Back on the Nyinggulu Coast
We made our way cautiously out of the channel at Carnarvon in the pre-dawn light, threading our way through the navigation markers and out into the area known as the Gascoyne Flats. Once clear of the channel, we turned into wind and raised our mainsail before setting our course to the NW, heading to Point Quobba.
With a stiff SE on our tail, we were making good progress. We always find this little bit of passage a bit frustrating, as the wind always seems to be dead downwind, meaning it is difficult to get a decent angle on the sails. Too gusty for the spinnaker, which is our downwind weapon, and too tight an angle for the screecher (Code 0), so we always feel we could be doing better along this little stretch. However, once we hit Quobba, we turned north and this helped.
As we passed Point Quobba, we took a moment to reflect on the recent passing of Mr Mick, Eugene Mickle, someone who has had an influence on our lives and a larger-than-life figure. Mr Mick was a true gentleman, a great waterman, and a guy with a passion for living life to the fullest with his amazing wife, Lorna, and of course his tribe of kids and grandkids. We sent Lorna a message as we were passing the Blowholes, a spot where Mick and Lorna had camped for many, many winters and upon receipt, she said that the message gave her goosebumps and that the Blowholes were some of their happiest days.
We were running a couple of lures and, so far, all that was happening was weed catching, which is a bit of a curse up this coast. Speed was also a factor in the choice of lures, and, as we were going quite well, we had a couple of skirts out; a skirt being a squid replica which doesn’t seem to catch the weed, but also needs speed to be effective.
As we passed Cuvier, the wind had died off so, with mainsail still up, we continued to have one engine running, so we changed the lures over, putting out Pete’s trusty Halco gold bomber lure. The southerly started to push in, so we turned the engine off and were sailing along when we had a hit which led to all sorts of comical scenes. We were now sailing up in the seven knot range and have about two hundred yards of line out, with a decent suspected Spanish mackeral on the end of it. At some points, we were literally surfing the fish on the surface before it went under and we lost more line. This went on for about half an hour. The forearms were screaming out at this stage, so we decided the only way to make any progress was to turn into wind and heave to, and then try to retrieve the fish. After preparing the mainsail (centring the traveller & boom lines and adjusting the preventor), we turned 180 degrees into wind, which of course means the fishing line is running backwards up across the front of the boat, past the screecher and then out into the water. Pete barks instructions to Nicky to grab the rod and run to the front to try and stop the line getting snagged and broken. All this, whilst continuing to wind furiously to ensure tension is kept on the line so that, after all our efforts, we don’t lose the fish!
For a brief moment, we think we have lost the fish, but then it appears close to the boat. With Nicky still madly winding in, we get him alongside and Pete quickly hooks it with the gaff; probably an eight to ten kilo Spaniard!! No time to gloat, however, as we need to turn around and get the boat back on course. So, after unhooking the fish, we fasten a rope around its tail, secure it to the cleat, and leave it lying on the back step. We turn the boat back 180 degrees – did we mention we now have 20 knots of wind! – and we reset our course for Red Bluff with about five nm to go. Too dangerous to try and fillet the fish in these conditions, so it can wait until we get to anchor. We are chuffed. We love Spanish mack and can see a dozen or more meals in front of us!
Before long, we sail around the corner into Red Bluff, anchor up and then Pete set’s about filleting whilst Nic prepares the vacuum sealer and bags for freezing. Nice teamwork and our day is done! Time for a quiet drink up on the front deck, admiring the view of Red Bluff – a place we really love visiting.
The forecast is for a brisk, early SE with a prediction of calm by about 11am, so, with that in mind, it is a 4am rise to get underway. A bit of a pity, but we sail past the Gnaraloo coast in the dark, before the early morning light slowly lights up the horizon as we near Cape Farquhar. As predicted, the wind gradually died away as the morning moved towards midday.
Sunny, glassy conditions, blue ocean, blue skies and one of our favourite destinations, Warroora, was close by. We were soon gliding in through the channel before turning southward and up to our usual anchorage spot, just south of the land camps.
The weather was unseasonally warm, especially the water temp and onshore the flies were ferocious! There was no escape from the bugs, as, back on the boat, we were overrun with moths who just seemed to be getting in everywhere! Luckily, after a damper than usual 2nd night, the moths seemed to miraculously disappear overnight, and the flies decided to remain on land; continuing to annoy the campers, but keeping well away from us on the boat. They left us to our perfect Warroora routine of daily surf fixes, diving, and exploring (in the dingy this time, and not so much on the beach due to the pesky flies) around the reef.
