13th September 2007 sees the crew of Magic arrive back in Langkawi after a 6 month visit in Australia, covering, WA, SA, NSW, Vic and Tasmania. We enjoyed visiting with family and friend. Frolicked in the snow fields of NSW, wined and dinned in the Barrossa Valley, laughed and cried whilst going to the theater, watched breathlessly as the the artists of Vareki flew through the air, and took on board new skills of the culinary delights of Bali. Chris challenged himself by participating in the Perth City to Surf Fun Run and came in the 1st 70 runners out of thousands. Daun cooked and entertained her way around Australia and enjoyed catching up with the family. We took a short break to Bali to relax in the luxurious time share we purchased last year. The Peninsular Beach Resort at Nusa Dua. A wonderful week, we enrolled ourselves in a one day cooking coarse, up at 5.30am to the fresh fruit and sea food markets then back to the Bumbu Bali cooking school to get feast on a traditional Bali breakfast yummo, then all hands are on deck and we discover the delights of preparing Balinese food. A talent we shall be sure to return home with to delight our friends with.
Each time we return to Australia it is harder to leave the welcoming smiles and the love we receive from all our family and friends, Thankyou all so much for your support you were all so willing to give us when we needed it the most.
Friday, October 5, 2007
Monday, October 1, 2007
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.
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.
Message in a Bottle - Just wait 10 minutes February 2005
Message in a Bottle – Part 9
Magic in Tassie - Wait 10 Minutes!
Just another day in sunny paradise. What? This is Tasmania “Wait 10 minutes and the weather will change”
Australia Day weekend and the seagoing crew of Magic arrive to the worst pen at the best address, hmmm Mersey Yacht Club in Devonport – so says the cruising guide. A climb over 2 fishing boats then a hop over the rail onto decaying ply sheeting over a couple of floating pontoons, a trapeze act along a piece of steel then a climb up a rusty ladder; finally the bar is in sight. Boags beautiful Boags, the nectar of Tasmania. Introductions all-round as Ganghook, the Very Beautiful Buxom Wench and crew (Cheese, Mona, Bernard, Lu Lu, Albert, and Sailor Sam) join with other sailors in the Van Diemens Land Circumnavigation, our sailing companions for the next 4 weeks.
Yachts of all sizes, so many names, too many beers, it’s going to take a lot of briefings and beers to get this right. To those unfamiliar with the event, the VDL Circumnavigation was initiated many years ago by, among others the indifatigueable Joe Cannon. The event is organised by the RYCT every 2 years and this year as held in conjunction with the Royal Geelong YC. The circumnavigation was well planned and supported by a wide range of yachties from all over Australia with one husband and wife crew from the US. So many people from a diverse backgrounds all with a love of sailing. The crew of Magic were overwhelmed by the kindness and generosity shown throughout the cruise and after while we remained in Tassie. Many of the sailors we met have become very good friends.
The sights of Devonport at taken in, and surprise, surprise a shoe shop is found, yes you guessed it, a very dashing pair of shoes (all terrain Land Rovers) are purchased for the Captain. He’s in trouble now, the shoe bug has him.
January 27 2005
A fleet of 31 boats set sail for the tiny timber-walled port of Stanley; all jostling to lead the pack. Magic has nothing to prove, for a weekend warrior she is not, the adventurous crew stay at the rear of the fleet as there’s fishing to be done and the sights of the North Coast of Tassie to be enjoyed. The historic fishing village of Stanley is the first port of call, there’s a Nut (a volcanic neck) to be climbed the first of many such high places. Already the Wench has developed a dislike for all things high, and Tasmania has a lot of high things, hills, rocks and mountains, none of which have cafes at the top. An apparently very uncivilised little state.
A couple of days exploring finds the old ANZ bank where the skippers dad worked (as well as a Commercial Bank, Bank of NSW and ES&A bank), several gift shops, a cheese and wine bar, craft shop and heaps of cafes, and the pub where most of the circumnavigators are found. In short, lots of places to spend our hard earned treasure. Best of all the quaint and colourful little houses associated with 150 years of fishing are in good condition and well patronised by holiday makers during “the summer months”. More on the summer months later.
On 30th the fleet headed for Three Hummock and Hunter islands for a night anchorage before heading down the notorious west coast. During the day we received a weather forecast for strong NW winds on the west coast. The cruise commodore decided this was an ideal opportunity to push on to Macquarie Harbour, the narrow entrance of which is appropriately named Hells Gates, which becomes difficult in strong NW winds. So we were committed to our first overnight sail in the roaring 40’s.
So on we rolled through Hunter Passage. Magic still at the rear of the fleet and the conditions in the passage were somewhat akin to entering Prince Regent River in the Kimberley. Six knots of current in a narrow channel against the prevailing westerly winds kicked up the waves into short sharp seas which tend to launch little boats into the abyss on the other side creating all sorts of stuff to happen below including the “galley shut” sign to be hung out. Fortunately aboard Magic, not being the fastest horse out of the stalls, things were not too bad below. We know this because the log noted, “No position Daun was sleeping at 3 am”; then “still no position Daun still sleeping at 5:30”; then at 9am “the radio sked awoke Daun and we now have a position”. (To be a Beautiful Buxom Wench one needs lots of Beauty sleep.)
Later the next afternoon, we reached Cape Sorrell lighthouse abeam of Hells Gates in a 25 to 30 knots following wind and turned east towards the entrance training wall which was out of view behind the lines rolling combers crashing into the sand either side of the entrance channel. At this stage we had the #3 and double reef’d main and were rapidly slewing towards the direction of the entrance. (Teeth chattering stuff) At last the training wall was sighted and we furled the main, leaving only the #3. During this time we had been following another sail which was about 2 miles ahead. We reached the training wall in sight of the entrance and the water calmed somewhat. Suddenly, Daun viewing our approach on the nav program on the computer called that were too far to the west that we were in the wrong bay, a second later an unidentified voice on the VHF rang out, “you have to turn right, the green boat should be following the leads and turning right” Hells Gates right.
At this moment Ganghook decided to reduce speed and sail by furling the #3. Yep, you guessed it the bloody furler took this opportunity to demonstrate that bolts holding plastic end plates to an aluminium drum without washers can pull through and jam the furling line. The Buxom wench raced to the wheel while Ganghook released the halyard and raced forw’d to douse the sail. Magic stopped slewing and plunging and we passed Entrance Island in somewhat calmer conditions with the green machine performing as usual.
The green boat referred to in the VHF message was in fact a blue boat which had passed Entrance Island and presumably the crew in their jubilance at having safely passed thru Hells Gates failed to notice the leads to the right and neatly ran into a sand bank with about 300mm of water covering. The Magic captain had the right bay and later the electronic charts were found to be adrift by about 1 nautical mile. The blue boat was dragged off the shoal by one of the many “shed boats” seen on our circumnavigation. Meanwhile Magic and her crew continued on into Macquarie Harbour and headed south for Farm Cove in anticipation of an early start to traverse the famous Gordon River. Most of the fleet retired to Strahan to replenish their supplies. At the pub.
The next day we headed up the Gordon River to Heritage Landing, the principal destination of the “tourist” charter boats sailing from Strahan. Making our way upstream in the cold rainy climate, synonymous with the west coast, we were passed by one tour boat with a number of celebrating VDL circumnavigators, while we were enjoying morning tea in style- fresh scones, with cream and jam and tea from the silver teapot. At Heritage Landing we found a single 2,000 year old Huon Pine tree with a number of stems which covered an area about the size of half a netball court. Further upstream past Butler Island (made famous by the photograph) we stayed at Warners Landing, the site of the Hydro camp associated with the Gordon below Franklin Scheme of the 70’s and Sir John Falls.
During our stay at Sir John Falls we were introduced to the Wait 10 minute principal by one of the VDL Circumnavigators. If it raining now wait 10 minutes and the weather will change, either for the better of worse. By now the weather was becoming more inclement (typical west coast) and we were forced into wet weather gear and winter thermals. The Magic crew dinghied up the Gordon over several shallow rapids to reach the Franklin. The topography in both rivers was very different. The Gordon is generally steep sided and fast flowing while the Franklin is more gently sloping with limestone outcrops and lots of pools and riffles. Several days were spent exploring the pristine forests along the Gordon River before making our way downstream to Strahan to rendezvous with the rest of the Fleet.
While making our way downstream a storm warning was issued for all SW Tasmanian waters and the Magic crew sheltered by dropping the anchor mid river, reversing into a tiny tributary of the Gordon and mooring the stern to trees on both banks . While Magic managed to stay out of the wind a fair bit of tree fell about on the ship.
At Strahan a big shindig had been organised in the local pub and the crew of Magic were going to strut there stuff. So dressed to the nines the Captain attired in his Vicars outfit complete with beanbag belly and afro wig masquerading as (Father Bendover) and the Wench disguised as Marcel Marso they embarked on another steep learning curve – what was your name again? Entertaining the patrons and locals alike.
February 6
A 3am start- (yes in the morning) another thing the Captain has discovered about the Wench is that she doesn’t do mornings. Our days sailing mostly light nor’ wester takes us to Port Davy only accessible via boat, small air craft or foot. By 5pm we are in sight of Cape St Vincent and the Western Pyramids and we have another change in the weather. The predicted westerly arrives with a vengeance (you don’t want to know how much) “Galley Closed” and we are almost instantly surfing down steep waves.
The # 3 as the perfect sail and we appeared to be catching the rest of the fleet most of who were motoring. As the light was failing fast we followed an S & S 34 behind Breaksea Islands into the main channel leading to Bathurst Harbour. Once again the furling gear on the genoa failed us and we were heading east with quite a bit of air behind us. Fortunately the water was calm as we approached Schooner Cove and flew around the corner to discover almost the whole fleet anchored in the dark. Weaving our Magic thru the crowd was both exhilarating and fearful (heart in mouth kinda fearful) they enjoyed seeing us come to anchor under sail 2 boat lengths from the steep side of the cove.
Ganghook and the Wench spent the next few days climbing mountains and exploring the wilderness of Port Davey, the Narrows, Bathurst Harbour observing the fantastic views of this wonderful area. This spectacular park has been made famous by the King family and especially Deny King who lived at the end of Melaleuca inlet from the 1930’s mining tin and observing nature in all its glories. Deny, who died in 1991, was well known round the world for his bird observations and was the first to observe the decline of a rare grass parrot the Orange Bellied Parrot which bred in the SW and west coast. Deny believed that their decline was associated with reduced burning regime of the area. The Magic crew were so impressed with the rugged beauty of the SW that we have decided to return to Port Davey in a later voyage. Someone else described Port Davey and Bathurst Harbour as being a grey wet version of the Kimberley. During our stay we discovered the Wench does bush and climbing too. (Under great sufferance – the lure of a new pair of shoes dangling at the end of a long stick and BYO lolly provisions.)
