Airlie Beach - Townsville 22/7 -16/7/2010

The Anchorage at Woodwark Bay.

With the wind firm from the South East, and with the sun beginning to fade, our course for Woodwark Bay, just a handful of miles up the coast from Airlie Beach, left little scope for reflecting on our Whitsunday experience. It made sense, however, for us to head north to new scenery, rather than linger in the Whitsundays until conditions improved. From the sound of the forecasts, winds were not set to abate for some days to come. If we could get to Cape Gloucester and find shelter, there were a host of onshore activities to keep us entertained. The first step, however, was to gain overnight shelter in Woodwark Bay, before pushing on to Gloucester the next day.

As one heads north from Airlie, one of the first things of note is that the legion of charter boats, both bareboat, and backpacker, are left behind. We are back in the land of cruising boats, and those joining us on the path to the north are travelling sailors like ourselves. As we rounded Grimston Point and entered the deep finger of Woodwark Bay, the sea state settled, the impact of the wind lessened, and as we settled on anchor off a sandy beach ashore, it was a different world. Soon the renovated shelters were proving their worth over nibbles, and a coconut curry stir fry was tempting the olfactory from below. It felt good to be making passage again.

Woodwark Bay behind us as we head north to Gloucester Island.

The anchorages to the north of Airlie are poor relations in terms of their recognition, and yet, in Woodwark Bay, after a smooth night where the winds slid harmlessly overhead, we awoke well rested and left the bay for Gloucester at the gentlemanly hour of 0930. Our only regret was that our keenness to seek succour that evening in the locale of Cape Gloucester meant that lingering in a selection of attractive day-stops along the way was probably out of the question. We needed to reach Gloucester on the tide and with the wind forecast to pipe in later we wanted Calista well settled before nightfall. We would have to be content with examining the local environs from sea. Soon, with our eternal friend the Sou-Easter building beyond 20 knots, we cruised northward to George Point at a comfortable 6 knots under headsail alone. Beyond Grassy Island, and drawing abeam of Saddleback Island, our cruising notes suggested that the latter of these isles “has been reported to have a considerable number of Death Adders on it”. This might be a calculated ruse to protect a premium fishing spot, but this serpentine theory had to be left for another time as the wind built to 30knots, and a gust abeam of Saddleback lifted spindrifts from the sea at a ferocious 44knots. There was no time to delay in making for Gloucester Passage.

Big breezes off Saddleback.

Gloucester Island is a towering chunk of land, lying just over 20nm from Airlie, with its craggy Mt Bertha standing over 570m above the sea. Measuring about 8km by 2km, its raised battlements lean into the Sou-Easters, and where a mid-island saddle breaks its imposing spine, the wind compresses and plunges into a cove below which carries the well-earned title of Squally Bay. Like most other islands in the region, Gloucester is a National Park, and although a hike to the top of Mt Bertha would produce a prodigious view, a binocular scan of its untouched uplands suggests that visitors would be well advised to stick to beach walks along the coast. The island remains a tropical wilderness, much visited but rarely traversed by humans.

Making our way through Gloucester passage.

Gloucester Passage is a narrow pass separating Gloucester Island from Cape Gloucester, and although it carries clear navigation beacons, there is reefy ground and shoals just outside the channel, and for newcomers, a daytime passage at high tide is the safest way to go. On the Cape Gloucester side through the passage lie Monte’s Resort, an old favourite amongst yachties, and the newer Cape Gloucester Eco Resort which has installed moorings, which for a fee ($25/night) gives access to Resort facilities including the 25m pool and showers. Our navigation through Gloucester Passage proved to be comfortable, and with a mooring holding our vessel, we had soon launched the tender and were headed ashore. With fewer boats and in more intimate surrounds, it is easier to meet other voyaging travellers, and this unplanned nautical networking adds enormously to the experience, as does cardamom to Goan coffee. On our way ashore we called past a handsome timber yawl and met Roger and Jill who had trailered the Margaret D from their home at Merimbula in Southern NSW, and with our background of having trailered Crystal Voyager to this same region and to this anchorage in 2002, there was a common experience on which we could draw. Roger had been past Commodore of the Twofold Bay Sailing Club in Eden, a port that we will almost certainly re-visit on our way back to SA, later in the year. Ashore, we walked to the renovated and well presented Monte’s Resort, before returning to the Eco-Resort where a shower and a game of pool was a valued pre-cursor to a “treats night” at the Resort Bistro. Roger and Jill had lauded the quality of the fare, and with herself selecting Coral Trout with mango, avocado salsa and seared scallops, and my selection of steak with Asian sauces and condiments, we settled into a most singular evening. After a post dinner chat over coffee with Roger and Jill, we repaired to our duck and returned through the darkness to Calista. Unfortunately, the wind had backed to the south, and we now lay exposed to a nuisance slop that made for uncomfortable sleeping on board. Herself abandoned our forward facilities in favour of greater stability in steerage, amidships.