The next five days are classic Warroora – small, clean and fun waves with a friendly surf crew; reacquainting ourselves with some of the Sandy Point regulars including Seamus, Fran & Yogi, and Mick, and magical sunsets to celebrate the end to another fab day…
Having not seen rain for about seven or eight months – so long, we couldn’t remember when! – we were a little excited when some squally weather appeared and we copped about 20mm. Not so much fun for the campers, but as cruising yachties any chance of a proper wash of the boat is appreciated. By a proper wash, we mean from the top of the mast down – the places we can’t reach with the hose and where the salt builds up and comes down in the form of black dust!
With an eye on the weather, which indicated some approaching sustained periods of strong north easterlies, we grabbed an early surf and then prepared the boat for an inside run up the reef to Coral Bay. It is only about 8 miles along the inside of the reef to the Coral Bay boat ramp. A stunning passage with plenty of wildlife to spot along the way (no whales this year). It’s then a bit of weaving through the maze of coral for another 4 or 5 miles as we pass through the Coral Bay channel and across to the moorings at Mauds Landing.
We arrived about 2pm and decided we had enough time to do a quick dash into town to grab a few essentials – milk, bread and more cask wine! After a long trudge through the sand dunes (you can’t take your dinghy into the main beach area), we arrive in ‘town,’ aka the shops. A quick bakery snack which is always way too hard to resist, and then we grabbed a few things from the shop before setting off on the long walk back to the dinghy. All up, a couple of hours of trudging back and forth over rocks, through sand dunes, and around reef in Bob, before arriving back to Singularity. Task completed!
After a quiet night, it was another dawn departure. We sailed downwind towards Port Cloates, from where we turned the corner and headed up past Lefroy and towards Yardie Creek. We hadn’t really decided on our destination at this stage, but we knew we wanted to make a few miles. Based on the forecast, we wanted to be at Serrurier Island by Friday so that we could tuck in and shelter from the easterlies. Having been to Serrurier before, we knew it was a great spot where we could hang in comfort, with plenty of good diving, squidding and exploring to keep us occupied.
We made the most of the light winds as we sailed closer to Norweigan Bay by having our spinnaker, Shrek, flying high and doing all the work. So nice to enjoy the silence of sailing as opposed to the constant hum of the engines. All was going well when, suddenly, the quick release clevis pin that attaches the top of the spinnaker to the halyard (which is now up near the top of the mast), releases and sends shrek over the side and into the water. We moved like lightning and were quickly able to retrieve it, lucky that we weren’t going too fast, and that we were able to secure Shrek before he disappeared under the keel and around the sail drives etc… With Shrek back on board, we got to sorting out the soggy mess before getting back underway, albeit this time with engines running.
Once clear of the sanctuary zone, at the entrance to Norwegian Bay, we went put out two lines; one with the trusty old gold bomber lure, the other with a coral trout imitator lure, in search of a fish for dinner. Literally, within three minutes we had a double strike – Pete went for one rod and started winding, but the fish got away after only a minute. Nicky managed to grab the other rod and, after some strenuous pumping, we had a lovely Yellowfin tuna on board – a real treat as they are lovely eating. Back for some more filleting and more vacuum bagging. Not as easy or convenient as popping down to the shop for dinner, but way more fun, and definitely more rewarding!
We continued on to Yardie Creek, taking anchor just south of the entry channel which was a new location for us. It had been a big day with more than 52nm on the log, but we still had an important job to do before we could relax and enjoy the sunset.
After making sure everything was prepped, checked and double checked, Nicky was winched up the mast in the bosun’s chair to retrieve the spinnaker halyard, which was simply a case of grabbing it and pulling it back down to the deck. After a few snaps with the Go-Pro to take in the view, she was safely back on the deck and the spinnaker halyard is re-secured. When trying to determine why the Spinnaker ended up in the drink, we’ve worked out that a small tail rope that had been attached to the quick release to make it easier to open (we thought it was a good idea at the time), got snagged in the halyard enough for it to pull the release and open. The shackle is under quite a bit of pressure with a full spinnaker open and flying, so, in hindsight, it’s not such a surprise. Another lesson learnt!
It was a case of rinse and repeat the next morning, sailing out of the channel at dawn and into a nice SE which gave us a quick and smooth downwind sail to Tantabiddi. Turning east past Tantabiddi, we made the run towards North West Cape. The wind died off, but we had made good time, so we made the call to continue the extra 40 odd nm to Serrurier Island, with an eta on sunset.
We steamed past the Murion Islands in a completely windless and glassy ocean – which seems to be a bit of a common theme this year. It was still too early in the season, so no whales were sighted, a contrast to our travels up through this passage last season where they were absolutely everywhere.
We took a moment to enjoy the glassy sunset (we often have to remind ourselves not to take these for granted) and then took advantage of the hot water generated from the running engines, to have a quick shower on the back step. With just enough light from the setting sun, we arrived and anchored at Serrurier Island, about 200 metres off the beach. A couple of consecutive, long days of travelling, but we knew if the forecast was correct, we would be glad to be nicely tucked up behind Serrurier, rather than around the Cape somewhere.