Friday 11 February
Early start again to sail to Recherche Bay, named and discovered by Baudin in his explorations around Tasmania and the Great Australian Bight. A majestic and beautiful start to the day sailing thru huge rocky outcrops and islands with a nice little NW breeze pushing Magic around SW Cape (our second cape) where the cray fisherman were laying pots all higgledy piggledy. We flew past Maatsuyker Island on a reach and as we were keen to keep going we ended the day’s sail anchored off Southport and tucked into lamb shanks with a bottle of Wignall’s cabernet.
The next day we followed a small gauge railway around Hastings Bay and for the first time in weeks observed powerlines and cars on a made road. It was clear that opportunities for plundering and the other good bits were rapidly approaching.
Off to Port Cygnet in the Huon estuary later in the morning for a BBQ dinner at the local yacht club. A great spread was put on by the club and we retired in good time to rise early to check out the local scene. The wench discovered excellent blackberries on the road to town and after a short time we had sufficient for several meals and jam as well. Meanwhile, Ganghook searching the shores for low tide offerings discovered oysters and heaps of them. Later, after eating a hearty breakfast of fresh shucked oysters followed by, you guessed it, blackberries we spent the rest of the day exploring Port Cygnet.
To complete the native repast, the wench discovered a bakery with camembert and chicken pies and after hungrily wolfing one down she announced to all those who would listen that they were the BEST PIES IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD. A big call.
St Valentines Day dawned clear and sunny with light winds. Magic dropped the mooring and said goodbye to her friends in Port Cygnet we decided to head for the northern area of the D’Entrecasteaux Channel and explore fishing opportunities adjacent to Bruny Island. We anchored in Missionary Bay (for some quaint reason the locals call this Position Bay) and caught several flathead, before moving north to Barnes Bay and yet another BBQ at the BB Aquatic Club. What a great night the club put on.
As the bay was crowded with other anchored vessels and was exceptionally calm we decided to raft up with 2 others on a (3 tonne) mooring. Following the BBQ we quietly slipped away so that we could arise early to take in the scenery. At 3 am a sudden, strong south westerly change woke us. Magic was bucking and weaving against her neighbour and likely to break something. With the wench adorned in her Poo pj’s and in 30 knots of wind and rain we let go the neighbour and motored into the confusion and darkness. Boats were going everywhere. There were lights, shouting and some poor soul was still singing off the affects of the red wine.
We eventually anchored in the lee of the opposite shore after we worked out where we were. The wench was soaked and frozen and Ganghook had to administer first aid in the form of hot Milo laced with brandy before getting into bed with the patient to provide body warmth to stop the onset of hypothermia. We surveyed the damage the next morning an apart from a few scratches Magic came out of it well.
On 15 February the Magic crew motor-sailed out of the channel into the Derwent River and made our way to the Royal Yacht Club of Tasmania who were to be our hosts for the next 10 days, where a hectic round of maintenance was planned for Magic followed by a short holiday back to Perth. This cruising for a living is Tuff Stuff.
A special thanks to all of our friends in Tasmania who generously provided vehicles, accommodation, meals, and wonderful entertainment while we were there.
Recommended reading: King of the Wilderness The Life of Deny King; by Christobel Mattingley
Storm & Silence; A Portrait of the Tasman Sea, by Joe Cannon
Magic in Tassie - Wait 10 Minutes!
Just another day in sunny paradise. What? This is Tasmania “Wait 10 minutes and the weather will change”
Australia Day weekend and the seagoing crew of Magic arrive to the worst pen at the best address, hmmm Mersey Yacht Club in Devonport – so says the cruising guide. A climb over 2 fishing boats then a hop over the rail onto decaying ply sheeting over a couple of floating pontoons, a trapeze act along a piece of steel then a climb up a rusty ladder; finally the bar is in sight. Boags beautiful Boags, the nectar of Tasmania. Introductions all-round as Ganghook, the Very Beautiful Buxom Wench and crew (Cheese, Mona, Bernard, Lu Lu, Albert, and Sailor Sam) join with other sailors in the Van Diemens Land Circumnavigation, our sailing companions for the next 4 weeks.
Yachts of all sizes, so many names, too many beers, it’s going to take a lot of briefings and beers to get this right. To those unfamiliar with the event, the VDL Circumnavigation was initiated many years ago by, among others the indifatigueable Joe Cannon. The event is organised by the RYCT every 2 years and this year as held in conjunction with the Royal Geelong YC. The circumnavigation was well planned and supported by a wide range of yachties from all over Australia with one husband and wife crew from the US. So many people from a diverse backgrounds all with a love of sailing. The crew of Magic were overwhelmed by the kindness and generosity shown throughout the cruise and after while we remained in Tassie. Many of the sailors we met have become very good friends.
The sights of Devonport at taken in, and surprise, surprise a shoe shop is found, yes you guessed it, a very dashing pair of shoes (all terrain Land Rovers) are purchased for the Captain. He’s in trouble now, the shoe bug has him.
January 27 2005
A fleet of 31 boats set sail for the tiny timber-walled port of Stanley; all jostling to lead the pack. Magic has nothing to prove, for a weekend warrior she is not, the adventurous crew stay at the rear of the fleet as there’s fishing to be done and the sights of the North Coast of Tassie to be enjoyed. The historic fishing village of Stanley is the first port of call, there’s a Nut (a volcanic neck) to be climbed the first of many such high places. Already the Wench has developed a dislike for all things high, and Tasmania has a lot of high things, hills, rocks and mountains, none of which have cafes at the top. An apparently very uncivilised little state.
A couple of days exploring finds the old ANZ bank where the skippers dad worked (as well as a Commercial Bank, Bank of NSW and ES&A bank), several gift shops, a cheese and wine bar, craft shop and heaps of cafes, and the pub where most of the circumnavigators are found. In short, lots of places to spend our hard earned treasure. Best of all the quaint and colourful little houses associated with 150 years of fishing are in good condition and well patronised by holiday makers during “the summer months”. More on the summer months later.
On 30th the fleet headed for Three Hummock and Hunter islands for a night anchorage before heading down the notorious west coast. During the day we received a weather forecast for strong NW winds on the west coast. The cruise commodore decided this was an ideal opportunity to push on to Macquarie Harbour, the narrow entrance of which is appropriately named Hells Gates, which becomes difficult in strong NW winds. So we were committed to our first overnight sail in the roaring 40’s.
So on we rolled through Hunter Passage. Magic still at the rear of the fleet and the conditions in the passage were somewhat akin to entering Prince Regent River in the Kimberley. Six knots of current in a narrow channel against the prevailing westerly winds kicked up the waves into short sharp seas which tend to launch little boats into the abyss on the other side creating all sorts of stuff to happen below including the “galley shut” sign to be hung out. Fortunately aboard Magic, not being the fastest horse out of the stalls, things were not too bad below. We know this because the log noted, “No position Daun was sleeping at 3 am”; then “still no position Daun still sleeping at 5:30”; then at 9am “the radio sked awoke Daun and we now have a position”. (To be a Beautiful Buxom Wench one needs lots of Beauty sleep.)
Later the next afternoon, we reached Cape Sorrell lighthouse abeam of Hells Gates in a 25 to 30 knots following wind and turned east towards the entrance training wall which was out of view behind the lines rolling combers crashing into the sand either side of the entrance channel. At this stage we had the #3 and double reef’d main and were rapidly slewing towards the direction of the entrance. (Teeth chattering stuff) At last the training wall was sighted and we furled the main, leaving only the #3. During this time we had been following another sail which was about 2 miles ahead. We reached the training wall in sight of the entrance and the water calmed somewhat. Suddenly, Daun viewing our approach on the nav program on the computer called that were too far to the west that we were in the wrong bay, a second later an unidentified voice on the VHF rang out, “you have to turn right, the green boat should be following the leads and turning right” Hells Gates right.
At this moment Ganghook decided to reduce speed and sail by furling the #3. Yep, you guessed it the bloody furler took this opportunity to demonstrate that bolts holding plastic end plates to an aluminium drum without washers can pull through and jam the furling line. The Buxom wench raced to the wheel while Ganghook released the halyard and raced forw’d to douse the sail. Magic stopped slewing and plunging and we passed Entrance Island in somewhat calmer conditions with the green machine performing as usual.
The green boat referred to in the VHF message was in fact a blue boat which had passed Entrance Island and presumably the crew in their jubilance at having safely passed thru Hells Gates failed to notice the leads to the right and neatly ran into a sand bank with about 300mm of water covering. The Magic captain had the right bay and later the electronic charts were found to be adrift by about 1 nautical mile. The blue boat was dragged off the shoal by one of the many “shed boats” seen on our circumnavigation. Meanwhile Magic and her crew continued on into Macquarie Harbour and headed south for Farm Cove in anticipation of an early start to traverse the famous Gordon River. Most of the fleet retired to Strahan to replenish their supplies. At the pub.
The next day we headed up the Gordon River to Heritage Landing, the principal destination of the “tourist” charter boats sailing from Strahan. Making our way upstream in the cold rainy climate, synonymous with the west coast, we were passed by one tour boat with a number of celebrating VDL circumnavigators, while we were enjoying morning tea in style- fresh scones, with cream and jam and tea from the silver teapot. At Heritage Landing we found a single 2,000 year old Huon Pine tree with a number of stems which covered an area about the size of half a netball court. Further upstream past Butler Island (made famous by the photograph) we stayed at Warners Landing, the site of the Hydro camp associated with the Gordon below Franklin Scheme of the 70’s and Sir John Falls.
During our stay at Sir John Falls we were introduced to the Wait 10 minute principal by one of the VDL Circumnavigators. If it raining now wait 10 minutes and the weather will change, either for the better of worse. By now the weather was becoming more inclement (typical west coast) and we were forced into wet weather gear and winter thermals. The Magic crew dinghied up the Gordon over several shallow rapids to reach the Franklin. The topography in both rivers was very different. The Gordon is generally steep sided and fast flowing while the Franklin is more gently sloping with limestone outcrops and lots of pools and riffles. Several days were spent exploring the pristine forests along the Gordon River before making our way downstream to Strahan to rendezvous with the rest of the Fleet.
While making our way downstream a storm warning was issued for all SW Tasmanian waters and the Magic crew sheltered by dropping the anchor mid river, reversing into a tiny tributary of the Gordon and mooring the stern to trees on both banks . While Magic managed to stay out of the wind a fair bit of tree fell about on the ship.
At Strahan a big shindig had been organised in the local pub and the crew of Magic were going to strut there stuff. So dressed to the nines the Captain attired in his Vicars outfit complete with beanbag belly and afro wig masquerading as (Father Bendover) and the Wench disguised as Marcel Marso they embarked on another steep learning curve – what was your name again? Entertaining the patrons and locals alike.
February 6
A 3am start- (yes in the morning) another thing the Captain has discovered about the Wench is that she doesn’t do mornings. Our days sailing mostly light nor’ wester takes us to Port Davy only accessible via boat, small air craft or foot. By 5pm we are in sight of Cape St Vincent and the Western Pyramids and we have another change in the weather. The predicted westerly arrives with a vengeance (you don’t want to know how much) “Galley Closed” and we are almost instantly surfing down steep waves.
