Leeuwin Again
Blow Fish has rejoined her element (September 2020) bound once again to Cape Leeuwin and beyond. Cape Leeuwin is where Bill King's Galway Blazer was nearly sunk after being rammed by a great white (subsequently repaired at Marko's yard in Fremantle), it is the site of ship wrecks such as the Pericles, indeed it is the area where I once encountered a rogue wave (and so discovered such waves are no myth). More about Cape Leeuwin anon. Let me comment on the adjacent picture.
Last time Blow Fish was in Albany we had the very good fortune to meet Ian of Maid Marion. Ian, as is befitting of a real sailor, is highly skilled in turning wood into parts for boats, building spars, building buckets (no plastic nonsense for Ian), and building oars as seen in the photo on Blow Fish's deck. So one day Ian turns up and announces to me that he's decided Blow Fish and I need a sculling oar and invited me to his workshop to view progress. The very next day the finished product was delivered. I was completely gob smacked at such generosity and kindness as was shown by my new found friend. Anyway the oar was lashed to the deck but could not be used since I had no sculling notch or similar. Since then Blow Fish now has proper deck stowage for the oar as you can see, and the sculling notch issue has also been addressed.
Last time Blow Fish was in Albany we had the very good fortune to meet Ian of Maid Marion. Ian, as is befitting of a real sailor, is highly skilled in turning wood into parts for boats, building spars, building buckets (no plastic nonsense for Ian), and building oars as seen in the photo on Blow Fish's deck. So one day Ian turns up and announces to me that he's decided Blow Fish and I need a sculling oar and invited me to his workshop to view progress. The very next day the finished product was delivered. I was completely gob smacked at such generosity and kindness as was shown by my new found friend. Anyway the oar was lashed to the deck but could not be used since I had no sculling notch or similar. Since then Blow Fish now has proper deck stowage for the oar as you can see, and the sculling notch issue has also been addressed.
Here you see an Italian made nylon oarlock mounted on Blow Fish's transom and so Ian's sculling oar can now be used. Nylon is a good choice as it is exceptionally tough, does not rust, and most importantly is very kind to the oar's wooden loom. The set up depicted was copied from a similar installation in my paradox, Small Fry, in which the arrangement had worked well with her yuloh.
Speaking of Small Fry, let me mention she has a new owner, Gary, who has had her out sailing several times already. I am pleased that she is getting time in the water again and that her new owner is 'good people'. But I digress, what about Cape Leeuwin?
Speaking of Small Fry, let me mention she has a new owner, Gary, who has had her out sailing several times already. I am pleased that she is getting time in the water again and that her new owner is 'good people'. But I digress, what about Cape Leeuwin?
To round Cape Leeuwin, Blow Fish and I parked out butts at Quindalup, a very popular anchorage in summer, and waited for the right moment approach Leeuwin. To go around starting from Quindalup requires one to head north and then west to round Cape Naturaliste before then being able to head south down to Cape Leeuwin. Once enough southing has been made (keeping in mind there are many dangers lying well south of the Cape) one can begin to head more to the south east which will eventually result in rounding the Cape and have you more or less on the bearing of Point D'Entrecasteaux (how is this word pronounced? If I just take a phonetic approach it sounds awfully like someone throwing up). All well and good but, if you've been paying attention you'll have noticed we need a wind from the south, east, north, and west to make our rounding. Through winter the Cape is hammered by an endless succession of often violent gales and storms arriving from the west, while in summer one is more likely to encounter howling south easterlies which are like trying to sail through a brick wall. Add to this that big southern ocean swells roll in from the south west from very deep water suddenly encountering quite shallow water near the Cape, and perhaps you begin to get the picture that this Cape is not always straight forward to round in a sailing vessel. Right, I'll come back to Cape Leeuwin in a moment after I tell you about the dinghy shown.
On her last cruise Blow Fish carried a very cheap inflatable such as a child might have as a pool toy. It was very compact and light weight, but unfortunately was a tad difficult to paddle in anything other than glassy calm conditions, and in the end proved to be rather lacking durability. I had to revert to swimming to and from shore during that cruise, which is ok if the object is to have a swim, but not so convenient for obtaining provisions to restock Blow Fish's lockers.
