating the island, water and merriment on the beach.

Next morning the anchor came up at 4 am (ouch!) and we were once more making our way north. The planned stop at Mooloolaba had to be postponed as a revised forecast suggested it would be wise to cross the treacherous Wide Bay Bar at the southern tip of Fraser Island at high tide on Monday morning, so rather than hugging the coast we headed directly for Double Island Point — across the South Pacific Ocean. There was an uncomfortable swell and Matey was disappointed to feel queasy much of the way. It was a relief to finally put the anchor down behind the point at around 6 pm. Captain claims the ‘washing machine’ effect is not generally experienced at sea. Hmmm. Matey hopes not – or at least that as she acquires ‘sea legs’ the effect will be less grim … Captain was excited to see a large marlin leap from the water en route and we also had dolphins playing at the bow. Normally Matey would be delighted by this but her enthusiasm for all things was sadly challenged.

Crossing the bar was rough but painless enough with the coast guard happy to provide way-point co-ordinates. The lead lights also helped as breakers broke on each side and we rode in on the swell. It was easy to see why the bar is regarded as dangerous — it was a good idea to cross it at high tide in calm conditions and in daylight. Once inside, it was warm, the water was flat and you would never suspect what is on the other side of Inskip Point. In the still waters Captain investigated a strange noise coming from the motor. Oops – a bolt holding the engine together had loosened and worked its way off. Fortunately the engine didn’t fall apart in the ocean or as we were crossing the bar. As we slowly drifted Captain unbolted parts of the engine. Eventually the problem was more or less sorted and we made our way into Pelican Bay and anchored at the far end. Sadly, the dinghy motor also seems to have suffered in its first sea journey and was refusing to start. Perhaps it didn’t like the swell either. Captain has investigated  and found the throttle was damaged and stuck  – another problem sorted  – phew!

Bogan manners (and oxymorons)

During a well-deserved afternoon nap Matey was rudely woken by the noise of a couple in a tinny towing a child along at high speed in an inflatable ring. They had an entire lake to play in, but found it necessary to speed by within metres in loops of the only boat anchored. Not only is this bad manners, it is also illegal, according to the Captain. So, feeling justified in her slumber-induced grumpiness, Matey resorted to desperate measures to scare them off. It seemed to work – or perhaps it was just a coincidence – but soon after they left us alone. Matey celebrated a minor victory over bogans while Captain cringed in embarrassment!

A late afternoon walk to and dip in the ocean beach improved the Matey’s mood. Back at the  boat, the just-past-full moon rose over the lake. Matey can’t even begin to describe its beauty, unobstructed by buildings and other evidence of ‘civilisation'...

Cliffs near the bar - note the swell!

Double Island Point

Late afternoon dip

Putting the L in TC

After a wet weekend and with rain forecast all week, plus the delay of a day for the scheduled dry docking of TC, it’s been all systems go since early Tuesday morning when TC was lifted into slings and hoisted out of the water. A pressured hose down was followed by scouring, scrubbing and scraping off of barnacles until our time in the sling expired and TC was put on blocks in the dry dock for further TLC.

Our friend from the moorings, Bert the Boat Builder, kindly came to help us out. Fortunately there was very little osmosis, but Bert’s expertise on sorting any hull issues/damage was greatly appreciated.

Conveniently, we’ve had three perfect sunny days, so yesterday and today we were able to apply a coat of anti-foul each day. We’re not scheduled to go back in the water until after the weekend, so Matey might even manage to visit the conveniently located swimming pool over the weekend for some laps. Seeing as we’re so far ahead of schedule Captain is dreaming up other jobs that need doing while in dry dock and have access to water – e.g. cleaning the boat down thoroughly, polishing the white area, replacing the dodgy water pump, etc etc. Relax Captain, relax.

Sea of masts at Manly: view from the dry dock

Before

Matey is impressed by the fin-like centreboards

Captain Bluebeard and some girl

The local bakery keeps the Captain going ... or maybe he keeps it going?