The # 3 as the perfect sail and we appeared to be catching the rest of the fleet most of who were motoring. As the light was failing fast we followed an S & S 34 behind Breaksea Islands into the main channel leading to Bathurst Harbour. Once again the furling gear on the genoa failed us and we were heading east with quite a bit of air behind us. Fortunately the water was calm as we approached Schooner Cove and flew around the corner to discover almost the whole fleet anchored in the dark. Weaving our Magic thru the crowd was both exhilarating and fearful (heart in mouth kinda fearful) they enjoyed seeing us come to anchor under sail 2 boat lengths from the steep side of the cove.
Ganghook and the Wench spent the next few days climbing mountains and exploring the wilderness of Port Davey, the Narrows, Bathurst Harbour observing the fantastic views of this wonderful area. This spectacular park has been made famous by the King family and especially Deny King who lived at the end of Melaleuca inlet from the 1930’s mining tin and observing nature in all its glories. Deny, who died in 1991, was well known round the world for his bird observations and was the first to observe the decline of a rare grass parrot the Orange Bellied Parrot which bred in the SW and west coast. Deny believed that their decline was associated with reduced burning regime of the area. The Magic crew were so impressed with the rugged beauty of the SW that we have decided to return to Port Davey in a later voyage. Someone else described Port Davey and Bathurst Harbour as being a grey wet version of the Kimberley. During our stay we discovered the Wench does bush and climbing too. (Under great sufferance – the lure of a new pair of shoes dangling at the end of a long stick and BYO lolly provisions.)
Friday 11 February
Early start again to sail to Recherche Bay, named and discovered by Baudin in his explorations around Tasmania and the Great Australian Bight. A majestic and beautiful start to the day sailing thru huge rocky outcrops and islands with a nice little NW breeze pushing Magic around SW Cape (our second cape) where the cray fisherman were laying pots all higgledy piggledy. We flew past Maatsuyker Island on a reach and as we were keen to keep going we ended the day’s sail anchored off Southport and tucked into lamb shanks with a bottle of Wignall’s cabernet.
The next day we followed a small gauge railway around Hastings Bay and for the first time in weeks observed powerlines and cars on a made road. It was clear that opportunities for plundering and the other good bits were rapidly approaching.
Off to Port Cygnet in the Huon estuary later in the morning for a BBQ dinner at the local yacht club. A great spread was put on by the club and we retired in good time to rise early to check out the local scene. The wench discovered excellent blackberries on the road to town and after a short time we had sufficient for several meals and jam as well. Meanwhile, Ganghook searching the shores for low tide offerings discovered oysters and heaps of them. Later, after eating a hearty breakfast of fresh shucked oysters followed by, you guessed it, blackberries we spent the rest of the day exploring Port Cygnet.
To complete the native repast, the wench discovered a bakery with camembert and chicken pies and after hungrily wolfing one down she announced to all those who would listen that they were the BEST PIES IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD. A big call.
St Valentines Day dawned clear and sunny with light winds. Magic dropped the mooring and said goodbye to her friends in Port Cygnet we decided to head for the northern area of the D’Entrecasteaux Channel and explore fishing opportunities adjacent to Bruny Island. We anchored in Missionary Bay (for some quaint reason the locals call this Position Bay) and caught several flathead, before moving north to Barnes Bay and yet another BBQ at the BB Aquatic Club. What a great night the club put on.
As the bay was crowded with other anchored vessels and was exceptionally calm we decided to raft up with 2 others on a (3 tonne) mooring. Following the BBQ we quietly slipped away so that we could arise early to take in the scenery. At 3 am a sudden, strong south westerly change woke us. Magic was bucking and weaving against her neighbour and likely to break something. With the wench adorned in her Poo pj’s and in 30 knots of wind and rain we let go the neighbour and motored into the confusion and darkness. Boats were going everywhere. There were lights, shouting and some poor soul was still singing off the affects of the red wine.
We eventually anchored in the lee of the opposite shore after we worked out where we were. The wench was soaked and frozen and Ganghook had to administer first aid in the form of hot Milo laced with brandy before getting into bed with the patient to provide body warmth to stop the onset of hypothermia. We surveyed the damage the next morning an apart from a few scratches Magic came out of it well.
On 15 February the Magic crew motor-sailed out of the channel into the Derwent River and made our way to the Royal Yacht Club of Tasmania who were to be our hosts for the next 10 days, where a hectic round of maintenance was planned for Magic followed by a short holiday back to Perth. This cruising for a living is Tuff Stuff.
A special thanks to all of our friends in Tasmania who generously provided vehicles, accommodation, meals, and wonderful entertainment while we were there.
Recommended reading: King of the Wilderness The Life of Deny King; by Christobel Mattingley
Storm & Silence; A Portrait of the Tasman Sea, by Joe Cannon
Message in a Bottle - Old Sydney Town to Boags January 2005
Magic on the East Coast
Ed: The New Beginning (year) is now somewhat longer in the tooth than we intended. Apologies.
A little ship rolled out of the mist, her white hull barely visible in the swirling vapours, the water is churned up by passing ferries and other craft, the mast is swaying as the beginning of New Year is born. Magic in the metropolitan wild anchored in Farm Cove. The view is magnificent, the still sleeping city of Sydney, with the lights constantly changing from red to amber to green, the omni present Opera House and the climbers on the Harbour Bridge just starting to breath the fumes of the early morning traffic as vehicles of all types hurry their way so their occupants can start the working day. The Manly Ferry chugs up the harbour waters transporting more reluctant workers to their respective city bound occupation spaces. All the while the Captain is back from the short version (Syd to Eden) of the Hobart race, and the wench is overjoyed. The year has a whole lot more in store for the crew on board Magic.
With the rugged 2004 Sydney to Hobart rapidly fading into the distant memory of many a sailor, the sulphur smell of fireworks too is drifting into the far away corner of our memory. The crew regroup and are ready to take to the challenge of the Tasman Sea and Bass Strait or The Paddock as the locals call it.
It’s the 13th January 2005 and the little convoy of Magic and Taipan throw off the mooring lines holding us to the city and the CYC marina at Rushcutters Bay. Our flotilla is bound for the terrors of the Bass Strait – is it really that treacherous? The sun is high and the spirits are fulsome; some might say a little too robust. Much merriment has been had; we’re on our way yet again.
Sketch plans for more lockers and cupboards (for shoes, I hear you ask) have been drawn up and forwarded onto a well respected carpenter in Tasmania, to accommodate the products of shopping frenzies in Ol Sydney Town. In addition, a special trip is planned to transport unwanted cargo to Perth in March.
Port Hacking is first stop for the crew. A quick grounding on the sand bar to re-familiarise the crew with Magic’s capabilities when the locals living adjacent to Barraneer Point moved the starboard marker and then into the anchorage to enjoy the many splendours of Gunnamatta Bay. Both crews gather on Magic to devour a feast of a roast lamb and chat about the days events before bedding down for the night.
An early start and away we go, gently nudging our way over the sandbar amongst the pelicans and the scatterings of small fishing dinghies, the lure is thrown overboard and the trawling begins. A ninety mile passage lays at our bow, the sails are set, the orders are issued, what more can be done; a good book is calling. We sailed into the wee hours of the morning and dropped anchor behind Snapper Island catch some zzzzzz, (which was all we caught, there is a serious lack of fish on the NSW coast).
With the morning light comes the opportunity to cross yet another river bar and negotiate under the lifting span bridge guarding the entry to the Clyde River. Alas, the wench makes a bad call and Magic bites the dust, ( bogged would be a better turn of phrase). After much under the breath muttering we were afloat again and retreating to the safer depths to wait for the high tide before attempting the bar at Batemans Bay again. Three hours later and a chat with a couple of the local fishing boats we are over the shallows of the bar and heading under the raised bridge to explore then shores of the Clyde River and Batemans Bay.
16th January 2005
The river passage is well marked and a pleasant motor-sail to the historic village of Nelligen with the crew from Taipan onboard. Nelligen was the ferry crossing for the Princes Highway till the early 60’s and the starting point for at least one gold rush.
We returned to the port and did a little run round the bay as well as a walk to the top of the nearby hill and around the foreshore. Farmed oysters are plentiful here but nothing on the rocks to speak of. Headed for Eden on a rising barometer. A strong Nor’easter blew us into anchor in Snug Cove as we awaited the passing of a southerly change before venturing into Bass Strait. We visited the museum to see and read about old Tom the killer whale with attitude and a liking of Humpback tongues and lips. We visited the site of Boyd Town and enjoyed an inadvertent swim in the dinghy as we landed. What a vision Boyd had with his grandiose scheme to develop whaling and his poor commercial attitude. The remains of the church built at he back of Boyd Town is magnificent and urgently needs protection from the elements if it is to remain a significant site. At last the weather forecast is suitable for crossing the paddock and we head for Gabo Island and the open sea.
21st January 2005
Magic slowly heads out into the wild blue yonder only the winds are calm and her motor is labouring, the propeller is not coping and a slow 2.5 knots is all she will do. However, never fear Ganghook to the rescue, with a single bound he disappears over the stern into a pool as black as night with tools in hand and snorkel in mouth he bravely battles the slapping stern as Magic rolls about the Bass Strait the wench keeps a vigilant look out for “SHARKS”. Yes we are 4 miles offshore and the bravery factor is enormous, is Tasmania really ready for such a super hero? Try as he may, the motor still labours, the crew turn back to Boyd Town for yet another night.
A meal, a sleep a lot of discussion and we are off again, this time 4.5 knot over the ground and we are away. Watch out Tassie. For 2 days and 2 very long nights we motor with an after guard of seals. The Wench has begun to doubt the adventures of the brave sailors who have gone before her across the so called treacherous Bass Strait one is beginning to think it’s a boy’s club, full of tales of terror to keep the women home and the food coming. Hmmmmm!
Books are read, the fishing is very poor, and the excitement it beginning to build as the promise of wind is on its way. At 1am the captain is below enjoying his slumber when suddenly away she goes, wind glorious wind, the sails are hoisted and the wench is putting Magic through her paces, a new day is born land is not far beyond the horizon.
1600 hours, 25th January 2005
“Land Ahoy” was the cry, Cheese the trusty ships rat has emerged from scrubbing the bilges and makes the call, “all hands on deck”, the home of the Scallop Pie is only a Boags away.
Ed: The New Beginning (year) is now somewhat longer in the tooth than we intended. Apologies.
A little ship rolled out of the mist, her white hull barely visible in the swirling vapours, the water is churned up by passing ferries and other craft, the mast is swaying as the beginning of New Year is born. Magic in the metropolitan wild anchored in Farm Cove. The view is magnificent, the still sleeping city of Sydney, with the lights constantly changing from red to amber to green, the omni present Opera House and the climbers on the Harbour Bridge just starting to breath the fumes of the early morning traffic as vehicles of all types hurry their way so their occupants can start the working day. The Manly Ferry chugs up the harbour waters transporting more reluctant workers to their respective city bound occupation spaces. All the while the Captain is back from the short version (Syd to Eden) of the Hobart race, and the wench is overjoyed. The year has a whole lot more in store for the crew on board Magic.
