Gabo Islands– dolphins – Eden

Today we left at a very respectable 8.00am. Such a shock to the system! Not only was it light, but…it was NOT cold! We exclaimed in delight and put on just a normal amount of clothing, no underlayers of thermals. When I told Pete it wasn’t cold – I was the first to poke my nose out the door at daylight – he said, “Yes I know. I spent a lot of time on deck at 3.00am. One of the ropes was pulled up so very tight I was worried it was going to lift the boat out of the water, or that it would break and spring back and do damage.” I asked if he had been able to do anything about it – it is impossible to undo or unhook a rope which is so tightly strung – and he said, “No. But I spent a lot of time looking at it.” We decided that this intense scrutiny had prevented any disasters from befalling the boat, or the rope.

We left our beautiful solid little jetty and dear little bay, with its attendant pelicans and cormorants, and set off around the corner, into a strong head wind and big swell. As we were rounding the point with the lighthouse, Pete said, “LOOK, right there! And no don’t rush up on deck; it is wet and slippery and windy!” because – oh wow – there was a large pod of dolphins, twenty at least, right next to the boat on both sides, leaping right out of the water. They didn’t stay with us for very long but they made me very happy.

And yes our attendant albatross was waiting for us. With its friend. (We are not sure of the plural of albatross so have agreed to say, “There is an albatross. And oh look, another one!”)

We had a great trip up the coast – we are now in New South Wales, although our radio thinks we are still in Gippsland ABC local radio territory and that we still want to be very indignant about the taxi which was stolen and then burnt in the Sale Primary School playground. (I am not being kind here…we heard about the stolen taxi when we were at Mike and Helen’s, and were very amused that it was such a long-running story. This morning we heard an interview with the taxi owner; he was in tears, and has been unable to sleep. There is, ofcourse, more to the story – it was a special Tarago, fitted out for wheelchair access, and the poor man is distraught – what is going to happen to his clients?? It will take him two months to replace it. But it does seem like a funny story to be so very central to all of the news for so many days; a bit like the red awnings in Hobart, such a source of heated debate for months now, in the Mercury…)

There was a head wind, and a very big swell, so we didn’t progress very fast. We had plenty of time to look at the rugged, inhospitable coastline. Many shipwrecks marked on the chart… As we were going past some particularly threatening cliffs, the boat suddenly lost steering, and the autopilot went off. Not a good moment… Pete, with a slightly wild look, went down into the engine hatches with a trusty wrench… the shaft had come off the rudder (or something like that…) He fixed it in minutes; thank God he is so handy, and we were able to proceed up the coast with equanimity restored.

Pete wanted to go in to Bittangabi Creek for lunch; he thought I would like it. So we aimed towards the ragged rocks on surging waves and went…straight through between the cliffs into a tranquil little bay, with gently lapping water and a dear little beach. Who would ever know it was there?? It was visible on Pete’s wonderful computerised chart, and we were able to steer into it with great certainly. I made toasted sandwiches with hardboiled eggs, cheese and ham (v yummy) and we sat outside very happily, watching a sea eagle glide past. (And no I don’t believe it is the same sea eagle following us from place to place…) Leaving was equally – um –adventurous. We just headed straight into the pounding waves, and out back into the wild sea. As we went past the cliffs, which were being sprayed most violently with plumes of water, I noticed some strange, bent trees on the clifftop. Moving trees!! A little posse of backpackers…not Birnam Wood come to Dunsinane… We watched with horrified fascination as they all walked slowly and carefully to the very edge of the (slippery! wet!!) cliffs, all wearing their heavy backpacks… We thought they were mad; they were probably looking at us, surging out to sea, and saying “Look at those mad buggers on the catamaran!”

Eden was not much further. We went past a most wonderful lighthouse, on Green Cape. Lighthouses in Australia all have such a lovely little clusters of houses around them; bleak and forbidding, but beautiful, solid, dignified. We are anchored in Quarantine Bay; tomorrow we will go into Eden and get fuel (Pete), buy postcards (me) and go to the maritime museum (both of us.) This afternoon we are having a rare few hours of leisure…cups of tea, emails, books. Life is good!