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.