Port Lincoln - Wirrina 16/1 - 20/1/2011

One of the questions that bedevil owners of cruising yachts in South Australia is the simple one of “do you have to head to Queensland – or further – to find great cruising waters?” It is not for us to judge this one, except to say that, from our observations, cruising destinations in South Australia, and especially those in the Port Lincoln region and around Kangaroo Island would take some beating, against all company. True the water is colder, and there are no coral reefs, but in every other respect it is only the formidable Bass Strait to the East, and the ferocious Bight to the West, that keep some of SA’s sensational coastal places virtually undiscovered. Then, we have not ventured beyond Cape Catastrophe to SA’s remote West Coast where nautical luminaries such as Andy Haldane talk of their being marine riches of unplumbed depths. For the moment we have not had time to revisit the sublime Memory Cove, and the ever fascinating Sir Joseph Banks Group, both just a day sail from Lincoln. With winds settling from the SSW behind a change, conditions were ripe for a visit to one of SA’s most spectacular anchorages, whose forbidding aspect is sufficient to send many voyagers scuttling for places where it is easier to sleep of a night. We have visited Althorpe Island by day, but now the chance to overnight there was too much to resist.

Another colourful dawn departure.

Because Althorpe Island lay some 65 nm from Port Lincoln, there was a need to clear the Port Lincoln Marina by sunrise for a late afternoon arrival at Althorpe, off the rugged tip of Yorke Peninsula. This would allow us time to be secure at anchor by sundown or give us time to set sail for ports beyond should conditions at Althorpe prove untenable. So with high hopes of places to seaward, we left behind the predictability and social whirl of marina life for whatever might come our way beyond Cape Donnington. The forecast suggested a sailable angle, but the weather spirits were contrary, and we were well out toward Dangerous Reef before our bow and the wind direction were sufficiently separated to allow us to unleash our ship and let her fly over the swells. It is hard to express how magnificent it is to be at the helm of a well trimmed yacht as she carves her way across the contours of the sea, in perfect harmony with the relentless ocean. The whiff of salt spray in the nostrils, the helm finger light to the touch, and miles to seaward slowly unfolding. It is a heady, narcotic, and irresistible experience and all the more so in remote and pristine waters where there are no other ships in sight.

The forbidding Cape Spencer ...." Tiger Country!"

Abeam of the remarkable Wedge Island is found the lurking gnarl of North East Rocks, and beyond this our relaxed mood gave way to some sharp concentration as we closed the narrow passage between the hideous Emmes Reef to starboard, and Reef Head protruding seaward from the land, where fans of spray on the rocks sounded a warning for us to keep sharp attention to the chart and to our course and direction. Moving mountains of blue alternately lifted and lowered us as Archimedes predicted they would, before they disintegrated in towers of spray on the cliffs of Whalers Way. To add to the complexity, cray pots were scattered through the area, including some on the charted navigation line giving a supposedly safe passage to Cape Spencer and beyond. This is a place of spectacular beauty where a mistake could literally prove fatal for a small ship such as ours. Ships finer and bigger than ours have come to grief here in the past, and we wished to not add to the grim history of the place. By now Althorpe Island was clearly in sight just a handful on miles away.

Alone at the amazing rugged anchorage ... Althorpe Island.

Althorpe Island is located SE of Cape Spencer and is a 90 odd hectare limestone buttress, commanding approaches to SA waters via Investigator Strait, the commodious channel separating Kangaroo Island from Yorke Peninsula, leading to Adelaide. Through the glass, the waters surrounding the isle appeared alarmingly white with spume and spray, with heavy rollers deflecting spectacularly from its seaward aspect. When closer, in the lee of the cliffs abeam of the now derelict service jetty, we found tolerable shelter and excellent holding on a sandy bottom. Secure, with all our anchor chain deployed, we settled back in awe of this quite majestic location. To the west surf roared and crashed on the natural breakwater linked to the island whilst above, the limestone cliffs turned ochre in the late afternoon light. A Sea Eagle soared above, eyeing inventorially, the hordes of Shearwaters or Mutton Birds returning to their nesting burrows which honeycomb the island. We rolled easily, but not uncomfortably at anchor and settled back with offerings simmering below, awaiting the beam from the lighthouse to spear out into the night sky. To go below with the roar of the ocean drumming through the portholes was both exciting and disconcerting. Cookie’s diary recorded succinctly that we were “in Tiger country”.

