We spent several days in Brisbane at anchor and then moved to a marina. I wanted to trace the source of a slight water leak from the engine. I discovered that it was caused by a jubilee clip that was too big, once changed the leak stopped.  On Christmas Eve we left the marina and motored back to the site of our first anchorage at Bulimba. We then enjoyed the usual holiday fare with Charley's school friend Jennifer Wyatt. I had not had turkey for a few years so this was particularly well received. Every day was a party in one form or another.

The days passed quickly, it being summer, the holiday was taken seriously by the Australians; some businesses closed until the 11^th of January. To see the New Year in and be nearer to the city we moved further up river, the Brisbane river, not very original, and anchored just off the botanic gardens. We had to move a couple of times as an eddy during the ebb caused us to lie too close to the other yachts. At midnight the firework display erupted. I didn't watch, I don't think much of fireworks, but Charley did. 

Next day we motored back to Bulimba and anchored in the same place. During the passage we noticed how high the tide was, many of the riverside properties must be subject to flooding. We continued to act like tourists; we visited a Koala sanctuary which included many of the other uniquely Australian animals, like Kangaroos for example, also the maritime museum.

I sought a good rigger before Christmas, the starboard lower needed to be replaced. During the discussions with the owner of the company he pointed out that the wire used was not dyform but a cheaper alternative. I fitted the new stays made from the correct material, but then discovered that an intermediate had the same fault; again it was not made of dyform.   

The days continued to fly by, we discovered by chance that our visas were valid for only 90 days and that was about to pass, I checked online and managed to apply for an extension for another 90 days for both of us.

We had by then, had enough time to begin to understand the way Australians think and behave, it was an overwhelmingly positive experience, however one or two things made us laugh. It must be a rule, as it can't be a fashion, that out door working people wear high visibility clothing, obviously lots of people work outdoors so the number of people we saw wearing the same orange coloured shirt was large.  We both found the "Nanny" state a little hard to bear but after a while it became less intrusive, at least everything seems to work. In most of the countries we had visited we could detect something of a national pride in the people, Australia is the country where it is most appropriate.

I dealt with a considerable number of small jobs on the yacht; one of the most pleasing was changing the sump gasket, thereby curing an oil leak.

I complained by email to the rigger in Cape Town, who confirmed that I had specified and paid for dyform.

After several attempts I found some LED strip lights that were bright enough to read under so I replaced four halogen lights in the main cabin. The power saving was considerable. Surely boat builders must soon fit them as standard.

A few days before Charley's birthday the weather forecast was acceptable so we said our goodbyes and crept out of Brisbane. The sailing was good and the tide helpful but the big disappointment was that we had to sail 30 miles north across Moreton Bay before we could head out to sea and then turn south for Sydney. The gap between the islands was apparently too difficult, even so 60 miles is a long way to go to arrive at the starting point. The first night was very dark, low cloud and no moon. The wind from the east was around seventeen knots so our boat speed was good, the south flowing current at two knots made the distance to go figure reduce most agreeably. Almost three months of easy living in various marinas has made us a bit soft, most tasks seemed difficult in the choppy water. Sleeping in a lively yacht does not come easily; it is either a learned skill or you become so tired you sleep through anything.  We managed to get some rest despite being out of practice. The morning brought lighter winds and a smoother sea. The next day we rested a bit more as the conditions were easier, a weather forecast described southerly 20-30 knots in a few days so we began to look for a refuge. We were by then off New South Wales, there are plenty of small harbours along the coast but most of them have a sandy bar at their entrance and so cannot be entered in bad weather. We chose Coffs Harbour a picturesque spot, less tropical than Queensland. We entered at two am and found a marina, not mentioned on the chart, and even better still, an empty berth.

My visa extension application did not go as smoothly as I wished, I mistakenly mentioned that I had been in Thailand for more than three months, this meant I would require an X-ray to check for pneumonia, as apparently Thailand has a high occurrence of this illness. I pointed out that my three months was cumulative and not consecutive and appealed against the requirement.

Charley's Birthday, a big one, came while we were in Coffs Harbour, we celebrated fittingly. 

