Wednesday 4.00

We have just anchored in a little cove on Deal Island, with clear green water and a little beach. But…no internet or phone reception. A bit much to expect, I suppose; this is a very isolated place!

It is also, like all of these islands between Tasmania and the mainland, extremely beautiful, with towering orange cliffs, like the ramparts of an ancient and well-fortified castle. Right on top of the island, way up high, is a very impressive lighthouse. Just above the little cove where we are moored there are a few neat little white houses; obviously lighthouse keeper’s quarters. Not sure how many people live here now, but we know there is at least one: Spud. Many people we met on Flinders said, “Say g’day to Spud for us when you get to Deal Island!”

But…we are not pootling into the little beach in the tender to offer greetings and light refreshments to Spud… I am typing, and Pete is, once again, down in the engine hatch. He spent quite a long time in both hatches today, clearing out seaweed which was blocking the engines, and pumping horrid oily water out of the bilges. One of the engines has been making a less-than-auspicious sound in the last few miles so…poor old Pete is down there with a torch and a screwdriver instead of enjoying an anchoring beer.

I am not completely useless; every now and then I pass him something, and I was instrumental in hauling the buckets of yucky water out of the hatches and emptying them into the forgiving sea. I also spent about thirty seconds in the forward hatch hunting for the bilge pump…Yes I found it and yes I scampered back up and out of there as quickly as I could; I don’t know how Pete stands it in the aft hatches, which are full of engines, noise, and, well, bilge…

It is very cold. I have just had a shower and made a cup of tea in the hopes of warming up a bit. So I am relatively warm and comfy and doing something I enjoy while poor Pete is down a cold metal hatch, knocking bits of skin off his hands and making them bleed, and occasionally uttering a mournful sigh. He is very patient and uncomplaining about all of this; I am sure I would be sobbing and whingeing…

We left a bit after 5.30am; I think I wrote this already… It was just beautiful, cruising along between Flinders and Cape Barren, then out, finally, across our first leg of Bass Strait to Deal Island. There are lots of islands, most of them looking like small craggy castles rising from the sparkling sea. Except for Prime Seal Island, which was not craggy; it was green and lush and pretty, and was inhabited, not by seals, but by a small flock of very contented looking sheep.
Re the lighthouse… When we were on Flinders, somebody told us about one of the island lighthouses; it might have been this one. It was built in the early 1800s, strong and tall, on the very highest part of the island. The engineers and builders must have been so pleased with themselves… but what they didn’t realise was that the clouds sit low on the island a lot of the time so the lighthouse was virtually useless and they had to build a second, lesser one on a lower bit of ground. Too sad! (So sorry I didn’t absorb all of the necessary information about which lighthouse this was…I was probably in the back of Steve’s car looking at blue native hens and geese and going gollygosh in my head…)

Thursday lunchtime

Still no internet connection so I can’t make the BIG announcement that we have crossed Bass Strait and that we are at Wilson’s Promontory!! We left Deal Island in the pitch black darkness, having got up at 4.30am…oh deary me… We were hoping to get to Victoria in daylight, and to our astonishment found ourselves here before 1.00. It’s not that far; at one stage we could see both Deal Island behind us and Wilson’s Prom ahead. The sad thing about leaving Deal island so early was that we cruised past the island with the big seal colony before the seals were out and about, or even visible at all…

We had only one unpleasant incident – another lot of seaweed in the starboard engine, causing it to overheat. Once again Pete had to rock and roll around down the hatch with wrenches and screwdrivers. I very helpfully sat at the wheel, watching birds, listening to Stephen Fry, and occasionally running inside to find Pete another weapon.

Never mind! We are in Refuge Cove, totally sheltered from wind and weather in every direction, and it is absolutely beautiful, if very cold. As we cruised into our dear little bay, we were greeted by…a sea eagle, close by, fishing, with two small gulls nervously following, hoping, no doubt for leavings from the Royal Table. There are two lovely little beaches in this bay, and the area is covered with thick green bush. The rocks are beautiful, tinged with orange, reminiscent of the Furneaux islands, so it doesn’t feel as if we have come all that far. But…we have crossed Bass Strait!

4.00

It was drizzling and still cold but we decided not to have an afternoon nap, tempting though this was – we had been up, may I remind you, since 4.30 am – and we took the tender in to the beach for a bit of exploration. There were two campsites one for boat campers, one for hikers - not sure why this very clear distinction. The boat campers’ site was great. People had gone to a lot of trouble engraving the names of their boats, and sometimes their own names and achievements, eg Bill and Ted kayaked all the way from Woop-Wooperella – on planks, which were displayed between big posts which must have been put there by National Parks and Wildlife rangers. Pete thought I should go back to the beach and leave him on the boat with a comforting beer and a book; I could spend a useful hour or two whittling something witty and amusing to commemorate the brief visit of 2XS. I declined this opportunity for creativity, you maybe be surprised to hear.

There were a few walks on offer, to other tempting sounding coves and a look-out. We did walk just a few kilometres up one of the tracks, and got to a beautiful view of our little bay, with 2XS peacefully at anchor, surrounded by dense bush, tweeting birds, jade green water. After some consideration of the very up and down track still ahead of us, we decided that we had indeed reached THE look-out, and went back to the boat for cups of tea and/or beer.

Usually we get in and out of the tender with a modicum of dignity. Sometimes we take off our shoes and socks and wade; easier to dry our feet than our shoes and socks. This time Pete had a complicated plan which involved me hopping onto a rock then into the tender as the waves went in and out while he did pushed the boat out a bit and did something similar ahead of me. Oh oops…a loud splash and a cry of despair – he had at least one very wet leg and one very wet foot, having done an inelegant little dance off the designated rock. I, on the other hand, was able to follow the plan perfectly and step neatly, dry-footed, into the tender, because he had already done the hard yards.

While we were on Flinders I spent a few very stressful hours trying to download an audiobook onto my ipod. Yes I know this is as simple as can be and several kind and good people have shown me just how simple it it…but…it wasn’t . Next time I will do it in seconds with a merry laugh, I am sure. The problem wasn’t downloading and paying for it; that was a cinch. My issue was – I couldn’t find the rotten thing anywhere on my computer, although iTunes assured me that they had “sent” it to me and taken my money forthwith. And then when I finally did find it…how to get it from my computer onto my ipod… I’m not sure how I did achieve this; maybe next time there will be muttering and waving of hands in the air again…

Anyway…after all of that I have Stephen Fry’s Chronicles, and very entertaining they are. They could hardly be more removed from my life on 2XS if they tried, mind you. This life of writing, acting, BBC, comedy, London, country houses, is a world away from Bass Strait… My ipod is wonderful. But…every now and then it decides I want to start at the beginning again. My friend Stephen very considerately reads out chapter headings every few minutes, so it’s not too hard to fast forward and find my place again, but I must say I have listened to some of his stories far more than once…

Friday 8.00am

We are just going past a town – Port Albert, I think. So I am going to seize the opportunity of having some sort of connection. We got up a 4.00 again… On our way to Lakes Entrance. It is a lovely day but FREEZING!