Beez Neez now Chy Whella

To Tangalooma

Big Bear and Pepe Millard

Sun 1 May 2016 22:57

To Tangalooma

Todays route from the amongst the elderly ladies of Rudy Maas to anchor off the tourist destination of Tangalooma Resort, Moreton Island, just shy of thirty eight miles away. The map on the left is taken before the detail appears seconds later on the chartplotter.

We set off at half past nine on low tide to get the benefit of a rising tide on the shallow bits later on. The finest rain – the stuff that gets you soaked made our vista very grey. Really chuffed to see the Wise Owl was back from his holidays in Yamba and was about his guardian duties.

A very busy houseboat.

A comfy little cruiser.

Sheriff and his deputy – resplendent on orange lookout, the faithful underlings of the Wise Owl, keeping watch.

Local enforcement officers.

The days comedy number one. Just before I took this picture of a fit body cast fishing, Bear had had to manoeuvre very close to a boat ramp. With only 0.3 of a metre below us, we had very little wiggle room. A chap had just reversed his boat trailer at speed and we felt Beez withers wiggle. On our right a chap was sitting, wrapped up like a winters present intently looking for his mate to reverse his empty trailer down said boat ramp. I had a thought that he hadn’t seen us and at any minute he would power forward and poleaxe us. As you all know, dear readers, a cardinal rule aboard is, If You Think It Do It, I called out “Hello” and said man looked up and slightly to his left, saw Beez and nearly fell off his seat in shock. The gap we had between the trailers and the chap in his boat – well, we could see everyone’s eyebrows in perfect detail. Fancy saying to our insurers that our first accident had happened in depths best suited to a reasonable sized paddling pool.............on we went.

A real beauty of a One Careful Owner and lived aboard as we saw the chap footerin’ about, the pecalin was waiting patiently in the high hopes.........

I then had a brainwave........ Steady on gal, have you been at the Phyllosan again..........

Huh.. Next step you know is Sanatogen Tonic Wine, then its all downhill from there..........yes, but at least I’m nowhere near the bottom as I have no thoughts of Buckfast and meths combo (the drink of choice of many a unfortunate and sad street person), anyway, shush......

..........I stripped my anorak, went and got my bendy cutting board and used it as an umbrella for Bear’s IPad – he likes to use it whereas I like the chartplotter, but each to his own. Umbrella – ker-ching.......Off came the dripping anorak again, back downstairs and said Caribbean beauty was put to the task. Heavens knows what we looked like but terribly English. Who else would be out in the now pouring rain, umbrella aloft, normally, oh, do use another word you know how ‘normal’ sticks in the craw of life aboard Beez, what is it with you this morning, I may have to slap you..........as I was trying to explain, USUALLY, better, we would be miles out at sea and have the conservatory up, but in ‘close to others’ and ‘shallow stuff’ we have to rely just on the pram hood, no good at all when I’m stood up on the bench looking out for green and red markers as Bear stares at the depth......... I need a stiff drink after all that..... and I was only telling our readers what was best expressed in a sentence or two. You love me really. Don’t push yer luck matey, its your bloody IPad and wonky red/green vis after all........Oooooooooo. I may have to beat you at backgammon. Have you ever seen an umbrella handle used as a downward weapon. Bear has, quiet Bear quiet.

Onward. Next comedy moment. Despite the heavy rain, tiny drops were blown all over the place and at one point Bear asked me to wipe his glasses. Where the small raindrops had stopped his reactolite from reacting, once wiped he still had the same to look through – leopard spot spectacle lenses.

Next pair of excitements. A gentle meander left (as per Rod and Brenda’s instructions) toward the pylon, missing the boys all out fishing and looking so intently at their floats that Beez often gave them a start as she minced by to go under the less saggy bit of the wires, then going through what looks like a narrow chicane but in reality we are in miles of width. Are you sure around the next bend isn’t going to be Charleston.......... Spooky isn’t it.

We waited quietly for a passenger ferry to come from the right and the car ferry to pass from the left then entered the well-marked chicane.

Finally, we are in deep water, well at least four metres below, luxury.

As we crossed Moreton Bay the sun was really, really trying by four it was quite warm.

You know when you’re in a main shipping channel when the reds go ‘big girl size’. Massive sand dunes along the shore and the start of the anchored yachts.