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By mid afternoon the wind was above fifteen knots but had backed enough to be quite deep. We continued to carry full sail, enjoying the extra speed. The sun set at six thirty leaving a clear sky with just over half the moon on show. The lights of Port Bundaberg soon began to glow. In common with other ports, the channel markers were perfectly lined up and all the lights of the same colour flashed in unison. The town itself was some ten miles up the river although there was a marina just inside the mouth of the river. The channel ran due east from the shore, our course was just east of south, but we could only join the channel at its easternmost point due to the shallow water, it was almost low tide. Just before we passed the first starboard mark we gybed and as we altered to starboard our apparent wind moved forward. We quickly reefed once and reduced the genoa to match. The huge lights were easy to follow and after the straight section we entered the river and altered slightly to port. It was by now gusting more than twenty knots so we reduced sail further. The marina we intended to visit was only a few hundred metres further on, but it was too windy to attempt a mooring in the dark, on the opposite side of the river all the best places seemed to be taken by other yachts already at anchor, so we searched for our own space, finally deciding on the best available. We were unable to lie to our full chain as there was not enough room to swing, the holding was good though.
 The yacht was cleared away, ready for bed, by ten pm. I found that my laptop could receive a signal from the wifi in the marina opposite if I sat in the cockpit, in the dark. Again, the same company provided internet at this marina, and all the others we had visited. The similarities continued, next morning I called the marina, I noticed a board mentioning channel 81, and asked for a berth. It looked full but fortunately there was a space for us. Each pontoon had different coloured cones on top of the piles, just like all the other marinas, we were directed to red 6, easy to find because of the colours.
We would not have bothered with the stop if the weather forecast had been good enough to allow us to continue, but strong winds were due to last for four or five days.
The people were pleasant and the facilities seemed ideal, so much so that thoughts turned to lifting out. The rates seemed reasonable and so we booked our lift. It was all done professionally and on Monday afternoon we were safely in a cradle. We spent a few unpleasant days rubbing down and then I applied anti fouling, I chose Micron Extra again; an experiment with cheaper paint had failed. I also noticed that most of the yachts I could see on the hard had yellow paint on their propellers. A new product from New Zealand, everyone I asked spoke highly about it so I had the yard paint mine. It’s called Prop Speed, and is said to be good for up to twelve months. Time will tell.
As well as below the waterline we polished the gelcoat up to deck level, I hired a buffer for a day. The yard also lent us a hot air gun as they had seen us struggling to remove the old Chrome lettering from the sides. The new lettering, once applied, looked stunning. After a week we were gently placed back in the water, we then motored a few metres to a berth.
Next morning we left early, a delightful sail, fifty or so miles to the southern end of Hervey bay. We entered the marina there, and despite several VHF calls no one responded so we chose a sheltered spot and tied up.
A former school friend of Charley’s joined us later that evening for the trip to Brisbane.  Next morning after breakfast we motored out of the marina and across a shallow area hoping to find the channel south called the Sandy straits. Both Cook and Flinders missed the straits, believing Fraser Island to be part of the mainland. We failed to find a route over the first bank as the depths progressively lessened, eventually we touched the bottom, gently and at low speed, so we retraced our route and headed two miles north to find another route. Once east of the shoal water we began a passage through shallows that lasted for several hours, often the depth below the keel was under two metres, the tide was rising for most of the passage, but even when it was falling the current was still behind us. The buoys seemed to be well placed but the chart was occasionally inaccurate.
By late afternoon we were safely into deeper water, with one final challenge to overcome. There is a bar to the south of Fraser Island, with shifting sands. Jenny, Charley’s school friend called the local marine rescue service on the telephone to check the latest reported depth.  We were cleared to cross, although the tide was now falling. Two sets of leading marks gave some help, but the main aid to navigation was the plotter. As we neared the bar the waves became shorter and steeper, we shipped one or two as we motored on and eventually passed out into safer waters.  Outside the shelter of Fraser Island, the wind was over twenty knots but the following sea did not cause any problems. The run south to Brisbane was ninety miles. We took turns at sleeping for an hour or two. Three people make the watches easier than two. Gradually the wind strength reduced and by mid morning we were occasionally motoring. The Port of Brisbane was visible from the top of Moreton Bay giving us an idea of how far we had to go. A container port is at the mouth of the river. We were pleased to be almost there as we left the ships and tugs to port. We then dropped the main sail and set some jib for the last few miles up the Brisbane River.
It was rather industrial to begin with but then we entered the city proper. The banks of the river were lined with houses, many of which had their own pontoons. Quite a few yachts were on moorings and a few were at anchor. We picked up a mooring but after a few hours let it go. A few metres away we found enough room to anchor.
Charley’s friend lived nearby, within walking distance. We spent a few days relaxing and attending to small maintenance jobs. Brisbane seemed a good place to live.
The engine salt water pump was still dripping so we moved to a marina and I bought the parts to repair it properly, we had sails repaired and two new D2’s were bought from a rigger.
As we moored in the marina we saw a yacht both Charley and I recognised, although we could not remember where from. The owner was not aboard for the first couple of days but when he returned we recognised him. It gave us a real thrill to discover that we met this family, the man had his wife and children with him, last in Cape Town. Both of our yachts were beside each other on the hard standing while we anti-fouled.  They then sailed west; through the Panama Canal and across the Pacific, while we sailed east.
There was another yacht in the marina I had seen before, this one even more bizarre, an old yellow Whitbread racer called Crichton’s. I remember sailing past her several times in Fastnet races.

