Thursday 19^th January

We have left our Tipplers Passage anchorage.  (And thank you Elsa for your very appropriate comment re Tipplers Passage...)  No wonder we stuck so fast…the anchored and chain was completely coated with thick gooey mud.  We had stuck, as Pete so elegantly says, like shit to a blanket.

The old codger on the boat next to us, also anchored in the mud, he said, until Australia Day, came out to wave goodbye.  As far as we could tell he hadn’t moved from his cabin, not for a swim, not for a walk.  We had caught glimpse of him occasionally emptying a bucket over the back, and he was at those times happy to chat with Pete across the water.  We tried to imagine what he was doing inside, all alone.  But…he wasn’t alone!  When he came out to say goodbye, there, standing shyly behind him, was a dear little wifey person.  So funny, the people we have come across, who just anchor their boats in a beautiful bay, and then…they sit inside, gently pootling.  Maybe reading?  Watching DVDs?  Snoozing?  Certainly not paying any attention to the water, the scenery, the birds!  Not sure why they can’t do this at home…

We had a lovely few hours slowly making our way up the Couran River to Gold Coast City Marina (Flagship Marine Services – they deserve a plug,), to get the oil changed and the engines checked.  We had been here last year, and had caused a nice young mechanic, Steve, to spend a whole hot sweaty day down the engine hatch, trying, a bit unsuccessfully, to fix a mysterious knocking sound.  Imagine his joy to have the manager, Charlie, say, “Drop everything, Steve, and come and change the oil on 2XS!”  To his credit he smiled brightly and chatted to me about the South Pacific as we walked back down to the boat.

It is lovely, going up the river.  On one side it is typical Gold Coast, with new-age palazzos, enormous doll’s houses, huge expanses of glass, floating pontoons replete with large boats.  And on the other side…primeval swamp.  Mangroves, eucalypts, and possibly hundreds of snakes, mud crabs, prawns hatching.  At one stage we passed close by a large eagle preening itself in a tree overhanging the river.  Above it swooped a small sea hawk, and right behind the boat, a large flock of ibis swooped towards the mangroves.

The weather is beautiful.  They have withdrawn the gale warning and it is hot and sunny, with nary a puff of wind.  2XS needs a few urgent bits of work – the engine service, a new anchor chain and gypsy (a sort of anchor winch…) – so it will be a few days before we can head south.  Not sure where we will stay tonight.  Pete is keenly looking for anchorages along the river; I am more attracted to going back to the marina at Sanctuary Cove so I can get my bike onto shore and stretch those unfit sea-legs…

Wednesday 18^th January

We are still anchored in Tipplers Passage, being very lazy.  The cold snap has gone, and it has been hot and sunny and very beautiful here.  I have been for two swims, one a.m, one p.m, and am now yawning hugely over my computer…

Once we get going we will be very grateful for these days of rest and recuperation, I am sure.

Tuesday 17^th January

It was 29 in Hobart yesterday…

We spoke to Pete’s sister Lynne, who was frolicking on the beach with her daughter and grandchildren at 5pm, in warm water and brilliant sunshine.  Here, off South Stradbroke Island, it was trying very hard to get up to 20 – overcast, drizzly.  The next time someone shudders and says they couldn’t live in Tasmania because of the foul climate I will…no I won’t slap them merrily about the head but I will want to…

Do we mind the inclement weather??  Not at all!  I have been swimming every day, just a few laps round and round the boat.  We have been for a walk, across the island to the big long wild surf beach, and along to a few campsites.  And the rest of the time we have been gently bobbing about on the sea, reading books and listening to all of the new music I downloaded while we were in Hobart.  It is very restful and pleasant.

We are anchored in Tipplers Passage, and we can’t really leave, even if we want to, because the weather Out There on the sea is – frightful!  Winds of around 60 knots do not entice us to heaving-ho!  I feel so sorry for the people who live in the area, where the floods and rains were so devastating last year.  They must be looking up at the grey skies with dread in their hearts.

