Cleone - CLEONE Leg 14 Days 2 & 3 - Water in the Cockpit

So far, it's been a rough passage.

 

As you know, Cleone is a dry boat.  She is heavy for her size, with a small central cockpit that is well protected by the fixed, not very pretty but eminently practical, doghouse.  We are not used to being deluged by floods of salt water, though the helmsman inevitably gets wet when it rains.  And it has so far - everywhere - been warm enough to be able to stand and get wet in your shirt-sleeves then dry off in the breeze.  This time it has been different, and we have been wearing full oilskins for the last 48 hours.  Crossing the Gulf of Carpantaria the wind built steadily, and by nightfall of the second day we had put in the third reef on the mainsail, got rid the mizzen and rolled away all but a pocket-handkerchief of the genoa.  For a day and a half, the wind blew at a steady 30 to 35 knots (Beaufort 7-8), gusting every so often to even higher speeds.  The wind was out of the south east.  The Gulf of Carpantaria is shallow, but the bay itself opens deep into the north of Queensland.  The long fetch enabled a big, steep sea to build up, with breaking crests dotted haphazardly amongst the chop.  Cleone rode this awkward sea impurturbably, rolling her stern over the wave before sliding down comfortably the other side.  But every so often, a sea larger than the average eight to ten feet would come along at an awkward angle, or a crest would break just as we topped it.  Water would then come pouring down from the foredeck to escape harmless over the side, or would slop directly into the cockpit.  With two of us, we have been doing thrre-hour watches in the night and four in the day-time.  At one stage, the helmsman would get doused at irregular intervals of about 5 minutes.  Luckily we have not been cold, but there is an air of semi-permanent dampness at the moment.

 

Happily, as last night wore on, the wind gradually moderated, and by this morning it has settled down to a gusty twenty five knots or so (Beaufort 6).  We have been able to unfurl a little more of the genoa, and we are making a drier and more comfortable passage.  Wind and water regardless, our progress has been good.  We made nearly 150 miles towards Darwin on Day 2, and a similar total on Day 3.  The Skipper's mind is starting to wrestle with the connundrum of the Darwin Tides, as the last hundred miles or so is very much affected by them.  Timing will be crucial, but quite how we will manage it is anyone's guess at the moment!  And we are also wondering what the Hygine Authority will do to poor Cleone; we have been threatened with more food throw-aways and we know that our salt water systems will be flushed out.  Quite why is anyone's guess, the latter are long full of fresh Aussie sea-water!  But the process will delay our move into one of Darwin's expensive and said-to-be-comfortable marinas by some 16 hours whist the magic potion takes effect.  We must spend these hours swinging at anchor, so there will be plenty of time to report back.

 

We have seen very little traffic since the first day, apart from a distant yacht that passed us going south to north - where on earth from and to - and a little RAN (Royal Australian Navy) patrol boat that shadowed us suspiciously for a while.  We knew he was nearby because one of the ever-watchful Coastwatch planes called him up and demanded to know who he was!  His cover - if any - was blow instantly.  The Australian government watches its coast carefully, and they probably have a very good idea of exactly who is in the country and how they got there.  I wonder if the UK Government can make the same claim?