Mackay marina was huge, and again the facilities were first class. On the first afternoon there we went by taxi to a shopping centre and bought fresh provisions, on the way back to the marina, again by taxi, we stopped at a drive through bottle shop, supermarkets cant sell alchohol, and bought two cases of beer. There were several restaurants fronting the marina, on the first night we dined on huge steaks, among the best I had ever had. There was an assortment of chandlers and boating services shops near by, in all of them, and everywhere I have been in Australia, I was made to feel welcome, what a contrast to England, and especially Suffolk. Thinking of home, customer service is poor by comparison.
I removed one of the non working solar panels, the heat near the equator had been too much and it melted, but no replacement was to be found. We filled our water tanks and departed.
The wind was still from the north east making our sailing very pleasant, Late afternoon I had a decent fish on the line, we took our time landing it as the lure I was using had quite small hooks, I expected small fish, this one weighed in at seven and a half kilos, we had to refer to our books to discover that it was a southern bluefin tuna, the fifth tuna species that I had caught on this trip. We were quite near our intended anchorage at Curlew island and we found what we thought would be a comfortable spot for the night. It turned out to be quite the opposite, the wind was only ten knots but the wave action made the boat roll, our sleep was interrupted many times. We were grateful when the sun rose so we could depart to the east and our next planned anchorage at Middle Island, one of the Percy group. We were fortunate with the wind direction; it freed us enough to sail directly towards Rescue bay on the south side of the island. We covered the twenty five miles quickly and well before noon we were safely in the lee of the island. We put the rib out and went ashore.

The geology was fascinating, iron deposits stained the sand various shades of red. The sand was so soft that feet sank into it like snow. There was no sign of any other human visitors. As we walked along the beach, below some tree covered hills, we spotted a group of Kangaroo's. They soon departed from view. I assume someone has introduced them to this island, we also saw wild goats. We returned to Loggerhead and had Sashimi for lunch, our soy and wasabi were not at their best though, but the tuna was first class.
Next morning when we departed, the anchor was caught under a large rock and I had to swim down to move it, it took us almost an hour to get it free. Once under way the day turned into another memorable sailing experience. The conditions were ideal and a helpful current meant we could look forward to some sleep just after midnight. Our destination was Kepple bay marina, ninety six miles south. The route took us close to a few rocky headlands, post card scenery. The final few miles were over some shoals and at times the depth below the keel was less than I would have liked. We spotted the green lights on the harbour wall and quietly motored in, it was after one o'clock and the wind was about twenty knots. I reversed into an empty berth. We celebrated with one cold beer each, we slept well and at nine o'clock I went to the marina office and of course they asked me to move.
That afternoon we were waiting for the bus to town when a local lady offered us a lift, she also kindly offered to take us back to the marina after we had done our shopping. As a thank you we gave her some fresh Tuna. I bought new wasabi and soy sauce, that evening I dined again on Tuna.
Next afternoon we departed from the marina, which was near a town called Yepoon, and despite twenty knots on the nose we made our way to Kepple Island. From the chart an anchorage looked hard to find, the obvious ones were exposed to the south easterly wind so I was pleased to see several yachts anchored on the western side of the island. When I checked the depth I discovered that all these yachts were anchored in very shallow water. We found the deepest spot we could and joined them. I calculated that the least depth we might see below the keel was about a metre. We watched the figure slowly decrease, until at ten pm at low water we had only one and a half metres below the keel, it was windy but there were no waves to concern us so we turned in.
Next morning we motored away to the south at just after five am, we soon set sail, and managed to catch a catamaran that had left just before us, the wind was not quite free enough for us to clear cape Capricorn but a couple of tacks and we were round.
The scenery alone the coast was again breathtaking. We intended to stop that evening in a place called Rodds Harbour, but during the afternoon the wind increased and so we sought shelter behind an island called Curtis. On the mainland side we could see the industry of Gladstone. A fishing boat was anchored close by; its paint job was not complete so it appeared to be a yacht with a fishing boat behind it. It only became clear when we were quite close. Next morning we had to motor for the first five hours as the wind was too light to sail to. We tried trolling some lures, without success. There were many tuna feeding on the surface, occasionally they fed very close to the yacht, chasing tiny fry, the sea was calm the only white water we could see was caused by the tuna. The weather forecast described the wind backing to the north throughout the day, and light during the morning but increasing during the evening.

We waited at anchor in Horse Shoe bay for three days, hoping the south easterly wind would ease. On the first day we did little more than rest, on the second day I took Charley ashore so that she could explore the island, and on the third day I went ashore to see a doctor, my chest was no better after a month, despite a course of anti-biotics. The doctor prescribed different anti-biotics
At last the weather forecast described wind at less than twenty five knots, we hoped. Very early on Friday the 13th, we are not superstitious; we crept out of the bay after the windlass had quietly pulled in the anchor and chain. The wind on the east coast of Australia is similar to that on the east coast of Africa, overnight it is southerly, but as the day goes on it becomes more and more easterly, due to the sea breeze created by the warming of the land.
We had some east to make so an early start was essential. The wind was over twenty knots though and the disorganised wave action ruined any attempt by the yacht to pick up speed. We expected to see other yachts heading south, but none came into view. As the wind backed our course became more northerly, when it was north east we tacked towards Cape Bowling Green, which was ten miles to the south. Had we then been able to leave it to starboard we could have continued south east, but we needed to tack again after a couple of hours to miss the sandy headland, our course then was only just east of north and away from our destination. After two miles we tacked again, by this time the wind had freed us a little more and we were able to point directly at our planned anchorage, west of Cape Upstart, although it was still thirty miles away. The sea breeze had, by that time in the afternoon, increased the wind strength to above twenty five knots: it was wet and a bit uncomfortable. The sun set and the early evening was very dark, there are few lights along the coast of Queensland. Progress was at last good, we were free of the wind and the tide became helpful. It seemed like a long day.

