Back on the Boat and Bound for Tassie

Well, here we are again. Standing on Cool Change, waving farewell to our families and preparing to set sail on another adventure.

But the feeling is somewhat different this time than in 2020. Instead of heading out into the great unknown, uncertain and unsure, this time we had two and a half years and over 8000 nautical miles of experience behind us.

It felt comfortable. It felt right. It felt like home.

We were ready to leave Melbourne. Although we were sad to wave goodbye to our families and friends, the last nine months, and especially the bitterly cold winter, had confirmed to us that Victoria was not the place for us to be.

We were setting sail for Tasmania, but our ultimate destination would be Cairns. Several months ago we’d purchased a house in Palm Cove and with all our worldly belongings either packed into boxes at Matt’s Mum and Dad’s house, in storage at my Mum’s or on the yacht, this departure meant saying ‘see ya later’ to Melbourne.

I knew it was just a short 3.5 hour flight between cities, and I knew I’d be back to visit, and I hoped that our families and friends would fly north to visit us, but I still found myself a bit emotional as we bade farewell to Matt’s parents, my Mum and my sister and pulled out of our berth.

But we weren’t to dwell on that for long, because on this trip we had some crew along for the ride. Our friend Harj, and his son Dylan, aged seven. And their overriding emotion was excitement. Matt and I were both looking forward to sharing the cruising experience with them and their excitement was catching.

And so on 17th January 2023, coincidentally nine months to the day since we returned, we set off.

Light winds and flat seas greeted us as motored out of the marina and through Westernport Bay. We were all up top, chatting away and enjoying the ride. But as we edged out of the bay and began rounding Seal Rocks, conditions began to change. There was some swell rolling through and the seas were a bit confused. The motion of the boat became quite uncomfortable. After nine months spent on land, my body was protesting vigorously at this turn of events and I felt yuck. While Matt was as unaffected as usual, Dylan and Harj were also feeling it. We played games with Dylan to distract him, and it was with some relief that we anchored in the sheltered waters of Cleeland Bight, in between Cape Woolami and San Remo.

It was bumpy on and off in the anchorage but not unbearable. Rain showers passed overhead and baby seals played around the back of the boat. Our original plan had been to stay here for the night and then head off early the next morning on the long sail down to Refuge Cove at Wilsons Prom. But the weather forecasts were changing rapidly. Each time we reviewed our wind app, we were dismayed to see stronger and stronger winds forecast, and predicted to come through earlier and earlier. We were quite concerned. The forecast now showed strong winds throughout much of our route, with gusts over 40 knots predicted when we would be rounding the tip of the Prom. These were not conditions we would want to be out in, let alone with guests onboard and a young child to boot.

Matt agonised over the forecasts, checking each new update, but we were pretty sure we needed to wait at least another day before heading off. After explaining our reasoning to Harj and Dylan, we all went to bed, and when Matt got up at 5am to check the latest report, our decision was confirmed. ‘Definitely staying put,’ he said, as he crawled back into bed.

And so it was that we found ourselves with a free day on Phillip Island. After a delicious brunch of eggs and beans cooked by Chef Harj, Matt ferried Dylan, Harj and I to shore. The grey clouds and misty rain gave a moody feeling to the day as we set off on the Cape Woolamai Circuit walk.

And what a walk it turned out to be. We soaked up the incredible views, savoured the feeling of using our legs and stumbled across heaps of wildlife. We saw wallabies, Cape Barren geese, a red-bellied black snake, a blue-tongued lizard and a very active echidna who wasn’t in the least bothered by our presence.

Some of the animals we came across on the hike:

We walked back along the beach to meet Matt. He had enjoyed a quiet afternoon on the boat and been checking the upcoming weather. Looks ok to sail tomorrow. Harj and Dylan were rejuvenated from their day on land. They were happy to continue the trip. (This was the spot we’d identified as an out for Dylan if required. His Mum, Shelley, was on standby to pick him up if he didn’t want to continue further.) It had worked out for the best, we all agreed. A day on land to reset was just what our budding sailor needed.

But when we returned to the boat we found it rocking. Uh-oh. Identifying another spot that might be calmer, we moved and had comfortable conditions for our dinner. Matt talked us through the following day’s sail. It was a long one, probably the longest of the whole trip. It would probably also be the hardest, but once we made it there, things should get easier, he promised. It won’t be champagne sailing, but it shouldn’t be too bad. Shouldn’t be too bad. Famous last words.

Up before the alarm, we were ready and pulling anchor at 6.30 am. All four of us were in the cockpit, warmly rugged up, as we motored out of Cleeland Bight. The seas that greeted us were not what we had been hoping for. It was pretty rough and very lumpy. So frustrating. We smashed our way out into the open seas. A rogue wave swept over the stern, drenching Matt and stealing our life ring. Oops! Even though we knew that the conditions should improve as the day progressed, we second guessed ourselves, worried about Dylan. Should we continue?

We should, we decided. The boat is more than capable (this was nothing compared to the west coast!) and we were confident that conditions would improve. But it would mostly be up to Matt to sail the boat. I felt sick, so took a pill and slept for the morning. Thankfully the winds did eventually lighten and the seas calmed. Matt was able to go below for a nap, and although Harj and Dylan had both been sick, by the time we were approaching Skull Rock and the islands surrounding the tip of the Prom, they were able to enjoy the spectacular scenery.

Calm waters on the eastern side of the Prom made the last few hours enjoyable as we motored up to the sanctuary of Refuge Cove. And what a sanctuary it was. Absolutely beautiful with lovely calm and flat water. We anchored the boat and then congratulated our crew. What a marathon sail we had had. 13 hours. Dylan had been amazing, we were all so proud of him. Although he had clearly felt average, not a word of complaint had escaped from him. He had just endured.

With the boat finally still, everyone recovered and we had leftover spag bol and sausages for dinner. We all sat, taking in the beauty of this incredible place. We would have a rest day tomorrow and go exploring onshore.

After a well deserved sleep in and our signature eggy bread for brunch we headed for shore. It was a beautiful, sunny day. We walked up to Telecom Rock for phone reception and a birds eye view of Cool Change below and then up to Kersop Peak for more stunning views.

What a gorgeous day!! What a gorgeous place!! We all felt re-energised and re-vitalised. Such a privilege to be in such a special and remote place.

Back on the boat, Harj and Dylan went snorkelling. It was way too cold for me! I made hot chocolates to warm them up when they returned.

It was early to bed that night, with the boat prepped for another passage. But we were a lot more confident about the weather forecast. The worst was behind us. Deal Island here we come!!

You never know how strong you are, until being strong is your only choice.

Bob Marley