Robe to Port Fairy

Thursday 8/4 - Friday 9/4

There were lots of things to think about as we departed Robe. The first was to clear the harbour and to get safely out to sea. This was negotiated after giving way to a returning cray boat in the channel and avoiding a trawler manoevuring in the basin to go up on the travel lift. We set a course of 210 degrees to gain distance to seaward and to get us along our track to Port MacDonnell. Typically, as one nears winter in these latitudes there are blows and calms and not much between. The puff of the weak front had given way to soft airs wafting over a lumpy but declining sea. Again we were looking at converting diesel to distance. We found that our new Yanmar 40hp motor gave us a comfortable 6 to 6.2 knots at a smooth and fuel friendly 2050 rpms. Apart from a need to brace when moving about the ship and to keep a sharp eye out for pots it was comfortable going. We set up the autopilot and headed out to sea. Our neighbour on Onawa at Wirrina, Barry Leverington had shared an experience off Robe that we did not want to repeat. When delivering Onawa from NSW they ran foul of a cray pot rope off the SE coast and had to limp in to Robe for damage assessment & repairs. When a pot rope wraps around the prop shaft with the engine engaged the motor gets strangled and sometimes something mechanical -propshaft/gearbox etc - has to give. The news in Robe was that lots of cray boats were still struggling to reach their annual catch quota, so they were setting pots deeper and further out to sea - out toward the continental shelf. So we headed out.

As land reduced to a horizon sliver we were in over 200ft of water and apart from the dodging buoys of deep set shark nets we hoped that the waters ahead would be clear. Later, however, in the soft light of the fading day there was a tap and knock on the hull, and, as we glanced astern, there they were, a string of cray buoys! They had slid underneath us with no harm. They had to have come from a lost pot or were ropes that had broken free, for we were in 310ft of water. As night fell and before setting up our overnight watch system we were treated to a fairy light display from the navigation lights atop the forest of wind generators that dot the far SE coast. It was just like Christmas in April.

Through the night the loom of the distant lights of Mount Gambier faded and we could detect the distant hint of Portland in the sky to the East. We were now in the commercial shipping channels and soon had company that was large, unforgiving, and difficult to see at night. A notion that a large ship at night would be brightly illuminated is entirely incorrect, unless it is a P&O liner and life aboard is in full swing. An advancing tanker or container ship is minimally lit with a forward steaming light, port & starboard light and not much else. They come over the horizon at a rapid rate, and although we carry all of our night nav lights, the chance of them seeing us or even caring about us being there is remote. It is up to us to see them and to keep well out of their way. One of our best tools of security is AIS which identifies these marine monsters on our GPS screen and we can steer to avoid them. It is harder when there is more than one of them and you are not entirely sure of the course that they are planning to keep. Off Discovery Bay in the early hours, ships headed both east and west kept us from slumber on watch.

Dawn broke for us over Bridgewater Bay near Portland, and with rain forecast and pending we decided to push on and cover the additional 30 or so nautical miles and make for Port Fairy via Julia Percy Island. By the time we were abeam of the island, rain had set in, it was cold and clammy and we were just keen to get in and tie up. There was a further incentive - foul weather was forecast to hit the SW coast by Sunday with gales and storm condititions due to sweep the region. The entrance to Port Fairy is a little tricky - cut the corner on approach and you run the risk of fetching up on the reef abeam the lighthouse as a local yacht had the previous week. So with a triple check of the chart we rounded the entrance buoy and slid into the secure confines of the Moyne River after 30 hours and 182 sea miles. We had reached Port Fairy, a place that we held dear in our nautical hearts, and with the help of Max the welcoming Harbour Master we tied up at 1,30pm SA time. With the glass falling under leaden skies, it felt great to be in. We will post some more re this nautical heaven before again putting to sea. Departure from PF will be a few days from now.