Captain cracks open a new can

First coat 

Matey gets her hands (and feet) dirty

Final coat

Running the gauntlet

The last few weeks have involved to-ing and fro-ing between the Brisbane River and the islands in Moreton Bay. In the river, disembarking in under three hours can be a challenge as the temptation to chat en route can be too great for the Captain to resist …

Captain deprogrammed

A visit to Brisbane’s maritime museum seemed obligatory, so, sensibly, on the hottest day so far we walked to the museum and another ray of light was shone on the Captain’s complex soul. An old naval ship, HMAS Diamantina, in the dry dock is open for viewing. This ship was commissioned in 1945 and while Captain ain’t quite that old and his time spent on navy ships was slightly more recent, Matey got a sense of the trauma involved in living the life of a sailor in the confined spaces of a sweltering metal hulk. 

The higher Matey went in the ship the hotter it got, until she thought she might pass out in the boiler room, though the engine was dead. 
Matey was perplexed to observe that the person steering the ship was in effect blind, as this was done from an almost windowless enclave. Orders were barked down a pipe from above, apparently. As Captain likes to obey orders (particularly those issued by the Matey) she is surprised he lasted as long as he did in such an environment. His rebellious spirit was appeased, however, by the offering of a new hat …

Kathryn visited for a few days and we made our way into the bay. The weather wasn’t so great so we were all relieved to arrive at Mud Island and put our trusty friend the Rocna down. Soon after David and Cate – acquaintances from the moorings – visited for afternoon tea and dinner. We discovered over breakfast the next morning that their boat is gorgeous inside as well as outside. They are a refreshingly young and interesting couple with all the idealism Matey remembers – a fading glimmer from long ago. They then led us on a search for a whale skeleton in one of the ‘creeks’ of Mud Island accessible only at high tide. As always with whales – it was fascinating to see the scale of these awe-inspiring creatures, and as always in photos – the subject was diminished by the attempt to capture, and Matey managed to goof the process up entirely.

Given the slip

The scheduled day of the lift-out finally arrived today. After much shopping around, we decided on the Moreton Bay Trailer Boat Club as the venue for the scrubbing and repainting/anti-fouling of the hull because it uses slings (rather than trolleys). An unusually narrow catamaran has many advantages, but also some disadvantages, as TC can’t be hauled out using the standard catamaran (or monohull) trolleys. So, this limited options. This morning however, we received a call to tell us hauling out wouldn’t be possible due to the ‘strong wind warning’. Interestingly these have been absent many days in the last few weeks when we’ve ventured out into the bay to confront 30+ knot winds, but today, with just calm rain, a warning has been issued. Strange.

Even gait

At least though this meant a medical emergency could be attended to and poor old Captain now has three stitches in his toe. For those familiar with his recent medical history – it’s the other foot, so he’s now able to walk without a limp as both feet hurt! Balance is a good thing…

Blood on the deck

The medical emergency came about yesterday afternoon as we were making our way to anchor near Manly, so we’d be ready for the scheduled haul-out this morning. A nice man in a big monohull tried to run us down (no – really). Some people here don’t seem to pay much attention to quaint notions of boating safety (e.g. cross behind rather than directly in front of an on-coming vessel in a channel) so we are becoming accustomed to this. As we were under full sail (we had right of way) a large two-decked monohull bore down on us at an alarming speed on a direct collision course and we assumed he would change course later than we would like, just to make our day interesting. But as he got to within 100 metres Captain’s keen eyes noticed no-one was at the helm but the autopilot and he jumped up to gesticulate and shout things that can’t be repeated here. Mr Motorboat was then observed to scurry upstairs and the boat turned 180 degrees just moments before impact! Sadly though, in all the excitement, blood was spilled on the deck. Matey – expert stower and normally quite safety conscious – put down the nail scissors she was using as she jumped to her feet. Captain leapt up on the deck and managed to jump exactly where Matey had put the scissors! We assume this is how the Captain got the gash in his toe anyway, otherwise it's a mystery. Poor old Captain!

Washed-out landlubbers

Frequent heavy rain for more than a week confined us to the boat in Brisbane River on a few occasions – cabin fever threatened to visit. With time to spare, Matey devoted some time to brushing up on her French (with podcasts, French neighbours at the moorings and their books all helping out). If we ever do venture out into the Pacific it will be useful, Matey tells herself …

High and not so dry

We are now back at beautiful Moreton Island, at the Big Sandhills anchorage towards the southern end of the island. The water was brown-green, teeming with jellyfish and not so inviting when we first arrived – the run-off from the recent deluge still lurking in the bay. But two days later the water was once again clear and apparently free of jelly.