A great meal at the Eco Resort Restuarant.

Although conditions settled a little overnight, by morning the slop was back and we needed Velcro on our toast at breakfast. It was not long before we abandoned our unstable vessel in favour of firmer terra ashore, although our first move was to churn out some laps in the resort pool, before heading toward Edgecombe Bay on a coast walk to check out the local scenery. About mid-day our attention was drawn to a small ceremony taking place by the sea. It was a young Brazilian couple who were getting married by the sea. They had planned a ceremony on the beach at Whitehaven, but their seaplane had been driven back by the strong Sou-Easters – we know the feeling! Later that afternoon Bella and Derek on Pandana anchored off Monte’s, having come up from Little Jonah Bay, inshore of Saddleback Island. Their anchorage seemed smoother than in front of the Eco Resort, but with the winds persisting, we felt that Bona Bay on Gloucester Island might provide better shelter. In the meantime, another fine evening at the Bistro was enjoyed by a growing coterie, as we re-connected with Roger and Jill and met Jim and Maz whose impressive motor cruiser was moored near ourselves as they too, sought refuge from the pest from the SE.

Enjoying a few laps at the resort pool. (water temp 28 deg.!

Next morning before slipping out of the anchorage for Bona Bay, Jim had us over for a coffee and to take a look at the electronics on the boat that he had recently bought. The nerve centre below had more screens than Harvey Norman, and when we asked how any mortal could figure it all out, he showed us the instruction manual, a thicker document than the Sydney phone book. We were astonished, but then Jim suggested we take a look up on the fly-bridge where lo and behold there was a complete duplicate set of gizmos, a sort of his and hers of the sea. Jim is like an astronaut in a lunar module who just wants to find the toaster! He is thinking of selling for something simpler. Boating like this is too hard.

Back on our simpler ship, we skipped across Gloucester Passage and dropped anchor close to shore on Bona Bay, with Gloucester Island towering above to blunt our ever-lingering Sou-Easter. Ashore, on this lonely and beautiful coastline we were looking forward to exploring the beach although we were circumspect about wandering too far into the bush. Again the cruising guide 100 Magic Miles sapped our resolve, with its cheery message that “there are Death Adders about; if you are moving about at night always carry a torch”. An evening barbie ashore seemed to lose some of its appeal.

The Bona Bay anchorage, with "Wolfmans" tent at the far end of the bay.

Strolling along the remoteness of Bona Bay with focus more on shells at our feet, it was not a serpent that halted us, but rather a sudden voice from the bush. There strung between two trees in a hammock was a German backpacker! Wolfram, an Environmental Lawyer, from Germany, had been dropped over in Bona Bay by Monte’s staff several days earlier, in search of some wilderness time away from the rat-race. Here in Bona Bay, Wolfram was certainly away from the rat-race. There was not a rat in sight, although this creative recluse had perfected solo-volleyball by firing spikes up the slope of the beachside dunes which then returned play to his feet. He had four more days of personal discovery at Bona bay, and beyond that he hoped that a retrieval team from Monte’s would collect him from his green side of the world.
Next day we were joined in Bona by Derek and Bella, and given Bella’s Austrian background and nature, she was soon in animated connection with Wolfram when she met him on an exploration that we undertook to the end of Bona Bay in search of a path beyond the beach through the forest. Heading up a boulder strewn creek bed we headed up the flanks of Gloucester until terrain and time saw us return to the beach. Happily we saw no Death Adders, although Derek discovered a handsome Brown Snake skin, lying as a potent reminder, amongst the cobbles in the creek bed. Crocs and shorts were probably inadequate apparel for our excursion.

Exploring the gully with Bella & Derek.

We ought to record that through Derek and Bella, Wolfram’s last days in these climes became a social whirl after his days in the wilderness. They introduced him to the Bowen yachties who had gathered nearby for the hotly contested ‘Round Gloucester race and the equally earnest celebrations at Monte’s that followed. Re-dubbed “Wolf Man” by the visitors, he was feted, housed, and warmly included in the festivities. We hear that Wolfram was both grateful, but reluctant to leave when his new friends dropped him off at the Proserpine Airport. He has probably found it all a bit hard to explain, back in the wilds of Cologne.

