Life on board a boat. What if and why not?
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Best paint job ever

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Proud of our beautiful new paint job

This post is a shout out to The Boat Builder. Loving your work.

Oct ’22 Manly , Queensland Australia

Conversation with Shannan Batey, The Boat Builder

—

Shannan (The Boat Builder) ‘I want to be there when you reconnect your anchor to Saboteur’

Me (Tess, the client) ‘Why? Are you worried that we will accidentally damage your beautiful new paint work?’

Shannan, ‘Absolutely’

Me, ‘Gotcha, I understand.’

—

We were all feeling very proud of the beautiful new finish on our yacht ‘Saboteur’.

Jan ’23, Coastal waters of the Bay of Plenty, North Island, New Zealand

Three months later we are 1500nm (that is nautical miles) away from Manly, Queensland, Australia, off the East Coast of the North Island of New Zealand. We were motor sailing towards Wellington staying ahead of a storm front. Our motor slowed, choked, and died. Over the next 6 hours, it happened another three times until it would not start again. The storm was catching us. The sea state was 3.5m swells with 2 metre cross swells. On every fifth swell, the cross swell was causing us to rise and slam our bow into the water creating a crest of spray across the length of the boat.

NZ Coast Guard

We need help. The Gisborne Harbour Master connected us with marine rescue, or Coast Guard as it is called in NZ. Still able to travel under sail, we sailed 6 hour to the Bay of Poverty where we turned in heading for Gisborne with the security of knowing that the Coast Guard was on standby to assist us to dock.

We anchored in the Bay of Poverty and brought our sails in. With sails secured, the Coast Guard came alongside us, and the process began of securing four lines to secure us tightly to their craft. Their craft is fully skirted with protective fenders. But even in the bay, there were still large swells throwing both craft around, causing some very heavy collisions. Finally, secured to the coast guard vessel and I raised the anchor. Marty (Martin Lloyd) was on the helm. Getting started and gaining movement was the hardest part. A rough swell saw our boats rise and fall in opposite directions at the same time causing impact damage to the teak tow-rail. Marty was stressing about the impact on our new paint work. I was more matter of fact. Let’s wait and see.

The skills of the Coast Guard in guiding our boat to safety were amazing.

A warm welcome

Coming up to the dock we saw Peter, the Harbour Master, in his all-weather jacket, rain belting down on him, waiting to catch our lines.

The pending 40 – 50 knot winds and attendant gusts that were due any moment. Consequently, we doubled up and tripled up our mooring lines.

We thanked the Coast Guard and waved them goodbye. They along with Peter said they know where we are and will catch up with us over the next day or two.

Relief

With everyone gone, I dared to look at the hull, at our new paint job. It was perfect. Absolutely no damage at all. Thank you to Shannan Batey and crew for the best paint job ever. Now to contact them about the best way to repair the tow-rail.

Thank you Shannan Batey and Kurt Eric Chu

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Digging the sailing life…

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Colmslie Reach Beach when calm. My happy place.

Digging the sailing life… not… I am just not feeling it. Am I over all that the sailing life entails? Is it too hard?

I’m sure as hell not in love with our wind generator as I try to sleep at night.

The last few weeks have tested me. Hanging in on top of the flu (Marty Martin Lloyd) Dentist (Marty) flu (me), Dentist (me) Hernia Op (Marty) Covid (me) Covid (Marty)…

Enough… I shout.

I phoned my bro Michael Brook and asked him to drop off a RAT test. We talked briefly and I described my symptoms. He told me it sounded like his recent symptoms. We met at the jetty and he gave me 4 RAT tests, a bag of apples, a bunch of bananas and a pot of home made Chicken soup.

OMG legend.

It was strange not to get out of the dinghy and given him a hug. It was air kisses from afar. He handed over the greatly appreciated goods with the words, ‘Buckle up sis, you are in for a ride’.

The first few days were a fog of aches and pains of which I have but a hazy memory. Aches and pains shifted to nausea … wind against tide. Got to hate that. Trust me. The winds pick up.

My anchor alarm went off, about 7pm…

I headed to the cockpit to see the stern of the boat was close to touching the anchoring buoy. The wind had us on full stretch and I am not sure how much more stretch we had in the anchor chain. I need to move the boat. Barhumbug. Cold and nauseous, I donned my waterproof jacket and life vest, turned the engine on and told myself to belt up…

I phoned my neighbour Michael Hendra to let him know what I was doing. He was going to keep an eye out for me. It wasn’t like I could ask him aboard to help with COVID and all. Plus I had done this before on my own at night. I headed to the front of the boat to see what the anchor chain was doing. Not sure why, as I already knew that I was being pushed back. Three points of contact … whoa … I need to throw up! I leaned overboard, holding on and threw up.

Damn, I did not see that coming.

I got to the bow to remove the snubber. (The snubber is a short length of non-stretchy rope hooked to the anchor chain and to two strong points on the front of the boat. It’s function is to take the load off the anchor winch and stop the chain rattling). I love our snubber… normally. Removing the snubber required leaning forward. I was hoping I didn’t throw up again. Snubber removed.

I headed back to the cockpit. I had Freddie Mercury in my head… ‘Don’t stop me now, I am having a good time.’ Really… Now I am hot. The cool breeze was lovely on my face and my legs. I realise that I was no longer cold. Perhaps I have a fever.

