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

We have been in Jervis Bay for two and a half weeks now. About two weeks ago, we did a twilight/night walk starting from Hole in the Wall where Cool Change was moored and around the Munyungawaraga Dhugan trail to Governor Head. The walk winds through some beautiful bushland filled with scribbly gums, and then climbs up to the clifftops for expansive views along the coastline and out to the ocean. At Governor Head there are clear views across to Point Perpendicular and the lighthouse there (at the entrance to Jervis Bay) and also views across to Bowen Island.

Bowen Island is home to a large population of little (fairy) penguins, so we had hoped that by doing the hike at twilight that we might be able to spot some of the little guys. Unfortunately, the viewpoint across to the island was too high and we couldn’t see anything. We walked back via Murrays Beach, scrambling over rocks in the descending darkness. Luckily it was low tide, so we were able to make it around the beaches and the rocks all the way back. We came across a few kangaroos down near the water; I’m not sure who was more startled when I nearly charged straight into a couple after rounding a corner in the dark – me or the kangas!

As it was a clear and dark night, Matt stopped at several spots along the way back to experiment with some star and light effect photography. He got very creative! Here are some of his best shots:

Pretty cool, huh! I hope everyone is staying safe and sane in these challenging times. Stay tuned for more photos. I’ll post some of our hike/bike camping trip and the different beaches we visited soon.

You can’t stop the waves, but you can learn to surf.

Joseph Goldstein

Well, we are still here in Jervis Bay …….. and with no plans of moving on at this stage unfortunately. How quickly things are changing at the moment; every day it seems there is a new update, and a new set of guidelines and restrictions. The recent call to stop all non-essential domestic travel, and then the closing of some borders (particularly Queensland) has led us to believe that we are best to stay put for the present time. And let’s face it, Jervis Bay is not the worst place in the world to be temporarily waylaid.

So let me introduce you to Jervis Bay, for those who haven’t been to this beautiful little part of the country. Situated on the south coast of NSW, Jervis Bay is a small bay which has been designated a Marine Park in its entirety. It is also home to HMAS Creswell Naval Base, so there are navy vessels, helicopters and a submarine floating around. The tourist brochures describe Jervis Bay as being world famous for its white-sand beaches, calm turquoise waters and pristine national parks. And on a good day they are right!!

Here are some photos to prove that:

Beautiful beaches and crystal clear water is all very well, I hear you say, but what about food and supplies? How are you going to do your shopping? Luckily, Jervis Bay is surrounded by several different small towns; Jervis Bay Village, Vincentia, Huskisson, Callala Bay and Currarong. Most of the towns have a small supermarket, petrol station, bottle shop and cafes, and there are larger Coles and Woolworths supermarkets in Vincentia. Huskisson is by far the largest town with many cafes, restaurants, a pub, and even a tiny movie theatre. So we have lots of different options for shopping.

We also have lots of different options for mooring or anchoring Cool Change, depending on the weather and wind direction, and which town we intend to visit. Public moorings are available at Callala Bay, Huskisson, Vincentia and Hole in the Wall (beach at the southern end near Scottish Rocks). We are able to anchor at Long Beach and Bindijine Beach. Fortunately, all these options are free, it is just a ‘first in, best dressed’ scenario for the public moorings. We have at times jumped onto a private mooring for a brief period when needed, always leaving one of us on board in case we need to move in a hurry!

As you can see on the map, there are lots of National Parks surrounding the bay, with ample opportunities for us to go hiking, biking, running and even camping. We can swim, snorkel, fish, go stand-up paddle boarding or surfing. We can even attempt to swim with the resident pod of dolphins in the bay. Minimal success so far on that one!

So we feel that if we can’t continue our circumnavigation at this stage, then Jervis Bay is not such a bad place to hang out. Better than the busier cities of Wollongong or Sydney anyway. This is social distancing at its best. We plan to just float around the bay, until we are told we can move on. Whenever that may be…….

However idyllic this all sounds though, our Jervis Bay experiences haven’t all been smooth sailing…..pun intended. When we first arrived in Jervis Bay we made our way to Huskisson and onto one of the public moorings. This was where we were going to catch the bus to Nowra, to the sail repair shop, Revolution Sails. Yep, remember that we ripped our sail, so much has happened since then, it seems so long ago! Anyway, we lugged our sail onto the bus and then up the highway from the bus stop to the shop. Well, I say we, but I must admit Matt did most of the lugging! It was a very hot day and the sail was very heavy, so he got quite a workout. To our relief, Adrian from Revolution Sails kindly offered to drop the sail and new battens back to Huskisson when the repairs were completed. As this was Friday, we had several days to kill in Huskisson until the sail would be ready on Monday or Tuesday.

After missing the early bus from Nowra, and having to kill several hours in a drab, boring industrial area, we were both hot and tired when we finally made it back to Huskisson and out to our yacht. The weather had changed, a storm was brewing and it was a choppy ride in the tender out to Cool Change, who was rolling ominously in the swell. The rolling didn’t ease up, and not feeling all that well, I went straight to bed without dinner.

Well, the rolling still didn’t ease up overnight, not one bit. The boat was rocking and rolling, pitching and heaving, bouncing and banging, all night long. Neither of us got much sleep. In the morning it took several attempts and a seasickness pill for me to be able to stand up. No morning coffee on the boat for us. We prepared ourselves to leave the boat for the day and to wait it out on shore. It was forecast to rain for much of the day, so we decided we’d check out the maritime museum and go to the movies.

Coincidentally, my friends Liz and Bern were competing in a 24 hour multi-sport event in Jervis Bay that weekend. Yep, you heard right, 24 hours, these guys are hardcore. And because of the weather and the state of the bay, their first kayak leg was cancelled. It was lovely to bump into them and be able to wish them luck, if only briefly. I wished them well, not even feeling slightly envious of the challenge ahead of them; I must be getting lazy!