In the meantime, we had taken the opportunity to make for the port of Bowen, via Squally Bay and a lively sail by Middle Island and Stone Island, which protects the entrance to the harbour. With a lowering sky, scudding clouds and a wind that whistled through at 25-30 knots, we covered the 14nm in good time and were soon making ourselves secure in this very different northern town. The harbour at Bowen is limited and many vessels take up for and aft pile berths as the standard accommodation. We were fortunate to secure a berth at the small Bowen Marina, and soon set off to check out the town. Not long after we entered the harbour, we were followed in by the superb septuagenarian of the seas, Nyora with Alex, Suzy, and their two boys Aiden and Jack, who had sailed up from Eden bound for Lizard Island, north of Cairns, and coincidentally shared the same yacht club with Roger and Jill, who by now had headed south. We had briefly met the Nyora crew at Gloucester, and getting to know this wonderful family from Jindabyne was a genuine highlight of our passage to Townsville.

Calista & Nyora at the Bowen Marina

Bowen is as laid back as Airlie is frenetic and where Airlie is pressed for space, Bowen has boulevards as broad as those that Colonel Light bestowed on Adelaide. Bowen has been a poorer cousin in some ways when compared with the Whitsunday bright lights and hoopla, although in recent years it achieved notoriety as the base for the Nicole Kidman, and Hugh Jackman epic, Australia, due to its nautical setting and unique sprinkling of genuine heritage civic buildings and “Queenslander” watering holes. There is no doubt that Bowen embraced the Austraila enterprise, for if one strolls into the local Joachim Bakery, there are signed testimonials from our greats of the silver screen, lauding both the people of Bowen and the delectations to be had from this local oven. On the menu are a Hugh Jackman pie, and a beef and mango chutney pie that had your bloggist in raptures. After all, just out of Bowen is the Big Mango, an attraction with info centre and café attached which offers the highway one travellers a pit stop and digital opportunity on their way south to Airlie, or north to Townsville.

The wide streets of Bowen.

In Bowen, with the wind still whistling down its voluminous streets, we settled on a stroll around town, a little reprovisioning, and a welcome set of laps at the local pool. We had intended to walk to Bowen’s award winning Horseshoe Bay, but ran out of time when an ongoing noise in the steering system that we felt would be quick to fix morphed into an obdurate pest that saw us dismantling half of the boat – or so it seemed to us – before a contortionist’s application of grease to the upper reaches of the rudder post finally silenced the irritant. Yes, you go from port to port fixing your boat. Later at the marina we joined Alex and Suzy from Nyora and the boys at the North Queensland Yacht Club for an exceeding pleasant repast. The NQYC is a cruisy cruising club, which rates highly amongst the yacht clubs that we have visited since leaving SA. Later, with internal contentment leading to easy slumber, we almost missed the early morning event. It was the wind! After over a week of constant harassment, the Sou-Easter had suddenly collapsed, from a torment to a zephyr. Its iron grip was released, and with the morn came the urge to move, to make our way north via Capes Upstart, Bowling Green and Cleveland, on the 110 or so nautical mile passage to Townsville. This was the last leg;at last.

The majestic Cape Upstart.

Making for sea through the North Channel via Stone Island we found a friendly 10-15 knot remnant breeze that saw us poling out a headsail as we viewed Bowen’s growth zone to the north. This pleasant breeze, however, proved to be ephemeral, and before long, after re-furling a flaccid headsail, we were back to making miles under motor, main and autopilot. In the flukey airs we set and then furled sail as the breeze varied. Soon a ship on the horizon actually turned out to be the very long Abbott Point coal loading jetty, with loading infrastructure at it seaward end. After passing this important regional facility, the buttress of an imposing Cape Upstart was rising prominently ahead. By mid afternoon we drew abeam of the cape, and after rounding a plum-pudding of a rock called The Bun, we dropped anchor in the lee of the majestic cape, with sandy beaches, beachside shacks, and the imposing Upstart National Park lifting above to the clouds.

Miles of coves,shacks and clear water.

