Broome to Dampier

Posted by Gavin

I write this as we sail out of Dampier. We had no intentions of visiting Dampier when we left Broome, but that’s sailing for you….

Leaving Broome put us back in a continuation of the weather we suffered when approaching Broome. Strong SW winds (don’t forget..we want to go SW) and swelly seas. Bollocks.

We tacked north west by night and south by day. Not close to the wind at all, but as close as we could sail with the steep waves and subsequent ‘hobby horsing’ spilling the wind from the sails. We got too complacent at times about the Genoa. The full genoa was needed to drive us through these conditions, and sometimes it was still flying in well over 20 kts, which made it extremely difficult to furl. The tension was so great that when we did furl it, fully or partially, it wound very tight and made either a bad shape or left a triangle out that caused mild turbulence over the staysail.

The lesson was finally and painfully learned when one of the flogging sheets whipcracked one of the very nice ‘clears’ in the doghouse and shattered the polycarbonate. We covered the hole with sailcloth, and now the beautiful ‘Anyway’ looks like a pirate with an eye patch. After five nights of this nonsense I decided to sail down the west side of the Dampier archipelago and stop in Hampton harbour for three nights.

What a weird place. A friendly boating club, but what boats! Squat/ugly/huge/strange pieces of floating industrial usefulness. Boats? Bagwhan Marine should pay a fine for crimes against aesthetics.  The few recreational vessels around were pretty flash powerboats (three axles for the trailers with these toys). The place is a huge industrial export centre. Stockpiles of salt wait to be shipped out, but far more extensive is the mullock heaps of iron ore, all being conveyor belted direct into the hold of dozens of huge cargo carriers. And there’s more… permanent flares from huge chimneys where the liquid natural gas is also being pumped into very specialised bulk carriers. Australia exports!  Defecates? Your superannuation at work!

The approaches to this (privately operated) port are spectacular. Many dredged channels, all marked by beacons that flash extremely brightly at night. For some reason all the green ones flash at the same time, then all of the red ones. Christmas on LSD!

And speaking of red….the halyards are all orange coloured from blowing iron ore dust. A bit like North Africa again, where the Haboob winds covered us with fine red dust/sand. I hope this stuff does’nt stain….

Blair and Greg hitchhiked to Karratha one day. That was one of the only two shore-forays. The wild conditions made shore trips in the tiny tinnie quite hazardous. I could not relax ashore, knowing that we had the return soaking (sinking?) to endure. I wish I hadn’t bought the thing. I’ll try and sell it in Exmouth.

Off to Exmouth, again!

And today, right now, we have a lovely sailing respite. Full sails, only 10kts of wind, we are making 4.5kts almost in the right direction. The plan is to anchor tonight behind Stewart Island, then overnight to Exmouth, probably to arrive about Midday on Wednesday. Only five days behind the original plan, though it feels like more than that.

Catch a fish, Greg, I’m ready for mackerel again!

Yeah Yeah…. Eventually anchored behind the new breakwater jetty at Cape Preston. Useful, if ugly. Winds still from the SW, we talked to a tugboat skipper on the radio who said he was anchored in 35kts last night. The forecast was for 20 kts, so I decided that the large industrial wharf was preferable to the diminutive  Stewart Island. We could also have an earlier beer.

This trip is becoming one of those ‘character forming’ exercises.

A good night, however. Dinner a la Greg. Turtles huffing in the night. Some swell rounding the breakwater and rolling us gently and regularly.  The next morning, as we sailed off, a huge snorting and roaring workboat appeared and told us that we had to go north (we wanted to go south west) as “port operations” were under way. No options here, they literally shepherded us for a while. Lots of big blokes with hard hats and day-glow jackets standing on the rear deck and laughing. There was a massive port operation indeed. A huge dumb barge, full of magnetite, was being towed out to the cargo ship three miles to the north. Another tug was towing six ‘fenders’, each as big as a bus, to place between the ship and the barge when it eventually got there. After a while the skipper of the tugboat realised that there was plenty of room for us to pass behind him and suggested we do so. We turned west and then were again called by the slightly more belligerent workboat that had shepherded us before going ahead to the cargo ship, they also then gave us permission to cut through the convoy. I guess they had to by then. They did, however, point out that they were supposed to ‘move us on’ last night, but decided to let us shelter, undisturbed, instead. That was good.

