Gold Coast - Newcastle 26/11 - 1/11

The Gold Coast Seaway Tower on the right as we enter the Seaway and head out to sea.

It would be hard to catalogue and give some ranking to the number of natural attractions that we have enjoyed on our journey to the tropical latitudes. The sunsets alone would have been sufficient reward for us both. As for the man-made delights, there are three that rate above others, although the welcome gleam of harbour lights after hours at sea on passage gives us immediate pleasure and satisfaction, every time. Our “gold medallist” is probably easy to guess. To sail past the Sydney Opera House, and pass under the Sydney Harbour Bridge on a beautiful day on our own yacht that we have sailed all those miles from home gave us a special thrill that we will never forget. The other two we were about to experience as we cleared the Gold Coast Seaway and set course for Coffs Harbour, an overnight haul of almost 160nm to the south.


The Gold Coast highrise in the distance as we head south.

We are not Gold Coast lovers, and there is much about its overcooked commercialism that leaves us cold. However, to see the picket fence of high rises dancing and flaring like disco-spears in the morning sun, as the light catches the multiple facets of windows on the towers, is really something to see. You need to be out at sea to see it at its best, because on a calm morning you get the double delight of the moving reflections on the swell. Apart from keeping an eye out for recreational and commercial fishers, this kept our rapt attention until our path to Point Danger with its gnarled reefs abeam, saw the high rises become low rises until finally they dropped below the horizon.

On approach to Cape Byron.

There is something indefinable about the grand position, the ambience, and the geographic status of Cape Byron and its huggable lighthouse that has us under its spell. Years ago, on our coastal car journey in Cookie’s Ford Escort, a Wicked van before its time, we squealed in delight – maybe she did – as Cape Byron hove into view, with us descending the Great Divide from Tenterfield. We remember making a bee line straight for the Lighthouse and just standing there for a time, looking out to sea. After the cheerless plains abeam of Wilcannia and Cobar, who could blame us! Now, in the late afternoon, with the shape of Cape Byron rising off our bow, we called Serena, who gathered her family entourage, and a bottle of chilled champagne; bundled them in the Surf School van (contact http://www.gosurfingbyronbay.com.au/ if heading that way), and made a bee-line for the Lighthouse. We tried to come in under the Cape as close as we could although swells and sweeping currents made the seas confused and tricky. It was one of those moments of sheer delight. We could see that Serena and co. had the Lighthouse to themselves, and we were also alone on the sea off Cape Byron. Serena phoned us to say that her little daughter was a bit worried. She thought that somehow they were all going out to the boat, and even her junior eyes had worked out that the seas were far too dangerous for that. Now that’s reading surf at a young age. It must come with the genes!


Goodbye Serena & family...goodbye Byron Bay!

It was hard to leave Cape Byron, but with night falling and a waypoint off Ballina needing attention, it was time to get into our routines of making passage at sea, at night. On leaving the Gold Coast, we created a “tracking sheet” with Marine Rescue, which was passed on to other coastal stations as we proceeded south. This sheet has all of our boat and contact details, and most importantly our ETA’s at various points in transit. Now out from Ballina, it was time to report in to Marine Rescue Ballina, with our current position, speed, and updated ETA for Coffs Harbour the next morning. If we failed to show at Coffs at the appointed time, Marine Rescue Coffs Harbour would try and contact us on Channel 16 VHF. If they could not “find” us, they would alert authorities, knowing, first and foremost, where we last reported in and where we were headed. Marine Rescue is serious about its service, and more than once when delayed in passage by adverse conditions, a missed “check in time” has resulted in a shore station calling us just to see “how we were going”. We have been deeply appreciative of this service, which provides seamless support for our voyage, all the way to Eden. Why some boat owners do not “log in” with this service is beyond us. As night falls, and the wind gets up, it is reassuring that someone else is keeping a watch out for our little ship far out at sea.

"Tim" the auto pilot at the helm on sunset.

Early next morning, south of Yamba, after a night of shared shifts and dodging ships, we adjusted course off North Solitary Island, and with the headsail grumbling about the tightness of the new angle to steer, the curved form of South Solitary Island appeared off the starboard bow. Its winking welcome to Coffs waters had us peering at the treeless isle, wondering what life must have been out there in earlier times for Lighthouse keepers and their families. A rare and stoic breed they must have been. Automated lights have obvious benefits, but the magic has somehow gone.
The Coffs Harbour Marina had a “house full” sign flying but we had been fortunate, as Cookie suspected that places might be at a premium there, and she had called beforehand to secure a berth. Others, lacking her shrewdness, had to be content with anchoring in the outer harbour where some of them rolled abominably in the beam sea. After a long passage and only a scattering of sleep, a dancing anchorage is the last thing that the crew needs. Besides, at the Marina, easy access to facilities and attractions in town made the $35/night a steal. Try getting harbour view accommodation in Coffs for anything like this cost!

The crowded Coffs Harbour Marina.

