It’s been a while coming but here is the final leg of our journey home.
My son, Rob, flew up to Brisbane to join us for the trip down to the lake. He sure
got the whole sailing experience in 4 days.
We decided to leave on the Tuesday morning, the plan being to get to Lake Macquarie by the Saturday before Christmas. After taking on fuel at Rivergate we motored down the river to Moreton Bay. Half way across to the Eastern Channel we got some sail up and had a good run motor sailing around the top of Moreton Island. It’s a long way in the wrong direction but there is no way we were going to be able to get Wind Wanderer through all the shallows and sand banks to make the exit at Southport.
Through the night we struggled to get offshore but eventually we were able to head south. It wasn’t long before the wind died completely and we took the sails in and motored. When at last a bit of wind arrived we were able to make reasonable headway, until the transmission started slipping, again.
We had been running it from the Brisbane River, about 36 hours.
In Brisbane we’d found the problem on entering there was a failed oil cooler that let water into the transmission. We replaced it, flushed out the transmission, checked pressure and all was well.
This time it was a seal that let go and we were losing the fluid into the bell housing.
We now had enough wind to keep sailing, in fact we had such good conditions we
were flying with very little heel. At 8-9 knots it was as good as it gets. It’s not that
often that we get everything so right there is not a single thing left to tweek, and I
was glad Rob was getting to see this old girl fly.
From doubting we could get to the lake before Sunday, we now had the problem of getting there before daylight on Saturday. In fact midnight Friday night was looking likely. None of this was good.
We needed light and a high tide to make it across the coal seam bar at Swansea, up the narrow Swansea channel to the opening bridge, and then up the notoriously shallow stretch past Pelican and into the deeper waters of Lake Macquarie.
I decided to head a bit further off shore to add some distance and get in at daylight. The last thing we needed was to overshoot the entrance and have to beat back against wind and current with a dicky transmission.
I had managed to phone the mob we’d used in Brisbane and once we’d identified where the fluid was going, we were told we could run the engine without doing damage as long as we had transmission fluid to keep pouring in. I was saving the bit we had for the run up the channel.
Heading off shore gave Rob yet another bit of life at sea experience. Things break.
The wind was strong and we had everything sheeted in tight. All of a sudden there was a loud bang right next to the cockpit and the Yankee up front changed shape. In the dark it took a moment before we could see what had happened. The heavy stainless steel track on the port side was bent into a J shape with the front couple of feet where the traveler was, sticking straight up in the air.
We let go the sheet and furled the sail.
It didn’t take long to work out I could slide the traveler off the bent end, unscrew the stopper from the good end and slide the traveler back on. This gave us use of the Yankee again with the traveler further aft, where there are in fact more fastenings to take the strain.
After all that, we hadn’t ventured very far off shore when the wind fell off and then died. We had all four sails up and were struggling to make 2 knots. We topped up the transmission and started motor ‘sailing’. At least we could control our arrival time. Or so we thought.
The lack of wind didn’t last for long before our worst nightmare arrived. A strong southerly hit and we had to reduce sail and motor. With the strong wind against the current it didn’t take long to build into a big, steep sea. We were pounding into it with a zig zag pattern but only making 2.5 knots. There was no way we were going to reach Swansea for the 11am high tide and we seriously considered going into Newcastle.
While the approach and entry would have been easy, there are no easy anchorages there so we would have limped in to the marina and been stuck there until someone could replace the transmission seal.
With only Monday and half of Tuesday 24th Dec left before everyone shuts down until sometime in January, it would be a long and expensive stay.
Marinas are notoriously expensive for the budget traveler. Besides, we far prefer the freedom of an anchor in a quiet bay somewhere.
I contacted the marina and they did have a berth available, so knowing we had a plan B if we needed it we pushed on to the Swansea bar.
Off Redhead the transmission started slipping and we killed the engine and topped up the transmission. The last top up had given us 5 hours steaming hard so with Swansea less than 2 hours away we had a comfortable margin to get us into the lake.
I had spoken to Lake Macquarie Marine Rescue a few times and they were confident we would get into the lake if we used the deepest areas. They were even prepared to meet us on the lake side of the bridge to guide us in, local knowledge being an essential
ingredient!
The tide was running out as we crossed the bar a full 3 hours past the high. We cleared it by half a meter and I decided right then we’d hook up to one of the courtesy moorings just before the bridge and wait for a full high tide before tackling the channel from the bridge to the lake.