Well my friend, Roselt, came to the rescue with a donation of a good, if somewhat dilapidated, plywood dinghy which he had built many years earlier to the 'Apple Pie' design. What you see in the picture began with Roselt's dinghy. But the first obvious challenge was the question of how to carry a seven foot tender aboard seventeen foot Blow Fish?
On her last cruise Blow Fish carried a very cheap inflatable such as a child might have as a pool toy. It was very compact and light weight, but unfortunately was a tad difficult to paddle in anything other than glassy calm conditions, and in the end proved to be rather lacking durability. I had to revert to swimming to and from shore during that cruise, which is ok if the object is to have a swim, but not so convenient for obtaining provisions to restock Blow Fish's lockers.
Well my friend, Roselt, came to the rescue with a donation of a good, if somewhat dilapidated, plywood dinghy which he had built many years earlier to the 'Apple Pie' design. What you see in the picture began with Roselt's dinghy. But the first obvious challenge was the question of how to carry a seven foot tender aboard seventeen foot Blow Fish?
It was clear that the dinghy would have to be smaller, perhaps of the nesting type, but even then there is nowhere on deck which is not already fully used for other purposes. In the picture you can see the solution was to create a three part nesting dinghy stowed below. Additionally the freeboard was reduced, both transoms replaced with much more vertical transoms, and the stern transom now includes a chine, some of the length removed, and the flare at both ends reduced quite a bit. The result is a dinghy of quite different design to the original Apple Pie, but nonetheless it was my friends generous contribution which provided the initial impetus to spend the winter months creating a hard tender which does, as you can see, fit comfortably below. It was a bit tricky getting the parts to nest properly, but after literally cutting and pasting a few times she eventually got there. The dinghy ended up six foot three inches, paddles beautifully with a double paddle, and is fitted with a notch for sculling lest I ever get around to making a short sculling oar for her.
Now, a final paragraph is needed to wrap up my commentary on Cape Leeuwin. I write aboard Blow Fish who is anchored in Albany, so how did we get around the Cape? We sat in Quindalup watching for our chance. A big low was heading our way, but with centre quite far south and the associated fronts looked to be relatively weak as far north as Cape Leeuwin, so we made sail. The wind came from the east, then veered to the north, and by the time we got down to the cape it veered to the north west, and later after we had rounded veered right around to the west. By jumping on the low we ended up with a fair wind the whole way around. A fair wind the entire way to Albany in fact. The only downside is that there were of course somewhat strong winds, thirty knots as had been forecast which is a comfortable strength from a sailing point of view but does kick up a bit of a chop over a few days. When the first front came in there was a series of violent squalls, each lasting for between five and fifteen minutes. During this we lay hove to and after about four or five hours the front had done its worst and the wind was back to a steady thirty knots. The wind then slowly reduced in speed such that by the time we reached Eclipse Island (Albany) we barely had a breeze at all. The passage from Quindalup to Albany all up was just under five days sailing.
Now, a final paragraph is needed to wrap up my commentary on Cape Leeuwin. I write aboard Blow Fish who is anchored in Albany, so how did we get around the Cape? We sat in Quindalup watching for our chance. A big low was heading our way, but with centre quite far south and the associated fronts looked to be relatively weak as far north as Cape Leeuwin, so we made sail. The wind came from the east, then veered to the north, and by the time we got down to the cape it veered to the north west, and later after we had rounded veered right around to the west. By jumping on the low we ended up with a fair wind the whole way around. A fair wind the entire way to Albany in fact. The only downside is that there were of course somewhat strong winds, thirty knots as had been forecast which is a comfortable strength from a sailing point of view but does kick up a bit of a chop over a few days. When the first front came in there was a series of violent squalls, each lasting for between five and fifteen minutes. During this we lay hove to and after about four or five hours the front had done its worst and the wind was back to a steady thirty knots. The wind then slowly reduced in speed such that by the time we reached Eclipse Island (Albany) we barely had a breeze at all. The passage from Quindalup to Albany all up was just under five days sailing.
