Wet and Windy….. in Jervis Bay

Day 24 in Jervis Bay. We’ve had a few challenging days over the past week. And by that I mean we’ve had rain and we’ve had wind. Not just a little bit. A lot. A lot of rain and a lot of wind (and no it wasn’t Matt). Sometimes together, and sometimes separately. Either way, it makes life difficult for us. I said it was going to be interesting when the weather turned bad, and that’s certainly one way to put it.

On a rainy day we basically have two options; remain inside the boat or put on a raincoat and go for a walk or to the shops. The cockpit has some cover (bimini and dodger) but they aren’t waterproof, and are there primarily for sun and wind protection. So the size of our boat shrinks substantially in the rain, as we can only be down below deck. However, if the water is calm and the boat is still, we don’t mind this too much. I can still move around the boat easily, can cook in the galley, and do yoga. We fairly happily spend our time reading, chatting to friends and listening to the radio. If we do decide to venture out, then yes, we do get wet, especially hopping into the wet tender and driving though the rain to the beach, but it hasn’t been getting too cold here, so it’s not so bad.

A windy day, however, is a different story. Wind chops the water up and sets the boat moving awkwardly. It’s difficult to move around the boat comfortably and safely. Preparing food is a challenge. Eating is a challenge. Going to the toilet is a challenge. So we tend not to move very much at all. It’s not much fun.

Yesterday was a particularly windy day, by far the windiest that we have experienced in our three weeks in the Bay. After eight days on a mooring at Vincentia (we were waiting on a part for the boat) and enduring some dreary wet and windy days there, we were pretty desperate for a change of scenery and so once we had the part we moved over to Hole in the Wall. Both our mothers were talking about the big front that was due to come over Melbourne, and were worried for us as well, however we reassured them that the forecast for Jervis Bay was only for 20 knot winds and dismissed their worries. Little did we know that their concerns would turn out to be correct!

During the morning the wind picked up significantly, so about lunchtime we decided to pack a bag with some snacks and head to the beach for a walk and a break from the pitching boat. There were some big waves during the trip over to the shore, but they were coming from behind us, so didn’t pose too much of a problem and we landed safely on the beach. Once on shore we felt the full force of the wind. These were definitely not 20 knot winds. It was hard work pushing into the wind, and we could feel sand stinging our legs as it whipped past us. Looking over at Cool Change, bucking and bouncing on the end of the mooring rope, I felt very happy and relieved to be standing on solid ground.

Luckily the sun was out and it was nice and warm when out of the wind. We sought refuge at Bristol Point campground, which had been closed and was deserted. Unfortunately, so had all its shower and toilet blocks. I was devastated to find out that there were to be no more sneaky hot showers for me! The next campsite along, Green Patch, was similarly empty and once we’d had a bit of a nap in the sun we thought we’d wander back to the boat so Matt could pop aboard and grab some books and some more snacks for us to while away the rest of the afternoon on shore.

Well, turns out that was easier said than done. By then, the wind must have been close to 40 knots and there were big waves pounding throughout the bay. I was quite concerned but Matt decided that he’d be right to go out to the yacht. It was hard going, with the wind constantly picking up the front of the little tender, and about two thirds of the way out to the boat, it flipped and capsized completely. Holy ####! Watching from the shore, I started stripping down to my bathers in case I needed to swim out to help. Meanwhile, Matt was trying to pull the boat back over, but to no avail. Then he remembered the technique we’d learned for righting an overturned life raft at the Sea Safety and Survival Course, and he climbed on top of the overturned boat, gave me a big wave to say that he was ok, and pulled on the rope to flip the boat back over. Textbook! Phew! With the tender now empty of water, but the motor flooded with salt water, he grabbed the oars and rowed back to shore.

And so there went that plan. We were going to have to spend the afternoon with just what we had with us. I was also now quite worried about how we were going to get out to the boat for the night. Would it even be possible? We threw a few alternative ideas and options around. We could walk into the closest town, Jervis Bay Village, about 7 km away, but we didn’t think the only shop there, the general store, would still be open, and there was no accommodation there that we knew of.