The wind was north east as we approached our planned anchorage, although I selected a place to be sheltered from easterly wind rather than north easterly. We were subjected to the full force of the wind right up to the moment we dropped the anchor, it was only just in a lee. But it was enough, we slept well. At dawn the next morning we set off again, although we were disturbed once during the night as the wind blew from the south west for a while. The second day looked like being easier than the first; the distance to the next possible anchorage was only forty two miles, we logged ninety on the first.  The course to make was just south of east, and the same pattern unfolded, we were pushed to the north and then when we tacked we were slowly freed by the wind to sail our intended course. Except with ten miles to go we were headed and had to beat the remaining miles. Tide against made this frustrating, our anchorage was on the west coast of an island called Gloucester, named after one of George the third’s brothers, courtesy of Cook. We latter learned that the small bay we, and two other yachts chose, was called Squally bay. This was very appropriate; we saw twenty six knots of wind within ten minutes of anchoring. The shape of the island acted as a foil to the wind. The holding was good with sandy mud so we weren’t too bothered.
The next days run was even less so we had a later start than normal, twenty six miles to Hook Island, one of the Whitsunday’s, again by Cook. This sail was the one we had been waiting for, moderate winds and the wave height soon decreased allowing gentle sailing at last. In fact the wind disappeared for a while and we motored. I then realised how dirty the bottom must have become, the weed growth cost a full knot of boat speed. We were surprised at the number of other yachts cruising this area, Charley counted seventeen around us at one stage. Moorings are provided for the early arrivals, we had to anchor. Next morning I began to clean the underside of the hull. It was quite a job; I continued after breakfast but was too tired to complete the task. By midday all the other yachts had moved on, so we decided to do the same. We motored and then sailed south to the main Whitsunday Island; we found another sheltered bay and enjoyed the view. No sign of human interference other than the yachts, not one plastic bag or empty bottle to be seen on the beaches. The cleaning restored most of the missing boat speed.

Charley snorkelled but the water visibility was poor, but as a consolation there were many turtles in the bay to the south of us. While launching the dinghy I knocked a winch handle over the side, the first to be lost in over two years.
Next morning we motored south as the wind strength was less than four knots. The time to move was dictated by the tide; at one stage we had four knots of helpful water below the yacht so the miles to go figure decreased quickly.  We trolled a variety of lures without success, we could see plenty of fish but perhaps they weren’t hungry.
Our planned stop at Ladysmith Island came within a mile of the tide turning against. We decided to anchor and wait for the next ebb to the south. This was only four hours later, the tidal graph describes one big tide and one small tide each day. At four pm we set off again, the wind had backed further and was almost northerly; we hoped to make the next island group in time to anchor in daylight.  
We anchored in the lee of Brampton Island with moments to spare before darkness descended; three other yachts were already in the bay. We could see the loom of the lights of Mackay, our next stop, on the mainland to the south west.  Most of the islands we had seen in the past few days were rocky but tree covered, as we travelled south they became slightly less green, the shades of browns and yellows amongst them seemed to increase.