It is interesting to see how much of this WA coast has been claimed, (occupied?) by industry. First the vast acreage of waters that “may” have unlit and unmarked buoys and pearl leases, now the extensive “port operations” associated with the huge resource export industries of iron ore and gas. I am reminded of the way that the military took control of vast tracts of airspace in the Northern Territory in the seventies and eighties. They took what they wanted (and more than they needed) because there was no-one else using the place at the time. This could not have happened in places such as Europe or the UK because ‘customary’ usage would have been affected. At least there would have been public awareness/consultation/interest.

OK, so everybody benefits, theoretically. But at the same time so much of these waters are “unsurveyed”.  I am sure that the pearlers at least have done their own surveys, but it does not seem to be that the knowledge they have is passed on into the public domain. Would this not be an acceptable social contribution for these industries to offer?  They are using (and selling) finite natural resources, and they are creating restrictions to the movement of an admittedly small number  of private vessels.  It seems to me that more could be asked of them.

Good sailing by day, followed by tight navigation at night. Another large Spanish Mackrel onboard. The tidal current opposed us with 3kts of adversity, the relatively tight Mary-Anne Passaage was further constricted by two tugs towing (how did they stay in control?) the biggest dumb-barges I have seen, and then the waters just outside Onslow were inhabited by shoals, reefs, dredgers and gas installations. We wove through the shallows, using engine and sails, to get out of that area and nearer to Exmouth before the strong SW winds predicted could give us further trouble. We got to Exmouth at @ 11am, were waved into the marina by a whale tail, and tied up to a deserted but extremely modern dock.

Then the phone call and the world collapsed. Maggies son, Robbie, had taken his own life.

Greg and Blair are left on the boat to tidy up before leaving. I am flying back to Wanaka to get there as soon as I can.

Right now I never want to see WA again. Huge, brash, ugly and full of fear and sorrow. I don’t know when I will get back to “Anyway”, and right now I don’t know that I ever want to. This is the most devastating piece of news that I have ever experienced. I think I must be in shock.   

Around Australia

It's been a while since the last blog, we didn't sail much last year, life got in the way. A brief saunter back up the NT coast  around the Coburg Peninsula was all we could manage, we found a idyllic spot to drop anchor for a few days, fished, watched dolphins, played mandolin, read and relaxed.

This year is different, for Gavin at least. He has now embarked on an epic trip from Darwin through the Kimberleys, to Broome, then Perth and the plan is that I join him there and sail on to Adelaide.

Fortunately he is not alone out there on the water at present. Greg is sailing with him all the way from Darwin back to his home in Adelaide, Bruce also did the Darwin to Broome leg and now Blair is on the boat to Perth. ANYWAY is currently somewhere, in the middle of nowhere or maybe anywhere. Actually not quite true, I can  track the boat through Greg's SPOT gismo which helps me feel more connected, slightly.   

http://share.findmespot.com/shared/faces/viewspots.jsp?glId=0a8G69qaD1URhTvsK7MccWH3YKQCLEMqx

Right now it shows them heading for South Hedland. They have been sailing straight into the wind since they left Broome so slow going. 

However the purpose of this Blog update is really to publish the photos and text Gavin sent from the Kimberleys. The photos may not in the right places at present so I may rearrange later.

"Day eight of the Kimberley exploratlon.

All sorts of thoughts pass through my mind on trips like this. The arrogance of this subheading comes to mind straight away. The real explorers were amazing…to travel waters like these with the technologies they had and without prior knowledge took great courage and determination. Their systems must have been flooded with adrenalin several times a day every day for months on end. If they lived long enough to be eligible for arthritic pains they would never have noticed them.

