Bass Strait – not giving up without a fight

Sunday 1 August 2021 

80 Miles North East of Wilson’s Promontory 

As the golden sun went down and Gabo Island fell astern, we glided effortlessly along – past Mallacoota, Wingan Inlets, Cape Conran, Marlo and Orbost. The breeze from the north, plus a small amount of engine, had us doing 6 knots over seas as flat as an Olympic Pool and under a silky-black, star filled sky. 

The sky was so black, even the white bits were black … and given how good my new phone has been at taking snaps, I thought I’d point it skywards and scroll though the custom settings, all the while lying on my back, eyes to the heavens, for added stability. 

Using a 10 second exposure, held very still, the images were “simply amazing” ..,. to quote the others onboard. I’m looking forward to being able to upload them. 

It was SO calm, we even had an opportunity to sit together around the saloon table woofing down one of Harm’s latest culinary creations, between going on deck to gaze skywards to take photos or count falling meteorites. 

Around 11:00pm, with the cockpit adequately staffed, I retired to my cosy, warm bunk.  

Two hours later, I was woken – by noises outside – to something akin to a parallel universe. No more the tranquility of bliss, Chimere was now bucking and flapping, with the howling sound of the wind and the unmistakeable splashing of waves raising me from my bunk and into the “suiting up” processes.

You may have seen those NASA movies where the astronauts are kitted up for their suits, or are dressing for a moon walk, or better still, you are trying to dress both yourself and a wriggling three year old for an excursion into the snow … well, getting dressed to go on deck is something of an ordeal.  

And by the sounds, this was no poke your head out of the companionway hatch with the kindly words … “how’s it going chaps?” … no, this was the full deal … thermals, polar fleece, super-socks, over-pants, sea boots, jumper, scarf, over-jacket, gloves, life jacket and tether-clip-on-strap … which I swear, will be the death of me! Oh, did I mention that you’d first better remember to go to the toilet before starting all of the above – even if you don’t think you need to – because up on deck you’ll regret it pretty soon. 

I’m sure most of my bruises and bangs on the head have come from simply getting dressed, while the boat is moving this way and that ! 

Once up on deck, it was clear that the south west change had come – with cold vengeance – and instead of gliding along in a straight line towards our destination, we were aiming towards the Ninety Mile Beach, at right angles to our course. Not ideal, but all we could do, given the conditions – “How long is this likely to last?” I asked Matt … “For a while” came the reply. 

Pretty soon, we’d reefed the main, adjusted the jib and had a reasonable motion happening … still in the wrong direction, and still at just 3-4 knots, but at least it was comfortable. We had a plan. And it involved tacking our way slowly forward by means of a series of zig zags – we had done THIS before and you never really get used to it. As the saying goes … “Gentlemen DON’T tack”. 

Harm and Matt retired to their bunks, leaving me and Sam to slug it out … while holding at bay the cold, really cold, and sleep … willing the minutes to tick by, that would herald the return of the friendly warm sun. 

As we neared the end of our third, hour-long, tack … by now just 3 miles or so from the beach … it became apparent that we were losing ground on this tack. Simply put, we were no longer able to point as high to the wind on this tack as we could on the earlier beach-bound tack. This could only really mean one thing … “I think the wind is shifting … more to the northwest … away from the southwest” I mused … “quick, let’s tack”. 

As we started the process of adjusting the sheets on the new tack … this time towards the Prohibited Oil and Gas Field to the south … the wind gauge showed it was now blowing off the starboard beam (side) and NOT on the nose, enabling us to steer away from the expected heading of the next tack, but right onto our earlier plotted – straight line – course.  

“Ease the sheets … we are no longer tacking!” … and just like that, nearly four hours of bashing to windward, with the prospect of hours more to come, was simply wiped away. We were back to stable sailing once more – in the right direction – all of a sudden, the rain and air didn’t seem so cold anymore – despite the visible fog from our breath.  

The sun returned as a welcomed friend, fighting its way through the heavy morning clouds. We continued to make good time, but by lunchtime the wind had veered to the west, making our direct course hard to hold. The sea built and now, instead of avoiding the oil and gas region area altogether, we instead charted a new course, making sure to stay at least two miles from any oil and gas platform; with great names like … Kingfish, Barracouta, Halibut, Bream, Snapper, Whiting … do you detect a theme here …?  

But still, we made good time, mostly heading south, roughly parallel to the coast. 

Phone and internet coverage has been sporadic at best, mostly as we passed by the few settled areas onshore. I managed to actually speak with someone at Australian Quarantine last night, and again this morning. I’ll call him … “helpful Dave” … because he was extremely helpful, and that was his name. Far more helpful than a person in the same department who informed me that I was … “now an Unlawful Arrival” … Please??!! I haven’t arrived (yet) and I’m doing everything I can to comply!! I’m simply asking you to HELP me do so.  

In chatting with Dave I gained the impression that “my case” was well known … “the imminent arrival of a yacht” … I suspect they don’t have many. Anyway, while internet coverage lasted, Dave emailed me the right form and so I was able to complete it and get it back to him within the hour. Fifty minutes of that hour was spent by IT expert Harm, downloading new PDF software onto my computer that would first enable me to open and then type-into the attachment … the other ten minutes was spent filling out the form. 

Hopefully, tomorrow I’ll receive a positive answer about whether I can clear quarantine at Westernport. If it’s not approved, then we’ll have no choice but to sail onto Melbourne, another day away, making sure to also obtain berthing permission, and a location, from the Melbourne Port Authorities. Sailing, even in storms, really is the easy bit compared with this. 

It’s now dark again, the sun has left us for another day, and whilst the westerly wind is sending us more south than our chosen course of WEST, the seas are relatively calm, we are making good time under sail alone and there’s a promise the wind will veer to the north west in a few hours – enabling us to creep our course to the right.  

Our next goal is to round Wilson’s Promontory, aka South East Cape … around 80 miles away … or 13 hours at an average speed of 6 knots. So, if all goes to plan, mid-morning tomorrow, we will be around the Prom with our sights set on Westernport … Home. We then expect to berth at the marina at Hastings – travelling up the bay on the all-important incoming tide, by 8:00am Tuesday … less than two days away, 15 days out of Opua, Bay of Islands – cool!  

Hopefully the weather for the next day or so is kind. 

Smooth seas, fair breeze and Bass Strait – not giving up without a fight 

Rob Latimer