Landing can only be attempted on low tide!

In the morning, with the swell dropping, but still evident, we launched our duck, and with a pinch of derring do, negotiated our way ashore by the jetty. From the cove a posted walking track rises upwards etched into the cliffs and from its vantage point, the views down to the anchorage, and across in a panorama to the wilds of Yorke Peninsula are breathtakingly spectacular. Near the summit the Sea Eagle from the previous eve took flight from a cave in the cliffs, and passing just metres above Cookie’s head, gave her a disdainful glance, before wheeling nonchalantly away into the heavens. On the table top of Althorpe, with Mutton Bird burrows all about, we made our way by path to inspect the now deserted Lighthouse and its keepers’ cottages. The Althorpe lighthouse has traditional, classic lines reflecting the colonial times in which it was built. There is no denying the romanticism attached to Lighthouses and the stoic life of the keepers and their families in days gone by, but in wandering around the cottages, we wondered whether the gloss of remote life on a place like Althorpe might have tarnished a little in the harsh and unremitting blast of winter.

The Althorpe Island Lighthouse.

When we refer to the Althorpe light we should really speak in the plural because, just a short walk from the main lighthouse, facing to the North West and the reefs and headlands noted earlier, lies a second and smaller “lead light” to aid mariners by night. In a piece if ingenious optics, the two lights aligned give mariners a safe “lead” past Emmes Reef etc, and the smaller light is “sectored”, so that if a vessel wanders from a safe line the light turns from white, to red or green, giving the helm an instruction re which way to steer to get back on course. We do all we can to pass this coastline by day.

Althorpe Island fades into the distance, unlike my coloured pants!

Because we were planning to head to Emu Bay or another anchorage on the North Coast of Kangaroo Island and because that meant a passage of over 35 miles to get there, our time ashore and aloft on Althorpe was limited, so we soon re-traced our steps back to Calista and hoisted sail for Investigator Strait. We were immediately checking and re-checking our on-board instrumentation in some disbelief, for facing us was a breeze of about 15 knots, some 70-80 degrees off the bow. Just about perfect! We had not seen sailing conditions like these since the Coral Sea, and maybe once or twice in a brief episode on the East Coast. “Kev” our self-steering wind vane was champing at the bit to grip the helm, but with us romping along at between 6.5 and 7.5 knots over the Southern Ocean swells this was too much fun to leave in the hands of a machine. Later the vagaries of weather in KI waters caused the wind to waft and veer, but by then we were around Cape D’ Estang and the secure anchorage of Emu Bay was in sight.

A reflective cuppa overlooking Emu Bay.

In my (Colin’s) teen years my Grandfather, Archie Buick, Auntie Winnie (Whittle), and Uncle Ted and families all lived within a stone’s throw of the jetty at Emu Bay whilst Uncle Hartley leased land toward Ball Rock at the eastern end of the bay and Uncle Herbie and family had a farm just up the road in the Wisanger Hills. Understandably Emu Bay holds a special place for me and as we settled in the excellent anchorage I thought for a while of wandering down from old Archie’s cottage whilst on holidays, to catch and release stingrays from the jetty, and heading out with dad and Mr Beckman – whose house just up from the beach is still there – to secure a feed of whiting or snook out in the bay. It was a time of wood stoves and simple living with nary an I-Pod or an X-Box in sight. Emu Bay is much changed these days, but I doubted that the plasma TV’s and back-to-back DVD’s that shone out from the picture windows of the “shacks” to the anchorage made the kids staying there today any happier than we were. Maybe they should head to the jetty and fish for stingrays. Just 40 miles distant by sea, Althorpe Island was already, in all other respects, an aeon away.