We survived that day, and the next one, filling it in with a long walk along the beaches to Plantation Point and back, and by cooking both brunch and dinner on the BBQs in the nearby park. But after three nights of the non-stop rocking and rolling, pitching and heaving, bouncing and banging, both of us were out of sorts, and we called it a day. We motored out to Vincentia, only to find the swell just as bad, so then continued into the moorings at Hole in the Wall where we found some lovely calm water. Bliss. A good night’s sleep was finally had.

Then the sun came out. And Jervis Bay finally showed us what those brochures were talking about! We ran the watermaker to fill our empty water tanks, re-installed the repaired sail, researched hikes and made plans for the following days. Since then we’ve done a twilight/night hike, overnight hike and bike camping trip, explored many different beaches, been out on the stand-up paddle board, found somewhere to have a free hot shower, and attempted to swim with dolphins. While this all sounds very active, we’ve also had a lot of downtime on the boat; practising yoga (me), reading the news (Matt), listening to the radio, baking and cooking, and working on blogs and photos. There’s been a couple of days when we haven’t even left the boat.

It seems that this may be our home for the foreseeable future… we are now Jervis Bay locals. We are hoping we can continue to have this same amount of freedom to roam about the bay, but who knows what will happen? While the weather is fair and the water is calm and flat, I am quite happy. How we will cope if it is raining and the water is rough and the boat is rocking and rolling, and we have nowhere to escape to, I don’t know. There are no cafes, museums, pubs or movie theatres open for us to get out of the weather and wait it out. It will be interesting.

And while we may wish that we were up in the Whitsundays when all this happened, and were stranded up there instead, we do acknowledge that we are pretty lucky and in quite a fortunate position. Our thoughts are with those who have lost their jobs or had to close their businesses. We hope everyone is coping ok and looking after themselves. Keep up that social distancing, but keep connecting with others. We are here for a chat anytime. Call, email, message. We’d love to hear from you.

I’m going to leave you with some photos of a couple of gorgeous sunsets that we’ve experienced here in Jervis Bay. Stay positive and seek the beautiful in the everyday.

You may not be able to control every situation and its outcome, but you can control your attitude and how you react.

Matt’s birthday is Saturday 7th March – the day we planned our second attempt to leave Narooma. As I mentioned in the last blog post, on the Friday, when we were to leave originally, the conditions in the bar were too dangerous and so we postponed our departure. But on the morning of Matt’s birthday we woke up before our 6.30am alarm and went over to visually scope out the bar; and it was good news! Relatively flat and calm water. We were good to go! We raced back to the yacht and prepared to leave, stowing the tender on the deck. Breathing a big sigh of relief, we motored uneventfully and safely through the bar at 7.15am right before high tide.

Matt was very keen to head back to Montague Island, to see if he could catch himself a kingfish and then to swim with those pesky seals. Unfortunately, on reaching the island we found the water to be very choppy and swelly; quite uncomfortable. Undeterred, Matt set out his lines, our 43 foot yacht bobbing about and drifting amongst a fleet of little fishing boats. Spot the odd man out!

Unfortunately, it was not his day, and although he pulled up a few little fish, the mighty kingfish proved elusive. When there was no bait left, and the water deemed too choppy to be able to swim with the seals, we set our sails and headed north. A strong southerly wind pushed us north at a good pace, and we sailed all the way to Moruya. The swell picked up and soon we were riding three metre waves, with the occasional four metre wave thrown in for fun. It’s quite something to see a huge wall of water approaching the boat, but thankfully Cool Change handled it with ease, and I was remarkably ok with it!

We made such good time that we had to sail around in a holding pattern as we arrived substantially earlier than our 5pm to 6pm window for crossing the bar into the Moruya River. Moruya River also has a potentially hazardous bar and so we needed to time our entry carefully and precisely. When we did eventually motor through, there were waves breaking to the side of the entrance and even a surfer sitting out amongst the waves. That’s not something you see every day; a surfer in a bar entrance! So it was with some trepidation that we motored carefully into the bar and navigated our way through into the river. But it was all good! We had thought that we might be able to make it a fair way down the river, close to the town of Moruya, however, upon hitting the bottom several times we discovered that the river was not as deep as we had been led to believe. We eventually settled for anchoring in the deepest part of the river we could find, which was unfortunately quite far from the town, so that derailed our plans of a Pub dinner. While Matt chucked a line in, I pulled out the last of the Shepherd’s Pie from the freezer (thanks Mum). Paired with the last bottle of Shiraz that I’d saved for this very occasion, we celebrated Matt’s birthday. Oh, and he did catch a little fish! Happy Birthday Matt!

Unfortunately, during our sail to Moruya we managed to put a couple of small tears in the sail. Thinking that we might be able to do a temporary repair, we pulled the sail down to have a closer look. In doing so, we managed to damage all five battens in the sail. Yes, that’s right, all five! We stupidly pulled the sail around onto the front deck and in doing so either outright snapped or twisted all the battens. What we should have done was drop the sail down to the side of the boat. But we didn’t. You live and learn, I guess. We sure are doing a lot of learning!

After some creative problem solving we figured out that we weren’t going to be able to salvage any of the battens, and Matt found a guy in Jervis Bay (our next stop) who was able to order in the correct replacements within the week, as well as carry out some repairs to the sail. So we decided we might as well spend a few extra days in Moruya, before heading to Jervis Bay.

Moruya River is a very peaceful, quiet and pretty place. Here are some photos from our anchorage:

We had some pretty quiet and low key days here, just relaxing, as well as doing necessary jobs; Matt ran the generator to replenish our severely depleted house batteries (all those cloudy and rainy days), while I took the tender into town to do grocery shopping and laundry.

We did venture out one day to the neighbouring town of Broulee and Broulee Island. Broulee Island is connected to the mainland by a permanent sandbar and was touted as having some of the best snorkelling around, so we packed a bag with snorkel gear and towels and headed off. A local guy that we met at the Moruya boat ramp offered us a lift to Broulee Island, which cut 8 kilometres off our walk, so we accepted gratefully. It was a lovely warm and sunny day, and while the beaches on Broulee Island were all very pretty, unfortunately the water was extremely dirty with terrible visibility. We did try several snorkelling spots, but found the water to be just as filthy in both. Quite disappointing. However it was still a beautiful day and the long walk back along the gorgeous beaches gave us our exercise for the day, about 15 kilometres all up.