With the rugged 2004 Sydney to Hobart rapidly fading into the distant memory of many a sailor, the sulphur smell of fireworks too is drifting into the far away corner of our memory. The crew regroup and are ready to take to the challenge of the Tasman Sea and Bass Strait or The Paddock as the locals call it.
It’s the 13th January 2005 and the little convoy of Magic and Taipan throw off the mooring lines holding us to the city and the CYC marina at Rushcutters Bay. Our flotilla is bound for the terrors of the Bass Strait – is it really that treacherous? The sun is high and the spirits are fulsome; some might say a little too robust. Much merriment has been had; we’re on our way yet again.
Sketch plans for more lockers and cupboards (for shoes, I hear you ask) have been drawn up and forwarded onto a well respected carpenter in Tasmania, to accommodate the products of shopping frenzies in Ol Sydney Town. In addition, a special trip is planned to transport unwanted cargo to Perth in March.
Port Hacking is first stop for the crew. A quick grounding on the sand bar to re-familiarise the crew with Magic’s capabilities when the locals living adjacent to Barraneer Point moved the starboard marker and then into the anchorage to enjoy the many splendours of Gunnamatta Bay. Both crews gather on Magic to devour a feast of a roast lamb and chat about the days events before bedding down for the night.
An early start and away we go, gently nudging our way over the sandbar amongst the pelicans and the scatterings of small fishing dinghies, the lure is thrown overboard and the trawling begins. A ninety mile passage lays at our bow, the sails are set, the orders are issued, what more can be done; a good book is calling. We sailed into the wee hours of the morning and dropped anchor behind Snapper Island catch some zzzzzz, (which was all we caught, there is a serious lack of fish on the NSW coast).
With the morning light comes the opportunity to cross yet another river bar and negotiate under the lifting span bridge guarding the entry to the Clyde River. Alas, the wench makes a bad call and Magic bites the dust, ( bogged would be a better turn of phrase). After much under the breath muttering we were afloat again and retreating to the safer depths to wait for the high tide before attempting the bar at Batemans Bay again. Three hours later and a chat with a couple of the local fishing boats we are over the shallows of the bar and heading under the raised bridge to explore then shores of the Clyde River and Batemans Bay.
16th January 2005
The river passage is well marked and a pleasant motor-sail to the historic village of Nelligen with the crew from Taipan onboard. Nelligen was the ferry crossing for the Princes Highway till the early 60’s and the starting point for at least one gold rush.
We returned to the port and did a little run round the bay as well as a walk to the top of the nearby hill and around the foreshore. Farmed oysters are plentiful here but nothing on the rocks to speak of. Headed for Eden on a rising barometer. A strong Nor’easter blew us into anchor in Snug Cove as we awaited the passing of a southerly change before venturing into Bass Strait. We visited the museum to see and read about old Tom the killer whale with attitude and a liking of Humpback tongues and lips. We visited the site of Boyd Town and enjoyed an inadvertent swim in the dinghy as we landed. What a vision Boyd had with his grandiose scheme to develop whaling and his poor commercial attitude. The remains of the church built at he back of Boyd Town is magnificent and urgently needs protection from the elements if it is to remain a significant site. At last the weather forecast is suitable for crossing the paddock and we head for Gabo Island and the open sea.
21st January 2005
Magic slowly heads out into the wild blue yonder only the winds are calm and her motor is labouring, the propeller is not coping and a slow 2.5 knots is all she will do. However, never fear Ganghook to the rescue, with a single bound he disappears over the stern into a pool as black as night with tools in hand and snorkel in mouth he bravely battles the slapping stern as Magic rolls about the Bass Strait the wench keeps a vigilant look out for “SHARKS”. Yes we are 4 miles offshore and the bravery factor is enormous, is Tasmania really ready for such a super hero? Try as he may, the motor still labours, the crew turn back to Boyd Town for yet another night.
A meal, a sleep a lot of discussion and we are off again, this time 4.5 knot over the ground and we are away. Watch out Tassie. For 2 days and 2 very long nights we motor with an after guard of seals. The Wench has begun to doubt the adventures of the brave sailors who have gone before her across the so called treacherous Bass Strait one is beginning to think it’s a boy’s club, full of tales of terror to keep the women home and the food coming. Hmmmmm!
Books are read, the fishing is very poor, and the excitement it beginning to build as the promise of wind is on its way. At 1am the captain is below enjoying his slumber when suddenly away she goes, wind glorious wind, the sails are hoisted and the wench is putting Magic through her paces, a new day is born land is not far beyond the horizon.
1600 hours, 25th January 2005
“Land Ahoy” was the cry, Cheese the trusty ships rat has emerged from scrubbing the bilges and makes the call, “all hands on deck”, the home of the Scallop Pie is only a Boags away.
Message in a Bottle - Magic in Cape Country December 2004
Message in a Bottle – Part 7
Magic in Cape Country
Ah me little ‘arties, it’s Christmas time and the Captain and his wench are here to bid you a hearty Christmas and a Tankard of best ale of a New Year. The next searingly exciting version of Message in a Bottle is coming your way. As it is the season to be jolly, especially for pirates, as well as those left to carry the burden of working, we suggest you get yourself a nice little champers darlings, to help you follow our little adventure.
You may remember that we left you at Lizard Island promising to reveal all sorts of nonsense about natives and undiscovered bodies. Before we get to that dear reader, we must tell you about our visit to the Cod Hole on the reef and tracing Cooks footsteps to the top of what is quaintly called Cook’s Look. The Cod Hole was a fantastic experience for us both and to amplify our pleasure we took hostages from Lizard Island. David and Kris our two comrades in arms from Taipan.
The variety and diversity of fish on the reef were a sight to behold. We spent hours snorkelling around the edge of the reef and saw hundreds of colourful fish and coral in all shapes and sizes, from double headed Maori wrasse` 3 feet long potato cod bigger than Daun, to delightful little clown fish just like Nemo. The captain took his underwater camera and managed to get a couple of photos of water with unrecognisable fish a looong way away, as well a snaps of his hand, the bottom of the boat and other miscellaneous objects. We were lucky as the day before we had visited the Lizard Island GBR research station which provided us with the truth about the dreaded crown of thorns star fish, of which there were none at the cod hole or at Lizard. Our snorkelling trip to the cod hole was preceded by a swim around the clam garden adjacent to the anchorage on Lizard. This well named coral patch is home to dozens of giant clams in all the colours of the rainbows. Some of the shells were more than a metre in length and looked to be in excellent condition. Not that we knew what clam tasted like but, we do know that Captain Jim’s crew consumed plenty with turtle as a side dish.
The following day we climbed to the top of Cook’s Look, the 350 metre peak on the north end of the island to see what there was to see. The view was amazing and although Jim was there for some hours you will be pleased to hear that he only left his foot prints and neglected to sign the visitors book.
Now cast your mind back a few days to our promise of bodies and fierce natives. During our passage from the tip of Cape York to Lizard Island we discovered Forbes and Morris Island. Forbes was our first truly tropical island with clear warm water, high peaks, colourful coral and waving coconut palms. We arrived at sunset and rowed to the shore to celebrate our success under a palm. The next day the buxom wench and Capt Ganghook explored the whole island and found the remains of a farm house, a well and engine shed. A grave on the island from 1923 marks the passage of time and the dashed hopes of a young man. The windward side of this National Park island was cluttered with enough plastic bottles, rubber thongs, and other detritus including an old fridge washed up on the shore to keep Ian Kiernan, our Clean Up Oz guru, going for a few weeks. We reluctantly left Forbes for our next anchorage on our passage south.
Morris Island was a must stop for us as it harboured hundreds of cooing Torres Strait Pigeons which commute daily to the mainland to feed, returning in waves at dusk. The island itself was small and we took possession after a mere 30 minutes circumnavigation. During our walk we discovered turtle tracks, small light spotted rays in the shallows, a number of small coconut palms, thousands of birds from the ubiquitous pigeon to a pair of white bellied sea eagles and a flock of pelicans, a grave marked with dozens of coloured plastic bottles, bouys and some anchor chain. All the while the stout heart of the island protected by a fearsome species of plant with very spiky leaves. Even the dogged nesting turtle had trouble penetrating the barrier presented by this piercing plant. We snorkelled with the last of the sunlight and repaired to the beach for a sundowner and pondered on the origin of the plant species.
After the complete tour of Lizard Island, Magic in convoy with Taipan, headed for Cooktown where we did what all good sailors do. We ate at the RSL and said “never again”. Amazing scenes of the ground covered with ripe mangoes under all the street trees planted by the hundreds last century. We visited the museum and the botanic gardens and found the town still under the spell of Cook who you will recall repaired his ship on the beach after falling foul of Endeavour reef. The museum is a beautiful C19 convent abandoned after WW2 and restored in the 70's with funds from the locals and, wait for it, the Bjelke Peterson government.
With another James Cook book under our arm and we departed Cooktown for east Hope Island where we swam without fear of crocs and enjoyed a sundowner on the beach whilst swapping tales with other passing yachties. The next day we headed for Cape Tribulation, anchored and took a walk around some of the famous rainforest.
From Cape Tribulation to Yorkeys Knob the crews of Magic & Taipan lead by the very handsome yet fearless Captain Ganghook made preparations to plunder the town of Cairns. Their plan was to stealthily stalk the outskirts and scope the surrounding area. Plunder by day, party all night. Seven days at Yorkeys Knob saw the plan come to fruition. A party was assembled, the pirates made their way to the vulnerable town of Cairns, the men folk armed with tape measures and tools headed for the industrial area, all the whilst the wench and her companion made a full blown attack on the city centre, not a hairdresser or shoe store was safe, with wallets flying and handbags swinging the women folk of the crew demanded respect (the kind only money can buy), not a bar or eatery was safe, the unremorseful crew paid no mercy to the Queenslanders. Next, a celebratory trip on the sky rail up to Karundra was enjoyed, the market place and even more shoe stores were held at purse point, the mighty warriors of the two Galleons were now starting to show signs of fatigue the plundering of Cairns and surrounding areas had to come to an end.
The crew of Magic was briefed and the next leg of the voyage had to be made post haste, not a moment to spare, the much publicised rendezvous on the shores of NSW with the sleek sloop “Santana” and the vast fleet bound for the distant city of Hobart was perilously close. The day of reckoning for us was looming. After 14 days and 14 nights the tired and mostly wet crew sailed by Coffs Harbour only 200 mile to go to get to Old Sydney Town. A few stops were made along the way, Nare Inlet on Hook Island – Whitsundays, Hamilton Island, Brampton Island then Bundaberg, spirits were raised and the voyage continued. From Bundaberg further south to Hervey Bay a sail with the wind abaft the beam thru the Great Sandy Straight passed Fraser Island to Tin Can Bay. Here the battle with the wind and currents hindered the passage over the Wide Bay Bar, 3 metre swells, adverse winds and rain fell upon the crew, (visualise Scuffy the Tug Boat in a washing machine). Teeth were clenched harnesses were tethered the crew were on full alert. Once over the bar Magic and her crew withstood the trials of squally winds, thunder and lightning mixed with heavy rain, sanctuary was taken at Iluka NSW – very quaint little town, - ready for the taking but that will come for another day. The ship must press on.