The relatively strong winds of the last few days (good for testing the wind generator) have eased off, and the bay is now lake-like – calm and flat with just a few ripples on the surface. Rays, fish and seagulls pay their respects, and even pelicans were fishing nearby earlier today. (Matey is impressed by the good manners of the seagulls here, in contrast to their southern counterparts. Matey could even begin to like them if they all behaved so respectfully). Turtles seem to be checking us out when we go ashore. At low tide the soft clacking of soldier crabs announces their presence in the thousands. There are only a couple of other boats to be seen in the distance, and apart from a few 4WDs a day travelling along the beach, not a human to be seen.

Atop the ‘Big Sandhills’  – aptly named as it’s quite a climb up – there is a series of freshwater lakes and ponds due to the recent rains. The water filters through the sand to form pristine pools. Captain was reminded of an oasis in the (as yet unvisited by him) Sahara and expected to see at any moment a Beduoin tribe with harem in tow. (Sadly, he was disappointed.) At the very top of these sandhills is an eerie landscape (sandscape?) with pottery-like rock scattered through, along with vegetation.

One-tree sandhill

Views from Big Sandhills

Captain admires the oasis

Captain has a religious experience in the oasis

Matey walks in water

The bottom at this anchorage is wide and flat so bringing the boat in at high tide means it is beached at low tide. This meant we could lavish some attention on the hull. Captain is delighted to have a catamaran as monohulls have to park much further out.

Beached

Blue *rsed flies no more

It’s five months since the Matey finished work (ten months for the Captain, who required post-surgery recovery time). We have embraced the relaxed lifestyle — no more buzzing around …

It’s a short bike ride to the West End where there is a lovely (clean and sparsely populated!) 50 m lap pool at Musgrave Park. Matey arrived at 11 am one Sunday morning to find the pool completely empty – she wondered if it was closed. But no, overcast weather keeps the folks away, apparently. Bliss! Matey has been contemplating how this could be in the heart of Brisbane in a residential area on a weekend. Unheard of in over-crowded Melbourne. Captain puts it down to ‘mining money’ but this pool dates from before the mining boom, and Matey thinks surely a lot of that dosh would be used up in roads (greater distances, fewer people and seemingly an even stronger attachment to cars and 4WDs than in the south, if that is possible). Thoughts anyone?

Saturday morning trips to the market are a regular feature of life at the moorings. The West End market has fruit, vegetables, fish and the usual fare of jewelery and clothes as well as coffee and tasty treats. Many of the boaties make the trip up the river for supplies, so the market can be quite a social gathering. Some weeks transport is by dinghy, some weeks we ride bikes.

En route to the market.

Captain enjoys a coffee at the market.

Captain has a wind problem

It seems both the wind generator and regulator have issues. Captain is currently investigating and Matey may be forced to acknowledge that Captain’s radar for malfunctioning equipment is in fact impeccable and he was not experiencing post-purchase dissonance. TBC …

The rich tapestry

We linger on in Brisbane River, getting to know the locals and surviving a sweltering scorcher (just) – good practise for the tropics when we finally get there (though Matey doesn’t feel any need to rehearse surviving mosquito bites, which she is also becoming well practiced at). Sadly though the crew was struck down by pestilence while languishing in the heat, which made it slightly more difficult to bear. Captain initially suspected scurvy (induced by too much plonk and not enough fruit and veg) but it turned out to be just a cold. Matey then insisted on garlic rations, despite Captain’s protestations and attempts to pull rank.