From the start it was a great sail, close hauled all the way but with a pleasant amount of wind.  The waves gradually decreased the further south we went. We passed many islands, some on the inside but mostly to seaward, invariably they were tree covered, the coast was almost uninhabited. We saw only two small outcrops of houses in the entire eighty miles between Cairns and Caldwell. Caldwell is protected from the prevailing winds by a large island called Hinchinbrook. There was a marina there but we found no need to enter it as the anchor held us securely in the lee of the island. The night was very quiet and we both slept well.
Next morning we motored south, with the tide, through the Hinchinbrook channel. It was mangrove lined on both sides, perfect crocodile country. The channel was buoyed adequately and the twenty or so miles took less than four hours. The scenery was just as nature created it, no human influence at all. Occasionally we saw someone in a metal dinghy with an outboard engine, and later we saw a few people fishing. As we rounded the south of the island, the channel was very shallow; the least depth we saw was 1.6 metres below the keel. Just as well that we had timed our departure to coincide with high water. There was a collective sigh of relief when we found the depth increasing again. From then the wind was from east south east, we were just free enough to sail close hauled towards our next planned stop at Magnetic Island, just outside Townsville.
Whilst in Cairns I read an extract from James Cook’s log of his journey north along Australia’s coast, many of the current place names were chosen by him. At Magnetic Island he noticed an unusual variation affecting his compass and deduced that the island must contain a source of iron.
Our sailing went well but the wind headed us reducing progress. We passed inside several islands and eventually noticed a settlement on one of them. Rather than continue to beat our way south we decided to anchor off this town, the island was called Great Palm Island. The seabed shelved very gently and was too shallow for us to get close to the beach. This would have been ideal before we had a windlass, but now I had one I wanted to enjoy the luxury of anchoring in deeper water. But not this time, we anchored at least half a mile from the coast with six metres under the keel.  We later learned that the settlement was for Aboriginal people only, just as well we didn’t go ashore.
Next morning we sailed the thirty or so miles to Townsville. The bay shelved gently and by the time we were close the harbour the depth of water was only a few metres. A dredged channel led into the marina, at times we had less than a metre below the keel, and it was quite windy so there was a lively motion on the water.
We enjoyed Townsville; it was smaller than Cairns but just as well maintained, the municipal authorities in Australia seem to spend extremely generously on infrastructure. Parks and roads are all pristine. A call from someone in Cairns, who had seen our note advertising the Honda outboard, led to its sale. Another note on a board in the marina in Townsville also led to the sale of the Aries wind vane. So after a few days we departed lighter and wealthier than when we arrived. The Aries is a useful piece of kit on the right yacht, Loggerhead is too finely balanced. The tidal situation meant that we had to wait until 11 am to leave safely, this would of course not allow us to go too far in daylight. The chap that bought the Aries, to replace his 30 year old one, advised us that the shelter in bowling green bay, the first one with enough depth to anchor in, was poor. He suggested a short hop to Horseshoe Bay on the northern coast of Magnetic Island. This would mean a short first sail, but it was our intended course of action. However, the sailing was good and the conditions pleasant so we decided to continue. The forecast was SE/E 15-20 knots becoming 20-25 in the evening so we were happy enough. Our decision to continue was a mistake, we passed a headland and found that once in Bowling Green bay the wave heights increased and the wind headed us. It also became obvious why it was so named, the land is as flat as a ….. And it afforded no shelter. We continued with the intention of anchoring near the shore, at that stage 12 miles upwind, the light faded and with no moon and full cloud it was very dark. The wind had been a manageable 18-20 knots but increased with the gloom, we went to three reefs in the main and a balanced genoa. With a couple of miles to go it was obvious that anchoring would not be sensible, so our choices were to beat against the, by now 30 knot wind to the next bay, or turn and run for shelter. We turned back. I tacked the boat and Charley let out the main sheet as we bore away, the waves were quite big and the only way of helming in the darkness was by was the instruments. The nearest easy shelter that we could see on the plotter was the original destination, North of Magnetic Island in horseshoe Bay, 25 miles away. Once or twice, larger than usual following waves or a gust of wind forced the boat to sail momentarily with the wind on the beam. On one such occasion Charley was safely below with the wash board in, trying to make coffee; she was safe, but showered with onions and garlic as objects flew across the cabin. The sea on the beam had caused a big roll but no water entered the cockpit.
A ship appeared to be coming close according to the AIS but Charley called them on the VHF and they were kind enough to pass behind us. After three hours we were within a few miles of Magnetic Island; we furled the genoa away and with just the main reefed down we still made seven or eight knots through the water. The shore lights at last gave us a heading and we motored the last mile into the bay and found some respite from the wind. We anchored in five metres, but the wind caused us to drag slowly, at the second attempt we anchored slightly closer to the shore and I let out the entire sixty metres of chain.  It was after one o’clock before we finally turned in. We slept soundly, in the morning we counted fifteen other yachts in the bay, all of which were much nearer to the shore than we were.