As night fell on Cape Upstart, we were both taken by the unique charm of the place, and resolved to delay our progress up the coast by a day to go ashore and explore. It turned out being a decision that was richly rewarding from every aspect. By the cape itself we drew ashore in a small enclave of coastal shacks where a mini community lived an idyllic lifestyle in a cove with no roads, and the nearest access to a road being at Mongole Creek 11kms away by sea. Cheryl, one of the owner’s wives met us with her not so fearsome guard terrier, Gus, and gave us a guided tour of the point. Apparently there are some 200 shack owners on the northern flank of Cape Upstart, and with electric power now supplied, life here by the sea had an irresistible allure for all who called the Cape home. We spent the next few hours beach-hopping by duck, exploring nooks and coves and finding some absolute treasures in the process. At every turn the coastal scenery was superb and the variety of dwellings kept our camera clicking. The constant was the wilderness of the National Park heading skywards, and the subtle connection to the sea that is invaluable for all who live here. Clearly, like shacks elsewhere, on a Friday, there were few souls at home. After a dip in front of our “favourite shack”, we repaired to Calista to enjoy the late afternoon, and the sunset over this beautiful place.

The lovely beach shack on a private cove, Cape Upstart.

Next morning, with the breeze at a kinder angle, we obtained a far greater sail assist on our way to Cape Bowling Green, a low-slung sandy spit at the opposite end of geographic qualities when compared with Cape Upstart. We had heard contrasting opinions of Cape Bowling Green, but we resolved to overnight there, both to break up the leg to Townsville, and via experience, to form an opinion for ourselves. The cape is scythe like in shape with low vegetation holding the dunes against attack from the elements. After rounding the tip and securing our anchor we hurried ashore for a swim and a brief explore. The cape can be reached by a long drive along the beach, and apart from a couple of distant palms, some heroic, salt tolerant shrubs, a lighthouse and evidence of a bird rookery, it does not have a lot to attract the visitor. The ocean in the area is tidal and muddy, and our swim was brief, with the benefit being personal laundering, rather than anything else. It is an unremarkable place. Cape Bowling Green reminded us of the Murray Mouth area in SA, minus the appeal. The anchorage lay considerably exposed with the fetch likely to cause a menace if the wind was up. We were happy that the winds were gentle and that in the morning we would be on our way to Townsville. Not far now!

The not so majestic Cape Bowling Green.

The thirty odd nautical miles to Cape Cleveland, before Townsville could be observed, saw the sea regain its azure allure, and the outline of Magnetic Island take form to the north. We could scarcely believe it! We recalled purchasing a map of Australia during our exploration of Eden in southern NSW. We had just crossed Bass Strait, and thought that we had come a long way. Then we looked at the scope of the East Coast of Australia, and we were staggered by how far we had to go to get to Townsville. Now, just beyond the next cape, there it was!!

Enjoying the warm, sunny day near Cape Cleveland.

A quick check of the chart, however told us that now was no time to lower our glasses, as lurking off Cape Cleveland, which guards the Port of Townsville, lay Salamander Reef, and Four-Foot Rock, two undersea nasties, there to challenge us with the tape in sight. Beyond Cleveland, with the leads to the Port in evidence we resolved to take the opportunity to delay our final approach to Townsville, by anchoring in Horseshoe Bay, Magnetic Island, to get the chance to take a look at one of Queensland’s most visited islands. We have come over 2500 nautical miles from Horseshoe Bay, Port Elliot (SA), to a bay with the same name, but with little more than shape, and granite, in common. For the next two nights and a day, we bussed to Maggie’s collection of interesting settlements, bushwalked to some highly attractive coves, and went ashore to enjoy a bistro evening as the lights from vessels anchored in the bay swayed like fireflies.

Colin at Horseshoe Bay, Magnetic Island

Then, on Tuesday 3rd August, four months minus two days since leaving Wirrina Marina in SA, we rounded the NE cape of Magnetic Island and picked up the entrance leads for the Breakwater Marina, Townsville. With our arrival cleared with Coast Guard Townsville, we rounded the breakwater of the marina at 1335hrs, after 2568nm at sea, and visiting 48 separate ports and anchorages. We were thrilled at what we had achieved, and were keen to tie up, and head out to celebrate. Already, though, our thoughts were turning to all that we needed to do to prepare for the big trip, beyond the Great Barrier Reef, and across the Coral Sea to the Louisiade Archipelago off the SE tip of PNG. In the meantime, however, we wanted to enjoy discovering Townsville, Australia’s largest tropical city, and to reflect on some wonderful times in four months at sea. Townsville ! WOW!!

The Breakwater Marina entrance in sight.

We're here!

It did not take us long to settle into life at the Breakwater Marina, and most of the city attractions were just a walk away. Getting ready to leave Australian waters left us with many things to do ranging from having the motor serviced and inspected, provisioning Calista for two months out of the reach of shops and supermarkets, to starting the formal processes with Customs and the like. In between we wanted to sup on the attractions of this fascinating northern city. There were lots of highlights for us both including:

Ø Enjoying the wonderful environment of the Strand, a ribbon seaside park with gardens, fountains, water parks, cafes and walking paths, starting just at the marina. The Strand is a marvellous place for all, by both night and

day. To see the number of people out on the Strand exercising was heartening to see.

