Bounding Forth to Bundy
22:31.64S 166:17.89E
In the far distance we could see the slim tower of Amadee Lighthouse, for which we were heading as it marked the Boulari Passe and our safe passage between two reefs, Recif To and Recif Sournois. At the Maritime Museum I noted the lighthouse was built in Paris and dismantled into sections to be re-assembled in situ, guiding vessels to safety, ours included. A very elegant French building indeed and a gorgeous anchorage we would have loved to have spent time in, climbing the lighthouse and snorkelling the reef inside and outside the south lagoon.
The weather was total blue and the sea agreed that all was well in the 12 knot wind, but it didn’t last and we didn’t mind because as you know Zoonie likes a blow. Her mood rubs easily off on us so despite my unhappy tummy we were both happy as the wind rose gradually but determinedly to the top twenties.
Within 24 hours we had a wind of 26 knots gusting 28 and a delightful speed of over 7 knots. The day was bright and sunny but the night was cool and out came my leggings and NZ Warehouse black with gold polka dot slippers for the watch periods. We delighted in our zero carbon footprint and our zero chemical overboard regime. All our wash powders and liquids on board are now chemical free and only organic rubbish goes overboard. Our electric power came from the wind and sun and soon, with Greg’s Watt&Sea wave charger we will never need again to run the engine at sea purely to charge her batteries.
Zoonies whizzes along, tight as a well turned nut, working with the waves coming to her port stern quarter and 3 metre swell as an efficient machine and she continued to do so for four days as we crossed the Coral Sea over the New Caledonia Basin.
One night Rob saw a brilliant flash of light shining down onto the foredeck for about a second. It was too bright to see if there was anything above it being its source and it reminded me of the strange phenomenon of lights sometimes experienced by mariners, including our friend Neville de Villiers on Doumar when he was heading east from Sydney.
The following evening a feeding frenzy took place near us with birds above and dolphins underwater, working together for their supper. As soon as it finished some of the dolphins came to us for a visit. The sun was nearing the horizon and as I have done so many times before I could not miss recording the beautiful scene, after all no two sunsets are exactly the same. Imagine my surprise when, without my realising the dolphins were still with us I captured one in a sunset photo, leading us westwards to Aussie.
By this time the wind was weakening and it’s with a mixture of relief and regret that we adjusted her rig to suit our failing source of power. Around midnight the clatting of the genoa sheet in its block helped us make the decision to furl the sail safely away and start the engine. Rob set the auto pilot and disconnected Henry the self-steering gear and as a last check I went to make sure the wheel was unlocked and free to move.
The wheel usually has a little play in it when on auto steering but this time it went too far, in fact it went full lock without changing Zoonie’s heading. Something had broken or snapped. We dismantled the pedestal it is attached to and found the chain off the cog and the cable on the starboard side was loose.
So just before midnight, with his head torch on Rob handed me the entire contents of the lazarette which I laid along the side-deck. The steering quadrant was underneath a wooden hatch and as soon as Rob lifted the hatch we saw the splayed ends of the snapped cable showing us immediately the cause of the problem and the knowledge that the auto-pilot was working independent of the wheel and would now be one of the alternative means of steering, which also included the emergency tiller, Henry and his Hydrovane rudder and the bow thruster. The movement of the wheel is incidental to the functioning of the auto pilot but essential of course to the integrity of the steering cables.
Initially Rob thought that by connecting a continuous line attached to the end of the emergency tiller through blocks to the cockpit would enable us to fix the main rudder and leave the work to Henry but as there was now virtually no wind we would need to keep the engine on anyway and so might as well use the auto pilot and rig the steering ropes for when we needed to take over the steering.
It may sound strange but I felt the absolute security of being in a position almost three hundred miles from the coast and in 1986 metres of water; we could drift for as long as it took to get sorted out, which wasn’t long, but perhaps even more importantly we had time to mentally prepare and talk about our arrival procedure under the new circumstances.
Nearer to Bundy of course we would need to steer up the channel and into the marina, so how easy was it to steer with the ropes? In the light of a waxing moon we experimented and we both found it was no problem at all to steer Zoonie and even better, to know that the knot you can see in the pictures marked her rudder midship point. Because the tiller sits backwards over the rudder, then whichever side rope we pulled Zoonie would turn that way, unlike a tiller on a dinghy and that was a new experience for us.
As a precaution I notified Bundaberg Marina and John of the Go West Rally about our situation and asked if necessary could a tow be made available should the conditions require it.
Then we got on with the task of enjoying the rest of the crossing.
We worked out an ETA under different speeds and decided we should arrive during working hours in case we needed assistance. The remaining wind was in the right direction to fly the Diva but we needed her to give us a solo of at least 7 knots to meet our ETA which we know she can do in light airs. So first thing next morning up she went, filled her lungs but could only make 4.5 knots and thus went back to her seat on the foredeck after a very short aria. I didn’t even have time to take a photo. So it was back to Rupert the engine and the auto pilot.