The forecast had the wind dying down about 9pm, so we decided to just wait for as long as we could and hopefully the water would calm down enough for us to make it back out there. To be honest, I was feeling quite concerned as our supplies only consisted of two towels, one light long-sleeved shirt, a torch, an apple and a muesli bar. Not a lot if we were to have to spend the night on the shore.

We spent the rest of the afternoon napping in the sun and taking a walk to Murrays Beach. Arriving back at Hole in the Wall, we huddled behind some bushes, wrapped in the two towels, watching the sun go down. The waves looked like they’d dropped down a bit (wishful thinking perhaps) so before the sun disappeared completely we decided to make our move. We packed everything into the backpack and secured it inside the tender. ‘We are going to get saturated,’ Matt said, ‘so we’ve got to make it to the boat, we can’t come back to shore.’ Taking a deep breath and nodding, we pushed the boat out past the breakers and clambered in.

The waves were intense, and threatening to flip the boat like before, so I had to lean my weight right over the front, hanging on and closing my eyes as I was smashed in the face by waves and Matt steered from the back. My teeth were chattering, partly from nerves and partly from being wet and chilled by the wind. Even still, it was funny at first, but soon the little tender began filling up with water and we were in danger of sinking. ‘If we start to sink, just jump in and swim,’ yelled Matt. We were almost there when the motor cut out. I was leaning out the front, with Cool Change rearing a metre or so above as she rode the waves and I stretched out, touching the yacht, but unfortunately there was nothing to grab onto and she moved away before I had a secure hold.

Clutching the rope attached to the tender, I jumped into the water and tried to swim the rope to the boat so I could attach it to the cleat. Unfortunately the waves were pulling us one way, while Cool Change swung in the opposite direction. Matt grabbed the oars and began rowing while I swam in front, yelling directions as he was facing backwards and couldn’t see. So many times we got to within an arms length before Cool Change lurched away. ‘We’re close,’ I was yelling,’keep rowing.’ And then finally I was able to grab onto the yacht as the stern came crashing down into the water in front of me. Hastily wrapping the rope around the cleat, I secured the tender to the yacht. Using all my core and upper body strength, I heaved myself up onto the back of the boat and pulled Matt and the flooded tender in. Matt grabbed a container from the cockpit and jumped back in to the tender to start bailing out the water.

A huge sense of relief that we had made it flooded through me, and I was really proud of our teamwork and our effort. As I sat there holding onto the rope while Matt bailed, the strut holding the seat up at the stern failed, and the seat crashed onto my head. I cried out in surprise and pain. Then I must have touched my head, because I looked down at my hands to find a fair bit of blood.

I think I went into a bit of shock, Matt came back onto the boat, checked the wound, which thankfully was minor, but was bleeding a bit as scalp wounds do. I was pretty cold by then and my hands and feet were turning numb. I got out of my wet clothes, dried off, lay down on the couch and tried to warm up. Matt gave me a dressing to stem the blood and made me a hot chocolate, putting his first aid training to good use. After satisfying himself that the tender was safe from sinking and double checking that the mooring lines were ok, Matt declared that the only damage we seemed to have suffered was the loss of his beloved hammock and the bump to my head.

And all’s well that ends well. The wind died off about midnight and we had a good night’s sleep. In the morning, after briefly but unsuccessfully scouring the area for the hammock, we moved over to Huskisson which promised to have better conditions. And although it’s still been a bit windy today, the water has been relatively flat, the sun has come out and we dried off all our wet gear.

I realise that this has turned into quite a long story. It sure was quite the experience for us and I wanted to get our adventure down on paper while it was still fresh in my mind. There’s a lot of take-aways and learnings for us. While I was never scared for our safety, as the waves were within my swimming ability, the water was pretty warm and I felt comfortable while in the water, I recognise that if a scenario like that had happened in a different location or set of circumstances then it may not have ended so well. But this time it did, so we’ll just leave it there for now.

I’m going to leave the Hike/Bike Camping photos for another time, as if you’ve read this far, you’re probably done now! I hope everyone is staying safe and sane. Virtual hugs to all.

Be the reason someone smiles today.

Roy T Bennett