This isn’t a good place for snorkeling – the water is pretty, warm and green, but with no visibility, and I think even if we could see, we would only see a few startled flathead and bream, and a few fishing lines from the smattering of determined anglers on the shore.  When I go for my daily swim, I am watched by a small flotilla of little brown ducks, and a lone pelican, who keep a steady eye on me, as I do on them.  They are not a disappointment to me, but I fear I am to them…I do not swim with a trail of yummy breadcrumbs or fish skeletons in my wake.

Sunday 15^th January

We have had a wonderful and most memorable month in Tasmania.

Now we are back in Queensland, trying to leave Sanctuary Cove marina…

Oh dear and oh no – what is Pete doing??  We are tied up to the fuel wharf and he is down in the engines, with Nick, the lovely young marina boat mechanic, trying to MacGuyver the steering, which doesn’t seem to be working at all.  Well not working in the way one would like steering to work… I am happily sitting at the table with my computer and my new internet connection thingy, all working well.  It is warm, and drizzly.  My role in the steering debacle is to make soothing sounds and keep out of the way.

Other than that the boat looks well, very clean and shiny after a few days with Cam and Del on board.  They bought it a new pump for the dinghy, some white china mugs, a can opener (yes we did have one but maybe it was a bit tinny Solomons-Islands-ish…).  The fridge didn’t seem to want to work at all; I think it was sulking after a month of neglect – Cam and Del didn’t use it or turn it on.  But now it is happily doing its job, making things cold, freezing some ice for our nightly G & T.

Last night we took Tim and Sally, our Tasmanian/Gold Coast friends, to dinner, with Twyla, my Tasmanian/Brisbane sister-in-law.  We went back to George’s Paragon seafood restaurant, and it was absolutely delicious, yet again.  Pete and I had the special – lobster mornay with steamed veggies.  Tim and Sally had picked us up from the airport in Coolangatta, fed us a lovely salad lunch in their wonderful new house on the Broadwater, and lent us their ute (The Uterus again) to buy a boatload of groceries.  We did one spasm of shopping in Aldi before going back into the more familiar territory of Coles.  Aldi, as my brother Pete has always said, is like being in a different world.  Strange brands…where are they from??  Much stranger than in any of the Pacific Island city supermarkets.  I felt quite relieved when we finished in Aldi and moved on to Coles – Coon cheese, not Coan, Duck River butter, not Butterly butter… Aldi is just too Twilight Zone for my liking.

I think I will post this, ummm, post, and maybe write a little bit about our Tasmanian month, once the steering issue is resolved – I am sure everyone reading this will be holding their collective breath for a resolution of the problem.  (Steering is important…)

Tuesday 10^th January 2012

Not so warm today…I don’t think I will be plunging into the sea at Cremorne with such alacrity as I did two days ago.  They have predicted snow to 1200 metres, I think.  No probs; all weather is good, in one way or another…

Pete has gone to a funeral – the second since we have been home.  This one is in Oatlands, the other was in a small chapel in the outskirts of Launceston.  I went with him, a bit reluctantly – I had never the very old lady, Aunty Dot, who had died at 91.  There were only twelve people in the chapel, close family members… They were thrilled to see Pete, whose parents were great friends of Aunty Dot and Uncle Bill, and were very kind and welcoming to me.  I tried very hard not to feel like a funeral crasher… It was all very nice, really.  Not too much sorrow, just some gentle reminiscences about a much loved mother, grandmother, great grandmother.

I have been meaning to write about the strange little sea creature Pete and I stalked when we were snorkeling in Blue Lagoon in the Louisiades.  It was about the same size and shape as a pug, and seemed to be able to move forwards and backwards with equal ease.  It had a graceful beige sort of frill around the bottom edge, and some sort of tentacle arrangement at the back or front, depending in which direction it was going.  It was very much aware of us and didn’t like us hovering overhead at all.  At first it just stayed still, hoping to be protected by its – well by its protective colouring!  It changed colour extremely swiftly as it moved over the sea floor, quite amazing to see.  At first it was speckled and brown, like the rocks, then as it moved over the reef it turned pink, blue, green, sandy.  We were entranced and followed the poor thing everywhere, for about ten minutes, no doubt making it feel very uncomfortable indeed.  We had no idea what it was – some sort of squiddy thing, possibly.  Since then we have identified it as something quite common – maybe a big cuttlefish.  But to us it will always be a mysterious and charming little PNG sea creature.