The popularity of Coffs with the White Shoe brigade; surf crew, fisher folk, backpackers, geriatric gypsies, families and anyone who appreciates sublime scenery and climate is totally understandable. Next to us in the marina was a 30’s ish guy in a centre-cockpit Duncanson 37’ yacht, who originally had sailed up from Sydney looking for some new horizons in his life. He reached Coffs and was having a lot of trouble leaving. Working locally, enjoying the surf and climate, and with a social life to admire, he was not missing the mayhem of the Harbour City. His rubber duck was tethered to the dock and as evening fell on our last night there, we found him jumping into the inflatable, bottle of vintage under his arm, and calling out “I’ve been invited out to dinner on row B – see you in the morning” (!)

Other Yachts anchored out in the rolly Outer Harbour.

With the Nor-Easter still holding, we decided on a two-day stopover; checking out the marina precinct, walking to nearby beaches, enjoying some first rate ambiance at the Yacht Club and some fine fare at a walk-to Indian Restaurant, one of three just nearby. A Surf Carnival at the Main Beach had us enjoying some Surf Boat and Surf Craft action from the dunes and we whetted our appetites for the aforementioned dining by a vigorous late afternoon plunge in the surf. With the water temperature still holding at 23 degrees, our time at Coffs had lots lifestyle boxes ticked, and yes, it was difficult to leave.

North Beach, the site of the Surf Carnival...note all the tents on the beach.

We have noted, with some amusement and some fascination, characteristics of Queenslanders, and New South Welsh persons that have attracted our attention on Calista. Take FM radio for instance. Our listening tastes include contemporary rock, anything short of Lady Gaga and “talking music”, and down the coast apart from an obligatory assessment of the world via the ABC news at 0745 (herself thinks that I’d find the ABC News on Mars), our mornings normally stray to local FM. We enjoy the music – between Harvey Norman Ads – but not the obligatory female presenters, whose miniscule minds seem restricted unerringly to gossip, and the horizontal lifestyles of Hollywood stars. Their strident cackling is the same from one locality to another, although in QLD their sentences end with “but”, and in NSW they start with “like”, the universal descriptor. The other thing that we have noted on the East Coast is the extent to which seemingly ordinary folk are now daubing themselves with Tattoos.

Getting my "Tat"

Eagles, skulls, dragons, snakes and knives are in profusion on human billboards, beyond butterflies, cursive slogans, and statements of undying love. Tattoo shops, once the province of the dark side, have edged into mainstream. On our last day at Coffs we happened on the local Market By the Sea, and amongst the fresh produce, crafty oddments, and seductive food stalls we found a purveyor of pigmentation where we could join the emblazoned generation. I wanted an anchor on a bicep but was overruled by herself in favour of a modest ship under sail on the forearm. She opted for double dolphins of her calf and, until they slough off, we have joined the trendies.

My Dolphin Tattoo! It vanished after 5 days!

The other great bonus of marina life has been the proximity of fish cooperatives to our tethered craft. Fabulous fresh seafood, at a great price has been a regular staple on board, and such was the case at Coffs and the Calista Seafood Diner was in full swing the night before our departure for Newcastle. The next leg south was a big one – over 190 miles – and we were away at first light with the prospect of a full day, and overnight in front of us. Our course was set well off Smoky Cape to the South where we hoped to pick up the East Coast Current that might give our passage a boost of up to 3 knots. With “Kev” our Fleming Windvane engaged we took off down the coast under wings of unfurled whiteness at unheard of speeds, reaching a regular 8.5 knots and occasionally up to nine. Yeee Haaaa!

Great sailing with "Kev" at the helm.

With degrees of latitude disappearing under our keel, and with our path taking us well out into the shipping channels, we were once again glad that we had the AIS ship identification system on board and linked to our chartplotter. Off Crowdy Head amongst a shoal of ships, we identified the North Fortune as a big ship sharing our opposing heading, and using this marvellous system we were able to contact this vessel and arrange safe port-to-port passing as we headed to our respective destinations. Off Port Stephens in the early hours Cookie had plenty to keep her awake as another collection of ships under way coincided with a downpour that reduced her limited night vision to zero. Again, with radar, and AIS overlaying our electronic chart, she piloted us through this navigational nightmare with aplomb. Below, and off watch, I slept and saw and heard nothing.



Dodging ships ( the triangles are the ships, we're the blackmark, the line was our course!)

At dawn the smudged outline of headlands off Port Stephens disappeared in the drizzle as Stockton Bight and eventually the grey outline of Nobby Island at the Newcastle Harbour entrance hove into view. It was a sodden landscape with not a hint of summer in sight.


A yacht departs Newcastle Harbour in the misty rain as we arrive.