Now me ‘arties ‘tis the end of this 7th edition of Message in a Bottle and Christmas time is nigh. Magic is approaching Pittwater, her home for a couple of weeks while the cap’n goes racing and the wench discovers what Tassie shops have to offer. After which we is all off to Tassie for another little adventure all round the isle. Happy Christmas and a jolly New Year to you all. Have an exciting and safe break.
Stay tuned for the next Message in Bottle coming to your email address shortly. Incidentally, in keeping with the latest trends in privacy legislation we have sold all of your email addresses to a portly gentleman with dark glasses and white shoes. He assures us that it will be “OK mate, no worries” so you should shortly receive, what was it Brooksy, oh I cannot remember.
Unfortunately, while all the cards and letters in our mail bag keep coming we will keep writing. I think we have received at least one. Anyhow, those of you who wish to no longer receive Message in a Bottle, change your address. Go on just try it. We will track you down. No matter where.
Appy Christmas and a Jolly New Year. HO HO HO
The Capt’n and crew of the good ship Magic
Ganghook and The Wench
Magic in Cape Country
Ah me little ‘arties, it’s Christmas time and the Captain and his wench are here to bid you a hearty Christmas and a Tankard of best ale of a New Year. The next searingly exciting version of Message in a Bottle is coming your way. As it is the season to be jolly, especially for pirates, as well as those left to carry the burden of working, we suggest you get yourself a nice little champers darlings, to help you follow our little adventure.
You may remember that we left you at Lizard Island promising to reveal all sorts of nonsense about natives and undiscovered bodies. Before we get to that dear reader, we must tell you about our visit to the Cod Hole on the reef and tracing Cooks footsteps to the top of what is quaintly called Cook’s Look. The Cod Hole was a fantastic experience for us both and to amplify our pleasure we took hostages from Lizard Island. David and Kris our two comrades in arms from Taipan.
The variety and diversity of fish on the reef were a sight to behold. We spent hours snorkelling around the edge of the reef and saw hundreds of colourful fish and coral in all shapes and sizes, from double headed Maori wrasse` 3 feet long potato cod bigger than Daun, to delightful little clown fish just like Nemo. The captain took his underwater camera and managed to get a couple of photos of water with unrecognisable fish a looong way away, as well a snaps of his hand, the bottom of the boat and other miscellaneous objects. We were lucky as the day before we had visited the Lizard Island GBR research station which provided us with the truth about the dreaded crown of thorns star fish, of which there were none at the cod hole or at Lizard. Our snorkelling trip to the cod hole was preceded by a swim around the clam garden adjacent to the anchorage on Lizard. This well named coral patch is home to dozens of giant clams in all the colours of the rainbows. Some of the shells were more than a metre in length and looked to be in excellent condition. Not that we knew what clam tasted like but, we do know that Captain Jim’s crew consumed plenty with turtle as a side dish.
The following day we climbed to the top of Cook’s Look, the 350 metre peak on the north end of the island to see what there was to see. The view was amazing and although Jim was there for some hours you will be pleased to hear that he only left his foot prints and neglected to sign the visitors book.
Now cast your mind back a few days to our promise of bodies and fierce natives. During our passage from the tip of Cape York to Lizard Island we discovered Forbes and Morris Island. Forbes was our first truly tropical island with clear warm water, high peaks, colourful coral and waving coconut palms. We arrived at sunset and rowed to the shore to celebrate our success under a palm. The next day the buxom wench and Capt Ganghook explored the whole island and found the remains of a farm house, a well and engine shed. A grave on the island from 1923 marks the passage of time and the dashed hopes of a young man. The windward side of this National Park island was cluttered with enough plastic bottles, rubber thongs, and other detritus including an old fridge washed up on the shore to keep Ian Kiernan, our Clean Up Oz guru, going for a few weeks. We reluctantly left Forbes for our next anchorage on our passage south.
Morris Island was a must stop for us as it harboured hundreds of cooing Torres Strait Pigeons which commute daily to the mainland to feed, returning in waves at dusk. The island itself was small and we took possession after a mere 30 minutes circumnavigation. During our walk we discovered turtle tracks, small light spotted rays in the shallows, a number of small coconut palms, thousands of birds from the ubiquitous pigeon to a pair of white bellied sea eagles and a flock of pelicans, a grave marked with dozens of coloured plastic bottles, bouys and some anchor chain. All the while the stout heart of the island protected by a fearsome species of plant with very spiky leaves. Even the dogged nesting turtle had trouble penetrating the barrier presented by this piercing plant. We snorkelled with the last of the sunlight and repaired to the beach for a sundowner and pondered on the origin of the plant species.
After the complete tour of Lizard Island, Magic in convoy with Taipan, headed for Cooktown where we did what all good sailors do. We ate at the RSL and said “never again”. Amazing scenes of the ground covered with ripe mangoes under all the street trees planted by the hundreds last century. We visited the museum and the botanic gardens and found the town still under the spell of Cook who you will recall repaired his ship on the beach after falling foul of Endeavour reef. The museum is a beautiful C19 convent abandoned after WW2 and restored in the 70's with funds from the locals and, wait for it, the Bjelke Peterson government.
With another James Cook book under our arm and we departed Cooktown for east Hope Island where we swam without fear of crocs and enjoyed a sundowner on the beach whilst swapping tales with other passing yachties. The next day we headed for Cape Tribulation, anchored and took a walk around some of the famous rainforest.
From Cape Tribulation to Yorkeys Knob the crews of Magic & Taipan lead by the very handsome yet fearless Captain Ganghook made preparations to plunder the town of Cairns. Their plan was to stealthily stalk the outskirts and scope the surrounding area. Plunder by day, party all night. Seven days at Yorkeys Knob saw the plan come to fruition. A party was assembled, the pirates made their way to the vulnerable town of Cairns, the men folk armed with tape measures and tools headed for the industrial area, all the whilst the wench and her companion made a full blown attack on the city centre, not a hairdresser or shoe store was safe, with wallets flying and handbags swinging the women folk of the crew demanded respect (the kind only money can buy), not a bar or eatery was safe, the unremorseful crew paid no mercy to the Queenslanders. Next, a celebratory trip on the sky rail up to Karundra was enjoyed, the market place and even more shoe stores were held at purse point, the mighty warriors of the two Galleons were now starting to show signs of fatigue the plundering of Cairns and surrounding areas had to come to an end.
The crew of Magic was briefed and the next leg of the voyage had to be made post haste, not a moment to spare, the much publicised rendezvous on the shores of NSW with the sleek sloop “Santana” and the vast fleet bound for the distant city of Hobart was perilously close. The day of reckoning for us was looming. After 14 days and 14 nights the tired and mostly wet crew sailed by Coffs Harbour only 200 mile to go to get to Old Sydney Town. A few stops were made along the way, Nare Inlet on Hook Island – Whitsundays, Hamilton Island, Brampton Island then Bundaberg, spirits were raised and the voyage continued. From Bundaberg further south to Hervey Bay a sail with the wind abaft the beam thru the Great Sandy Straight passed Fraser Island to Tin Can Bay. Here the battle with the wind and currents hindered the passage over the Wide Bay Bar, 3 metre swells, adverse winds and rain fell upon the crew, (visualise Scuffy the Tug Boat in a washing machine). Teeth were clenched harnesses were tethered the crew were on full alert. Once over the bar Magic and her crew withstood the trials of squally winds, thunder and lightning mixed with heavy rain, sanctuary was taken at Iluka NSW – very quaint little town, - ready for the taking but that will come for another day. The ship must press on.
Now me ‘arties ‘tis the end of this 7th edition of Message in a Bottle and Christmas time is nigh. Magic is approaching Pittwater, her home for a couple of weeks while the cap’n goes racing and the wench discovers what Tassie shops have to offer. After which we is all off to Tassie for another little adventure all round the isle. Happy Christmas and a jolly New Year to you all. Have an exciting and safe break.
Stay tuned for the next Message in Bottle coming to your email address shortly. Incidentally, in keeping with the latest trends in privacy legislation we have sold all of your email addresses to a portly gentleman with dark glasses and white shoes. He assures us that it will be “OK mate, no worries” so you should shortly receive, what was it Brooksy, oh I cannot remember.
Unfortunately, while all the cards and letters in our mail bag keep coming we will keep writing. I think we have received at least one. Anyhow, those of you who wish to no longer receive Message in a Bottle, change your address. Go on just try it. We will track you down. No matter where.
Appy Christmas and a Jolly New Year. HO HO HO
The Capt’n and crew of the good ship Magic
Ganghook and The Wench
Message in a Bottle - Magic at the Top End September 2004
Magic at the Top End
Ok. Here we go, take 5 mins to make your coffee, then sit back relax and transport yourself on board the good ship “Magic”
13th September 2004
Just when you thought it was safe to enter the water, “the crew are back”. Darwin oh what an oasis, the trees are weighed down with Mango’s, the air is filled with the sweet perfume of Frangipannis and the folk are friendly. Not to mention the Cullen Bay Marina full of restaurants, laundromats and marine shops, hmmm shear luxury, the gallery wench went on strike, the Captain a shopping frenzy.
The crew enjoyed their day of shore leave, 1st stop a 8 km cycle on our trusty treddleys to the local swimming pool, where we enjoyed much dreamt of work out, this was the very 1st of our commitments we purchased a 30 swim pass – you know that that means ? Yup an 8km ride there and back and a 1.5 km swim everyday before the day even begins. Next the crew visit the local ale houses and feasting at the Mindell Beach Markets. Alas, alak, there is work to be done, it’s all hands on deck, Magic is going on the hard. Ganghook has given the orders the ship must to be scrubbed and anti-fouled, a larger skin fitting is to be put on the hull, a new beaut (deck wash – to aid in the clean up after all the mighty fish have been caught) is to be fitted. The freezer is to be rewired and moved to midships her stern is too heavy, (it’s a girl thing). The list is endless; the old sea dog denies the crew more shore leave until the work is done. Bernard’s future on the good ship is in jeopardy, he has to be removed and put through his paces at the local marine electronics workshop. The anchor winch is destined for a watery grave if a replacement can be begged borrowed or stolen. All the while, the crew wait in earnest for the good ship Taipan (which has been on a scouting party) to join them and make ready for the next leg of the journey.