There are more corners to get around on the way to Albany, one of which is marked by Chatham Island. The morning after the front had passed we were sailing about eight miles offshore from Chatham Island when this container ship appeared on the horizon astern of us and well inshore. As the ship approached she had her helm well over and managed to cross behind us to pass slightly to seaward. The other ship in this photo heading west was very much further out to sea. Now there happens to be a Traffic Separation Scheme in place at this location, and had the captain of the container ship been following the scheme, the container ship would have passed to starboard of the other ship in this picture. I estimate that when we first sighted the container ship she would have been no more than five miles off shore (pretty much on top of a buoyed wreck at that location). The separation scheme is supposed to stop this corner cutting in order to reduce the possibility of collisions and to protect the environment. The scheme, however, is not mandatory and so captains like the one in charge of this ship can do as they please. It would not be nice of me to say derogatory things about captains whose circumstances I know nothing about, so rather than tell you what was going through my mind, I dealt with the matter appropriately on the spot.
The natural thing to do was to hex the offending ship which immediately sank like a stone. Problem gone!
Before long we were peacefully anchored in Princess Royal Harbour just off Camp Quaranup where as a boy I celebrated my twelfth birthday during a school camp. Little did I realise I would one day return aboard Blow Fish. If this is the result of Karma I must have been an amazingly good person in my previous lives. Hmmm... on further reflection, maybe it wasn't such a good idea to sink that container ship... uh oh!
In addition to great anchorages and fantastic sailing, Albany offers some beautiful bushwalks quite close to town. This photo shows emu point as seen from nearby bushland.
I wouldn't call myself a wild flower enthusiast as such, but the profusion of wild flowers at this time of year is quite jaw dropping. The variety seems endless. This photo is just one of countless different types of flowers in bloom observed on a single short walk in the bush. In the background is King George Sound.
Returning to Blow Fish anchored in Johnsons Cove, Oyster Harbour, after bushwalking.
And as if Albany didn't have enough going for it already, it is full of awesome sailors with awesome boats. This photo show's Maurice's Spear, the most unusual Etchell ever in existence. They don't normally come with a cabin, particularly not one which was previously part of an MB21. Spear not only has a cabin, but she comes complete with a solid fuel heater with flue rising up through the cabin top. The 'Z' on Spear's sail stands for 'Zen'. The word 'Zen' is also engraved on the tiller, and Maurice is indeed a super relaxed sailor. I suspect that what is a source of stress for others is a source of calm for Maurice.
Another walk following tracks in the bush. This time from Johnson's cove through to Coal Basket Bay. This bay has fresh water springs running into it from further up the hill. On this walk I encountered a group of three walkers. I asked how they had got themselves into this area to walk? The only apparent access from town is by water, so it seemed to me, there's nothing but miles of bush land in the other direction, and the ocean beyond that. They were a bit puzzled at my question, but after a garbled attempt to explain what I was asking they said they'd driven to Ledge Beach. Where did you start, they asked, even more perplexed. As we were almost back at Johnsons Cove during this conversation I was able to point out Blow Fish and said my dinghy was down on the beach. The lights came on, their faces showed finally understanding what I was on about. It shows what a very different perspective one has when arriving in a place by water. The connectedness of land is not so much in the immediate consciousness. Perhaps my ability to talk to 'normal' people has become a bit rusty.
Going ashore on a mundane mission, a walk to the grocery store, I found Darren's latest customer about to be lifted out. So of course I hung about (so to speak) with camera at the ready. The bloke at the left of the picture dressed all in black must represent the villain. Why else would he be dressed in black? He told me that this pilot boat is out for survey and that he is the surveyor (so I guess the villainous quality is a matter of perspective). She must be surveyed in water every three years, and also comes out for survey every five years. The out of water survey is very comprehensive including, for example, pulling out the two propeller shafts connected to each of the two Cummins engines. The shafts are to be inspected for wear and pitting. He said this boat is the very latest in technology being only six or so years old. The surveyor also went on to tell me what an outstanding, very professional outfit the Emu Point yard is (and that was volunteered without being aware I am a friend of the yard owner). Witnessing this event and getting the scoop was an exciting way to get the day started, and the walk to the grocery store after was really quite pleasant.