Me? I’ve been “alarmed’ twice a day now on every day! I have to say, however, that some of that fright/fight/flight stuff has been caused by the use of modern technology and the apparently authoritative information carried within it.

It is arguably better to have no information than bad information. Most of the charts are accurate, it is just the whizz-kid trickery of current flow prediction that is palpably wrong. Interestingly, when trying to find the source of the problem (currents shown relating to the ebb and flow of the tide are the opposite of reality) I find the same on the Admiralty charts for this region. My chart was purchased nine days ago and was 

adjusted up to the date of purchase.

Enough whingeing. This place, the Kimberley coast, is just as fantastical as I have heard, just as beautiful, wild, extensive, varied and full of life as I imagined. I was here for three months, mainly fishing for Spanish Mackrel over submerged offshore banks, in 1992. I remember thinking then that I had wandered into Brobdinag, the fictional counter to the land of Lilliput in Gullivers Travels. That impression is here again, huge tides, huge currents, huge fish, huge reptiles, and a feeling of being very small and naked in the middle of it all.

The weather is hot today and winds have been non-existent except for late in the afternoons, when an on-shore sea breeze rises, sometimes up to 15kts. At present we are trending down the coast to the SW and as the tides are flooding south in the mornings, we are faced with an inconvenient choice, either to motor in the calm morning with a favourable tide, or sail in the afternoons with the current against us. The latter provides enjoyable sailing but gets us nowhere. The tidal currents can be 4kts or more around the many headlands.

Today we used the calm sea and a furious Yanmar diesel to get to the Mitchell River before the tide turned.

Rivers are a feature of this trip. We arrived from our three day crossing of the Bonaparte Gulf at the mouth of the King George river. Not such a long gorge this one, so we dinghied upstream between spectacular sandstone walls until we found a cliff with water trickling down. Earlier visitors had left a hawser and a rope ladder to help others climb the vertical rocks. A bit tricky and slightly scary, but well worth the effort when rewarded by freshwater pools above the cliff to drink from and swim in.

No saltwater swimming in this country! The nearest creek to todays anchorage is 

called porosis creek. Just a clue.

Later on we found another good anchorage, named Freshwater Bay. Yes, behind the mangrove fringe was a creek that led to a rock wall, easily scaled this time, with a series of freshwater pools and cascades. Friendly birds, small freshwater fishes, Pandanis and Capok trees amongst the sclerophill and monsoon vines. Beautiful. It was easy here to fill up our freshwater tanks to the maximum. The bay had some interesting residents though, a rather curious family of 4 metre Grey-nurse or Tawny sharks (not sure which) and a very large hammerhead. They liked us, and kept nuzzling the hull as they swam around and round us. It may be because we had a 12kg Spanish Mackrel hanging over the stern as we arrived. The Hammerhead took the head and shoulders off the mackrel  before we realised, but he still left too much fresh fish for just the three of us.

So it all feels very far away from ‘anywhere’, wherever that is. I suppose by that I mean/feesl far from where friends and family and (my) important people are.

In Freshwater Bay we spoke briefly to a couple who arrived shortly after we did. They were in a lovely, old, wooden, extremely practical Queensland style family cruiser. Apart from being impressed with the setup of their boat, I was also aware of their self-containment. I refer not just to the fact that this 38’ boat carried 1400 ltrs of diesel and 1600 ltrs of water, but to the fact that they were seemingly relaxed and ‘complete’.  They were together in that place, they were (I extrapolate) not as far ‘away’ as we are from family and friends.

I couldn’t afford the kind of Ark that would take all of my family and friends anyway (Anyway?).  It would have to be very big and have lots of separate spaces for all of you very different people. All strong personalities too, come to think of it. Not a good idea. Did Noah have these worries?

I have two brilliant crew with me on this part of the trip.