I hated leaving Cairns. In most ports I can't wait to get to sea after just two or three days, but not Cairns. We dwelled for two weeks, during which time we made some new friends, met some old ones, began the repairs and discovered what a wonderful prospect Australia is.
I knew that the charges for weekend arrival would be higher than weekday rates, but I just couldn't wait. We were not disappointed; the town is beautifully designed, public barbecues and a modern open air swimming pool were set in gardens on the beachfront, the shops were full of tourists, and the atmosphere had a holiday feel to it.
We enjoyed drinks and snacks on three or four yachts that we had seen before and some of them joined us on our yacht for similar fare, a group of us dined at the nearest public barbecue, all we had to do was press a button and the heat came on. We ate ashore a few times, Greek, Indian and Italian meals, all good tucker. One day a Surrey friend of Charley's appeared on the pontoon. She and her partner, John, live in Palm Cove just up the coast from Cairns. One night they invited us dinner; as John is a professional chef, this turned out to be a feast.
There were plenty of live aboard dive boats taking people out to the Barrier Reef, I hoped to do some diving but I picked up a chest infection on the first day in Cairns, it stubbornly refused to clear up so I decided to wait until further down the coast.
The weather in Cairns was spring like, windy and showery, but generally cooler than PNG.
The list of repairs was again daunting, I sought advice about the location of chandlers, they were all outside the shopping area, in a semi industrial area, a fair walk. The first time I visited them I walked but after that I hired or borrowed a car. I ordered a Muir windlass and bought six new stanchions, we also replaced the lifeline netting around the foredeck. It looked very smart. I found a new blower to replace the worn out one that ventilates the engine space. I also found a fishing tackle shop and spent an obscene amount of money on new gear.
While waiting for the windlass to arrive I made a start on the wiring. I ran two 35 square millimetre cables through the trunking to the bow. I also prepared a cable from the cockpit as I wanted to be able to raise or lower the anchor from there. Most of the other jobs had parts suppliers near Brisbane so I decided to wait until we arrived there. The windlass arrived and the installation went well, it leaked a bit to begin with but this was soon solved.
Brisbane was about 800 miles south. The cyclone season was fast approaching so we decided to make a start, but not before we hired a car and drove inland to see some of the scenery. Tropical rainforest once covered the table lands, but much of it was cleared for farming, there are a few remaining areas and the policy the government is adopting is to return some areas to its former condition. Away from the coast the lack of rainfall becomes evident, the trees have adapted to drought conditions and the farmers have well developed irrigation to allow them to grow all manner of crops. The scenery was wonderful, good roads, almost no litter; the towns seemed prosperous bordering on idyllic.
We motored out of the Marlin Marina; the wind was above twenty five knots, three reefs and a small piece of the new Quantum Genoa, stored away since Durban carried us along nicely. The tide was helpful to begin with, our route was north for about five miles then east for a about the same. Fitzroy Island was only eleven miles from Cairns yet we had to sail twenty five miles to get there. It was good to be out sailing, but as always, a prolonged period in port makes it feel strange. Once clear of the main our course was south, there weren't many islands with shelter within a day sail so we stopped at Fitzroy.
The first anchoring left us just a bit too close to the rocky shore, but it didn't matter; we simply did it again. The new windlass was an unbelievable improvement. Press a button and in came the chain. We moved out a bit and re- anchored. The island was tree covered, about a kilometre long with the two tallest peaks at either end. A resort with a pier sat on the beach was in the middle. Even though we were in the lee of the island the wind gusted strongly all night, neither of us slept particularly well but the anchor and about fifty metres of chain were quite secure in sand.
Next morning we moved off, the wind came from our intended direction and with the tide against progress was poor. I decided to return and wait for a change in the weather.
Charley couldn't resist the idea of exploring another island so I took her ashore in the rib. We spent the day resting, and left again just after midnight.
 

For the first four hours there was little wind but as we approached the China strait it picked up, eighteen knots on the nose. The course altered to starboard enough for the wind to help, although between the islands it was variable. We did enjoy a helpful current this time, only a knot as we were a bit late, but it was better than nothing. We saw Samurai Island again a couple of miles away, but our course took us through the west passage around one of the larger islands. Much of this coast has never been surveyed so we followed a recommended route. Just after dusk we were able to sail and motor our course directly at Cairns. A last reef to pass though and we were in deep water. The weather forecast gave us three days of relatively light winds. Forecasts are exactly that, a prediction not a guarantee and the Coral Sea can be fairly tempestuous. During the south east monsoon, that is your wind direction, almost without fail. Shortly after leaving Alotoa at midday on Wednesday I sent a notice of arrival warning by email to Australian Customs. They require 96 hours notice and details of yacht and crew etc. They take a dim view of people turning up un-announced. I gave notice that we would arrive at nine o’clock on the next Monday morning, we were likely to arrive before then but they charge extra for weekend attendance, so we would anchor and wait.

We motored for the first few hours once clear, but then the wind picked up and rose to eighteen to twenty knots, with two reefs in the main we rarely dropped below seven knots. The sea state was very disorganised so our motion was a bit frantic. Our heading was south west so we could expect to be on port tack for the entire leg. This gave the damaged starboard D2 an easy ride.

We expected the Australian authorities to confiscate most of our food, so our stores were very low, some of our meals would have to be inventive. The water maker was not at its best either; the aft tank was half full so we had enough to cook with but unless I could make some, not enough to wash with.

Our good speed soon brought the hours to go figure down; on the second day I noticed that a metre of the leech cord tape on the genoa had come un-stitched. I also took regular weather reports; eventually one had bad news, thirty knots due on Sunday evening. At that stage, Thursday, there was still 350 miles to go to the gap in the Great Barrier Reef. We then had a reason to hurry, so we went into race mode. Loggerhead responded, the miles disappeared astern, on the second night the figures showed eighteen to twenty knots of wind, but it felt much more, the genoa was reduced to the size of a number 4 and with three reefs in the main we still managed over seven knots, so perhaps it was more.

The next day the wind eased to ten knots or under and the sun came out, there were many more sea birds than we had seen in a long time. A look at the log revealed a 24 hour run of 172 miles, and I think the log under reads slightly. The wind coming from just in front of the beam is ideal; it means plenty of basic speed and an angle to work around the waves.

