The Dual-Denial Watch System - Island Head Creek, Queensland, Australia
Harmonie
Don and Anne Myers
Fri 7 May 2010 22:26
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22:22.207S 150:38.733E
On May 1st, just enough wind
arrived for us to sail 10 hours and 65 miles northwest from Great
Keppel Island to a narrow, shallow inlet on the mainland called Island Head
Creek. Storyteller was inside waiting for us when we approached
the inlet at nearly low tide in the late afternoon. Once
again the chart wasn't accurate and we had to navigate through the entrance
the old fashioned way. This time there were two choices: the southern
route, which required precise navigation through shallow water between
two completely invisible and unmarked sand banks; or the northern route,
which required precise navigation through deeper water between one completely
invisible and unmarked sand bank and three sets of jagged rocks that looked
particularly black and menacing given the state of the tide. Based on
advice from Storyteller, we went for the jagged rock route and spent twenty
minutes motoring at a slow 3 knots, curving our way around rocks
we could almost reach out and touch. Throughout the ordeal, we employed
the dual-denial watch system. This is our own patented method which
involves watching where we are going as closely as possible while simultaneously
trying not to look where we are headed. It's completely illogical,
but extremely effective. In case you are wondering how exactly this
process works, picture yourself watching an incredibly bloody scene in a
scary movie - you first claim you won't watch it, then you claim you
aren't watching it and throw your hands up in front of your face to
prove it, but in the end you find that every gory detail of the
scene has been imprinted on your brain through the loose weave of your
fingers - hence the dual-denial watch system. While it's true that we
don't actually throw our hands up in front of our faces when navigating through
passes that involve rocks and hard places, we do try not to look as we stare
intently ahead.
After clearing the rocks and with 1 1/2 meters of
water below the keel to spare as we floated over the tail end of the sand
bank, we motored further into the calm water of the inlet
and joined Storyteller in the anchorage with several other Australian
boats.
The wind was predicted to increase to uncomfortable
levels the next day, so we decided to sit that potential sailing
day out and stay put for an extra night. Sitting in Island Head Creek
for two days was pleasant enough, but there was no where to go and not much to
look at. This area is another one of those vast and shallow sand and mud
flats with a huge tidal range at ~12 feet. So huge that half the time
we were floating in a murky water puddle 3 meters deep with a massive sand bank
high and dry right in front of us. The other half of the time it felt like
we were anchored in the middle of a shallow lake with 7 meters of water
below us and the shoreline barely discernable in the distance. The tides
in this area rival those of Maine and are the largest on the east coast of
Australia. They are not as impressive as those we will be in for when
we get to Darwin though. There, with a 20 foot tidal range, we'll have to
enter the marina we've booked for most of the month of July through a
lock. Should be interesting...
Picture 1 - Although the Indian Head Creek
anchorage wasn't all that much to look at, the coastline leading up to the inlet
was really pretty with lots of rocky islands like these sticking up here and
there showing off their red highlights. The ocean around here is an
opaque light shade of jade with none of that deep, clear sapphire blue
we know and love so well. It must be the shallow depths (we've sailed in
nothing over 40 meters all the way up the coast from Brisbane) and
freshwater runoff through the mud flats that makes the
water that comparatively dull green. Soon we'll be in
Australia's version of a tropical island paradise where clear blue water should
be waiting for us.
Anne
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