Suffice it to say that this twisted, tortuous, waterway was not meant to be traversed in a sailing yacht. We are attempting to move up the coast of North eastern Australia inside the barrier reef. To do this with a modicum of safety and in an effort to keep the keel intact, we are following the shipping channel. On stretches where the wind is at a usable angle and the reef is high enough to reduce the fetch of the waves and swell, it is quite pleasant travelling. The scenery to leeward is really nice; range after range of undulating softly rounded mountains, pretty little islands, and mostly blue sky and green water. To windward, the reefs occasionally rear their heads enough to provide a dramatic edge for the surf to break against. The uncomfortable part is that the channel is not in any semblance of a straight line. It zigs and zags in a continual series of non-stop dog legs, requiring sail changes from every few minutes to up to a couple of hours, if we are lucky. It goes something like this: put the pole up, put the Genoa out, put the main out, sail a bit, the crew sleeps a bit while the Captain plays chicken with 800 foot long cargo ships, the channel turns, the crew wakes up( barely), then the main comes in, the preventer gets moved to the other side, the boat is turned, the boom is moved to the other side, the main goes out the other side, the Captain goes to sleep. The crew plays chicken with giant freighters. The big ships are really the least of the problem. They are predictable, polite, and always up for a radio chat of reassurance to pass Port to port when coming from opposing directions. It is the crazy wind going from 12 to 27 knots that is the problem, usually during Captain’s watch, the wind blows along at a sedate 12-15 knots, and he is on edge, trying to coax every bit of speed from full sails. But invariably as crew crawls out of bed the wind says, “Oh Ho! Her she is! Let’s play! ZOOOOOOOM! And suddenly there is double the amount of wind that has been blowing on Captain’s watch. Crew want nothing more than to reef in sail, get the boat upright, THEN talk to captain. Captain wants to brief crew WHILE boat is zooming along heeling uncomfortably, and straying outside the channel as it rounds up. Captain is sooo happy that the boat is finally moving, he wants to enjoy the speed, Crew wants the briefing after the reefing..Captain wants to brief before We reef. Oy vey! This does not produce domestic harmony. Eventually, the sails do get reefed, the turn is made, we are back in the safety of the channel, Captain gets some sleep, the channel takes another turn, Captain gets up, wind lays down, the angle is all wrong. The Genoa is furled. The line comes out of the pole, the pole is put away, the Genoa goes back out. Crew gets some sleep, crew wakes up, it’s time to turn again...here comes the wind.....zoooooom! The turn puts the wind on our tail; the Genoa comes in, the pole goes up, the Genoa goes out. Rinse, repeat, follow with snack. Because we are in an incredibly narrow channel, with keel eating reefs on each side, and sharing the half mile wide channel with giant cargo ships, turning and making sail changes with every turn, there is absolutely no setting the sails, setting the auto pilot and relaxing. Ha! Every three hour shift is a gruelling marathon of hyper-attentive concentration. Every gust of wind sends the boat rounding up out of the channel, every breaking wave hits the boat and sets her off course. These things we take for granted in a sailboat in the open water...they become major impediments to enjoyment in a narrow channel. The waves are the most astonishing part of the equation to me. I was wrongly informed that we would be behind the barrier reef in “ protected waters”. Well, no such thing, the waves are relentless and huge, rolling in surf across the water, hissing and booming, boarding the boat, coming on the beam, they creat havoc as we heel to their uplift, and everything not tied down goes sliding and flying. Even when a couple times a day the wind goes down to 12 knots (always during Captain’s watch) the waves don’t have time to dissipate before the howling wind comes back and whips them back up into a frenzy. In such conditions, neither of us is getting enough restful sleep. And because the wind and the waves are so big, there are no safe, let alone, legal anchorages where we could drop the hook and get some rest. This is aboriginal land, and to anchor here requires more palaver than is worth for a few hours in a rolly anchorage. We just have to grit our teeth and realise there is probably six more days of this treacherous reef dodging, uncomfortable passage making before we finally get to Darwin and this is behind us. I really understand Captain Cook’s eagerness to find a way out of this labyrinth of reefs!
image1.