The new facilities at the Newcastle Yacht Club include a fine eatery and facilities for visitors including en-suite type individual bathroom facilities, with that rarely found cruising quality, privacy. Swish, eh, we thought, although privacy is not enshrined on a small ship as it is in landscaped suburbia. More staggeringly swish than this was the Superyacht Athena, tethered across the waterway from us. The plaything of software billionaire Jim Clark, she is the largest private yacht afloat at a touch under 300’ with a beam in excess of our length. She carries a permanent crew of 20, and if you Google her on Superyacht Athena, you will see, sadly, more teak than is left in Borneo. Her masts are so tall that they need permanent air navigation lights. We looked out for Jim and we were going to invite him over for some gherkin dip and jatz, but apparently he has not “Leared” in yet. Apparently he heard that the crackers in Sydney Harbour at New Year are pretty good, so he sent down Athena so he’d have somewhere to sleep after the champagne and rockets. As you do. Back in Newcastle Athena was apparently “getting some things done”, and we called across to offer them the loan of a spanner or a screwdriver if they got stuck. We didn’t hear from them though.


The massive super yacht "Athena"

Despite the grim weather forecast, the stoic crew of Calista declared the following day a “lay day” and as a beach day at Nobby’s – our original plan – was now out of the question we decided to again hire a car to allow us to get a look at Lake Macquarie to the south, and Port Stephens to the north, places that we wanted to visit by sea, but might now only be reached by land.
Our hope that the weather forecast would not prove to be so dire proved to be wishful thinking, and as we skated our way south to Swansea at the head of Lake Macquarie, the rain sheeted down and visibility was measured in meters. At the Marine Rescue station opposite the Swansea entrance and breakwater, the operators took pity on us and invited us in, to give us shelter from the storm. It was great to visit the facility and see first hand how Marine Rescue is electronically gearing its tracking systems to help keep voyagers safe out at sea. Essentially, instead of using written sheets phone and fax, a vessel will be tracked electronically, and operators will be automatically alerted if it becomes overdue. It presented a new challenge for the MR operators, who are in the main, retirees.


The friendly Marine Rescue crew at the Swansea Marine Rescue Base.

On our way to Port Stephens, we flanked the eastern shores of Lake Macquarie and enjoyed a brief visit to the Port Macquarie Yacht Club which had a welcoming, genuinely nautical, and clubbable feel to it. Peering through the deluge did not prevent us for forming a high opinion of Lake Macquarie and its potential for future investigation. With rain still bathing (the next measure up from “bucketing”) down we headed north beyond, over the imposing Stockton Bridge – great view from here according to the ladies at the Newcastle Info Centre – to Port Stephens. We were not sure what to expect of Port Stephens but our arrival at its epicentre in Nelson Bay happily coincided with a temporary clearing of the tempest. It was clear that we had entered tourism central with far more glitz and development than we had imagined. From the marina upwards, this was obviously an up market location that oozed gold shoes and handbags.

The Nelson Bay Marina precinct in the gloom...be lovely on a sunny day!

A stroll along the marina precinct, and some browsing in the retail hub was enough for us although at the Red Ned’s Gourmet Pie Bar I found the Gold Medallist, Home Baked Pastry Division, for our journey. The array of amazingly creative pies – no one in NSW or Qld it seems has any idea of how to bake a pastie – was overwhelming (check it out at http://www.redneds.com.au/) and from a blanket finish in selection I chose an Authentic Tandoori Chicken pie from the warmer and wept in delight in its consumption. Being totally captivated, I left with a Silver Medallist offering for future consumption – a Minted Lamb - still wondering about their Two Fat Ladies Seafood Pie.

Shoal Bay and Nelson Head near the bar entrance.

At nearby Nelson Head overlooking the entrance to the majestic Port Stephens, we escaped the glam of Nelson Bay and found the walk-through Coastal Patrol Lighthouse precinct, its interesting information centre, and marvellous view over Shoal Bay to the heads an excellent use of our limited time. At Fingal Bay, Anna bay, Samari Bay, Boat Harbour, and finally Birubi Beach overlooking the 4WD mecca of Stockton Beach, we found lower key and charming costal locales that for us had a great deal to offer. On our drive back to Newcastle we agreed that in spite of the weather, our whistle-stop tour had been well worth doing, and we had gleaned some invaluable first hand appreciation of both Lake Macquarie and Port Stephens as cruising destinations. And, there had been that Tandoori pie….!

Despite the rainy weather we had a good time in Newcastle!

Leaving the Gold Coast Seaway and heading south, a 47’Catamaran, Plan B, had cleared at the same time and our respective paths to Newcastle had us frequently in proximity. Plan B had been planning to enter Port Stephens at dawn, but given the weather, and the fact that, like us they were unfamiliar with the entrance, they resolved to push on home to their marina at The Royal Motor Yacht Club in Pittwater, Broken Bay. They were curious to learn of our travels and called up on radio to invite us to the RMYC and share times at sea over a repast at the club. This sounded to us to be a fine impromptu offer, and so our imminent departure from Newcastle coincided in us planning a passage to Pittwater, along the northern coastline of Sydney. Sydney! Already Rosshaven Marine in Townsville was an aeon away.