Albany is quite an addictive place, and feeling that I was in danger of turning into a barnacle attached to Albany for ever, it seemed prudent to do a little more cruising to the east. After riding out some nasty weather in Princess Royal Harbour we got under way with a big sea running but a fair wind. Within a couple of days we lay hove to as yet more nasty weather rolled through. At least it was going our way, so not too much was lost. To cut to the chase, we visited Isrealite Bay, and later Daw Island (pictured) before heading out into the Great Australian Bight. Good progress was made to the east. Nearing Eucla, about fifty miles to the south west, it was just barely possible to pick up an Esperance radio station. Lots of static, but the commentators words were able to be understood. A news broadcast said that South Australia had experienced an outbreak, and the Western Australian premier had closed the boarder to people coming from South Australia.
On the strength of this news it seemed perhaps it wasn't too wise to be crossing state borders just at the moment. Acting quickly before having a chance to get stuck in a state of indecision, I put the helm down and we began a rather long sail, thanks to yet more adverse weather, back to Daw Island. The picture shown is inside the Daw Island anchorage. We stayed overnight watching the barometre plunging and next day sailed to Middle Island getting a mighty shove on the way there from an easterly gale. We got the anchor down just as it was becoming dark. A very wild night followed, but it seemed luxury after sailing in crazy winds and big breaking seas all day. Three nights were spent at Middle Island, and then we made another epic day sail to Lucky Bay with more insanely strong easterlies, though not quite as bad as the previous batch. The barometre was again very low and still falling. In the middle of the night we made sail in very light airs moving from the east side of the bay to the west. Here we stayed for two nights as gale force winds from the west struck bringing some squally rain showers. After that passed we set sail again in a light south westerly and a substantial swell, bound for Esperance where we are now anchored.
The barometre is again dropping with a front heading our way, however this time it looks only to be around thirty knots which will be a welcome change.
All this anchoring has been made so much easier than my previous cruise thanks to the addition of a 'bow roller' on the foredeck. It is ugly, but uber-functional allowing rope, chain, shackles, and seaweed to be hauled on board with ease. The roller is a boat trailer keel roller, and the axle cut from galvanised round bar stock.
All this anchoring has been made so much easier than my previous cruise thanks to the addition of a 'bow roller' on the foredeck. It is ugly, but uber-functional allowing rope, chain, shackles, and seaweed to be hauled on board with ease. The roller is a boat trailer keel roller, and the axle cut from galvanised round bar stock.
In Esperance, the best anchorage is actually inside the port, and so one has breakfast with views like this.
However, as interesting as shipping may be, my thoughts were drifting further west, and so off we went with a fair wind to carry us away.
However, as interesting as shipping may be, my thoughts were drifting further west, and so off we went with a fair wind to carry us away.
As it turned out we made a stop for just one night at Bremer Bay before continuing on to Albany...
...where the sunsets are better...
...and the locals more friendly.
We remained in Albany for the new year fireworks, of which a good view was had from the Quaranup anchorage. New years day was as good a day as any to continue sailing, so off we went in a strong easterly. There were strong wind warnings seemingly for eternity, but as the wind was fair it was no great hardship. It didn't take too long before we were around Cape Leeuwin. A brief stop was made at Hamlin bay to catch up with friends, and then onward until... What The Heck! Becalmed! At Cape Naturaliste (depicted). In decades of rounding this cape I do not recall ever being becalmed here. Anyway, notwithstanding this shocking experience, we eventually made it around and headed on to Bunbury where we remained a few days to inspect Maurice's life boat and to participate in a twilight race aboard Dave's cat, which was very pleasant. Finally we continued on back toward Fremantle, anchoring at Woodman point for a few days, and then back to The Cruising Yacht Club where I received the usual welcome of being told I could not pull my boat out just yet as the racing fleet were about the fill the ramp, and besides which the tractor had a broken clutch cable. Never mind, Blow Fish spent the night on a mooring, while I was taken ashore by my friends Roselt and Maureen who welcomed me home and celebrated the end of a successful four month cruise. The next day Roselt and 'Dingo' helped me get Blow Fish back on her jinker and into her shore berth with the aid of Dingo's very grunty 4x4.