The weather continued to be beautiful and we had two consecutive nights of rare perfect sunsets without a whisper of cloud anywhere near as the blazing sun sucked the light into its fiery furnace.
By now we were leaving the favourable easterlies riding along the top of a high into a wind vacuum, so we had to continue motoring which troubled me because of the carbon footprint effect, but at least we had sailed for well over half the distance. Small groups of false killer whales moved gently away behind us and more pods of dolphins appeared as we neared the coastal region.
Cleaning and food sorting ready for the Bio inspection was on the ‘to do’ list the next morning and was made so easy because of the calm conditions. This would be our last day out of sight of land in the Great Pacific; from after our arrival we would be coast hopping southwards to Tasmania for Christmas and sailing close to land with all its hazards is not as relaxing as the freedom of the deep ocean.
The wind piped up as we passed between the off lying islands of the Ladies Musgrave and Elliot and was back in the top teens and low twenties for our final course changes and blowing from the north across the Bundaberg river mouth while Zoonie slowly made her way in. As we passed the fairway post we smelled the unmistakeable smell of diesel and I hastily feared the engine might let us down as well.
Rob checked the tank pipe connections which were quite dry. Along with the other tensions of the moment I started to remember how, back in 2014 Zoonie’s engine had stopped (due to paint flakes in the old fuel tanks blocking the fuel pipe) as we approached a rocky coast in Spain in a brisk onshore wind. Zoonie’s sister ship, Nikita came out and gave us an alongside tow into the safety of Bayona harbour.
As I started to put the fenders out along Zoonie’s sides, there on the teak wood side deck was a small plastic yellow breather cap from one of her four 20 litre diesel tanks lashed to the starboard rail. Through the tiny hole some diesel vapour had escaped and alarmed further our already jittery nerves.
Pam in the marina office suggested we anchor for the night just by the marina as it was the Aussie celebration of the Queen’s Birthday (changed because of all the other public holidays in May) so our clearance would not be until the next day, and we thought at least that makes the initial stage easy. Rob went forward to get the anchor ready and Zoonie turned perfectly under first Rob’s guidance and then mine. Down went the hook and it behaved as normal with a good bite into the muddy bottom. All the tension of our arrival was dispelled so we celebrated and thought about the next stage which would be getting onto the Customs berth the next morning.
Much of the success of our safe arrival is down to the original design of the Oyster as a world girdler, which included the presence on board of the emergency tiller, an incredibly easy set up procedure and a system that worked. We can certainly trust it in the future.
How handy it would be, I thought if we could just up the anchor, do a little circle in the river and go straight into a really convenient available berth just behind us and not have to make two moves. Pam was thinking along those same lines the next morning when she allocated us Black 6, “I just wanted things to be as easy as possible for you,” she said with conviction.
An Abundance in Bundy
24:45.58S 152:23.29E
Aimee from Bio and Leah from Immigration descended upon us within a few minutes of our arrival and were quick and efficient as well as friendly. Aimee had a look around and through the galley cupboards and fridge and then apologised for her imminent departure home because she had a cold that was making her feel ragged. She would be back within the allowed fortnight to do the woodwork inspection.
Colin of Quin Rig advised his lads (son Jesse, trained at Spencers Rigging in Southampton and Cowes Isle of Wight and fellow employee Danny) would be coming up from Mooloolaba , (emphasis on the ‘loo’) to remove a mast on another vessel the following week and would do our steering cable job and a rig check at the same time.
So we were free to explore. The new Bundaberg Marina is sat alongside the Burnett River with good holding for anchoring on either side of the river on approach. The land was once sugar cane plantations (there are still a few to supply the local rum distillery) and I could picture a ‘Blackbirder’ in the offing as it prepared to anchor and disgorge the next load of stolen Vanuatans and New Caledonians to work in the fields back in the day.
The first marina was further up river at the side of the town of Bundaberg but a few years ago, in 2013 the Burnett River flooded with torrential rain from the vast inland catchment area and the marina was destroyed. We liked the close access to the open sea and didn’t mind taking the courtesy bus the 11 miles in to town at 9.30 in the morning to catch a regular bus back when we were ready.
The town has lots of attractive architecture, colonial and art deco and the harsh and faceless shapes of modernism are in the minority. Unlike Noumea it was not at all hard to find pretty buildings to show you. We were dropped off at the bus stop so we would know where to catch the one back, and went straight to the Telstra shop to buy a sim card and some data over a six month plan and use Rob’s phone as a hotspot. Then we crossed the road and had a coffee and next door found a hairdresser where the young lass was able to give me a trim straightaway. She’s off to New York soon with her boyfriend.
Then we wandered along the main Bourbong Street and bought a few things noticing how well stocked are the shops. This clearly is a main town for residents from a big area of ‘country’. Coles Supermarket, we previously used while staying at the Youth Hostel in Canberra, allowed me to tick off the food shopping list and then a little culture was called for in the Art Gallery where year 11 pupils from numerous local schools had contributed work to an exhibition which showed what talent was out there being encouraged in the next generation. I thought you might like the Osprey nest by an adult artist who knitted the birds.