One of our favourite places - Browns Beach, Eastern Cove. Our long swim is to Rocky Point at the end of the beach in the foreground.

Winds around the perimeter of Kangaroo Island, because of its topography, can be fluky and obtuse, and it is often better to make passage when winds are light, as many mornings are, rather than wait in the faint hope that a sailable breeze is just around the corner. With this in mind, we hoisted anchor early from Emu Bay and were soon comfortably around Marsden Point making for Eastern Cove opposite American River, with a mainsail up but essentially converting diesel to distance. Whilst cruising over these last few months we have spent more time than we bargained for in “fixing our boat in exotic locations”, the fate, it seems, of most sea travellers. On the upside though, we have also had lots of “good times with fine friends in exotic locations” as well. Now, approaching the quality Eastern Cove anchorage, we were again making a change from wilderness to wine and dine as following a connection with long time friend Mary-Alice Ballantine we were delighted to accept an invite from “MA”, and husband Ron to join them for an evening repast at their delightful abode overlooking Pelican Lagoon, just upstream from American River. Ron and MA have strong connections to the environment and eco-tourism, and their work, amongst other things includes sharing their passion with visitors at Seal Bay and at other remote places on Kangaroo Island. It was another of those great nights in top company where it got late early! Thanks Ron and MA for having us “on board!”

A wonderful evening with MA & Ron, at the delightful Pelican Cottage.

One of the ironies of our voyage has been that, as lovers of beach, sun and surf, in provisioning to leave SA waters we packed all of the things that we would need on the palm fringed shores of sun-drenched Queensland. Our minds were filled with visions of lounge lizard days under the beach tent, dipping ourselves in tranquil seas, straight out of the brochures. The reality, for us, was something else, and apart from all of the wonderful experiences that we had, our beach shelter was only unfurled once – on the beach at Mooloolaba – and even then we didn’t lie under it because we were too busy making the most of the surf. So here we were, after all those sea miles, heading to Brown’s Beach, Eastern Cove for – wait for this – a day at the beach! Being guilt ridden about the sloth that had permeated our last few days, our “beach day” did not extend to books under beach shelters and the like. Instead, we charged off on a long beach walk to Baudin Beach, Rocky Point and return, and then plunged in for a 1.6km swim along the shore to Rocky – it is best not to stray too far out in this part of the world – before a beach run in the softer sand back to the duck, where we slumped on the sand in the late afternoon sun. So much for our “lazy day at the beach”!

Sunset and moonrise on our last night on anchor, after a great "not so lazy day"



Being desirous of milking the last drops from our lotus land life, and with the wind tending warm from the North-East, we opted for one more dissipative activity before accepting the grim reality of heading back across Backstairs Passage to responsibilities and home. Pat, from Cooinda Charters at American River, courtesy of his wife Marlene, has offered a unique vehicular service to visiting mariners that sounded like too much fun to ignore. Rod and Sal had spoken to us about this, and now, after a VHF booking via Pat, we were set to meet Carol from VMR American River at Pat’s place on the foreshore before heading out on the Highways of Kangaroo Island. The arrangement is simple: book the car through Pat, fill out your details in the folder in the car, put in some petrol to top up the tank, chip in to defray upkeep costs, and head off at a sedate pace to avoid the intervention of the Road Traffic Act. There was one other thing – all users were required to “sign the bonnet” with texta to record Date, Ship, Crew, and maybe an inscription of sorts. This was a like a mobile “A Frame” of Middle Percy Island (see Yeppoon – Mackay Blog June 2010), or the Ship’s Notice Board of Refuge Cove, Wilsons Promontory, although of more modest proportions.

Signing the "Patmobile" with Carol, who does a fantastic job on VMR American River.