As we came up the channel we could see family and friends on the shore up ahead to welcome us home.
It really was a special moment.
The outgoing tide was running swiftly but the 2 courtesy moorings were both vacant and we headed for them.
About 75 meters to go…
Sandy and Rob went forward with the boat hook. This was one mooring pick we wanted to get right first time so the family could see we knew our stuff and all their fears had been groundless.
Suddenly the engine revs shot up and we quickly lost momentum against the current. That #%&@ (pirate language) transmission had failed.
The channel is narrow and rocky right there but for a moment we still had reverse and it looked like we might make it backwards to the sandy side and get the anchor down. Reverse lasted all of 10 seconds.
I radioed Marine Rescue with our emergency, location, and that we were going to be on the rocks in 3 minutes. As it happened they had their very latest rescue craft, commissioned the week before, checking depths for us up the channel on the lake side of the bridge.
We could hear their sirens and bells going as the bridge made an emergency opening to let them through. They were flying. I could only spend a moment wondering about the traffic chaos we were causing while we wrestled with the anchor. Believe it or not this was the moment it decided to have a switch failure. In the heavy seas from New Caledonia salt water had worked its way in and corroded a wire.
At last we got the anchor down but it was too late to save us completely from washing onto the rocks. To our amazement, just when we felt that every sea god had abandoned us, we came to rest against the heavily seaweeded rocks.
We didn’t wash back with the current, we just sat there.
Within minutes LM 30 Rescue was there and with their new, powerful engines got us back into the channel. They felt they could tow us right into the lake so we headed for the bridge. This time it opened in a far more orderly fashion.
What a home coming. But it wasn’t over yet!
We waived to all those family and friends who had come to welcome us as we followed our leader to the bridge. The channel makes a 90 degree turn on the lake side of the bridge and the fast tidal flow carries everything to the southern side.
The rescue boat obviously didn’t realize the extent to which that flow would affect us and with no power ourselves we had little maneuverability. We ended up having our port shrouds scrape along the steel bridge making a screech that would raise the
dead. But fortunately, no damage.
We then headed up the channel.
The first grounding took a bit of grunt to get us over, but the second one had us glued to the bottom. Eventually the Maritime Authority boat turned up and said there was no way we’d get in without a full high tide. But he knew a deep spot just out of the channel where we could anchor for the night. He’d be back to pull us over the last sand bank on the top of the tide tomorrow, 3pm.
Between them they got us to the deep spot and we dropped anchor.
So, that was our glorious arrival after sailing nearly half way around the world.
And we weren’t home yet. Rob grabbed a lift ashore with the rescue boat. His parting words were “Thanks for the sail down, and the near death experiences!”
Fortunately Rod, a good friend has a boat big enough and he brought most of our 'welcoming committee' out to us. It was a grand reunion after nearly 2 years away.
The next morning we had more family on board, Russ and my sister Meg, and around lunchtime we took our dinghy ashore to catch up with my daughter, Marian and Craig. With only weeks to go until the birth of their first baby, it was too risky to take them out to the boat, but it was a very happy reunion too.
At 3pm on the top of the tide we headed for the last hurdle into the lake.
The Maritime Authority boat pulled us out into the channel, and straight onto
the sand bar! He heaved and grunted and I had topped up our transmission with the last bit of fluid so added our 120 horses.
The water boiled around us but we never moved an inch.
While we were doing battle with the sand bank a large cruiser started angling its way towards us. We’re used to having boats of every description coming up close for a good look at our little ship, and who could blame them. But surely not now!
Just when Sandy and I were muttering about ‘idiotic cruisers’, complete with very descriptive piratey epithets, this one sidled up and when close, opened up with both
his big inboard engines. His boat leapt forward as his transom buried itself a good 2 ft, setting up a wake we would normally curse him for.
The wave he generated lifted us just enough that the forward pull of the tow boat catapulted us over the bar and we slid into the lake. Our knight in shining armour then followed us into the lake, ready to serve again if required. I’ve had to change my opinion of cruisers, well at least one of them. And Rod of course!
We got towed to our position of choice in Warners Bay at the top end of the lake. Reasonable shelter, an easy dinghy ride to a shopping centre, and the closest spot to catch up with family.
We were home at last!
Until next time…