20th September
Tempers are fraying. The workmen have refused to come onto the boat due to some sort of Darwin time thing, (NT Time – Not now Not tomorrow). Low spirited wasters the lot of them. Slowly we get the skilled artisans of the town to knuckle down to the job at hand. Chris the electrician orders a new alternator and “smart” regulator for delivery and fitting next week. Bob the electronics “expert” is working hard on a million other things and will have time tomorrow at 4 pm or “…I’ll call you, promise”. Another promise gone. The anchor winch drive motor has had a drink of the saline stuff and is stuffed, says Ian the auto lekky. I order another with an 11mm drive from Brisbane by “overnight” on Wednesday. A nice new 14mm drive motor arrives on the following Monday. Run around like a blue assed fly to find a local turner who does the job and Ian fits it all back together again with new cables. Tuesday is fitting day. Anchor winch, alternator, watermaker, and even Bob of the false promises has the new rudder sensor for Bernard. The Full Monty. Suddenly, everything works. For a while anyway, you know boats.
24th September
The work is done; the crew take a well earned break, a bus tour to Litchfield National Park. 1st stop is the Termite Mounds, to view the terrible awe that a few million ants can wreak on tree and grasslands. Buttressed castles and magnetic mounds as well as the odd meat ant pile abound on the flood plains.
Next stop to the Wangi falls where we are to have lunch and a nice gentle swim in the hot and cold torrid water falls. A well trod path awaits us to this natural feature and suddenly we are among the tourists. Swaggering Germans, pale Pommies, blond Hollanders and a million others rub shoulders with the dinki di’s in the water. We find a small deep pool a short climb up the slope and have a number of instant friends. A young bloke with long platted hair (maybe he has been to Bali) dives into the big pool and it’s on for young and old. His mates all have to have a go as well.
Lunch was magnificent. Prawns, smoked salmon, garden salad with rocket, fresh bread, shaved turkey and ham and more prawns. After lunch we drove to Florence Falls which is a spectacular leap from the top into deep, deep water. Here there are the usual hundreds clicking away with us. Oohing and ahhing at the clarity of the water even though the toilets are a mile away….. Later at Buley Cascades we cooled down from the exertions of lunch and Florence falls before heading for Adelaide River the home of the smiling crocodile. There is no doubt in my mind these creatures are killers and they all should be put down at birth. Forget about natural systems, and food chains. We know they are at the top. Look how they smile when presented with a hunk of Buff in a bit of string.
Homeward bound after a fantastic day to sunset champagne over Fanny Bay with the remainder of the prawns that we didn’t eat at lunchtime. The punishment is now worse than the crime. Eat up me hearties and we are driven back to the Marina. The Marina full of beckoning cafes and restraunts. Not tonight Charlie Brown.
Our next mission was to stake out the Military Museum, what an eye opener; we had no Idea Darwin had been the recipient of so many bombing raids, with such little defence. Up and onward we move through the town, to Parliament House and the library, then from there a little spiritual healing at the Chinese Temple, so ornate and well I guess one could say “original” A lot of dust. After some soul searching we moved onto the NT Museum and Art Gallery which is full of aboriginal art - so much talent – so little recognition. The Maritime display was wonderful in its breadth of displayed craft from the region and a very educational experience. There is a vast array of different sized Indonesian fishing boats all very crudely built, but nevertheless did the job. Magic looks like a regular Liner in comparison.
After such a big day out the weary crew make for the closest watering hole – “The Ducks Nuts” cold beer and the blues, the Buxom Wench was so inspired, a Harmonica was purchased and a promise, nay threat of private concerts onboard Magic was declared. To answer the challenge by the Wench the Captain decided he could no longer put off playing the clarinet, an instrument he had long admired the sounds of so promptly embarked on a mission to find a suitable instrument. Can you imagine them both together?
The Captain and his Wench are delighted when they met up with old sea fairing chums from Kalbarri, Mike & Linda Moore. Much food and wine is shared at the Yacht Club and stories are swapped, after which Mike & Linda head of to explore Kakadu. Meanwhile the Magic crew along with Taipan make ready for their departure, provisions are loaded the crews are loaded and the spirits are high, we are heading out to the wild blue yonder.
2nd October
And we’re of and racing, the two mighty galleons sail of into the sunset, a cruise down the Adelaide River on route to Cape Don. The day was calm not a breath of air only the haunting sounds of the Buxom Wench’s harmonica could be heard, all is well in the world. Or is it? Suddenly as we are gliding past Cape Don the pace changes. The seas are a torrent of overfalls and whirlpools and the reefs are beckoning. All hands on deck the sun is setting fast, the tides are rushing past. Magic is going through her paces but no ground is made, the fearless Captain is on the helm, the very brave and talented wench is on the bow (front of the boat – the dangerous bit) eyes are peeled for boondies and shallows, sweat is running. Magic is tossed this way and that the wench hangs on, the captain has gone to battle with the seas, “Carpe Diem” he must seize the day. Finally at 1am the battle fatigued crew drop anchor at Popam Bay and are greeted by an excited and worried crew from Taipan, a midnight feast is had and the night is revisited. Food, wine and finally bed is calling. The crew wake to see yet another day in paradise.
The next leg of our journey takes us to Port Essington, where ruins of the British Victoria Settlement can still be seen. The site was 1st settled in 1839 it was only established for 10 years. Many buildings are still standing the camera was working overtime so much to see, so little to do! By now Taipan and Magic have established a plan – the first catch of the day is the place for dinner, this works well for both the galley wenches, the night meals are alternated between boats and stories are swapped of the days events. Onward we sailed slowly winding our way towards Gove. The anchorages along the way are wonderful, the bays and islands are so welcoming, soft white sandy shores, the vegetation has changed so much as we venture further North/East, it is greener, higher, softer to touch and more verdant. The crews weight anchor for the night at Raragala Island a bonfire is build, hair cuts are had , a swim is enjoyed , oh the cool crystal clear water is so inviting , frolicking on the beach is the life for these little sailors, the BBQ is going off. A lot of talk is had that night as the excitement builds for on the morrow the 2 ships along with Forte are going through “The hole in the wall” before traversing the final 45 miles to Gove.
“Hole in the Wall” – Not ATM, Not Old English Pub, (fast running, very turbulent rushing water way rushing between to small islands around 500m wide) breathtaking stuff.
10th October
Gove” – small Alumina mining and processing town with a population of around 4000, 3999 appear to be indigenous non-workers. Lucky for us we arrived on pension day, the shopping centre was a hive of activity, there is a sign at the entrance of the centre stating “No Drinking No humbugging” This posed a serious problem for the two ships crews, as non of us were sure if we were able to enter, we certainly had been drinking the night before and as for Humbugging we didn’t know if we did that or not, or if indeed we enjoyed it!
We stayed in Gove for 2 days and nights resting up for the next leg of our journey around the Cape – Cape York that is.
While completing our R & R at the Gove yacht club we discovered that the word was out on a prawn trawler in the Gulf. Apparently fresh prawns, bugs, and scallops were available for the first yacht there with supplies of rum and smokes. The race was on. Starting promptly at daybreak, about 10 am, Magic slipped her mooring and headed out of the harbour. Taipan was not far behind. With light and fickle conditions the two ships ghosted down the coast. During the early hours of the morning a rain squall put the cat among the pigeons and both ships wore away to the south. Eventually through the pouring rain the trawler is found and brought to anchor by the gallant Taipan crew who muddle the minds the fishermen with rum and smoke. After much parlaying, the Taipan crew manage to escape with their lives if not their livers, with a seafood feast for both crews.
With the body’s, fridge & freezers fully stocked the convoy continues for 3 long days and 3 even longer nights across the Gulf , a windless Gulf at that, the crew go about there business 3 hour watches are established, the music lessons continue and Magic slowly makes her way to the Queensland coast.
22 October 4am
Land Ahoy! There are distant lights, Seisia; a small community is in sight. The exhausted crew drop anchor for a few hours sleep before stepping foot on Queensland soil. The next morning we moved to a more appropriate anchorage and went ashore with the crew of Taipan who eventually caught up with us after an eventful passage through the shoals to the west of the Cape. We refuelled at the local BP servo and gathered water at the dockside for Taipan. On Friday evening we went to the local fishing club for a BBQ and gathered essential information about the local fishing customs.
25 October
A fresh sou-easter welcomed us to FNQ and blew us to a stop at Escape River, where, with several other sailors, we rested for a few days awaiting a change in the weather. As we entered the river we were “boarded” by a combined force of Qld police, customs, quarantine agents, reps from the GBR Marine Park Authority and a variety of other federal and state agencies mounted astride fast “commando style” aluminium boats powered by twin 90 hp outboards. These groups were launched from a Customs mother ship which was hovering about 5 miles from the river mouth.
While at Escape River we enjoyed black lipped mussels and mangrove jacks on the BBQ. On the third day Magic and Taipan made sail for the south but were blown back into Escape River by a vigorous SE trade wind. We finally broke free of the river on the fourth day and headed for Lizard Island, the pearl of the Barrier Reef and the saviour of Jim Cook’s famous navigation adventures on the Aussie coast, following his grounding on Endeavour Reef. Stay tuned for more fantastic, piratical adventures from Capt Ganghook and the Buxom Wench on Magic. The next episode will detail the confrontation with the natives on Morris Island and the finding of an unexplained body on Forbes Island. Fresh coconuts are now King in Brooksy’s galley. Find out more in the next spell-binding episode of Message in a Bottle available at your local newsagent in December or if you are really lucky by direct subscription to magic.com. Cheers. Crew of Magic.
Ok. Here we go, take 5 mins to make your coffee, then sit back relax and transport yourself on board the good ship “Magic”
13th September 2004
Just when you thought it was safe to enter the water, “the crew are back”. Darwin oh what an oasis, the trees are weighed down with Mango’s, the air is filled with the sweet perfume of Frangipannis and the folk are friendly. Not to mention the Cullen Bay Marina full of restaurants, laundromats and marine shops, hmmm shear luxury, the gallery wench went on strike, the Captain a shopping frenzy.
The crew enjoyed their day of shore leave, 1st stop a 8 km cycle on our trusty treddleys to the local swimming pool, where we enjoyed much dreamt of work out, this was the very 1st of our commitments we purchased a 30 swim pass – you know that that means ? Yup an 8km ride there and back and a 1.5 km swim everyday before the day even begins. Next the crew visit the local ale houses and feasting at the Mindell Beach Markets. Alas, alak, there is work to be done, it’s all hands on deck, Magic is going on the hard. Ganghook has given the orders the ship must to be scrubbed and anti-fouled, a larger skin fitting is to be put on the hull, a new beaut (deck wash – to aid in the clean up after all the mighty fish have been caught) is to be fitted. The freezer is to be rewired and moved to midships her stern is too heavy, (it’s a girl thing). The list is endless; the old sea dog denies the crew more shore leave until the work is done. Bernard’s future on the good ship is in jeopardy, he has to be removed and put through his paces at the local marine electronics workshop. The anchor winch is destined for a watery grave if a replacement can be begged borrowed or stolen. All the while, the crew wait in earnest for the good ship Taipan (which has been on a scouting party) to join them and make ready for the next leg of the journey.