Greg Jackson has already sailed (it was his first ever sail) with me on a delivery from the Solomon Islands to Darwin. Later he sailed on “Anyway” from the Bay of Islands to Noumea and Cairns, and he now says that he feels as if he is in his second home. He cooks and even polishes the interior and oils the teak when not helming. When I make  the autopilot steer he gets jealous!

Bruce Garnet has not been on such a prolonged trip or a large sailing boat before, but is taking to it with the characteristic gusto with which he approaches anything he does. He is also an enthusiastic cook, we are eating well! The new (crocodile repellent) aluminium dinghy is very well secured on deck in a cradle of Bruce’s design and construction. And come to think of it, there’s another 3kg of curry in the freezer that he cooked before we left Darwin. The fish he caught was too big, we’ll never get around to the curry!

 Another reason to have Whanau on board.

Day 11, Sunday 14^th September.

A day of rest. The fact that it Sunday is coincidental. The fact that this anchorage is called ‘Shelter bay’ is appropriate. There’s no significant wind or swell to be concerned about, but if there were then this bay would be as good as it gets. We are offshore, between East and West Purdue Islets, where the channel between them hooks around and crates a space surrounded by walls made from crumbling rectilinear blocks of red sandstone. We anchored last night and saw reef sharks (roast lamb offcuts seem to be to their taste) and a turtle. Frigate birds are visible high above. Strangely, there seem to be a lot of Coucal Pheasants on the islands. Considering what crap fliers they are it seems surprising that they are here at all. But I 

love the noises they make.

We have no more than ten days to get to Broome if we are to keep to our schedule. There is so much to explore here! Our chosen strategy will be to let the winds decide. Sail when we can and explore where the winds take us. Its as good a discernment as any. The West Australian Cruising Guide does not know it all, and has led us into at least one unwise decision. The Mitchell river was a waste of a day and several  litres of fuel. Too far off track and not rewarding enough really. To have got more out of that visit would have consumed more effort and time than we felt we had. Do it properly or not at all? Diesel is an issue as well. By planning to get to places there is pressure to produce the result. We have been caught sometimes with a dying wind and strengthening adverse current…and then had to use the diesel. Food and water is plentiful in the Kimberley. Wind and diesel  is not. Serendipity has always been rewarding for me, so allow that freedom? Part of adopting that attitude led us to hoist the spinnaker yesterday. It was a good (not very) ‘dry’ run for us. The last time it was out of the bag was before New Caledonia, in very strong winds that eventually blew the head fastening out of the big colourful balloon. Now I remember how to use it we will do it again, hopefully with more wind next time. I think the reason that the spinnaker filled at all yesterday was because we were travelling backwards with the current, and it was the apparent wind that filled the sail!

Oh, and yesterday we got good footage of playful dolphins at the bow, and a large whale tail that did its iconic wave at us as it disappeared, before we could get the cameras out.  

Monday 15^th.

Lovely sailing now.  

A turquoise sea and dusty blue sky, with only a few shredded cumulus over the land to the east. We tried to sail out of the bay but, despite hoisting the spinnaker again, like a huge impotent flag, we had to use the engine to get away from the reefs. But only for an hour or so….then sails hoisted again, close hauled on the moderate sea breeze, to just make our rhumb line. We should be anchored in the north of the Coronation Islands shortly after the tide turns against us.

In fact we didn’t make it to the Coronation Anchorage, but found our own  anchorage in a bay on the east side of Desfontaines  island.

The next day we deliberately sailed close to Bernoulli island, three engineless aviators paying tribute to one of the several souls whose scientific observations have been invoked to explain heavier-than-air flight. Not that Bernoulli knew this, neither do I expect that he was aware of this remote and uninhabited island named in his honour. Good on yer Bernoulli, I feel I should apologise for promoting Coander as well as you!

The conundrum described earlier, of sailing against the tide in the afternoon sea breezes, is getting less problematic now. The tides are changing one hour later every day, and moving toward neaps as well.

