We left Yeppoon this morning at a very civilised time – 11.00. No other boats were out on the water, but 2XS was on a mission – go south! We actually had a very pleasant trip, and managed to go at a respectable speed, around 8 knots. Our other recent days we have been battling against all manner of natural elements – wind, waves, tides, currents - and have hardly got above 5 knots.
The water was all very shallow, even way out almost out of sight of land, and it was mostly still a muddy brown colour. We went across a patch marked on the chart where the depth sounder indicated it was barely above 1 metre below the bottom of poor vulnerable 2XS. Pete’s eyes were very wide as we crossed this large expanse of very shallow water, but all was well, we didn’t run aground or even have a moment of scraping or panic.
Snapshot: We are anchored, as firmly as possible, in Pacific Creek, in amongst the mangroves and the shrieking cicadas. Pete is having a well-earned XXXX Gold and I am very happily sipping a cup of tea. All is well.
This creek is very wide and shallow and it meanders around amongst the mangroves for a long way. Alan Lucas, the author of our current bible, Cruising the Coral Coast, says, very sternly:
“Don’t swim here. The existence of crocodiles is beyond doubt.”
He also says this creek is a nice safe anchorage in a cyclone, but that there are sandflies and mosquitoes. As we made our way up, we came across an old wooden boat, Huon, moored in the middle of the creek. A very excited woman came out and waved at us so we backed up for a chat. She and her husband live on the boat, in the middle of nowhere. I asked how she was. “Look where we live!” she said, ecstatically waving her arms at the muddy water and the mangroves. “Why wouldn’t we be well?” Her husband, a more pragmatic character, came out and gave us advice on where to anchor and what awaits us at the end of The Narrows – a lively dodgem game of barges, boats, dredges, ferries and tugs coming in and out of Gladstone. He works on shore, and is building 30 kilometres of roads – from where to where we didn’t dare to ask… We asked about Alan Lucas’s warning and he laughed heartily. “No crocs,” he said. The crayfisherman moored near him has been here eight years without a sighting. “Crocs eat fish!” he shouted. “And…there aren’t any fish in this creek.” Not sure why not – it all looks very fertile and pleasant, for fish and for crocodiles. He also told us they have never seen a mosquito, which is a good thing. “But,” he added, “The sandflies are THIS big, and that’s between the eyes!” We were invited to envisage sandflies as big as sparrows…
We are leaving at 5am to get through The Narrows with the right sort of tide. Maybe we wil get to Bundaberg by nightfall.
Later in the day…ie 8.45 on 6th December…
So where are we?? Sitting in a dodgy anchorage in Graham Creek, at the other end of The Narrows.
So what happened? Well while I was sitting contentedly at the computer, in Pacific Creek, Pete was sipping his cold beer and muttering away about tide, wind, depth, times. Every now and then I would make a soothing humming sound indicating assent or support or outrage, whatever seemed to be the required tone. So imagine how startled I was when he suddenly leapt to his feet and said, “Right then, you agree, we’re off!” It was by then about 4.00pm and his idea was that we would get to The Narrows an hour or so before high tide. The rising water would then allow us through. This had been the plan for the following morning, but he had decided that this made Wednesday an impossibly long day, with no possibility of getting to Bundaberg in daylight.
The Narrows weren’t all that narrow, really. But…very shallow! We held our collective breath as we watched the depth sounder…would we get stuck? Would we run aground, ignominiously?? Well no…we managed to get through, following the jaunty red and green markers, until we got to Graham Creek. It was quite dark by then and we were totally bamboozled. Bright lights here and there, the electronic chart shrieking DANGEROUS TARGET every two or three seconds, icy sleety rain and high wind which made it very difficult to have a good look beyond the windscreen. Pete did a wonderful job steering us up the creek, but even he was beginning to sound just a wee bit high-pitched…
My job was to try to look though the sleet for flashing beacons and landmarks (I wasn’t very good at this) as well as pressing the ACKNOWLEDGE button every two or three seconds to stop the DANGEROUS TARGET shrieking thing – I excelled at this complicated task. (The DANGEROUS TARGET shrieking thing is one of our least favourite function of Pete’s very efficient, if eccentric, electronic chart system. It activates whenever there is a boat nearby. Thank you, we say, yes that’s great, we know now, we have seen it and identified it. NOW SHUT UP!! But…it doesn’t shut up…and here is no volume control so we are stuck with it.)
Pete got us to our anchorage, and I managed to cook a meal in the midst of The Narrows. I peeled the veggies on deck so I could try to look for flashing beacons etc, and then I popped up and down the stairs to prod and poke and stir. Dinner was ready more than an hour before we were actually able to stop and eat it so maybe it wasn’t QUITE as delicious as it otherwise might have been. But…we were so tired, and so hungry, by the time we stopped that we did a sterling job tucking into it. (Lamb and rosemary sausages from Yeppoon, mashed potatoes with lots of cheese, stir fried green beans, onions, zucchini, mushrooms. In case you were wondering…)
Now I am going to set my trusty iPhone alarm for 4am…will write again from…Bundaberg! But…maybe not… Pete is doing that muttering thing again. He is standing staring at the chart screen, with a whole lot of depth numbers rolling off his tongue. Maybe we have to up anchor and move again. Thank goodness we are FULL of food, and a lovely shared bottle of red wine…
Welcome to the world another beautiful baby girl, to our Rachel’s sister Sophie and her partner, Cameron (?) – Eleanor Mary. I have seen a photo and she is – wonderful! All these lovely new babies this year…I wonder if they will meet in the future and do that 6-degrees of separation thing?? For example…Matilda and Elektra and Eleanor and Jemima?? Blessings to them all…
9.30 OH NO...Pete is upping anchor...what next???
That alert machine sounds EVEN MORE ANNOYING than the time machine (if you are reading this in the opposite order to me see the comment from 7 December) x
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