Refuge Cove (Wilson's Promontory) Sunday18/4 to Tuesday 20/4

Anchored in Refuge Cove

You'd have thought that after the trevails of the previous night and the long hours at sea, we would have slept well into the day. Nothing could be less so, because with the dawn we arose with heavy eyes to assess our situation. In the light of the new day the natural grandeur of the cove was genuinely something to behold, and several boats had used the relative calm of the preceeding day to make the 20 or so miles from Welshpool or Port Albert to sup on the cove's delights. Surrounded by luxurious temperate forest, the cove has two beaches and hence anchorages, giving it protection from almost all quadrants of wind. Where we had anchored, however, lay narrowly exposed to the east, and we were rolling uneasily on the chain. We would need to shift to the calmer southerly section of the cove, and with weekend visitors departing we would soon have the best spots available to us. We reported in to Allan on the HF and soon were at work on the things that needed attention. Sleep would have to wait.

Our narrative of the previous night deliberately omitted one other issue of concern that we knew could wait for the new day. It was an issue to do with fuel. When planning this voyage we resolved that it would be essential to have a reliable motor of sufficient power to deal with conditions that we were likely to meet. The instillation of a new 40hp Yanmar marine diesel (replacing the ship's original and tired 28hp motor) on Calista was an expense that we knew we would have to bear, and already the motor had well and truly proven its worth. We were mindful of the experience of other crusing folk who had proffered to us the conclusion that a couple going cruising would do a lot of motoring. Take the wind in your sails when you get it, but (especially in our climes) there would be lots of occasions when there was little wind, it blew from the wrong direction, or you just needed to get to the next destination to beat the tide, closing weather or something of the like. We hoped for more constant, and user friendly winds in the trades to the north.

Linked to the new motor - literally - was fuel supply and range. When installing the new Yanmar we had consulted with Paul Webb our marine mechanic about increasing our on board fuel capacity to manage the really long leg between Port Fary / Portland in Victoria and Eden in NSW in the event that we would have to motor a good portion of it. We achieved this by having two supplementary stainless steel fuel tanks fabricated and installed in locker space on either side of the motor. This system gave us three fuel tanks, with the original primary one, deep in the bilge, pumping up to the others, for passage making and day use. In the process we had more than doubled storage capacity on board, and with jerry cans in the back locker we now carried about 300lt on board, more than enough for our likely needs. Our immediate concern at Refuge Cove was that the pump lifting the fuel from the primary storage to replenish the side tanks appeared not to be working, and there was not enough left in the side tanks to hope to get to Eden. Although neither of us came from a background of overalls and grease, this was a good time to get really interested in a mechanical problem. There were no marine mechanical services for miles, and without the pump working it was hard to see how we would be able to get access to the fuel in the bottom tank that we needed, to head on the long passage east.

It seemed to us that the pump was powering ok but that something was impeding its function. We suspected that the culprit might be linked to a really curious thing about diesel fuel tanks that we already had some knowledge about. On a prevous trip to Port Lincoln we had the unnerving experience of our original motor failing, and having to manage a night approach to the local marina under sail alone and with winds rising. Luckily our friends Andy Haldane and Graham Daniels (Graham and son Tom had SAILED (!) Calista from Mooloolaba on the Sunshine Coast in Qld after we has purchased her in early 2007) came down to the wharf to catch our mooring lines as we negotiated the tricky "luff up" approach to the tie-up area. The motor failure was traced to a dirty fuel tank and algae. As unlikely as it seems, moisture in diesel fuel tanks (from condensation, normally) creates a film between the fuel and the tank walls where, incredibly, algae thrive. The demise of these organisms - they must live cheerless, auditor like lives - leaves a black tarry goop in the bottom which can dislodge and foul fuel pumps and systems. On that occasion we were forced to dismantle a goodly portion of the cabin sole and the galley superstructure in searing heat, to get to the inspection lid of the fuel tank, whereapon we used disposable nappies to remove the offending goo. It was amazing to behold, and we learnt a lot from the experience. Now, at the 'Prom, we suspected that, in spite of fuel additives and other preventative measures, the black gunk had struck again. Sure enough, when we removed the tank-side fuel line to the lift pump there were tell tale signs of our algae-advesary. The fuel pump was clogged and strangled. We could remove and clean the pump, but we somehow needed to purge the fuel line that disappeared into the bowels of the boat. We are proud of what came next, considering our novice status!

Fuel pump surgery!

Sucking on diesel fuel lines is incredibly dangerous and by mouth we had no hope of blowing in the tiny fuel dipping hole in the cabin to force fuel back and out of the line. In a stroke of inspiration (derperation begets inspiration) we remembered that before leaving home we had made a last moment decision to bring along a bike pump, for the possible need to inflate the bladder on the ship's accumulator (in the water pump). By fashioning a rubber seal for the mouth of the inspection port, constructing a "joiner" to connect the pump to the seal, and by tape sealing the outside "breather" to the fuel tank we were now ready to test our invention (see the pic of this device!). With one gently pumping and the other deploying a fuel catcher at the end of the line, we soon had gunk purged from the line, and the system clear to run again. Soon our side tanks were filling and Eden was back on the agenda! Yay!

Flushed with success of the mechanical variety, the panelling at the back of the AIS wiring was dismantled and with some adroit tweaking by madame admiral all lights on the AIS unit were back on and functioning. A flick of the chartplotter in the cockpit soon identified 20 ships at sea in our vicinity, one as far away as the east as Bass Strait. Wow! We were back in action. Strike two to us!