One night we saw the full moon rising up from the horizon:

We decided to jump in the tender and head to the beach to take some photos of the moon and stars. Unfortunately, the moon was so bright and it was quite cloudy, so we didn’t get the effect we were after, but Matt played around with a few different effects on his camera:

On our way back to Cool Change we noticed that the wake of the tender was glowing. Yep, glow in the dark water! The glow is due to the bioluminescence of some marine organisms and is super cool! We first noticed bioluminescence when flushing the toilet at night, tiny glowing spots in the water, and then we saw some in the wake of the tender at Narooma but not as strong as this. This bioluminescence was a really vibrant blue. The photos give you an idea, but don’t really capture the full effect. We were both pretty amazed, and hooned around for a bit to watch the glowing water.

As I write this we are in Jervis Bay. We left Moruya safely on 12th March and were tied up securely to a mooring in Jervis Bay by 1.15am the following morning. We have been exploring the Jervis Bay area for just over a week now, and during that short time the coronavirus situation has really escalated. Only a week or so ago, when we were talking to locals it was all about the impacts of the bushfires, and now it is nothing but ‘corona.’

At the moment we are in a pretty ok situation, probably better than most. Social distancing isn’t too hard for us as we aren’t seeing too many other people! Most of the activities we are wanting to do; hiking, cycling, swimming, snorkelling etcetera are outside, and we have a pretty self-sufficient boat that is quite well stocked with a range of food. We feel quite fortunate.

Our thoughts are with all our friends and family, hoping that they are coping ok in this strange time. We listen to the news most days, but it is hard to imagine the reality and the hype and hysteria that we are hearing about. We don’t know what we will find as we head further north towards Sydney, and how the rapidly changing coronavirus situation will affect us. We can only take it one day at a time.

Look after yourselves, dear readers, be kind to one another and stay safe. I’ll share our Jervis Bay adventures in the next post. It’s a very beautiful little place!

We left Bermagui on a calm day with almost no wind and so we motored the entire way to Narooma, taking about three and a half hours. Just as with the Lakes Entrance Bar, we had a specific time that we were aiming to cross the bar at Narooma; high water, on an incoming tide. The Narooma Bar is also very notorious, often described as the most dangerous bar in New South Wales. Thankfully, with such calm conditions, the bar waters were flat and we motored through uneventfully. However, as I write this, almost two weeks later, a tragic accident has just occurred where a five metre boat manned by locals overturned while attempting to cross the bar and both passengers drowned. A tragic accident and very much a sobering reminder for us about the need for constant caution.

Our first impression of Narooma was of a spectacularly pretty little town, and we weren’t disappointed in the nine days that we stayed there. We anchored Cool Change in the crystal clear waters of Wagonga Inlet, swapping over to a heavier sand anchor. We did try to put out a stern anchor too, but that was a spectacular fail, and a most interesting exercise in retrieving it. We still have some techniques to learn!

To Matt’s delight, immediately upon arriving, we spotted numerous stingrays swimming around the boat as well as a seal who popped up to say hello. These guys were to be frequent visitors around the boat over the next week or so. Matt jumped into the water to swim with the stingrays and filmed some good footage on the GoPro. By the time I hopped in later, the tide had turned and was running out strongly – it was like swimming on the spot in an infinity pool!

But our main reason for coming to Narooma was to go fishing. Whilst Matt is a very enthusiastic fisherman, he is not an overly successful one. In Narooma we were to meet Matt’s Uncle Geoff and his mate Bernard, both very keen and very experienced fishermen, who had promised to take us out fishing for kingfish. And unlike most of our attempts, they were promising a high degree of success. However, Matt believes that all fisherman’s tales should be treated with a large degree of scepticism, particularly when coming from his Uncle Geoffrey. And so, he was not overly optimistic about our chances.

But, in this instance, Geoff was right and Bernard sure did know his stuff. Within minutes of our first drop, just out from Montague Island, we had a fish on the line. And that first day we pulled in kingfish after kingfish. Bernard and Geoff taught us the correct techniques, including how to let the boat drift over the target area, and very generously let Matt and I reel in most of the fish. It was very exciting! When we had six keepers, we moved location and went fishing for flathead. Once again, success, and we caught seven good sized flatties to take home. What a day!

Our first day’s haul: we actually took home six kingfish and seven flathead (I just forgot to take the photo before Bernard started cleaning the fish!).

The second day that Bernard and Geoff took us out we began by first catching live bait, little yakka fish. This required a very different technique and lightning quick reflexes. Bernard was hauling them up into the live bait tank while the rest of us weren’t having much luck at all. I did manage to catch one little yakka, but other than that it was all Bernard. Obviously practice makes perfect!

Out in the deeper water, Geoff and Bernard taught Matt how to skewer the yakka onto the hook without damaging it’s spine so it could still swim. I still struggle with baiting wriggling worms, so I’m not there yet. Dead bait for me, please. But the live yakka were obviously very attractive to the kingfish because we pretty quickly caught five fish. Although all five were undersize, pulling up each and every one was still totally thrilling for both of us. And then Matt caught his biggest fish to date – an 85 centimetre kingy. He had to work very hard for it and describes not having had a forearm pump such as that since his motorcross days (it was a left handed reel, obviously).

The third day that we went out to Montague Island was quite a different type of fishing day. Right from the first drop we had a seal at the back of our boat. Bad news, said Geoff and Bernard, shaking their heads. But up until that point, seals were cute and interesting and a novelty for us. We were about to find out exactly why fishermen think of them as pests.

We had plenty of bites and lots of hook-ups, but almost every time we had a fish on the line and were frantically reeling it in, a seal would come along and grab it, flinging it around to get it off the hook. It became a competition between fisherman and seal, and not a very fair contest as it turns out. We lost umpteen fish to the seals, including a ‘monster’ (or so Matt claims!). I kept being told not to fish like a girl, but I was no match for those seals. Matt and Bernard did manage to pull in a good sized fish each, beating the seals, but the boat was so chaotic that I didn’t manage to capture any photos.