A regular marina courtesy bus service ran, surprisingly, on each Sunday to the Shalom open market in the grounds of a private school, where local farmers bring their wonderful fresh fruit and vegetables. The time table and itinerary for this trip really depends on the driver and ours was Paul who had his priorities exactly right! We shortened the market trip and pulled up infront of Dan Murphy’s the biggest ‘off licence’ you can imagine, and there is a chain of them! Paul stood beside a line on the outside wall of this massive building and raising his arm above his head, “That’s the line of the 2013 flood,” ooooh I thought. We needed two boxes for our purchases!
Then it was onwards to a delightful setting not far from the town centre but slightly downstream next to the Burnett River and amidst lots of shady trees, the modern fish market with attached waterside restaurant, which would be a favourite of mine if we lived there.
Friday evening was cruisers Sundowners in the little open fronted bar, The Captain’s Cove and we were expecting a BBQ but didn’t know the form. A few of us sat around and chatted while a wedding reception went on next door (the couple had entwined their futures in the open air under threatening skies) and thunder and sheet lightning surrounded us with ominous vengeance but not a drop of rain fell on the drought stricken and parched land.
Our new friends Marge and Matthew on ‘Reality’ enquired in the office the next morning and were told the meat was in the fridge and the occasion a DIY effort.
We went on board Susie and Nick’s lovely motor cruiser Water Music II that evening and during the nice chat we were briefed about the Great Sandy Strait to which were heading next between Fraser Island and the mainland. Alison and Randall recommended a day tour there as the best way to see and learn about the island in a short period of time.
Our mid-crossing emergency of the broken steering cable had caused some concern to John who, with his wife Leanne runs the Down Under Rally, so I kept in touch to reassure him from the moment we knew it had happened until we left Bundy, a period of about two weeks. Pity is we never met them to thank them in person for their support, they do a good job of looking after us cruisers.
Hanging over our heads all this time was Aimee’s return to do the woodwork inspection. Was there something we had missed? Were there some little borers somewhere who would drop us into the drain of financial expense? When would she call?
Our time in port gave me the opportunity to catch up on my book writing and I sent a few more chapters to Erling for his perusal, that’s after Rob had read them first. So it was all productivity!
The new dipstick for the gearbox arrived and the young engineer said he often replaced them (£65 for a dip stick!) and couldn’t understand why they aren’t made of metal all through as they used to be instead of having a plastic pull part, I quite agree. Money I think.
Finger nails down to the quick (J) as Aimee and her friend/colleague Rebecca arrived full of vigour and emitted an air of thoroughness that was just plain worrying. Aimee, armed with torch set off opening cupboards while Rebecca did the paper work.
On our knees infront of the canned food store I held up my big jar of home-made lemon curd, “What’s that?” Aimee enquired innocuously of the layer of clear gold liquid at the bottom of the jar. “I’ve no idea,” I replied, “but I bet it’s delicious.” We both laughed. All was well and Zoonie passed muster with flying colours and the relief, after all the alarming stories, was enormous.
Three days later Jesse and Danny arrived with the shiny new steering cable. Our thoughts of using the old cable as a mouse to pull the new cable through did not work as the conduit it had to pass through was big enough only for one width of cable, so we hoped it could just be pushed through. Well that worked fine and Rob later greased the new cable through the grease nipples and all was good. For all we knew the old steering cable was the original and the manual suggests regular maintenance and replacement every two to five years. So Zoonie just turning thirty years old raises a few eyebrows as far as her steering cables are concerned.
It was an interesting exercise if for no other reason than the remedy at sea was not difficult. The emergency tiller is stored on an elevated shelf in the lazarette so is always accessible and rigging it couldn’t be more straightforward. We were just lucky with the sea state and weather at the time. We feel we have benefitted from the experience should we ever need it again and can advise others if they are in a similar strait.
It was blowing a hoolie as Jesse hauled brave Danny aloft for the rigging check. All was well at the top of the mast. They cannot help with a new Windex as they are not available in Aussie so we will bring one back with us from the UK next time. It was the shorter inner stays that go from side-decks and fore-deck to the first spreaders (renewed in UK July 2015 before we left) that were found to have been over tightened at some stage and had started to spring their strands. You can see daylight between the loose strand on the babystay on the foredeck and the core. They could not replace the rigging at the time so we agreed to have them back on board when in their neck of the woods at Mooloolaba.
We were ready to go and with the office staff gearing up for the arrival of thirty odd boats in the Rally, our departure was not before time but we had just one more call. Marge and Matt had been to Dan Murphy’s and found some summer fruits wine that they needed help in the drinking of, and that along with Marge’s yummy sourdough bread and cheddar slices helped in saying our farewells.
They were there for us the next morning at 5.45am to hand us our lines; of such stuff are cruising friends made.