20th September
Tempers are fraying. The workmen have refused to come onto the boat due to some sort of Darwin time thing, (NT Time – Not now Not tomorrow). Low spirited wasters the lot of them. Slowly we get the skilled artisans of the town to knuckle down to the job at hand. Chris the electrician orders a new alternator and “smart” regulator for delivery and fitting next week. Bob the electronics “expert” is working hard on a million other things and will have time tomorrow at 4 pm or “…I’ll call you, promise”. Another promise gone. The anchor winch drive motor has had a drink of the saline stuff and is stuffed, says Ian the auto lekky. I order another with an 11mm drive from Brisbane by “overnight” on Wednesday. A nice new 14mm drive motor arrives on the following Monday. Run around like a blue assed fly to find a local turner who does the job and Ian fits it all back together again with new cables. Tuesday is fitting day. Anchor winch, alternator, watermaker, and even Bob of the false promises has the new rudder sensor for Bernard. The Full Monty. Suddenly, everything works. For a while anyway, you know boats.
24th September
The work is done; the crew take a well earned break, a bus tour to Litchfield National Park. 1st stop is the Termite Mounds, to view the terrible awe that a few million ants can wreak on tree and grasslands. Buttressed castles and magnetic mounds as well as the odd meat ant pile abound on the flood plains.
Next stop to the Wangi falls where we are to have lunch and a nice gentle swim in the hot and cold torrid water falls. A well trod path awaits us to this natural feature and suddenly we are among the tourists. Swaggering Germans, pale Pommies, blond Hollanders and a million others rub shoulders with the dinki di’s in the water. We find a small deep pool a short climb up the slope and have a number of instant friends. A young bloke with long platted hair (maybe he has been to Bali) dives into the big pool and it’s on for young and old. His mates all have to have a go as well.
Lunch was magnificent. Prawns, smoked salmon, garden salad with rocket, fresh bread, shaved turkey and ham and more prawns. After lunch we drove to Florence Falls which is a spectacular leap from the top into deep, deep water. Here there are the usual hundreds clicking away with us. Oohing and ahhing at the clarity of the water even though the toilets are a mile away….. Later at Buley Cascades we cooled down from the exertions of lunch and Florence falls before heading for Adelaide River the home of the smiling crocodile. There is no doubt in my mind these creatures are killers and they all should be put down at birth. Forget about natural systems, and food chains. We know they are at the top. Look how they smile when presented with a hunk of Buff in a bit of string.
Homeward bound after a fantastic day to sunset champagne over Fanny Bay with the remainder of the prawns that we didn’t eat at lunchtime. The punishment is now worse than the crime. Eat up me hearties and we are driven back to the Marina. The Marina full of beckoning cafes and restraunts. Not tonight Charlie Brown.
Our next mission was to stake out the Military Museum, what an eye opener; we had no Idea Darwin had been the recipient of so many bombing raids, with such little defence. Up and onward we move through the town, to Parliament House and the library, then from there a little spiritual healing at the Chinese Temple, so ornate and well I guess one could say “original” A lot of dust. After some soul searching we moved onto the NT Museum and Art Gallery which is full of aboriginal art - so much talent – so little recognition. The Maritime display was wonderful in its breadth of displayed craft from the region and a very educational experience. There is a vast array of different sized Indonesian fishing boats all very crudely built, but nevertheless did the job. Magic looks like a regular Liner in comparison.
After such a big day out the weary crew make for the closest watering hole – “The Ducks Nuts” cold beer and the blues, the Buxom Wench was so inspired, a Harmonica was purchased and a promise, nay threat of private concerts onboard Magic was declared. To answer the challenge by the Wench the Captain decided he could no longer put off playing the clarinet, an instrument he had long admired the sounds of so promptly embarked on a mission to find a suitable instrument. Can you imagine them both together?
The Captain and his Wench are delighted when they met up with old sea fairing chums from Kalbarri, Mike & Linda Moore. Much food and wine is shared at the Yacht Club and stories are swapped, after which Mike & Linda head of to explore Kakadu. Meanwhile the Magic crew along with Taipan make ready for their departure, provisions are loaded the crews are loaded and the spirits are high, we are heading out to the wild blue yonder.
2nd October
And we’re of and racing, the two mighty galleons sail of into the sunset, a cruise down the Adelaide River on route to Cape Don. The day was calm not a breath of air only the haunting sounds of the Buxom Wench’s harmonica could be heard, all is well in the world. Or is it? Suddenly as we are gliding past Cape Don the pace changes. The seas are a torrent of overfalls and whirlpools and the reefs are beckoning. All hands on deck the sun is setting fast, the tides are rushing past. Magic is going through her paces but no ground is made, the fearless Captain is on the helm, the very brave and talented wench is on the bow (front of the boat – the dangerous bit) eyes are peeled for boondies and shallows, sweat is running. Magic is tossed this way and that the wench hangs on, the captain has gone to battle with the seas, “Carpe Diem” he must seize the day. Finally at 1am the battle fatigued crew drop anchor at Popam Bay and are greeted by an excited and worried crew from Taipan, a midnight feast is had and the night is revisited. Food, wine and finally bed is calling. The crew wake to see yet another day in paradise.
The next leg of our journey takes us to Port Essington, where ruins of the British Victoria Settlement can still be seen. The site was 1st settled in 1839 it was only established for 10 years. Many buildings are still standing the camera was working overtime so much to see, so little to do! By now Taipan and Magic have established a plan – the first catch of the day is the place for dinner, this works well for both the galley wenches, the night meals are alternated between boats and stories are swapped of the days events. Onward we sailed slowly winding our way towards Gove. The anchorages along the way are wonderful, the bays and islands are so welcoming, soft white sandy shores, the vegetation has changed so much as we venture further North/East, it is greener, higher, softer to touch and more verdant. The crews weight anchor for the night at Raragala Island a bonfire is build, hair cuts are had , a swim is enjoyed , oh the cool crystal clear water is so inviting , frolicking on the beach is the life for these little sailors, the BBQ is going off. A lot of talk is had that night as the excitement builds for on the morrow the 2 ships along with Forte are going through “The hole in the wall” before traversing the final 45 miles to Gove.
“Hole in the Wall” – Not ATM, Not Old English Pub, (fast running, very turbulent rushing water way rushing between to small islands around 500m wide) breathtaking stuff.
10th October
Gove” – small Alumina mining and processing town with a population of around 4000, 3999 appear to be indigenous non-workers. Lucky for us we arrived on pension day, the shopping centre was a hive of activity, there is a sign at the entrance of the centre stating “No Drinking No humbugging” This posed a serious problem for the two ships crews, as non of us were sure if we were able to enter, we certainly had been drinking the night before and as for Humbugging we didn’t know if we did that or not, or if indeed we enjoyed it!
We stayed in Gove for 2 days and nights resting up for the next leg of our journey around the Cape – Cape York that is.
While completing our R & R at the Gove yacht club we discovered that the word was out on a prawn trawler in the Gulf. Apparently fresh prawns, bugs, and scallops were available for the first yacht there with supplies of rum and smokes. The race was on. Starting promptly at daybreak, about 10 am, Magic slipped her mooring and headed out of the harbour. Taipan was not far behind. With light and fickle conditions the two ships ghosted down the coast. During the early hours of the morning a rain squall put the cat among the pigeons and both ships wore away to the south. Eventually through the pouring rain the trawler is found and brought to anchor by the gallant Taipan crew who muddle the minds the fishermen with rum and smoke. After much parlaying, the Taipan crew manage to escape with their lives if not their livers, with a seafood feast for both crews.
With the body’s, fridge & freezers fully stocked the convoy continues for 3 long days and 3 even longer nights across the Gulf , a windless Gulf at that, the crew go about there business 3 hour watches are established, the music lessons continue and Magic slowly makes her way to the Queensland coast.
22 October 4am
Land Ahoy! There are distant lights, Seisia; a small community is in sight. The exhausted crew drop anchor for a few hours sleep before stepping foot on Queensland soil. The next morning we moved to a more appropriate anchorage and went ashore with the crew of Taipan who eventually caught up with us after an eventful passage through the shoals to the west of the Cape. We refuelled at the local BP servo and gathered water at the dockside for Taipan. On Friday evening we went to the local fishing club for a BBQ and gathered essential information about the local fishing customs.
25 October
A fresh sou-easter welcomed us to FNQ and blew us to a stop at Escape River, where, with several other sailors, we rested for a few days awaiting a change in the weather. As we entered the river we were “boarded” by a combined force of Qld police, customs, quarantine agents, reps from the GBR Marine Park Authority and a variety of other federal and state agencies mounted astride fast “commando style” aluminium boats powered by twin 90 hp outboards. These groups were launched from a Customs mother ship which was hovering about 5 miles from the river mouth.
While at Escape River we enjoyed black lipped mussels and mangrove jacks on the BBQ. On the third day Magic and Taipan made sail for the south but were blown back into Escape River by a vigorous SE trade wind. We finally broke free of the river on the fourth day and headed for Lizard Island, the pearl of the Barrier Reef and the saviour of Jim Cook’s famous navigation adventures on the Aussie coast, following his grounding on Endeavour Reef. Stay tuned for more fantastic, piratical adventures from Capt Ganghook and the Buxom Wench on Magic. The next episode will detail the confrontation with the natives on Morris Island and the finding of an unexplained body on Forbes Island. Fresh coconuts are now King in Brooksy’s galley. Find out more in the next spell-binding episode of Message in a Bottle available at your local newsagent in December or if you are really lucky by direct subscription to magic.com. Cheers. Crew of Magic.