Here are some photos of the seals, taken after our first fishing session. There is a large population of Fur Seals that call Montague Island home and it is possible to swim and snorkel with them, as several tourist boats do. Matt was very keen to swim with the seals on our last day, but unfortunately the water was too choppy.

After pulling Bernard’s boat out at the boat ramp, we would take the day’s catch to the cleaning table where Bernard would clean and fillet the fish. There was always a large assortment of animals on hand, vying for the offcuts that would inevitably be thrown their way. The seals were incredibly bold, coming up very close to us and had Bernard shaking his filleting knife at them to scare them away. Each time Bernard threw a de-filleted fish or some guts into the air, there would be an awesome flapping of wings and much pushing and shoving by the pelicans and cormorants. Depending on how far away the delicacy was thrown, often it was a seal who would emerge the victor.

Bernard and his wife, Arlene, were incredibly kind and generous hosts, having us over to both their house and their boatshed for countless dinners and lunches, as well as driving to pick us up and drop us off at the boat. I also had a couple of hot showers in a real bathroom at their house, with real towels and a bathmat – total luxury! We spent some lovely afternoons and evenings with Geoff, Bernard and Arlene, eating delicious food, drinking wine and hearing about their fishing adventures of old times, including the incredibly huge kingfish that Arlene caught (and the photo to prove it – just amazing!). We have now had kingfish raw (sashimi), grilled, crumbed and in a curry. It sure is a delicious fish. The ‘chicken of the ocean’ as my brother-in-law Michael, describes it. Thanks to the generosity of Bernard and Arlene, we still have several meals worth of vacuum packed kingfish in our freezer.

Bernard and Arlene have a delightful little boatshed on the edge of the Wagonga Inlet. It is a beautiful, peaceful place to hang out and relax. Matt and I brought our stand-up paddleboards to the boatshed and I think we may have convinced Arlene to buy one. They’re not bad for a blow up SUP purchased from eBay!

For the first six days we were in Narooma, the weather was absolutely lovely, warm and sunny. We did some touristy stuff; cycling around town for a day and visiting Glasshouse Rocks, the local surf beach and Australia Rock, as well as riding out to Dalmeny and enjoying the beautiful coastline along the way. We also joined a local swimming group ‘The Mullets’ who swam right past our boat on their two kilometre swim. Three times a week they meet, and depending on which way the tide is flowing, they plan their route (I’ll give you a hint – it’s with the current!). They were all very friendly and welcoming and invited us to join them anytime.

Then after such lovely weather, it rained for two days straight. On the first rainy day, knowing that the rain was coming, Arlene and I planned a girly day. I had such a lovely time hanging out with Arlene, and meeting both her and Jordy in Bermagui, made me realise how much I miss my girlfriends and ‘girly’ time. Fortunately, Arlene and I have similar interests and so we planned the perfect rainy day schedule. We went to a yoga class at the gorgeous Half Moon Yoga studio, had coffee and cake (gluten free, of course) at Bound to Earth Espresso Bar and then went to see a movie at the Narooma Kinema. The kinema is a gorgeous old heritage listed building, and has been showing films and live performances since 1928. While we were there, we booked tickets for the Narooma film society screening of ‘The Peanut Butter Falcon’ for the following night. I had been recommended the movie by a friend, and was really looking forward to seeing it. Arlene and Bernard were also keen, and so we dragged Matt along too (Geoff had returned to Melbourne that day). It was a beautiful movie, uplifting and inspiring, and I highly recommend it.

The unique frontage of the Narooma Kinema, and an ad for the film:

The day after the movie was when we had originally been planning to leave Narooma, however, on checking out the bar conditions that morning we vetoed that plan immediately. There was huge swell and the water was very choppy, with waves breaking right near the entrance/exit. No go! Instead, we let Bernard and Arlene know that we hadn’t made it out and Bernard took Matt fishing for garfish at nearby Mummaga Lake while Arlene and I went for a long walk around town. They hadn’t quite got rid of us yet!!

Fortunately, we did get out safely the following day, but that’s a story for the next blog.

We’d like to say a huge thank you to Geoff, Bernard and Arlene for all their kindness, generosity and hospitality. Thanks for taking us out fishing, driving us around, feeding us and for the excellent company. We both had a wonderful time, learnt a lot and left Narooma feeling very inspired.

We spent a delightful seven days in Bermagui, a beautiful little town, with plenty to see and do. With Cool Change berthed at The Fishermen’s Wharf, we had easy access to hot showers and laundry facilities, as well as leaving our bikes on the shore, so we had ‘wheels’ as well.

Over the week we explored many of the local sights, as well as venturing out to some neighboring towns. Local attractions included Camel Rock and Horsehead Rock, Wallaga Lake, the Montreal Goldfields, Camel Rock Brewery, and The Blue Pool. My favourite was the gorgeous Blue Pool, a clean and crystal clear ocean pool that we swam in several times.

Clocking up the kilometres on the mountain bikes, we cycled to the inland towns of Tilba Tilba and Central Tilba. Lush and green, it was lovely to see the countryside in such good shape. At Tilba Tilba we ate delicious crepes at the French Cafe, La Galette and then we wandered up and down the old style tourist town that is Central Tilba.

Unfortunately the mountain bike trails in Bermagui that Matt had been hoping to ride were badly affected by the bushfires. However, we discovered that Tathra, a picturesque coastal town about 45 km south of Bermagui, has some of the state’s best mountain bike trails. But how to get there? There is no bus from Bermagui to Tathra but there is a bus to Bega. We figured that if we were able to catch the once a day bus to Bega (at the unsociable hour of 6.05am), we could then cycle to Tathra and then cycle directly back to Bermagui from Tathra. The bus would cut 30 kms off the journey, and although it would still be a massive day of riding, we thought we were up for the challenge.