Charley made fresh bread and we enjoyed some rest, full sail kept the speed near or above six knots. The evening was perfect, clear sky lots of stars, no moon but ideal sailing conditions. The boat speed was still good despite only ten knots of wind. A gannet landed on the pulpit and spent the night there, preening itself and then sleeping with its head under a wing. Just after dawn the wind all but disappeared, the lull before the storm I presumed. The forecasts continued to warn of thirty knots, not disastrous in its self, but it was due to be spread over a very large area, half of eastern Australia, so it was reasonable to assume that it would be stronger in places. The gannet flew away, caught two fling fish and returned to the pulpit.

At just over three days from Alotoa we approached the Great Barrier Reef, there was less wind than the forecast and occasionally we motored to keep the speed up. I also trolled a lure; it wasn’t long before we had a meal on the line, a four kilo Barracuda safely in the fridge. I put the line out again after I had washed the cockpit, not for food but just to see what would take the lure. I didn’t have to wait long, the biggest King Mackerel I had ever seen took the Rapala, I estimate that it weighed ten kilos; I struggled to wind it in. The fish was fortunate that we already had a full fridge so we let it go without bringing it aboard. King Mackerel is a misnomer; the fish is more like a barracuda than a mackerel. Just not quite as good to eat.

As we approached Cairns, in darkness, we could see the lights of the city. There was a five mile dredged channel to negotiate, the lateral marks all flashed in perfect unison, it created an unsual effect, a bit like a runway. At last we could see other yachts anchored opposite the marina so we joined them. The anchor immediately took hold in the mud. A few beers by way of celebration and then some well deserved sleep.

Next morning I called the marina on the VHF, the lady replied and after an hour called back to confirm that a place was available. The wind was over twenty knots by this time, even in the shelter of the harbour. We moored next to a large dive charter yacht and I began to walk to the marina office. Fortunately an American man who’s yacht was close by, advised me not to leave my yacht until Customs and Quarantine have given permission. He called them on his mobile phone for me. Both organisations attended promptly. I filled in a few forms for the two gentlemen from Customs, but the young lady from Quarantine, as we expected, proceeded to go through our food stores. She confiscated more than she left, she also scrutinised my wooden story board from PNG. I was fortunate to have had it fumigated after buying it or it would have been lost.

The fee for this service was over six hundred Australian dollars, almost half of which was at overtime rates as it was Sunday.

As predicted the wind was strong all weekend, so we stayed put in Sewa Bay in Normanby. The locals paid us several visits and we began to build friendships with some of them. Their lives were simple, but not that easy. On Sunday afternoon a man from a Catholic mission from the far side of the bay paid me a visit, asking for the captain. He then advised me, in all seriousness, that he had heard that pirates intended to pay us a visit that evening and we should consider leaving. I thanked him, with a straight face, and he left. Charley and I wracked our brains for his motive; our best bet was that he believed we were corrupting his flock, whatever his motive we thought it most unlikely that pirates would take him into their confidence. Needless to say no pirates came.
We could not have left that evening as the weather was too bad, not that we wanted to. Next morning at dawn, five o'clock in these parts, I pulled up the anchor. Many of the children of the small village waved us goodbye, I don't know if they always start their day that early but I doubt it. We hoisted the main and put two reefs in it, even though the wind inside the bay was only six knots. We asked a man that had been outside all night fishing about the wave heights, he said that they were OK. To begin with they were, but as we went further from the narrow entrance the wind increased. The most we saw was thirty two knots. We were well prepared and Charley was feeling better so we were content with our situation. The current against was two and a half knots on the near side of the channel, this decreased as we made our way, hard on the wind, to the other side, we then tacked and made some progress to the east. This continued for about five hours, after which we entered a buoyed channel between islands and reefs. We were then about twelve miles from our starting position. The channel was ten degrees further from the wind but still not enough for us to sail our course. We had to put several tacks in, but each one was easier than the last. The wind was about eighteen to twenty knots and the waves were small due to the islands. After about ten miles we left the last mark to starboard and our course alteration left the wind on our port beam. With a clean bottom and a relatively light ship we took off, seven and a half to eight knots, both boat speed and over the ground, as the tide was on our beam as well. The next eighteen miles took only two and a half hours. There were one or two rogue waves so a bit of spray came inboard, but it was sunny and warm so that mattered not. The next two waypoints were harder on the wind but only a little. The earlier delay meant that we had missed the helpful tide in the China Strait, and that meant an unhelpful tide to come, the pilot books spoke of three to six knots. As we entered yet another narrow channel, the multitude of islands ensured flat water despite a reasonable breeze, the three knots against was easily overcome by our six to seven knots of boat speed. Our hopes of anchoring in daylight increased having seemed impossible earlier in the day. A couple of tacks and a final flourish and we arrived ready to anchor at Samurai Island. We saw people on the jetty and anchored, ten minutes before it was dark. The day began rather difficult but ended one to remember.
Next morning after breakfast we lowered the rib and added the outboard, even though the dock was only fifty metres away. Rowing against a three knot current was not an option. As soon as we stepped ashore a lady said"I saw you last night, my husband is the Customs officer, and he is away for a month". She then went on to explain that we would have to go to another port for our outward clearance, the nearest being Alotau. I immediately thought of leaving PNG without clearing out, but the next country would be Australia and their officials have a reputation to uphold, so I doubt that they would be sympathetic. We knew that there was a shop and a market on the island so we had high hopes of improving our stores. Both were a huge disappointment. I won't, but I could from memory recount the entire stock of the market. We returned to Loggerhead, disappointed.
The linear drive to the autopilot had given up on the last leg but fortunately I had a brand new spare, exchanging old for new was one of the jobs I intended to do before we sailed to Australia, now I did it before we sailed north again back into Papua New Guinea, while I did that Charley backed fresh bread. We then made ready to sail, we would of course have to pass through the China strait, and as before the tide was against us, this time at up to four knots. We persevered and just before dusk arrived at Alotau. I fished on the passage and had one bite, something so substantial that it bent the hooks while freeing itself. As usual anchoring was difficult, the shore was steep to, and the only area we could find that was shallow enough was close to a reef.
Next morning, after a sleepless night, we saw how close we had been to disaster. A coral wall was only three metres away; the rudder would have been the first thing to touch. Yet again our luck was in.
We readied the rib and went ashore, the supermarkets were full of edible provisions, and I even bought a case of beer. The customs paperwork was effortless and so we returned to the yacht. I then made two trips to a garage for diesel, we pulled up the anchor and motored back towards the China strait.
 