We are enlightened by other boaties’ theories on each other (have some of them been here too long? Have we perchance been here too long??) Apparently a couple of troglodites who rarely emerge from their hulls are chuffing away quietly. With numerous lone blokes, tales of ex-wives are bountiful. Captain’s theory is that the number of ex-wives relates to the health of said boatie’s state of mind. Captain suspects mutiny on one of the newly arrived boats as the water police paid a visit and Ms Boat (ex-wife to be?) was removed with baggage. Matey suspects a grumpy old Captain finally got justice …

Our lovely ‘rough diamond’ neighbour informed us that we lurk at the seat of Queensland power, beside the Stamford, where prime ministers stay when they visit the northeast and only a few hundred metres from Qld’s Parliament House. Last night we were treated to the Artic Monkeys, who played a gig at the Riverstage nearby. Party central across the river has returned, almost to its pre-xmas glory, with ABBA and the Bee Gees on rotation last night. Could be (and has been) worse – e.g. karaoke.

The barge taking soil surveys/samples for a future tunnel under the river continues working away and was parked a wee bit too close to TC for the Matey’s pleasure - only metres away with the joy of machinery noise, diesel fumes and spotlights at night. A recent all nighter (to speed things up for a tunnel that’s many years away yet) resulted in some constructive complaining and put a stop to night-time work – yay!

The Captain of Many Talents had a busy day installing the wind generator, but he’s experiencing a spot of post-purchase dissonance. Clearly it needs strongish (10+ knots) and consistent winds to do much in the way of power generation – and maybe Brisbane River ain’t the best place to get that. Matey thinks the Captain needs to give our new friend a chance to prove its worth in the bay …           

It was great to have a visit from Susie, Mick, Gemma, Damien and Sam on their way through to Mooloolaba! A record was broken as this was the first time we’d had seven people on the boat simultaneously. 

Hanging around

We’ve been based in the Brisbane River for several weeks now, waiting out the cyclone season. It’s been a productive time with the Captain making the brave decision that a wind farm was required (to Matey’s great relief). With many overcast days the solar panels were struggling to ensure computers and phones don’t sit idle. Oh, and important navigational instruments need power too. Said wind generator has arrived and just needs to be installed.

A visit from Jesse and Kelly meant a jaunt into Moreton Bay. In the first part of the week the weather was disappointing – with overcast days and strong winds – we clocked 50 knot winds one day and sailing was uncomfortable. There’s nothing like nasty weather though to inspire appreciation of the good stuff when it arrives. We spent the first night at Mud Island, aptly named as Jesse quickly got onto the job of catching crabs – and we had blue swimmer crab salad. Delicious!

We welcomed the new year from St Helena Island, a prison farm in former times. We could see the fireworks in Brisbane (just, thanks to the overcast skies). Fortunately there was an early set on for Captain and Matey, who were slumbering long before midnight. Then the weather and wind direction improved enough for us to be able to stay at the lovely Moreton Island. Finally we had blue sky and turquoise waters, snorkeling, walks along the beach and drinks at sunset (and beyond). Not surprisingly, Tangalooma was crowded with boats, 4WDs and campers. Most people behaved themselves fairly well though, apart from speeding jetskiers (who received a stern warning from Captain Plod) and some campers who were overly generous in sharing their tasteful music. We’ve since heard there’s bushfire at Moreton Island thanks to a careless camper’s gas bottle …

Back at Brisbane River, we’re becoming better acquainted with the fellow boat people and Captain can’t be restrained from parties each night. He’s particularly fond of his charismatic new French friend and after promising to have a night off, last night Matey had to shoo the apparently reluctant Captain off to the irresistible Francois’ mega catamaran so he could get his daily fix and help dispatch a surviving bottle of plonk to the recycling bin. Rarely do you meet someone so talented in so many areas of life (two PhDs in unrelated fields, an extraordinary CV, speaker of several languages — with a delicious French accent, of course — PC and Mac meister, sailor extraordinaire, life of any party, charmer, and the list goes on. He radiates warmth and joie de vivre. Matey would die happy if she achieved half of what he has in his lifetime – but there is no chance of that. We bask in his glow and enjoy his company while we have it.

Today, to Matey’s delight, the replacement oar locks for the dinghy finally arrived, ending a frustrating few weeks during which the dingy motor had to be relied on for every trip ashore. The oar locks finally completely broke (fortunately when Captain was rowing so Matey could no longer be blamed for rowing too roughly). Meanwhile though Matey’s once-proud rowing muscles have disintegrated to flab.