However, at the yoga class I attended on Saturday morning, I met the lovely Jordan who was the class instructor. Chatting to Jordan before the class, I told her about our sailing trip and mentioned some of our plans while in town. I thoroughly enjoyed the yoga class (it was great to have some direction after just pottering away by myself) and thanked Jordy afterwards. Out of nowhere, she offered to drive us to Bega one weekday as she commutes there for work and thought she could fit two bikes in the back of her Forrester. I was blown away by her generosity and gratefully accepted.

And so that is how we found ourselves in a car heading to Bega (the first trip in a car for Matt in over 5 weeks). Jordy was excellent company and we chatted the whole way, learning about the local area and hearing firsthand about the bushfires from a local’s perspective. To our delight, Jordy also offered to pick us up in Tathra at the end of the day and drive back to Bermagui by the more scenic coastal route. Again, we were blown away by her kindness and generosity.

And so, after briefly visiting the famous Bega Cheese Factory, we headed off to Tathra. For most of the 18 km cycle we were riding our mountain bikes on the side of the main road, with little to no verge at times, heart in mouth kinda stuff. You can imagine our relief when we saw the brand new (still under construction) bike trail 5 km out from Tathra. And then you can imagine our disappointment when it ended after just 300 metres!

Nevertheless, we made it safely to Tathra, a very pretty, if hilly, little town. Matt set off to the mountain bike park while I searched the shops for a cheap towel as it was a hot day and the beach beckoned. The water was surprisingly cold but very refreshing and I had a lovely relaxing afternoon. Matt was pretty wrecked after his 3 hours on the bike trails and admitted that he didn’t think he would have made it all the way back to Bermagui (this being the day after the 38 km Tilba cycle). Thank goodness for Jordan, she really was a lifesaver and we were both so grateful.

We had a couple of quiet, chilled out days in Bermagui after this; reading, napping, swimming and doing jobs like cleaning the boat, changing the bedsheets and doing loads of laundry. Boring, yes, but still important jobs to be done, and somehow strangely satisfying. Matt also spent a leisurely afternoon polishing off several bottles of red wine with an old salty he’d met, listening to his riveting and larger than life tales.

One evening we invited Jordy and her partner Nico to the boat for dinner. We wanted to say thank you and thought a dinner party on a yacht might be a novelty! They were both fascinated by the boat and interested in checking it all out. Jordy and Nico were great company and it was lovely to have some different people to chat to. Thanks for coming guys!

And so our stay in beautiful Bermagui came to an end and we prepared to make the relatively short passage to Narooma where we were meeting Matt’s Uncle Geoff and his mate Bernard. These guys were going to take us fishing for kingfish – and apparently they actually know how to fish! Stay tuned!

Following are some photos of the sights and highlights of our time in Bermagui:

Dolphins rode the bow wave as sailed to Bermagui.

Matt fishing from the bow of Cool Change, berthed in The Fishermen’s Wharf, Bermagui

Yellowfin tuna caught by the professionals at the Fisherman’s Wharf, Bermagui.

The Humungous Marlin (caught by some guys in a small fishing boat who tied up near us).

The Blue Pool

Camel Rock

Horsehead Rock

Montreal Goldfields

Tilba Tilba and Central Tilba

Tathra (Beach and Wharf)

Emu (we came across this guy on one of our cycles).

Yes, we made it, the passage from Lakes Entrance to Eden, more than 120 nautical miles, took us 25 hours and we tied up at Eden Jetty at 8.20 am on 13th February with a sense of satisfaction and a sigh of relief. One of the potentially more challenging parts of the trip was behind us. From now on we should be able to day hop up most of the East Coast.

We had fairly light winds and a pretty calm sea state throughout the journey, and sailed whenever possible, although turned on the motor when needed to keep us moving at a decent pace. I took my trusty seasickness pills Stugeron (big thanks to my drug dealer Di, for keeping me well supplied). Our individual overnight shifts went well. I had the genius idea to call my overseas friends; Tania in Spain and Aine in Ireland – and as it turns out the middle of the night here is the perfect time for a call, they were both free and so we had some lovely, long overdue chats and my night shift flew by. Thanks ladies!

Some light but persistent rain moved in overnight and we entered Twofold Bay in Eden with a thick and heavy fog surrounding us. A large pod of dolphins came out to say Hi and swam with us for a while. It was a lovely welcome into the bay.

We tied up to the famous Eden Jetty in Snug Cove and Matt went off to chat to the Harbour Master. He warned us about some heavy weather that was predicted for the weekend, particularly concerning was the forecast for a three metre swell, and suggested that we move onto a mooring buoy further out in the bay, as the boat would likely get battered around and knocked against the jetty if we elected to stay there. An added bonus was that the mooring was free!

It was back into our trusty tender to take us into shore. Here’s Matt driving the tender.

After a nap, hot showers and fish and chips were the order of the day. Delicious! The following day we walked into town and explored Eden. Following the Maritime Heritage Trail alongside Aslings Beach, we came upon a lovely little rock pool at the end of the beach. Unfortunately the water was very murky, with still a lot of ash and debris in the water from the recent bushfires. We also walked around Lake Curalo at the suggestion of the lady in the Information Centre. Definitely not the highlight of Eden, the lake is in a terrible state; stagnant, stinky and black.

It was pretty quiet in the town of Eden and chatting to locals in the shops, we discovered that the town is hurting pretty badly. Grim and dire were words used regularly. That night, being Valentine’s Day, we went out for dinner to the local Chinese restaurant. The food was delicious but the restaurant was practically empty. We also kept hearing about the supposed bad weather that was to come over the weekend. The locals had organised a big fishing competition to bring some much needed business and tourism back into the town, but unfortunately it was cancelled due to the weather. Another blow for the town.

Needless to say, we were becoming a bit concerned about the weather that was being predicted. Cool Change, by her very design, rolls with even the slightest swell, and while some gentle swaying is tolerable, the thought of trying to eat, sleep, cook and go to the toilet in a rocking and rolling boat was not too appealing. The three metre swell that the professionals were warning us about had us spooked! And so we made the decision to abandon ship to a motel for the following night.

