To Wide Bar Bay
Fleck
Fri 27 Nov 2009 02:56
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27th November 2009
Norman point, Tin Can Inlet, Great Sandy Strait.
25:54.6S 153:01.7E
Goodness, my memory! Can't seem to remember how I
got here, so will gather my thoughts over a cup of the magic vanilla latte, and
perhaps catch up with events in the 'Australian' as I do so. What a life, but
somebody has to use these waterways?
Well now, down to work. Back in Mooloolaba I
calculated, creatively perhaps, that there was time ashore on Wednesday morning
to dump rubbish, and for a visit to Coles for fresh food, and to the
seafront for coffee and a breakfast cake. No, there is no such thing as
breakfast cake, but almond croissants don't seem to have migrated any further
north than Brisbane. Cake is cake, whenever you have it, but if it is carrot
cake, and if it comes with ice cream, it tastes just as good for breakfast as it
would for any other meal. Charlie understands my eating plan. I indulge in
exactly what I like, plus five a day. The plentiful supply of mangos certainly
helps with the five a day, and my veggie curries and stir fries generally do the
rest. I have really enjoyed Mark's canned tomato and curry paste jobs, and the
boat doesn't stink of curry for days afterwards if you don't fry your own paste.
Oh, rubbish: Australia provides bins everywhere, one for rubbish, and another
for recycling. It seems that they are able/willing to provide public
services on a scale that is unimaginable in the UK. On a boat you are acutely
aware of the packaging problem, and indeed of the worldwide problem af garbage
management. Never mind, it seems that Copenhagen is going to be the usual
disaster, so why worry about garbage? In future we can just dump it in the
equatorial countries as, in turn, they become uninhabitable.
Anyway the anchor came up, with bucketfuls of black
mud, at 10.50 hrs, 25th November, and we set off for The Great Sandy Strait, via
Wolf Rock, Double Island Point, in all about 65 miles to the north. I
labelled that GPS Waypoint 'Wolf Hall' such has been the impact of Hilary
Mantel's novel on my little life. A good sail apart from some early seasickness,
as again the close fetch seemed to bring out a particularly stomach
churning twist and lurch effect from the seas and shallow water. So no
cooking, and an excuse for Hart sandwiches (cheese, pickle and apple) once more.
Progress was so good that we were soon ahead of the clock, and therefore of
the tide gate on the Wide Bay Bar, to slow down I had to pull down all the
reefs: which made the boat even more rolly. After dark I retreated to my bunk
and the kitchen timer, but later the wind also died down and with
that the seas quietened as well. Then the moon came out and for an hour it
was very pleasant indeed. Finally the wind died completely but by then it was
time to motor in. All the leading lights lined up nicely, and with the calm
night sea, no dramas as we carried the flood tide quickly through the 'Mad
Mile' (Charlie and Mark will remember that bit: their introduction to
waves!). Just as well, as by then the moon had set, the skies had clouded over,
and it was unusually dark. I could hear, but not see, the breaking waves over
South Spit, a cable or so to windward. It was difficult to locate a good
anchorage inside Pelican Bay, as there were shelving sand banks and a number of
other anchored boats, so I anchored off, a bit in the fairway, but
hopefully not in the path of the Fraser Island car ferries. By then it was
03.30: high time for bed.
Yesterday the wind was still good to make a return
visit down to Tin Can Inlet: I was hoping to catch a bus from there to
Maryborough, an interesting old town about twenty miles inland. Unfortunately
the bus now only goes to Gimpie, population 10,000, and nothing to see or do, so
I will stay here. We came before to see the dolphins being fed, so I don't
need to get up early to do that again. I have however now found the Shopping
Centre which is more than adequate with an IGA supermarket, and a fresh fish
shop, I also revisited the pub that we all went to and where Mark was
so interested in the barmaid. He will be pleased to hear that she is well, and
that she has not changed her attire in any way that I could, after cafeful
inspection, discern. I offer this last comment with some caution, having just
read 'If one of us is missing or dead' and recognised chunks of myself in the
various male characters held up for scorn, ridicule and presumably worse (it is
in the feminist style) in this rather badly written story of
abuse!
I have booked my hurricane season
berth on the hardstand in Bundaberg, and it is now largely a question of
retracing my steps through Sandy Dtrait and Hervey Bay. I hope to be in
Bundaberg by the middle of next week. There are many jobs to be done as I
pack up to go home, so maybe not many more blogs!
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