Today we will have several hours of daylight after dropping the anchor. There are reportedly a lot of whales around here. Hopefully they are not as shy as the last one.

And on Tuesday we saw a whale!

In fact a mother and calf played just beside  ‘Anyway’ as we sailed along in very calm water.

We are getting to understand the patterns of this strange land a bit better. What does that mean? It means that we are used to surprises and dramatic changes in topography, both above and below water. It means that the tides and their dramatic effect are less alarming and better respected, and that we are working out an almost predictable daily weather pattern. That in turn means that we are freeing ourselves from the Freemantle sailing club Kimberley cruising Guide. Its an amazingly good and useful volume, but, like Alan Lucas’ Guides, it does not cover all the good anchorages and places. In fact that would be impossible. The further west we sail the wilder and more convoluted the coast becomes.

On Thursday 18^th we were foxed by the complex Kimberley tidal patterns again. We planned to get near to the vast Montgomery reef and watch the waterfalls pour off it as the tide fell. But the tide was so neap that the water never got below the reef! I think that this is a rare event, but unfortunately not a spectacular one. We sailed past instead, down to Raft Point, doing 6 to 7 knots through the water. Lovely.

Friday 19^th. Not a drop of wind! No horizon…just blue sea and sky. The (beautiful) monotony and silence punctuated several times by huge splashes and waving whale tails, and our shouts of excitement to see them. The cameras are never ready though! The makeshift tiller/monitor steering device does well, again, in these calms, leaving the crew free to do boatwork and write crap like this. Bruce mended some of the teak cockpit seating. Greg continued his Ukelele studies. We should get to Koolan Island before the tide turns and hope to buy diesel and take on water in Dog Leg Creek and Silver Gull Creek respectively.

And we did…..

First we motored into Dog Leg Creek, just south of Koolan Island, where we found a somewhat bemused and isolated Kiwi living on a large rusted out old barge and selling fuel. It reminded me of those science fiction space movies where huge rusting structures float in the middle of nowhere. But it didn’t feel sinister and I couldn’t see Sigourney Weaver anywhere (a pity) so we approached with confidence.  As with the next “facility” there was as much rust as substance in the structure. Diesel was $3 a litre, but hugely easy to obtain in comparison with Broome, and worth taking on board. The lonely Kiwi seemed as if he didn’t know how he had got there, and didn’t know when he might be replaced, but was typically pleasant and humorous nonetheless.

Then back round the appropriately named Dog Leg and into Silver Gull Creek.

Marion and Phil had retired from sailing some fifteen or more years ago to create a very improbable camp at the head of this small and again twisty creek. They made a bushy but beautiful open-air home where BHP had put in some water tanks in the 1950’s. Needless to say, the tanks were well rusted! However they still contained the most beautiful tasting fresh water that continuously poured in and out of them. It never stops. One was now a swimming tank. Luxury! From inside the tank you could look out and down to the saltwater and mangroves (and crocodiles) to where “Anyway” was moored. Marion and Phil left last year. Now Shelley and Mal live there and welcome visitors. Shelley still sells some jewellery that Marion had made when she was there. We gingerly approached the fantastically rusted remaining structure that was once a dock (vertical steel like a skinny Giacommetti sculpture, but weaker) and filled the boat with that beautiful water from the pipe that was permanently running into the sea. Greg and Bruce bought T shirts and I became a 

member of the ‘Squatters Arms Boat Club”. This was a very enjoyable visit.

Then the fun stopped for a few days. I anticipated a pleasant sail past Cape Leveque and down to Broome, but it was not to be. We found ourselves constrained by oyster leases and reefs, forced out to the west of the Lacipede Islands (reefs) and battling 30kt headwinds and 3 to 4 metre waves. Instead of two days and one night we took three days and two nights, and even then had to approach Broome in the dark. Not a pleasant passage. And Broome is a very difficult place for keelboats. More on that later….. "