After depositing a small bag at the motel in the morning, we caught a taxi out to a northern section of Ben Boyd National Park, about halfway to Pambula, where we planned to do some hiking. Unfortunately, a large part of the Ben Boyd National Park had been affected by the bushfires and were closed, including the overnight hike to Green Cape Lighthouse that we had hoped to do. Nevertheless, we had a lovely day walking the trails in this section, and particularly enjoyed some spectacular rock formations along the coast. After walking approximately 18 kilometres, we were both pretty tired, and a hot shower and pizza for dinner that night went down very well.

Looking out at the bay that evening, we couldn’t see the monster swell that had been forecast. Oh well, maybe it will develop overnight, we thought. However, on arriving back at the boat in the morning, although we found the water to be quite choppy, the swell was still not too bad. Nothing much had moved around inside Cool Change, so we’re pretty sure that the three metre swell never eventuated. Oh well! At least we contributed to a local business with our motel stay!

That afternoon my friend Ange’s Mum, Helen, came to visit. Helen lives just a short drive away near Pambula so came out to say Hi and for a tour of our boat. To save Helen from a longish and potentially wet trip in the tender, as the choppy water meant a fair bit of spray for passengers, I organised to pick her up from the shore of Cocora Beach which was directly opposite where Cool Change was moored. ‘But is it safe?’ Helen asked me over the phone. ‘No probs,’ I told her, not being able to properly see the waves that were breaking on the shore from our boat.

So into the tender I hopped, motoring over to where Helen stood, waving at me from the shore. As I approached the beach I now understood Helen’s concerned question of earlier; there were some pretty sizeable waves breaking onto the shore. And as I coasted in, turned off the engine and attempted to lift the motor out of the water, the little boat turned sideways just as a wave broke right over us. Whoosh, the boat half filled with water and I was saturated. Somehow, not sure exactly how, I managed to prevent a full capsize and drag the boat safely onto shore. Hi Helen!!

All credit to Helen, she is a very lovely, very trusting and very brave lady. I’m sure she was thinking, ‘Who is this crazy woman?’ but she just rolled up her pants, put on a PFD and gamely hopped into the tender while I swam it out past the breaking waves, inelegantly clambered in and rowed us back to the yacht, the two of us laughing all the way.

We had a lovely visit with Helen, showing her around the boat, and discovering lots of local knowledge and tips about Eden and surrounding towns. She also brought us some delicious homemade fruit cake. The return trip to shore was incident free, but I did feel relieved when Helen was safely back on dry land. She had to go home to monitor an alpaca about to give birth – how cool is that! Thanks for visiting, Helen!

On Monday we spent a quiet afternoon at Aslings Beach; Matt tried his hand at surf fishing while I practised yoga further down the beach near the lovely Ocean Pool (personal space is important, peeps). Although it was quite overcast and cloudy, and not really warm enough to warrant a swim, it was definitely a lovely place to hang out for the afternoon.

Our final day in Eden gave us the best weather we’d had for ages, sunny and warm all day, and we walked the Bundian Way Story Trail from Cocora Beach to Quarantine Bay. It is a lovely walk, with lots of picturesque viewpoints looking out over the bays. We had our bathers and towels packed, with the plan for a swim in Quarantine Bay. However, we didn’t last long in the water, as it was unfortunately very dirty, filled with debris from the bushfires.

Around 7 pm that night a large storm rolled through, with a huge number of brilliant lightning strikes. It was a truly spectacular sight from the boat. Fortunately the lightning seemed to remain about 10 kms away, and although the rain that followed was very heavy it didn’t last for very long. It was a dramatic farewell to Eden, for in the morning we were off to Bermagui.

Matt’s Song of the Week: Let the good times roll – JD McPherson

Lisa’s Book of the Week: Extreme Fishing – Robson Green

I arrived back at Lakes Entrance on Thursday night to find Matt with his feet up in the cockpit drinking a beer. Wonder how often that was the picture in the five days I was away?! Matt assured me he’d missed me terribly and we went to the Pub for dinner to celebrate my return to the trip. Friday was a warm and very still day, and so while we were waiting for high tide in order to move out to another town, we took out the stand-up paddle boards. For only our second real attempt, I think we did pretty well – 3 hours paddling out around Bullock Island and down The Narrows and back. Neither of us fell off and we only had to sit down a couple of times when a boat with a big wake passed us.

About 5 pm, on high water, we motored out and further into the Gippsland Lakes. We were aiming for Paynesville, a cute little town off Lake King that we knew had docks with visitor berths. After negotiating some narrow sections with very shallow parts we made it to deeper water and were able to put the sails up – sailing for the first time in 9 days. Arriving at Paynesville, we pulled up at the Grassy Point Marina and found ourselves another 4 hour berth (although this time we were only to stay 4 days!)

The next day we took our bikes over to Raymond Island on the Raymond Island Ferry. Only 200 metres across the water, the ferry is the only way to access the island (apart from private boat). It runs every 20 minutes, and carries cars, motorbikes, bicycles and passengers, the latter two being free. Raymond Island is only 6 km by 2 km in size, and is most well known for its large koala population. We cycled around the island and spotted nine koalas. That mightn’t sound a lot, but these are wild koalas and on recent trips with my students to the Koala Conservation Centre on Phillip Island we were lucky to spot five koalas in an enclosure, and we had to pay for the privilege. So I was pretty chuffed to see these guys in the wild and we enjoyed getting some good photos. Here are 3 of our best.

Sunday saw us cycling out to Sunset Cove and Eagle Point. After our 2.5 hour ride and yesterday’s 3 hour ride, we felt we deserved a treat and so spent the afternoon in the Paynesville Wine Bar. Lovely place, lovely wine, lovely afternoon.

Monday was my birthday and what a fizzer of a day it was. Overcast, gloomy and alternating between rain and drizzle; we spent most of the day in the yacht, reading, napping and listening to music. Although we did find some free public showers with hot water, the highlight of our day! Neither of us were feeling all that great, fighting off colds, but we mustered the energy to head out to the Pub for dinner. Happy Birthday to me!