Monday 9^th January 2012

Yesterday I swam in the Tasmanian sea water… Twice!

And it was just beautiful, not a horrid shock, as I had feared, after warm tropical water over the past year.  The beach at Cremorne is so wonderful, with a soaring sea eagle, happy joggers, happy swimmers.

Family time, friend time - what could be better?

Saturday we will be back on 2XS after an extremely busy (and happy!) time in beautiful Tasmania.

More adventures to come, more swimming in waters of different temperature.  And I hope – no stingers, no crocodiles!  And can anyone tell me why jellysfish sting has to be so very painful?  Surely just a small ouchy-ouch moment would be enough to repel us from the jellyfish environment?  Irukanji jellyfish have a horrid stinging system.  Nothing happens until about 30 minutes after the poor unsuspecting human has left the water.  Then comes – stomach cramps, malaise, and a general sense of impending doom.  Lovely!  And soon after comes – intense pain!  Much too late, one would have thought, to protect the tiny Irukanji from the fearsome human!

4^th January 2012

A Launceston heat wave…

It is so beautiful here, on these hot, still days.  Reminds me of teenage years, walking downhill all the way to the Gorge with my much younger sisters, skipping cheerily, for a cool refreshing swim, then walking back UP the stinking hot steep hill with much younger sisters, trudging not skipping, complaining bitterly all the way… Was it worth the cool refreshing moments in the chilly Gorge waters??

Lots of lovely family reunion moments during our three days here, all is well with our world so far in 2012.

2XS  -This story is too sad…a salutary tale. 

Pete is quite strict about safety procedures on 2XS.  When we had Nick Wood on the boat, he increased our safety standards about 95%, with his good seamanship and knowledge of proper ways to store safety equipment etc.  So whenever anyone is new on the boat, we try to run through just a few basic safety issues IMMEDIATELY.  The most important thing is, what to do if you have a Man Overboard situation (MOB).  Nick ran us through a MOB drill between Lord Howe Island and Balls Pyramid, in rough seas, and it was certainly a big wake-up call.  We haven’t actually done this again, but we think about it, and talk about it, quite a lot. 

Basically, if you fall overboard at night in rough seas – you are a goner.  So the best thing is NOT to fall overboard.  We are very careful about attaching ourselves to harnesses and lanyards as soon as it is dark and as soon as we step outside the cabin.  (In fact I have just realised that the only time I undo my harness is when I am vomiting over the back of the boat, which is, obviously, the time at which I am most vulnerable and most WANTING to fall overboard…I told Pete and he said we will have to put an attachment point right where my favourite vomiting place is to be found.)

In daylight, it is more likely that a Man Overboard can be retrieved.  Most boats have an MOB function at the helm, which records the exact position at which the accident has occurred.  So the first thing you do, after emitting a few frantic squawks when someone has gone over the side, is to hold down the MOB button for four seconds.  Then you hurl safety equipment – a life ring etc – into the sea, hoping it will float towards the MOB.  Then…well there is a whole lot of other stuff which has to be done,

including turning the boat in a circle, keeping an eye on the MOB, etc etc.  Vital information for anyone stepping on any boat, all this procedural scary stuff, I think.

So my sad story…I’m not going to say where this occurred or give any details.  But a lovely lone sailorboy met a lovely lone young woman on a lovely tropical island.  They fell in love and he invited her to sail off into the sunset.  Wonderful stuff.  LOVELY in fact.  She had never been on a boat, but he was very knowledgeable and felt he could look after everything while they pursued their beautiful new love affair (lovely).  They were sailing around in a rough bit of sea one day when he noticed the dinghy needing attention.  So he reached over to tighten a rope or whatever it was that was bothering him, and he fell overboard.  His girlfriend had no idea what to do; she didn’t know how to turn the boat or drop the sails or do the MOB procedure in any way.  So she watched helplessly as he was swept away never to be seen again.

I don’t know what happened next.  Much weeping, I imagine.  She was rescued by people passing by on another yacht, because she didn’t know how to sail to the nearest safe harbor.  Too too sad…