Looks (atm) as if we’ll have beam and then tail winds if we start mid-day on Saturday… Glad I’m not in Fiji/New Caledonia/Qld… Thanks to GRIB.US for the free service.
Crossing the bar
One last challenge remained as I made my way to St Helens yesterday: the Georges Bay barway. Early morning I contacted Tamar Sea Rescue and asked about the state of the bar. If it was expected to be impassable I wanted the option to still divert to Flinders Island
They called up St Helens who advised that they would not give instructions but would send a rescue boat out to lead me across the bar.
St Helens / Georges Bay Bar
I felt fairly comfortable as the day progressed, having done several bar crossings in the last couple of years, some in breaking surf. My apprehension grew, however, as the day wore on. By 1500 it was blowing 25 knots from the north-east again, directly onto the bar, and I was dog tired. The Marine Rescue also indicated that they would inspect the bar and only take me through if the conditions were safe. The likelihood of safe conditions was reducing with the rising wind and I couldn’t bear the thought of another 10 hours sailing, in the dark, to get to the anchorage at Wineglass Bay.
The Marine Resque RIB arrived within minutes of my arrival in Georges Bay and they weren’t happy: the tide was late (still rising) and the bar was breaking in a mass of white water.
We agreed that I would cross at my own risk. By that stage I had doused all the sails, had my lifejacket on and had the boat closed up in case we got swamped by the surf or thrown on our beam ends.
As we went for the bar I suddenly felt a lot of vibration, and realized I’d picked up some kelp on the prop. I stopped the engine, put her in reverse to fold the prop, and restarted. Gunning her in reverse I felt the familiar smooth running and knew the kelp had been cleared. Then it was full throttle behind the rescue boat. Crossing the breaking surf was relatively easy – I only surfed down one breaking wave and then we were in the calm water of the river. What a relief. I then ‘bumped’ my way past Pelican Point in slightly less than 6ft of water, closely following the rescue boat.
The Marine Rescue organisations are entirely self funded institutions, operated by volunteers . Chatting with Ian Hollingsworth at the base later I was amazed to learn that they help around 100 boats annually that get into all sorts of trouble (2 to 3 times a week), sometimes towing boats in from over a 100 miles away. Needless to say I was only too happy to make a donation to help them continue the great work.
Across the ditch on my own
Safe but exhausted in St Helen’s, Tasmania, tonight… I motored in dead calm all day on Thursday. There was still a good 3 metre south-easterly swell with a long period – a bit like driving over long rolling hills – but basically it was pretty boring. My main concern was running out of diesel!
Calm Seas in Bass Strait
Then, half an hour before sunset, someone turned on 20 knots of nor-easter. Having been caught out with over-enthusiasm at sunset before, I decided to reef the main immediately – a decision I was very grateful for as the night wore on.
After a long night, with Sunny Spells constantly surfing in a big cross sea (1.5m sea kicked up by the breeze on top of a 2.5m south-easterly swell) dawn found me 30 miles east of Flinders Island. The pain was not over yet as the wind was shifting to the west and I had to gybe unless I wanted to go on to Antarctica…
The gybe was not too bad – the main had two tucks in and I just waited for a break in the breeze. The poled-out headsail was a pain, so I rolled it away first. Once the main was gybed and set out to starboard I first re-run the preventer to keep the boom in check and then re-set the pole to port. Then I had to re-run the headsail sheets as the working sheet had to be led through the lifelines to avoid chafe. Once the pole was set again, I rolled out about 75% of the headsail.
To the foredeck and back three times on a bucking, rolling boat while trying to not get the tether/jacklines tangled with the sheets, kicker, brace, preventer all snaking across the decks…
Through all of this I was kept company by hundreds of albatross, soaring and swooping over the churned-up sea.
Albatross over Bass Strait
The breeze soon died and left me with no power and a confused sea state. The engine came on and I motored for St Helens.
Change of Mind
I got up this morning at 6, intending to sail north at least as far as Narooma, slowly making my way back to Sydney, having given up on the idea of sailing to Hobart. It just seemed like a lot of hard work and then there was still a return passage that would have to follow.
As I left Twofold Bay I listened to the weather forecast on the VHF and asked myself why I was sailing north when I had three days of nor-easters to come that would get me to Tassie so easily… I turned south, felt the sting of the southerly… and turned north. Another ten minutes went by before I turned south again, this time for good! I called up the Marine Rescue at Eden and explained that I had a change of heart and was now heading south!
Bass Strait: Gabo Island to St Helens
As I entered Bass Strait I realised that a long night of motoring into a 3-4m swell and a 10 knot southerly could be avoided by going into the lee of Gabo Island and waiting ’till the next morning.
Anchored in the lee of Gabo Island
What a great move! It’s a bit rolly but, to be fair, I’ve anchored in worse places, and the scenery unbelievable. It is truly a little remote wilderness, complete with penguins on the rocks and not a soul in sight.
I’ve used the time here (I arrived at around 3pm) to check the engine (oil and coolant etc) and top off the diesel from the jerry cans. A lovely dinner and hot shower (with 1.4 litres of water from my fabric softener bottle with holes in the cap) followed and now I’m off to bed. Tomorrow is going to be a long day…
Sunset over Victoria from the lee of Gabo Island