And what a difference a day makes. Tuesday dawned clear, dry and relatively sunny and we headed off on our bikes, past Eagle Point to check out the Mitchell River silt jetties. It was quite a pretty ride and we enjoyed being out exercising. On our way back we came upon an echidna crossing the road in front of us. Matt managed to get a couple of close-ups as he hurried away from us.

Back on the boat, I cooked up a spag bol sauce while Matt pulled the bikes apart and stowed them away. Then, after manoeuvering our way through the Gippsland Lakes Yacht Club’s weekly social race, we set off for Lakes Entrance and tied up to Flagstaff Jetty. Once again, Lakes Entrance welcomed us with a spectacular sunset.

After quickly making quesadillas for dinner with the pre-prepared spag bol sauce, we were early to bed, as we planned on exiting through the bar in the morning and undertaking the long journey to Eden. It would take us 25 hours and was to be our first time taking proper overnight shifts. More on that in the next update.

Thanks for reading!

Special guest contributor Matt (some embellishment for the sake of the story follows)

Having arrived at Lakes Entrance and finding a nice four hour berth that would be our home for the next week, about 50 metres from the pub, it was time to undertake some general maintenance and running repairs on the boat. To undertake the repair someone had to go up the mast on the bosuns chair. After losing consistently and getting to best of 4 out of 7 in a game of ‘rock, paper, scissors’ (Is there anything in the world that can beat Rock? good ‘ol Rock never fails….), I went up the mast and Lisa manned the winch.

After inspecting and identifying the faulty part and removing it, I was ready to come down. The adrenalin was pumping as I relied on Lisa to ease me down using the winch. A few slips on the winch, a few choice words and my heart rate was about 320bpm. Adrenalin is very much like a double black espresso coffee in as much that it gets your heart pumping. Having safely arrived back on the deck with the pulley that was beyond repair, I got out of the chair and made my way along the deck.

Lisa enquired as to why I was walking like a bowlegged crab. My reply in my best pirates voice was “Arrrr, all ye cool sailors be doing it” as I made my way below decks to the head (toilet). It was there that my worst fears were confirmed. This repair had suddenly gotten more expensive. In addition to the pully that was beyond repair, I would also need to add a pair of shorts to the tab as they were also beyond saving. But on the bright side I can also confirm another similarity between coffee and adrenalin.

Another job on the list was to extend the anchor chain. The boat has 50 metres of chain which allows us to anchor in up to about 10 metres of water. The general rule of thumb is to let 5 times the length out for the depth to ensure the anchor holds. Given our plans I wanted to add 50 metres of rope to the chain. I discussed options with Trevor ‘Chook’ Omara from Leftrade Gear Store. I said to him that I would be certain to remember his name as my brother’s name was also Trevor. After a bit of back and forth, a cunning plan was agreed upon. He would come to the boat on Monday and assured me he could splice rope onto a chain. To be perfectly honest, I was a little bit dubious of Trevor based on my previous experience with Trevor’s and wasn’t expecting much but hot air and excuses.

Unfortunately, Lisa had to return to Melbourne the next day (Sunday) as her Dad was in the CCU at Monash Hospital (he had a successful procedure and is ok now), which left me on my own for an undetermined amount of time. At first I was despondent and very lost emotionally. Much like Kevin McCallister in Home Alone when he first realised his family had disappeared. But after some contemplation and soul searching I was like Kevin McCallister a few moments later in Home Alone when he realised his family had disappeared. It is debatable who arrived at the positive conclusion quicker, but for the sake of harmony on the boat moving forward it would be helpful to agree that Kevin got there far quicker than I did.

On Monday I rode my bike to the boat shop to see Trevor. He said he would come down to the boat and see what he could do. Trev, as I called him now cos we were mates, was extremely helpful and spliced the rope onto the chain in no time at all. It was only about 10am and he was done. A job that would have taken me all day. Splicing is very similar to braiding hair but it’s called splicing because it sounds far more manly. It joins the rope to the chain and allows the join between the rope and chain to feed through the winch and will not pull apart under load. I paid Trev the fee and gave him a 6 pack of Carlton for his troubles. I think it was partly because I was in shock that a Trevor had a practical skill.

As he left it dawned on me that perhaps this is what the unemployed sociology majors who have a minor in lesbian dance theory call “unconscious bias.” With the liberty of time on my side, I retired to my hammock to contemplate my epiphany and did not arise until well into the afternoon.

After dinner that night I set up the camera and the telescope and took some pictures of the moon.

On the boat we have made room for 3 surfboards and 2 mountain bikes…… Plus about 3 dozen bottles of red wine but that’s another story. I had put the mountain bikes together shortly after arriving in Lakes Entrance. With Lisa’s departure I had packed hers away and planned on going for a mountain bike ride. I had previously been to the local bike shop, Venture Out, and asked about the local trails and to purchase a few things. I was told the place to go was only about 10 kms up the highway; Colquhoun. I took off on my ride. It felt good to put the lycra back on.

The bike I have is a hardtail mountain bike with 27.5 + tyres. If your average Beach Road rider on his or her carbon fibre road bike is the equivalent of a sports car then my mountain bike is the equivalent of a jacked up 4wd with chunky tyres that you can hear coming from about 3 streets away. After huffing and puffing for about 45 minutes I made it to the turnoff to the trails and commenced the ride. It was about 20 kms of some really nice single trail. One section was called Lollypop. It was kind of like a halfpipe where the trail crosses up and down a gully. Gravity would take you down and momentum would take you to the top. If you are in the area and are into that kind of thing it’s worth checking out.

About three quarters through the mountain bike track you go along the rail trail. This is basically a gravel path and not normally much fun, but that is where I saw it. At first I wasn’t sure what it was. A beast of some unknown lineage off in the distance. I stopped as it was big. It looked kind of like some mutant Clydesdale. A large body and head but with very short stumpy legs. It was in the middle of the path about 200 metres away. I had sensed it, and more to the point, it had sensed me and started to move….fast. For a few seconds, and at the distance it was from me, I was not immediately sure if it was moving towards me or away from me. It scampered away and into the scrub, then it pounced up a tree. The beast I had observed was a goanna that was big enough to be a stunt double in the next instalment of Jurassic Park.

