Message in a Bottle - Missing in Action May 2006

Stop the Press


There’s Magic in the Air
It’s been more than 12 months since our last confession. The tides have turned; the winds have changed; Ganghook and the Buxom Wench have been drifting in the Pacific Triangle. (That’s the Aussie version of the Bermuda Triangle or LOST IN SPACE.)
Many miles have we roamed by Sail, flipper, bike wheel and foot. Only to discover we still call Freo our home. Now cast your minds back …..Yes an awful long way; back to the taste of Tassie, where the snow falls in December and Scallop Pies are second to none. In the last missive (yes it was June 2005) we left Ganghook and the Wench at the RYCT enjoying the good company and hospitality of the locals while undertaking some much needed maintenance on Magic. More than 20 major tasks were completed which have given Magic better performance and made her a more comfortable home.
The major issue dogging the crew of Magic was the lack of performance from the Green Machine. Greg Smith a local diesel engineering whiz kid had the problem solved in about half a day where others experts had abandoned the challenge. The recommended Keith “Golden Spanners” Harris was over looked. As it turned out the after-manifold was almost completely blocked by carbon which had morphed into material as hard as steel inside the casting. Slow running over long periods is the usual cause. One day later and some adjustment on the prop we were scooting along at 6 knots at 2300 revs. Oh What a Feeling; suddenly having all that hot throbbing power underfoot.
Over the next few weeks Magic explored the depths of the D’Entrecasteaux Channel, Bruny Island, Oyster Cove, Barnes Bay and Position (Missionary) Bay were favorites. At weekends the Channel came alive with vessels of all descriptions and we learned lots of new tricks. Catching flathead using a “stump-jump” lure and diving for abalone and scallops were just a couple.
During February we volunteered to be the sober crew on Chameleon during “Charity Day” at Rat Bay. The event is organized by the Hobart Rotary Club and involves local businesses “chartering” about 70 boats at $800 and raised more than $50K for a range of local charities. The day was perfect for the event and there was much falling about and frivolity. We understand that there were some sore heads the next day.
Later in February we moored Magic at Kettering the cheapest marina in Australia (and possibly the world) for $44/week and headed for Macquarie Harbour to stay with Kris and David in Taipan who had at last made it to the west coast. During this visit we continued our exploration of the Gordon and Franklin River systems and made it to the limestone caves. On he way upstream we moored at the Boom Camp and were invaded by a very big and black possum who left his little brown turds all over the cockpit. We found the old lime kilns which were used for the early building works at East Pillinger in Kelly Basin. One kiln was in surprisingly good condition with piles of broken lime ready for firing. We continued our exploration of West Pillinger and found the old rail form which transported material to Fysh River.
Early in March we had an opportunity to visit the north of the state by road and stayed for a few days at Beechford. We visited St Columbia falls, and Ralph falls before having a beer with Priscilla the pig who resides at the Pub in the Paddock near Ringarooma. She loved the attention. On our way back to Hobart we drove to the Central plateau via the Western Tiers.
This is all very well but doesn’t sound much like tales of terror, pillage and drunken debauchery; this is “Magic” here after all.
The truth be known about Magic in Tassie was; here it is …….. WE were held captives by the locals for 4 months we were sworn to never divulge the secrets of the Land of the Scallop Pie; never to mention the great treasures we have seen, eaten or drunk or the sensual pleasures we have experienced. Tassie is the place to be descended upon by those from the north island to experience all it has to offer for themselves, rather than a second hand experience.
Once our escape was made good, the Mighty Magic accompanied by Taipan, fled the wild southern shores to return to the mainland. A slow journey to the Whitsunday Islands ensued stopping along the way in exotic coastal towns like Laurieton, Southport , Brisbane, Gladstone and Bundaberg to name a few.
Along the way we have had a change of crew, you may recall Bernard our trusty auto pilot, had other plans. 6 hours out of Sydney Bernard has had enough, his belts are worn, is aim is off, loyalty amongst the crew is hard to find. A unanimous decision to release Bernard of his duties. An investigation was made and on comes Bill, a shinning new bigger and better Autohelm 6000 takes pride of place in the cockpit, the celebrations are had and we are under way yet again.
