Pittwater - Coffs Harbor 7/5 to 11/5

Anchored tankers fill the horizon en route to Newcastle.

Leaving the tall masts and bright lights of Pittwater behind us, we were hopeful of clearing Barrenjoey and using a souwester to fill some canvas. This seemed likely for a while, but before too many nautical miles the breeze, and our hopes faded and it was back to mainsil and motor to keep us underway. By Lake Macquarie our chart plotter was lighting up with AIS triangles, showing ships ahead. Soon the horizon was dotted with them, all coal ships at anchor awaiting loading instructions at Newcastle. As we drew near them our count listed 25 ships at anchor, from horizon to horizon. What the crew do whilst at anchor waiting for their ship to come in was something that occupied our thoughts as we closed on our destination. Not much of a life compared with ours on our "ship" we thought. We now knew that Newcastle by nightfall was improbable, but hoped to be in at the new marina's facilities there before the Newcastle Yacht Club hospitality staff closed their doors. At sea the mind can drift toward wedges and something with foam on top. Cappuccino? It is always difficult approaching port at night, and especially so where city lights meld with the navigation lights that must be correctly read to ensure safe passage into harbour. As we closed Newcastle's Nobbys Island which guards the entrance to the ship channel, there was something else to consider. Earlier, our courtesy call to Newcastle Marine Rescue had alerted us that a large tanker was soon due to leave port, but that for the moment the "coast" was clear. Now, as we rounded Nobbys and entered the channel, our AIS lit up with multiple targets, dead ahead. Sure enough, the tanker with a clutch of fussing tugs - two at the bow, and one astern - had chosen this exact moment to join us in the channel, putting out to sea. At this point the channel which had appeared commodious to a 36' yacht, seemed to shrink to the dimension of a roadside culvert. At this, madam helmsperson, noting the looming monster ahead, retorted "what do we do now!!?". Co-crew and forward observor, peering forward, thought for a moment before offering the following appraisal and advice......"miss the tanker". What else could one say? In the end we snugged the port side of the channel, inhaled deeply, and held our breaths as the steel walls of the behemoth, plus its attendants, slid by. By the time we had tied up and established our bona fides at the NYC this in-channel experience had both whetted our appetites and deepened our thirst. The NYC we found, agreeably reflected the bue collar roots of the city, and it was comfortable to settle back and enjoy the relaxed atmosphere that shone through at the club. The NYC is doing well we hear. Later, as an unexpected bonus, we found that the visiting yachtie facilities included five en-suite bathrooms for discerning clients. Privacy! Almost unheard of at sea and we were not quite sure to do with it. Before retiring to our forepeak berth we had a chance to take in, if that is possible, the opulence and majesty of a superyacht that was tied up opposite, but somewhat ingloriously adjacent the massive structure of Newcastle's floating ship-dock. This statement vessel, the superyacht, seemed to be the epitomy of opulence with masts that went up forever, so high that aero-navigation lights were required at the masthead. Again we felt that we had shrunk to the dimension of the dinghy that conveyed Ratty and Moley in the much loved fable. However, for us seafarers we had been messing about in our boat since sun-up and now felt like some slumber.

Leaving Newcastle with the incoming tanker astern.

Murphy, it seems is a regular crew member on board, and sure enough, as we got under way next morn on the long haul to Coffs (186nm /about 34hrs), our entry into the ship channel was greeted by another tanker, this time incoming, and again with tugs like goslings around Mother Goose. This time though, in daylight we found the passing easy, and wondered why last eve our heartbeats had lifted. Managing things at night, at sea, is a different creature. Again we found flukey airs, and again we motor sailed. Our route north snugged the coast, and we had a seabird's view of the beaches, headlands, and wilderness areas as we settled back and simply took it all in. A feature of the NSW coast is the amount of space given to nature, and apart from towns and river entrances there appeared to be mile after mile of wild places where few footprints are to be found. It was heartening, and beautiful to see. We had been concerned about meeting contrary sea-currents as we headed north - remember "its the ECC [the East Coast Current]" from Finding Nemo but so far we were doing 6-7kn and a good time into Coffs was looking promising. In early afternoon, as we drew abeam of Seal Rocks, all that changed. We noted is at first as swirling disturbed water ahead, with fish leaping and seabirds diving. Then it hit us, gripped our little ship in a shudder and our speed plunged back to 4kn although our instruments suggested that we were doing nearly seven. Welcome to the ECC!

For the rest of our trip north we battled the ECC, and we were again grateful that our Yanmar 40 was there to lend its shoulder into the contrary stream. Through the night and into the next day our current affair lingered and it was not until we approached the imposing ramparts of Smoky Cape with its striking lighthouse that it finally loosened its grip. On board Calista our thoughts returned with great fondness to our visit to this cape as part of our "coastal lap" that we had done years ago in Cookie's Escort panel van. Like Wicked backpackers before our time planning for that trip was easy - we headed from across land via such destinations as Wilcannia and Cobar to Australia's most easterly point, Byron Bay. From there, with wave-skis on top and a tent in the back we planned on seeing as many beaches as we could, keeping the land on the right and the sea on our left, back to SA. What a trip! Now we were doing a "coastal lap" in reverse, keeping the land on our port and heading north. Abeam of Smoky Cape - one of our favourites on our land lap - we thought fondly of this stunning location. We never dreamed that we would see it from the sea.

Entering Coffs on sunset.

As the ECC released us a little from its insidious grip, our speed returned and as afternoon shadows lengthened we gratefully entered the harbour at Coffs, and made our way to our berth where we were pleased to see good friend Cran there to catch our lines and hand us our marina key. He informed us that that Ann had been at work on a smoked fish pasta, there were cold offerings in the fridge, and that if it pleased, we could make our way to Lettin' Go once we had settled. Ann and Cran, you legends. We could not think of a finer way to celebrate our arrival at Coffs Harbour. Our journey to Coffs had taken 32 1/4hrs. Next day we would start looking for palm trees.

Safely through the entrance at Coffs Harbour.

Pic - Courtesy Cran McLean Lettin'Go