We spoke on the radio with Magic Roundabout and agreed to stop in Tufi for a rest. The cuttings into Cape Nelson are called Fjords by the locals; they are deep, but not very steep above the water. Tufi was in one of these Fjords, fortunately we found a mooring buoy, it was very close to the coral wall so I moored stern to. A couple of hour's later Magic Roundabout arrived and rafted alongside. There was a shop and a dive centre in the small bay, and nothing else, I quickly lowered the rib and rowed ashore, I bought a dozen bottles of cold beer and rowed back. We all relaxed for a while and enjoyed the beer. I then began cleaning the underwater hull of Loggerhead. We had to arrive in Australia with a clean bottom or be ordered to haul out. Overlooking the bay was a lodge or resort, while buying the beer I spoke to the only guest who advised that it had a restaurant and bar. Next day I trudged up the steep hill only to be told that it was not open to non residents, their loss.
Charley developed some symptoms that might be malaria, I had a test kit for the lethal strain which fortunately proved negative, a blood test is the only certain diagnosis. Her condition did not improve after a few days so she took some Malarone and we sailed towards Samuri Island. If no medical advice could be found there it was only three or four days to Australia.
To begin with the wind was on the nose at fifteen knots and the current against at one knot so progress was slow, the channel through the un-surveyed area was small so the only option was to motor, our SOG was only 3 knots for much of the time and Charley was not well enough to stand watches. For a few hours in the afternoon the wind freed us enough to make some progress, but as soon as it got dark the wind direction reverted, it also rose to twenty five knots and the sea state soon became unpleasant. Two and a half, to three metre waves.
With the desire to make progress I pushed as hard as I dare, the yacht coped magnificently with falling off big waves many times, slamming and shuddering into the troughs. Charley's discomfort came and went, during the better periods she kept watch while I slept. It was a long night, the wind direction remained the same the next day, it became obvious that we would not make Samuri Island in daylight so we looked for an anchorage. We crossed the strait and entered a natural harbour inside Normanby Island. It was so sheltered that Charley, with a high temperature, soon missed the cooling aspect of the wind at sea, it was completely still inside but outside the wind blew at over twenty knots.
We anchored in ten metres, and a dozen small canoes soon surrounded the yacht, the people were friendly of course, and advised us that we had missed some of the yachts we knew by two days. Our stores were getting low, but after a simple meal we slept for twelve hours. Next morning we awoke to look at our new surroundings, hills covered with trees filled the entire horizon, almost like a lake, a few wooden houses on stilts, and a few areas where the trees had been cleared for crops. The wind gusted strongly but there were no waves at all. We looked down on the reef we had anchored on and saw beautiful coral in good condition. I quickly donned snorkelling gear and dived down to check the anchor. It wasn't set of course but it had found a coral head to hook onto. Some of the locals arrived and Charley lent one her mask and snorkel, another brought a homemade spear gun and the man with the mask dived down for fish. I watched as he very skilfully caught some.
Charley had been in and out of fevers, chills and headaches for five days. The course of Mallerone seemed to be having an effect, and the worst seemed over, we hoped.
We intended to check out of PNG at Samuri Island but the weather forecast for the next two days was for 25-30 knot winds, so we decided to wait. We also had to consider the state of the tide as there was reputed to be a very strong flow to the north either side of high water. Samuri was also said to be a poor anchorage so we intended to make the stay a short one before the four day crossing to Cairns in Australia.