Who ever said “You can’t teach and old dog new trick” These little sea dogs have made a few discoveries along the way #1 Never make deadlines. They always come back to bite you or simply wet you. Our Fast & Fearless Ganghook made a commitment to join old hearty sailors on a weeks R&R sailing in the Sydney to Southport Race. An annual get together since the beginning of time. To get the Captain to the start in Sydney the crew decided that the best place to house Magic and the Wench was in Gladstone so the clock was ticking.
Extract from the Captains Log Dated 17th June 2005
(The sun has not yet awoken, the river looks calm, top of the tide, nil wind and bar working well comes the report from the Coast Guard.)
With coffees on the deck and sleep in their eyes Ganghook and the Grumpy Wench meander up the river, just another bar and a day that promises a beautiful sunrise. There’s a flotilla of tinnies to farewell us over the bar. Hmm didn’t know the Magicians were so popular.
The wench is on the bow torch in hand with the wind gently caressing her hair, fishermen are waving, Oh these Laurieton folk are nice. The Wench waves back, Suddenly there’s water; lots of white crashing water; the wench is driven back to the cockpit. The Captain is wide eyed and white knuckled gripping the helm with one hand the other on the throttle. “Hold on, save the coffee”, he yells. The Wench throws herself on the cockpit floor as Magic crashes through the set of 7 huge waves, relentless in their assault, each reach high up the mast, and over the dodger. Murphy’s law is applied to the situation, the green machine is not happy, with the disintegration of the impeller the alarm is screaming. Yet the Captain pushes her reves up higher. Magic’s bow is rising higher and higher. Catapulted up in the air. She feels in mid flight, crashing back into the water shaking her to the keel bolts with the last wave now astern.
Finally, the shaken crew emerge from the near final chapter attempt to set the sails, but wait there’s more, the Genoa won’t unfurl, the Captain races forward fearful for his crews life only to discover the anchor bracket has been carried away by the wild seas, pushing the anchor stock into the geno furler. The Wench calls out “put up the spinnaker, were being pulled back onto the bar.” The captain works swiftly to release the genoa and they are off. At seven am the champagne is poured the crew are shaken, stirred and very grateful. They live to tell the tale. Bar’s are now banned in the dark.
As time marches on and the race for time behind us we enjoy the pleasures of the Whitsundays. Hamilton Island Race Week is a BIG week and the Magic crew are part of all the action. We join the crew of Chameleon, a 46 footer from Tasmania, for a week of fun in the wind and sun is taken to the extremes. Prizes are won, trophies are worn stories are told and the Tasmanians go home. The Piggott’s from Newcastle spent some time with Magic during the week at Hammo.
Magic have guests-a-plenty in the islands, we are joined by Amory and Lluis (Ganghooks daughter & partner from Spain) followed by Alfie and Alison, Jacquie and the kids join us from England. The crew also share time and oysters with Kerry, Tony and the crew from Gallavanter. Oh for the island life.
In January this year, Ganghook and the Wench took time out from the sea to play Grandparents, now that is a challenge. Camping was on the agenda, at a National Park near Manilla in central NSW. Along the way we passed through Tamworth, it was Golden Guitar week the town was crawling with the Click Clack brigade. (Oldies with fold out chairs). Perhaps crawling was a bit harsh, the town was at a standstill for the country Music Festival. There was singing, camping and Bootscooting in the streets, Mechanical bulls on every corner, big hats and cowdy boots all over the place. So we hightailed out of there quick fast. Bush here we come; and you know; the Wench doesn’t do bush. Well bush it was, bush, bush huge bung arras and not a shoe store in sight. We swam in creeks and panned for Gold, (Chris’s wedding ring actually) Made campfires and played snap and fish till the sun went down. Oh for the city life.