AIS surgery!

It was now time to up anchor and move to the snug part of the cove. Having anchored in deepish water overnight, it was going to be a bit of a task for the anchor winch, but it had been working well as late as January and we foresaw no difficulties in managing the retrieve. Soon however, it seemed that the winch was struggling and the depth, combined with a couple of hitches made things worse. Hoping that we could complete the retrieve, and sort out the winch ailments later turned out to be both inadvisable, and wishful thinking. An urgent cry from the helm came as a result of smoke issuing from the winch wiring at the switch, below. The wiring had overheated and the winch could not be used to complete the anchor retrieve. That left us with a manual winch retrieve, after dismantling the inner forestay on the foredeck. Ultimately we laboured with success to retrieve the anchor, re-anchored in the southern section of the cove, checked the wiring and switch and spent the fading light disassembling and greasing the winch and most importantly cleaning and reinstalling the leads to the winch motor. This device lives in the anchor locker which is one of the most hostile of environments that one could imagine for wiring and connections. When all was reassembled it seemed to function well, and would, with a bit of luck see us to the East Coast. We had been lucky, and maybe that was it for the day.

Anchor winch surgery!

From below, however came the news that in the process of reviving the AIS, the AM/FM Radio/CD (entertainment system), that had been working well, and coincidentally shared the same recess as the AIS, was now on the blink and showed no glimmer of activity. It retained its electronically precious status despite all entreaties to the contrary. As day faded and we ignited our anchor light, we counted the cost - WIN, AIS and fuel, LOSS, entertainment and possibly the anchor winch. It had been a hard day in paradise.

A roast in the oven below and a glance around at the wonder of our surrounds lifted our spirits and we resolved that on the morrow we would dedicate some time to enjoying the unique place that is Refuge Cove. We slept well.

Monday dawned fine and it dawned on us that technically, this was our first day of leave. So, in an awful moment of effrontery we both rang in well to our worksites and described the lotus land that we were now lounging in. We selectively excluded anything to do with winches, pumps, electonics and so on, and our colleagues accepted our calls in good grace. Eschewing anything that was connected to spanners, we launched the ship's duck, and were soon wending our way along fern clad paths to Hersop Peak, which beetles over Refuge Cove. The surrounding hills were shrouded in mist, but from the top the view to Waterloo Bay, to the South and back over Refuge in the North made it worth the climb. We returned to join Mike Smith and his son-in -law Adam for some execllent coffee and Adam's hand-crafted rum balls on board Second Wind, a 44' Morgan Centre Cockpit cruiser, also bound east to Eden. Mike's internet analysis suggested that late tomorrow afternoon would be good to go.

Hersop Peak

Our Tues PM departure was timed to have us arrive on the other side of eastern Bass Strait on Thursday morning, two nights and a day away. We celebrated our last day in Refuge with a trip to the north beach and a crisp swim in the ocean of the beach abeam of Calista. In reality, in spite of the beauty of Refuge and were keen to go. Prior to departure a 36' South Coast Yacht Kool Sid dropped anchor in the cove, a craft well known to us when it was for sale on internet yacht sales sites. we knew more about Kool Sid than Tremain and Sue, the new masters would have guessed. All that was needed was a hassle free anchor haul and with Second Wind somewhere within cooee we would be on our way. Happily, with a merry rattle of the chain the anchor was secure and with a lap around Kool Sid to bid them farewell we made heading for the way to sea. it was then that we realised that there was something seriously amiss. The engine was more throaty than normal and a quick inspection showed no water coming from the exhaust. AHHHH! Continue and we cook the motor!! With a rapid turn of Calista's head back into the Cove we turned the motor off and glided back to re-anchor next to Kool Sid. To our chagrin, a few moments later Second Wind slid by, wishing us well in our mechanical malaise and sliding out of the harbour.

There was nothing to do but to work on solving the problem. What was stopping the water - essential for cooling - from reaching the motor? After a check of the intake raw water strainer, that left an impeller problem in the water pump, or something blocking the intake. As the afternoon faded and grumbly clouds gathered about there was nothing to do but go over the side and check if something was blocking the intake. It was not what one wanted to do and after a shivery examination, nothing sinister was found. That left the water pump and soon Tremain from Kool Sid and Paul Webb via phone soon joined us to lend a hand. Eventually the impediment was traced to something in the pipe between the intake and the strainer, but how to get to this near inaccessible conduit to free it?! The solution was another inventive stroke born of necessity. Blowing in the pipe proved useless, so the inflating pump for the duck was brought to bear, connected to the pipe, and with several hearty pumps and an ominous gastric-like gurgle, the item in the pipe, animal, mineral, or piscatorial, was purged into the bay. We were free, and free to go. At a later reflective moment, we considered that this method might have a medical application for bound patients, although we suspect that clinical trials are a way off yet!

As night drew in, so did the gathering storm, and it might have been tempting to snug in to the warmth of below decks for the night, and reassess in the morn. In an hour or so, however, the flashing and crashing seemed to be sliding to the north, so at 7.30pm we eased from the cosy confines of Refuge Cove into the wide expanse of eastern Bass Strait beyond. As we headed east we were reminded of what Geoff Gowing had to say about cruising - "you go from port to port fixing your boat" !!

Second Wind & Calista secure in beautiful Refuge Cove.