Having completed the above, and re-connected with the wonderful Carol of VMR airways we were off, at the aforementioned pace, in a real car, made of real metal, and with few environmental qualities of note. We made a wallaby line to the stunning Pennington Bay, only kilometres away across the isthmus of the island where in gin-clear waters a gentle swell had coaxed a brace of surfers and a sprinkling of family folk to spend time at what must be one of Australia’s finest beaches Here we revelled in a bracing plunge in the surf before reboarding our land ship (it felt like piloting a ship) for a sojourn to Kangaroo Island’s metropolis, Kingscote.
We love browsing in coastal towns whilst on passage and Kingscote is a long time favourite of ours. Following a splendid lunch at a local café and a browse or two we made for the foreshore to check conditions out at sea before wending our way back to American River in the “Patmobile” as we had now dubbed our conveyance.

The magnificent Pennington Bay.

We have always been wary of conditions on the shoulder of a change on Kangaroo Island. Once, in company with Bill and Pauline on Tibia we had sailed from Kingscote after a similar stroll through town only to be swept up in a change that was forecast to be a comfortable 15-20 knots, but blew in frighteningly across Nepean Bay to 50 knots on our anemometer. We had gone from sublime mode to survival mode in a trice, and it was an experience deeply scoured in our memory. Now, after returning the Patmobile to its pen we returned to Calista on a mooring in the river to pore over the latest info available online from the Bureau of Meteorology.

Reluctantly we cross a glassy Backstairs Passage.

We had intended “overnighting” on the Island before making our way back across Backstairs Passage between KI and the mainland in the morning to Wirrina under the post-frontal breeze. Now, the front seemed to be more aggressive than was originally forecast, and with strong wind warnings now listed for all SA coasts, we thought it best to reconsider our plans. Backstairs Passage in strong winds from either the NW or SE can be a hellish place for mariners as the wind funnels between the Island and Fleurieu Peninsula, to lift the forecast wind way beyond levels of tolerance. If the wind meets and opposing tide in the strait, the resultant maelstrom is something see, and something to avoid! Careful analysis of the weather prognosis suggested that in the confused airs between the northerly and the change, a period of relative calm would prevail, and if we left American River as the northerly faded, we could enjoy a comfortable 4 hour passage back to Wirrina before the wind piped in from the south. To delay to the morning, as Cookie reminded me, would be to ignore the weather-safety rules that we had set for ourselves on our entire journey. Besides, since Bermagui, we had been nursing our standing rigging - the wires that hold up the mast [important!!] – following Cookie’s discovery of a cracked stainless fitting securing two of our side stays, whilst up the mast attending to light fittings. Happily, she does not miss much (!). To be caught in a hard blow in Backstairs Passage within sight of home would not be smart sailing.

We will miss the stunning sunsets at sea. This one abeam of Rapid Head, nearly home!

The rising moon lights the way to the Wirrina entrance.

So, considering the above, as the northerly faded we slid out of American River on the last leg of our journey, and under the iron mainsail (motor), we slid over a sleeping passage and with the looming buttress of Rapid Head ahead, and dolphins welcoming us home at the bow, Wirrina could be seen ahead. Under autohelm we enjoyed our last nibbles at sea under a sunset whose grandeur reflected all the wonder of the things that we had seen on our journey. Did we really sail to Wari Island where on a tropic sea we could see the forested peaks of Papua New Guinea? What would we make of all of the places that we had seen, the people that we had met and the array of experiences that we had shared along the way? For the moment as the sun painted one last picture in the west we made good our docklines, and at 2100hrs inst our noble ship took us through the harbour entrance of Wirrina and after 6593.5 nautical miles at sea, from April 5 2010, we were home. Yes, HOME!
We hugged Calista, our home upon the sea.



Cheers Calista & crew, welcome home !

With a pan of fresh Kangaroo Island flake on the stove we made good the cockpit for a modest welcome home ceremony of our own. As we conveyed some goodies above we paused to reflect on the card that has sat abeam of our companionway entrance for the entire journey. It was a good time to re-read its message…

Twenty years from now
you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do
than 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

( ps – a reflective blog will conclude this series, including our “Welcome Home” at the Marina, some thanks, and our thoughts on our months on the bounding main)