Christmas saw Magics and the Taipans rafted up in Morton Bay. A feast afloat was prepared and the party was well planned. The menu was Roast Turkey, Leg Ham and an abundance of Seafood. All the trimmings, presents and homemade ice-cream, the day was going to be Magical in a little bay called Horseshoe Bay. The weather, well what can we say, it’s a bit like Tasmania, - just wait 10 mins. The succulent Turkey was out of the oven, the delicious vegies were passed over to Taipan in preparation for the feast. Out of the blue Magic was forced to dump her mooring lines as a 25 knot southerly hit. Our Christmas dinner was in serious jeopardy, we waved it goodbye as we steamed away with the promise to return. Yup 2hrs later the storm had passed and Magic did return to Horseshoe Bay to resume our Christmas feast. New Year celebrations took place in the Brisbane River; we were joined by Tim (Ganghooks brother) Alfie, Alison and a few others. We all partied like there’s no 2005 into the wee hours, a fine start to a brand new year.
Our Adventures; gruelling they have been at times; “Ha” you may say; but alas it is true. We’ve dodged massive sea mammals and fought the local Queenslanders to defend the mighty Eagles and the Dockers. For 10 months the brave crew have suffered the heat humidity and the unpredictability of the Qld weather. But enough is enough, and the west beckoned the Magicians home westward bound.
February found us aboard a great silver bird soaring high in the sky, we were on our way to where the sun sets in the Indian Ocean and the beaches and wine are unchallenged.
For 7 weeks Cheese, Ganghook and the Wench partied hard. No comrade was left untouched or sober, no shopping outlet unpunished. The crew showed no mercy, Food, wine and women (with the occasional man thrown in) were the order of the day, week and month.
Exhausted and satiated Ganghook caught an early flight back to Sydney where the crew of High Anxiety were making ready for the Sydney to Gold Coast race. The start was a classic, a southerly buster was flying up the coast and rolled over Rushcutters bay just an hour before the gun went off. 40 knots at the heads and something had to give. Spinnakers popped from mastheads which more often than not resulted in tatters and tapes fluttering up the harbour on the fresh southerly. Out the heads we flew with a #4 and full main, flying thru the pack racing north at speeds of up to 14 knots. We passed 40 and 50 footers and at one point were placed in the top 10. Then the wind died and we worked hard to finish in headwinds. A great time spent with sailing mates from 20 years.
The Wench made a leisurely arrival into Brisbane a few days later suffering home sickness and took up the cleaning cudgel. Gradually Magic was brought to order with new standing rigging, another spinnaker pole, crab pot, scrubbed top to bottom, fan in the galley, and other essential transformations. To complete the victualling a pallet of plundered wine (64cases) arrived from WA to be shared among 3 boats.
Loaded to the gunnels Magic headed for Mooloolaba to catch up with friends and play on a white sandy beach. For a week we luxuriated in the sunshine changed the smelly pipes in the head and took coffee (and sometimes cake) with David from Taipan.
Whilst travelling farther north we enjoyed 2 weeks in the Great Sandy Straits. Maryborough was one of the delights of the straits. Situated 18 miles up the Mary River, a quaint little town which hasn’t left the 19th century. We were privy to the firing of the town’s cannon (ex-VOC fro Timor) which marks 1300 each Thursday, we not to sure how the local’s know what time it is the rest of the week. We ventured on the Mary-Anne (a small steam train built by Walkers Engineering in 1887) around the local botanical gardens and enjoyed viewing the many museums in the town.
Fraser Island was our next stop, where the Captain joined the Fremantle crew of Isalei Rua, whom we have met along the way several time since Tasmania, on a 26km hike to Lake McKenzie. Meanwhile, being Mothers Day, the Wench availed herself of some much needed pampering at the Kingfisher Resort. A two hour massage, a facial and an afternoon bird watching by the pool all adds to a happy crew. On the other hand a very tired Captain limped home with a blown out reef walker. He had a great day. (Men are from Mars.)
Ganghook, and the newly toned and beautiful wench have recently farewelled Taipan as they have taken the challenged to investigate piracy options in Indonesia and Thailand while we swan off to the Louisaides to trade with the locals. I think the plan is to start up our own band, Ganghook playing the Clarinet and the Wench on Harmonica and vocals. Now there’s a sound to look forward to. Bound to start a coup.