Position: 37 50.54 5 S 144 55.11 E
At anchor, Hobsons Bay, Port Phillip
Wind: N, F2 – slight breeze
Sea: calm Swell: nil
Weather: overcast
Day’s run: 88 nm

As expected, it has been a long night.

We continued to make steady progress towards Port Phillip Heads during the afternoon, making good an average of four and half knots which we needed in order to arrive off the Heads by 2340 for slack water. However, late in the afternoon the winds fell light and fickle. I flashed up the BRM on occasions to maintain our speed of advance but at 2100, as we rounded Cape Schanck with only thirty miles to go, we were falling well behind the curve and I had pretty much resigned myself to spending the night hove to outside the Heads waiting for the next slack water at 0553 (not 0120 as I wrote in yesterday’s entry).

While motoring past Cape Schanck I met another yacht heading in the opposite direction. She was showing her sailing lights but as there was no wind I figured that she must be motoring so I altered course to starboard so as to pass port to port, as per the Rules. As we got closer she seemed to be following me. I altered further to starboard, almost running away from her. The thought occurred to me that she might be someone I knew and that she wanted to say hello, but that seemed very unlikely, especially as the conditions were not exactly the sort that one would want to go out in just for a pleasure sail, nor at the time of night. We managed to stay clear of one another and after we had both returned to our respective headings, now away from one another, I called her* up on VHF to sort out what had happened. I really was wondering whether it was someone I knew and I did not want to be rude; however, a short conversation clarified that the skipper of the other boat did not seem to know the rules very well. He thought I was following him! I asked him whether he was motoring (knowing that he had to have been), which he confirmed. I politely pointed out that in that case in a head on situation the correct thing for him to have done was to alter course to starboard, not to port towards me. (I did not mention that he was also displaying the wrong navigation lights or that if he was in fact under sail then as the “stand-on” vessel the Rules required him to maintain his course and speed so that the give-way vessel, ie me, could get out of his way.) After our courteous call, I wished him a pleasant voyage and said farewell.

A short rant follows:

I get very annoyed that many yachts, if not the majority these days, do not conform to the Rules with respect to lights. It would seem many do not have a masthead steaming light to switch on when they are motoring, or if they do they do not know where the switch is (and I am continually amazed at the amount of time most yachts spend under power rather than sailing). The other annoying habit many small sailing vessels seem to be in is in switching on their masthead tri-lights AND their lower side lights and stern light at the same time, which is against the Rules. The vessel ends up showing two vertical green lights, two vertical red lights or two vertical white lights depending on what aspect another vessel is viewing them from, which respectively means certain specific things other than a vessel under sail. For example, two red lights in a vertical line means a vessel is not under command, a critical and potentially confusing difference from a sailing vessel that just wants to be seen more clearly. I could go on, but I will refrain from adding to my grumpy old man status. Maybe a letter to the “Afloat” magazine is in order.

End of rant.

Having disentangled ourselves from each other, Sylph continued motoring in the calm conditions. I had a single reef in the main and the jib furled so as to be prepared for the front when it came through, which duly arrived some ten minutes after I got off the radio to my fellow sailor. The initial gust accelerated Sylph up to six knots. Hooray, I shouted, for if we maintained six knots we would comfortably make the Heads in time for slack water at 2340. A half hour later the wind had steadied, I had unrolled the jib, shaken the reef out of the mainsail, and Sylph was bowling along at a steady six knots, and I was growing ever more confident that we were going to make the Heads for the next slack water.

Sure enough at 2300 we were approaching the Heads. Conditions were good. The sea was smooth though the wind was fluctuating. I had to resort to the BRM again to maintain our speed. (And further to my rant above we had another two sailing vessels behind us, both of whom at various stages of overtaking me were displaying the wrong lights – I could hear the motor of one of them as she passed us.)

Once past the Rip and inside the shelter of the bay, I persisted in sailing for a while but as we entered the Western Channel the tide had turned against us and the wind had softened such that we were only making good about one knot over the ground. At that rate I was going to fall asleep and run aground or into a pile well before we got halfway through the Channel. I flashed up the motor (switching to the appropriate lights of course) and we motor-sailed until 0212 when we passed the West Channel Pile marking the Northern entrance to the channel. I shut down the engine in the hope of being able to sail and to have a nap while we continued towards Melbourne. However, now what little wind there was abandoned us, and it started to rain. We were clear of any dangers and I was just too tired to continue motoring, so I set the ‘Watch Commander’ timer for 27 minutes (it only works in three minute increments out to a maximum of 27 minutes), and let Sylph drift while I allowed myself to get some much needed sleep.

We continued thus, slowly drifting North, until 0625 when a breeze filled in from the West. The rain had stopped and we sailed the rest of the way across Port Phillip to Hobsons Bay off Princess Pier, where, at 0807 we rounded into the fading breeze, handed sail, and let go the anchor in five meters of water.

Needless to say, after a quick tidy up, I fell into my bunk for a good long uninterrupted sleep.

All is well.

* I won’t mention the vessel’s name as my object here is not to embarrass anyone, merely to make a plea to my fellow sailors to read and follow the Rules, particularly with respect to the display of navigation lights.