We enjoyed the Waterpark with the kids!

Ø Re-connecting with long time friend Greg deNys and his new wife Suzannah, after several years in time and half a continent in distance. Greg, Suzannah, and her teens, Adrian, and Steph. They kindly took us for a tour of Townsville, including up to the towering Mt Stuart which overlooks the city where remarkably, we could just pick out the hook of Cape Bowling Green to the South, and the more prominent form of Hinchinbrook Island to the north.
Ø A “cultural evening” at the local NRL grudge match, Townsville Cowboys vs the Brisbane Broncos. This Qld “derby” had dominated the airways and we thought it would be interesting to go along to check out the “Eastern Code” in the flesh. The contest did not last long, with the Broncos scoring early and often, taking some of the sting out of the crowd, although the Cowboys fought back later to leave some respectability on the scoreboard. A local tradition at these games is for families to bring rugs and to find a spot in steerage out on the mound. This was great to see. We have had our rugby experience, and that will do us for now!

A Cultural evening of rugby!

Ø Lots of swims at the Tobruk Pool, at the start of the Strand, literally a two- minute walk from our ship. This iconic venue saw a host of world records set when distances were set in yards. Lorraine Crapp kicked things off in 1950 with the 880 yard World Mark (11min 02sec), and the names of Konrads, Fraser, Rose and Devitt, etc are etched on the Honour Board at the pool along with some excellent 50’s and 60’s pics dating from wnen Australia ruled the waves. Some 18 world times were set in the pool by the Australians, either individually, or in relays. The “old girl” has recently been refurbished and, happily, will last a while yet. We have swum in lanes where World Records have been set, but alas, that is about where the comparison ends.

Ø Enjoying many strolls around “old central Townsville” where many 19th Century public buildings and traditional pubs have been tastefully restored. There is a positive comparison that might be drawn with some heritage enclaves in Adelaide.

A fine example of Townsville's Architecture.

Ø A morning at Reef HQ, the magnificent tropical aquarium and learning centre, run in conjunction with the Great Barrier Reef Marine Park authority. This is an absolute must for anyone visiting this region, and the quality of the exhibits is stunning. We have come over 2500 miles across the oceans to see Nemo, Dory, and their friends, and here they were, just in front of our face, with no challenging seas, and a Mango Smoothie just meters away.

A close encounter with a Leopard Shark.

Ø A remarkable natural event when a male Peregrine Falcon brought down a pigeon in flight, on the lawn, just beyond Calista’s walkway. This beautiful raptor allowed a close approach to be photographed whilst plucking and devouring its kill. It was hard to comprehend that this was a “wild” bird.

The Peregrine Falcon

Ø Some great social times with the crews of Nyora, Mojo, and Pandana, culminating in a hike to the top of Castle Hill with Bella and Derek to gaze out on Magnetic Island and beyond. It was exciting but more than a bit scary to boot. Out there, there will be no port to seek refuge, and we will have to trust that Calista and her crew are up to the task.

Another trip up the mast! Nice view.

With Calista low in the water with fuel, water and supplies, it is nearly time to go. Cookie has done a wonderful job in masterminding our provisioning from markets, stalls and the big retailers. Our hand trolleys have lugged more provisions and ordinance than the Allies had at the Normandy landing. The officials from Customs have been to clear us and it is nearly time release our lines for the Louisiades. Derek and Bella on Pandana are joining us.

Getting our passport stamps with the Customs boys.

Last night at an Irish pub for our last land-food for awhile, we recalled with fondness the times we had with Bill and Pauline on Tibia where the idea for this journey originally took form. It is a good time to recall Bill’s favourite quote –

Twenty years from now
You will be more disappointed
By the things that you didn’t do
Than by the ones you did.
So throw off the bowlines.
Sail away from the safe harbour.
Catch the Trade Winds in your sails.
EXPLORE

DREAM

DISCOVER

Mark Twain.

Time to explore new horizons across the Coral Sea.

[NOTE TO READERS - From Townsville and beyond in the Louisiades, we will be beyond phone and Internet service and will send location info to the Blog (via satphone) in brief updates only. Pics of this incredible destination via Blog will have to wait until we return to Australia. We are planning to return, probably via Townsville, in the last week of October. We send our best wishes to all and thank you for being supporters of our journey. C,C&C ]