Message in a Bottle - A whole lot of Magic August 2004
Hi guys, we have been in the Kimberleys for the past 6 weeks cruising the Coast line and outlaying islands we have seen and done so much which we would love to share with you however I shall condense this email for you, as we are sure you don’t have a spare 6 weeks to read it. Here Goes:
A whole lot of Magic: 4th August 2004 to 13th September 04
The sails are set and the mighty “Magic” crew are ready for the high seas once again, after a very busy 2 weeks in Broome (Broome time that is!). The whales are plentiful and so are the pearl farms, ducking and weaving we make our way to Cape Leveque, via Coulomb Point, Beagle Bay – where the Captain landed a 3kg Golden Trevally the 1st fish we had had in weeks yummo! The night was full of romance filled with sounds of turtles gasping for air and dugongs snorting, very tranquil! Then of to Thomas Bay, what a day trip that was, we were doing what all competent sailors do, head down heavily involved in our latest novels, when suddenly we hear the loudest whoosh ever, a whale was trying to read over my shoulder, actually I think she was reading it to her calf, they were so close, what a fright we all got. Then we arrived at Cape Laveque where there is a caravan park and a very upmarket Tent Land, they are build up on timber poles throughout the bush standing about 12 feet in the air, to enable them to have a perfect view of the surrounding oceans and bushland – not quite the same as good old Rotto. Our anchorage was very rollie not a lot of sleep was had, the crew were very eager to be off to Coppermine Creek, now that was an island, The Wench gave Ganghook a hair cut on the beach with one eye on his ear and the other on the surrounding (not to be seen) crocks. Then a mammoth walk up to the top of the mountain, fighting our way threw trees and bushland, the wench kept a visual our for snakes, pirates, and numerous other terrifying creatures, all the while hanging on for dear life to the pants of her Brave Captain, the Wench does Not Do Bush! We moved on to Crocodile Creek for a couple of days layover the scenery was magnificent we frolicked under the waterfall and played in the pools the fresh water was pure heaven .. We met up with Forte, Scuttlebug and a new boat on the block, Taipan we all indulged in wine and food and got tell tales of our adventures, then made our way down to Silver Gull (Squatters Arms) where Phil and Marian are the resident squatters, they set up camp in Silver Gull some 8 years. More fresh water was available, a huge water tank called “The Snake Pit” 2000 Lts of water passes through every our, we managed to cram 12 adults and 2 kids in, drinking and telling all sorts of tales it was great, we spent 2 days there getting very water logged then moved onto Raft Point, there are some wonderful Aboriginal paintings up in the caves, there is a well worn track to make the discovery much easier. From Raft Point we moved on to the Prince Regent River via, Hope Point, Sampson Inlet, and Denis Bay , the fishing had dropped of only sharks were feeding so fishing was abandoned and Roast Beef was on the menu. We spent almost a week exploring the delights of the River system once again the scenery was fantastic we came upon a little oasis of Pandanus Palm way up the top of a hill with a view to be shared as we have tried to do via our postcards. From Prince Regent River we sailed to Biggie Island, Jarr Island where there were some excellent Bradshaw Paintings then on to Freshwater Bay, and so on we sailed to more glorious uninhabited islands until we came to the highlight of the Kimberleys. The King George River, the water was fast the falls were plentiful cascading down the steep rock faces what a beautiful sight, we nosed Magic right up to the falls then pulled back and anchored about 400 mts away, launched “A little Magic” (newly named dingy) into the water and headed for the falls, we held her under the falls and filled her up to the brim, washing our cloths our body’s and her, we were like a couple of kids squealing with delight the water was so cold and so fresh absolute bliss. Then we took another trip to the falls and refilled the dingy to return back to Magic and fill her water tanks and give our beloved Magic a much needed freshwater bath. Our next mission was to climb up to the top of the falls, something that looked rather out of my league, being scared of heights and all, the Captain urged on the wench, foot by foot until we were at the top 50mtrs up. Breathlessly we looked down and out what a view Magic anchored in the middle of the Basin only the sounds of the wild could be heard. The pools above the falls were so cool and inviting we soaped up shampooed and frolicked about for the afternoon, enjoyed our chicken sandwiches and beers until the sun began to fall then made our way down to the rivers edge. We moved further along the river to anchor for the night and were mesmerised by the illumination of the water, we watched for hours, and yes we were seeing things feasting on wine and BBQ fish, the river was alight with phosphoresce moving up the river to the falls, something like the night sky had fallen and all the stars were in the river twinkling and dancing to the sound of night birds. That was a truly magical night.
After King George River we headed for the Berkley River – as the story goes this is the peace de résistance of the Kimberley’s. We were not disappointed the water was so blue and clear, the beaches were as white as snow and the falls were gently flowing showers, with a fresh water stream meandering amidst pools filled with water lilies and small fish, feeding the falls. We swam for the 1st time in months lazed around on the well washed rocks and showered under the falls. Then to our astonishment discovered we were covered in what at first we thought were leaches, oooowww!!!! We managed to relieve ourselves of our new crawly friends and made our way back on board to magic after a long walk on the beach arms laden with shells and two very tired little sailors. Our next adventure was one we would choose not to replay, Picture this “ Two little lone sailors winding down a narrow muddy creek the wench on the bow keeping a watchful eye on the wild life, when we came upon a rock ledge 3mts high with a very large croc basking in the sun, the wench want to see more but fear keeps them away, the captain moves cautiously threw the water all eyes peeled, the coast is clear or is it? The crew make there way to the end of the creek, not much to see here so a retreat is underway to the safety of Magic, when out of the blue the very large croc on the rock sees us and make a very fast very ungraceful plunge into the water, the captain pulls on the throttle, the wench is firmly planted in the middle of “a little magic” and they are heading for the hills all caution to the wind, the creek is abound with rocks and tree logs, missed by inches on the way up stream, only the crew are now racing from danger BANG! BANG! Bang! a rock is hit the steering is lost the motor slows, the croc is still in pursuit a squeal from the wench a #@%!# from the captain and the crew are under control and back on track for the mother ship, these little sailors were not on the menu for old man croc today.
4am an early start with Darwin in our sights, the captain and his wench are now laying bets for Pints of Guinness civilization is only days away. After 3 days of slight to little wind the crew arrive in Darwin, The Cullen Bay Marina, of all the sights we have experienced over the past 6 weeks the most welcoming was 2 ice cold Pints of G and a basket of Hot Crispy Wedges. Now that’s Magic!
A whole lot of Magic: 4th August 2004 to 13th September 04
The sails are set and the mighty “Magic” crew are ready for the high seas once again, after a very busy 2 weeks in Broome (Broome time that is!). The whales are plentiful and so are the pearl farms, ducking and weaving we make our way to Cape Leveque, via Coulomb Point, Beagle Bay – where the Captain landed a 3kg Golden Trevally the 1st fish we had had in weeks yummo! The night was full of romance filled with sounds of turtles gasping for air and dugongs snorting, very tranquil! Then of to Thomas Bay, what a day trip that was, we were doing what all competent sailors do, head down heavily involved in our latest novels, when suddenly we hear the loudest whoosh ever, a whale was trying to read over my shoulder, actually I think she was reading it to her calf, they were so close, what a fright we all got. Then we arrived at Cape Laveque where there is a caravan park and a very upmarket Tent Land, they are build up on timber poles throughout the bush standing about 12 feet in the air, to enable them to have a perfect view of the surrounding oceans and bushland – not quite the same as good old Rotto. Our anchorage was very rollie not a lot of sleep was had, the crew were very eager to be off to Coppermine Creek, now that was an island, The Wench gave Ganghook a hair cut on the beach with one eye on his ear and the other on the surrounding (not to be seen) crocks. Then a mammoth walk up to the top of the mountain, fighting our way threw trees and bushland, the wench kept a visual our for snakes, pirates, and numerous other terrifying creatures, all the while hanging on for dear life to the pants of her Brave Captain, the Wench does Not Do Bush! We moved on to Crocodile Creek for a couple of days layover the scenery was magnificent we frolicked under the waterfall and played in the pools the fresh water was pure heaven .. We met up with Forte, Scuttlebug and a new boat on the block, Taipan we all indulged in wine and food and got tell tales of our adventures, then made our way down to Silver Gull (Squatters Arms) where Phil and Marian are the resident squatters, they set up camp in Silver Gull some 8 years. More fresh water was available, a huge water tank called “The Snake Pit” 2000 Lts of water passes through every our, we managed to cram 12 adults and 2 kids in, drinking and telling all sorts of tales it was great, we spent 2 days there getting very water logged then moved onto Raft Point, there are some wonderful Aboriginal paintings up in the caves, there is a well worn track to make the discovery much easier. From Raft Point we moved on to the Prince Regent River via, Hope Point, Sampson Inlet, and Denis Bay , the fishing had dropped of only sharks were feeding so fishing was abandoned and Roast Beef was on the menu. We spent almost a week exploring the delights of the River system once again the scenery was fantastic we came upon a little oasis of Pandanus Palm way up the top of a hill with a view to be shared as we have tried to do via our postcards. From Prince Regent River we sailed to Biggie Island, Jarr Island where there were some excellent Bradshaw Paintings then on to Freshwater Bay, and so on we sailed to more glorious uninhabited islands until we came to the highlight of the Kimberleys. The King George River, the water was fast the falls were plentiful cascading down the steep rock faces what a beautiful sight, we nosed Magic right up to the falls then pulled back and anchored about 400 mts away, launched “A little Magic” (newly named dingy) into the water and headed for the falls, we held her under the falls and filled her up to the brim, washing our cloths our body’s and her, we were like a couple of kids squealing with delight the water was so cold and so fresh absolute bliss. Then we took another trip to the falls and refilled the dingy to return back to Magic and fill her water tanks and give our beloved Magic a much needed freshwater bath. Our next mission was to climb up to the top of the falls, something that looked rather out of my league, being scared of heights and all, the Captain urged on the wench, foot by foot until we were at the top 50mtrs up. Breathlessly we looked down and out what a view Magic anchored in the middle of the Basin only the sounds of the wild could be heard. The pools above the falls were so cool and inviting we soaped up shampooed and frolicked about for the afternoon, enjoyed our chicken sandwiches and beers until the sun began to fall then made our way down to the rivers edge. We moved further along the river to anchor for the night and were mesmerised by the illumination of the water, we watched for hours, and yes we were seeing things feasting on wine and BBQ fish, the river was alight with phosphoresce moving up the river to the falls, something like the night sky had fallen and all the stars were in the river twinkling and dancing to the sound of night birds. That was a truly magical night.
After King George River we headed for the Berkley River – as the story goes this is the peace de résistance of the Kimberley’s. We were not disappointed the water was so blue and clear, the beaches were as white as snow and the falls were gently flowing showers, with a fresh water stream meandering amidst pools filled with water lilies and small fish, feeding the falls. We swam for the 1st time in months lazed around on the well washed rocks and showered under the falls. Then to our astonishment discovered we were covered in what at first we thought were leaches, oooowww!!!! We managed to relieve ourselves of our new crawly friends and made our way back on board to magic after a long walk on the beach arms laden with shells and two very tired little sailors. Our next adventure was one we would choose not to replay, Picture this “ Two little lone sailors winding down a narrow muddy creek the wench on the bow keeping a watchful eye on the wild life, when we came upon a rock ledge 3mts high with a very large croc basking in the sun, the wench want to see more but fear keeps them away, the captain moves cautiously threw the water all eyes peeled, the coast is clear or is it? The crew make there way to the end of the creek, not much to see here so a retreat is underway to the safety of Magic, when out of the blue the very large croc on the rock sees us and make a very fast very ungraceful plunge into the water, the captain pulls on the throttle, the wench is firmly planted in the middle of “a little magic” and they are heading for the hills all caution to the wind, the creek is abound with rocks and tree logs, missed by inches on the way up stream, only the crew are now racing from danger BANG! BANG! Bang! a rock is hit the steering is lost the motor slows, the croc is still in pursuit a squeal from the wench a #@%!# from the captain and the crew are under control and back on track for the mother ship, these little sailors were not on the menu for old man croc today.
4am an early start with Darwin in our sights, the captain and his wench are now laying bets for Pints of Guinness civilization is only days away. After 3 days of slight to little wind the crew arrive in Darwin, The Cullen Bay Marina, of all the sights we have experienced over the past 6 weeks the most welcoming was 2 ice cold Pints of G and a basket of Hot Crispy Wedges. Now that’s Magic!
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