Wednesday 28^th March

We are in Strahan, beautiful Strahan, on the rugged West Coast.  The sun is shining and we have removed our coats!  Coming through fabled and fearsome Hell’s Gates was like traversing a gentle millpond – how lucky were we!  Well, not really lucky; Pete, as usual, has been assiduous in his attention to weather forecast, long and short term.  We left our lovely anchorage in Kenneth Bay, off Sandy Cape, at 5am so as to get to Hell’s Gates by midday, the best time for tide and current, in the normally turbulent conditions which prevail here.  So how lovely to cruise in, with barely a ripple on the tannin-brown water.  And…we got to the entrance of the harbour at 12.10, just ten minutes later than Pete had planned – he really is extremely punctual, with this boat

Our trip down the coast has been just glorious, with the reefs and mountains of the South West on our left, and flocks of albatross on our right.  I would have said until now that albatross are solitary birds, but they have been gathering in small flocks and behaving like seagulls around the fishing boats.

Yesterday we passed a large rock, or small island, take your pick.  Pete pointed out that the lumps on top of the island were seals, lots of them, sitting happily on their vantage point.  Every now and then a large series of waves would splash over the rock, in most spectacular fashion, no doubt drenching the seals, who just lay there, placidly, enjoying their spa.

Last night we played a most peculiar game of chess, in which we both lost our queens very early on and then had a fairly indiscriminate slaughter.  I’m not sure who played the worst game… More practice is in order, I think.

When we got into Strahan, we pulled up at a solid wharf, which is festooned with signs saying PRIVATE BERTHS.  Oh those old signs, said the locals on the wharf, disparagingly.  Don’t pay any attention, just tied up here, nobody will care.  So here we are, snugly tied up, feeling warm and comfortable.  Our only issue right now is to decide whether to eat leftovers from last night (some sort of mince mixture created by Pete,) fish and chips takeaways, or a pub meal.

(We are also exercising our minds over our itinerary… We have to get to Launceston on Good Friday for Pete’s daughter Nicole’s 40^th birthday party, and there seems to be no easy exit from Strahan.  There is a bus, but it only goes Mondays and Wednesdays, and there are no car hire possibilities on the Wild West Coast.  Never mind, we will find an elegant solution I am sure.)