We eyed each other as our paths crossed and I continued my ride. I did see another one, but this one was obviously the runt of the litter and only about the size of a Shetland pony so I managed to snap a few pictures of it

I finshed the ride and made my way back to town and to the boat. As a treat I had a medium half Hawaiian and half Americana and a can of coke for dinner… plus a few scotchies on the rocks as I watched the sun set over the horizon and took a few snaps.

The next few days were spent pining for Lisa. I was missing her terribly and the dishes were starting to pile up. On the day before she returned I went to the lookout I had ridden past on my mountain bike ride with my camera and tripod before sunset. I set up and waited for the magic to happen. The lookout was just on the highway on the main road out of town and only about 2 kms from the boat. There were several places to view the sunset from and it was quite a show. I took about 832 photos from a few different vantage points and one turned out pretty good.

Thanks for reading. As there is no TV on the boat, the songs of the week on Spotify were:

Let your love flow – Bellamy Brothers

Wildflowers – Tom Petty

Your love – Outfield

Take it on the run – Reo Speedwagon

Tuesdays Gone – Lynyrd Skynyrd

In fact, all these songs and more can be found on the Spotify playlist called “Yacht Rock.” Lisa and I were the 567,032 follower to this list, why don’t you be the 567,033 follower? If you have the means, it gets the big tick from me.

I’ve added these last paragraphs separate to the rest. It’s about moments of truth, a realisation of a dream. Goals achieved. I’ve been very lucky to be able to dream so big with the honest expectation of achieving my dreams. I am lucky to be in the position I am. The feeling of standing on the bow of your own yacht as it slices through the ocean with nothing but the wind to propel it is a unique and humbling experience. There have been many moments where emotions have swept over me and overwhelmed me in the past weeks.

To do things on your own timeline, on your own terms, to detach from Monday to Friday, is a freeing experience. Several months ago I encouraged a person I used to work with to chase their dreams with the advice that the effort was worth it, even if you fell short of your target as so there are so many people who don’t even try for fear of failure. In the past few weeks I have seen, experienced and done things I never thought I would and Lisa and I are only a month into our adventure.

Life is great.

This blog will be returning to normal programming next week.

And what a welcome it was – completely flat and calm water, beautiful sunshine, a secure dock to tie up to and then a spectacular sunset. After our 15 hour passage, Lakes Entrance was a very welcome sight.

But let me backtrack, and explain a bit about our journey.

After leaving the Kent Group Islands, we sailed four hours to Hogan Island, where we intended to stay overnight before setting off for Lakes Entrance. I was quite nervous about crossing the Lakes Entrance bar as in the wrong conditions it can be very dangerous, and so timing your arrival to enter in favourable conditions is crucial. This means taking into account predicted tide times, wind speed and direction as well as the likely sea-state on arrival.

We’d been checking the forecasts for all of these in the days beforehand as often as we could, but phone and internet reception had been patchy on the islands out in Bass Strait. So when we arrived at Hogan Island, Matt climbed up to the highest point with both of our phones, and managed to talk to the Harbour Master. His advice was to arrive at the bar at either 9am or 3pm for a crossing.

The wind and swell forecasts all looked good for safe crossing conditions, and so we decided we’d give it a go. With a distance of 92 nautical miles, and an estimated average speed of 6 knots, we calculated a passage time of 15 hours. So in order to arrive at the Lakes Entrance bar at 3pm, we needed to depart Hogan Island at midnight – it seemed we were to undertake our first night sail!

We agreed we were up for it, had an early dinner and headed to bed at 6.30pm to try to get in a few hours of sleep. The alarm woke us both up at a quarter to twelve, so we’d at least had a few hours sleep. Changing into our full sailing gear; overalls, boots and jackets, with beanies and PFDs, we were all rugged up and ready to head off. Luckily the wind was from the north and only fairly light, so it wasn’t completely freezing, but cold enough.

It was, however, pitch black with no moon but an incredible show of stars. We could clearly pick out the Southern Cross and the ‘saucepan’ (about the only 2 constellations I know!). Looking around the cockpit, I couldn’t see anything except blackness, not even Matt sitting just one metre away. Feeling strangely calm, and relying completely on the navigational equipment, we manoeuvred our way around small rocks and islands and out into the open sea. From there on, with the autopilot set, the radar was to be our friend, giving us peace of mind that we weren’t about to crash into something in the total darkness.

And so we continued motoring, as the wind was coming in the wrong direction for us to sail, and just after 5am, we began to see a faint light creeping up from the east. This developed into a spectacular light show, with colours to rival the most incredible of sunsets. After about ten minutes the colour completely disappeared, leaving just a pale glow. And then, maybe 20 minutes later, the sun made its appearance, glowing fiery and orange, and rising up from the horizon. I had never before witnessed a complete sunrise; from utter darkness to first light to seeing the orb of the sun rise. It’s a pretty amazing sight.

Not long after this, a heavy fog rolled in, leaving us only able to see about 100 metres in any direction. A different kind of darkness! And what good timing for us! The fog didn’t last long and rolled away, the sun came out and the wind died off even further as the day progressed, and the water became flatter and flatter. It was like being in a lake. This was all boding well for a safe bar crossing.

We reached the bar at almost exactly 3pm, and there was barely a ripple in the ocean. I felt a huge sense of relief that we had made it on time and that it looked so calm and safe. After getting the ok to enter on the radio, Matt lined us up and we were through. Seals were frolicking in the middle of the entrance, directly in our path as we motored through.

After filling up our diesel and water tanks, we made our way into Lakes Entrance and found a dock which we tied up to (Cunninghame Quay). It was nice to be securely tied up for a change, and not to have to worry about things like the anchor dragging and anchor alarms.

Both of us being completely exhausted, we headed to the Pub for dinner and then enjoyed a few drinks sitting quietly on the boat. There was an incredible sunset that night, with vibrant reds, oranges, pinks and purples, welcoming us to Lakes Entrance.