I put the boat into gear to nudge forward, getting ready to lift the anchor. You had to be kidding me. I needed to go to the toilet. Anchor chain raising could wait. I headed below. On the way back up, I went via the galley and grabbed two gastro stop tablets. Still, Freddie was in my head.

Back in the cockpit… I lifted the anchor chain from the cockpit. I nudged forward. There were 20 knot winds. The boat was being pushed from behind by the current, but the wind was playing to its own tune. I went to drop the anchor.

No sooner did I slow the engine, the current and the wind started working against each other and put the boat into a spin. It was crazy.

I continued to lower the anchor, with no idea how I was going to make sure the anchor had set. The usual practice is to allow the boat to drift back in the current and add a touch of reverse to ensure that the anchor grabs. You can normally see the chain pull tight before resuming a curve to the river bottom.

I did not like the position I was in and decided to try again, hoping the wind would drop a little. I phoned my neighbour Mike, to tell him that I was going to try again.

Take two, and I had about as much success as take one. Seriously not digging the sailing life.

Another quick call to Mike to let him know I was going to try again. He said I should try and come in a little closer to shore. I wasn’t game, as if I got into another spin, I didn’t want to hit another boat coming out of a spin.

I decided to go for a little river cruise.

Not really, just a bigger circuit and more speed in the straight when dropping my anchor. Hoping to… I wasn’t sure what. As I rounded the anchor buoy, the wind dropped to 5 knots. You beauty! By the time I got to the position where I wished to drop anchor, it was back up to 20 knots. I dropped the anchor. At best guessing how much chain I had out. Normally, I can only tell how much if I am at the bow and there is decent light. However not this dark miserable windy evening.

I sat and waited. And waited. I could not set the anchor alarm with any accuracy. However, I could put GPS pins down on my Navionics map and so I did just that. And another pin, and another and another.

Gradually, I was feeling more comfortable. The pins told me that I was not moving, at least for now. Somewhere during the past 30 or so minutes, I threw up and visited the toilet again. I was very grateful to have Mike nearby. Someone I could call if need be and always willing to lend a hand.

Gradually, the boat turned with the current and wind, which were more or less in alignment. 

I got a message from Marty, ‘Did you manage to fall asleep?’ A quick call. I told him what had been happening how tired I was, how cold and miserable I was and that I was missing my baby. He said, ‘I wish I could be there to help you’. I really wished more than ever that he was, too.

I decided to go to bed and catch the next 4 hours sleep while wind and tide were in alignment. Weather wise, the next day was a better day. I slept most of the day. Thursday, I dragged my bones out of bed and got a Covid CPR test. Before heading back to the boat, I sat on the beach in the sun for a little bit. It was lovely. I got a message from the test centre saying they are testing for other viruses as well. Great… Time will tell.

I got back to the boat to find Maritime Safety Queensland pulling up.

They waited while I tied off.

They asked me if I knew that Saboteur was in the passage. I said I did, explained why and that during the night I had had two attempts to move. They asked me if I was still on my own. ‘Yes’, I replied, I was. And was I up to/able to move the boat again? ‘Sure, why not. After all I am really digging the sailing life…’ Ha, ha. Actually, it was a such a pleasure to do it again when it was calm. It still took me three goes to get a position I was happy with. About two hours later, a massive ship was docked at the terminal for about 6 hours and left again. Saboteur was safely within the anchorage, and I was once again tucked up in bed.

I tell you of this adventure not for your praise. More so for my friends who worry about me being on the boat on my own. This is for you, to let you know that I can do it, when I have to. I don’t always want to.

As my close friends know I can be too independent at times. It is both a strength and a weakness.

Missing Marty and wishing he was with me I shed a tear or two and secretly the wind generator would die as I had totally forgotten how to turn it off. I asked Marty the next day. It was so simple. One button.

At the time I wrote this post the boat was seriously not my favourite spot. Perhaps, it will be again tomorrow, or next week, or when a few of my half-started projects are finished, or when I am over being sick, or when Marty is back and we are together again. Or a combination of the above. Who knows. Time will tell.

What I do know is when I returned home from work on Wednesday, I had the biggest grin on my face. Thursday, Mike’s music rolled across the water to greet me like a warm hug and Friday evening, I simply sat in the cockpit and enjoyed the sunset and a couple of phone calls with friends. I still love Saboteur even if she is a little hard work. I am digging the sailing life.

To borrow words from my friend Tom Stodulka, Life is a dance.

This post was originally published on Facebook on August 08, 2022.

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When common sense failed me

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My very heavy 20l water containers.

Common sense completely failed me Tuesday just gone. The beautiful twilight and new moon was the setting for a domino-like cascade of events.

I was enjoying the twilight and the sound of water passing me by as I pottered home from work in my dinghy. I decided that I would fill up our three spare 20 litre water bottles.

The main challenge with being on anchor is topping up our water supplies.

3 x 20l water containers
3 x 20 litre water containers

Note – we carry about 600 litres of water in our water tanks and have the three 20 litre containers for back up runs.

To top up the water tanks we have a few choices:

Take a marina berth for a night or two:
– Top up the fuel at a fuel dock and top up the water at the same time
Go to a public jetty that has:
– enough clearance for our boat keel and the ability to tie off
– potable water

It was a beautiful twilight and topping up the water containers seemed like a good idea.

The fresh water pump was starting to work hard telling me that it does not have much water left to pump.

Arriving home, I tied off in my usual manner after tying the painter line (the rope on the bow of the dinghy) on the cleat, and looped up the remaining line, hanging it off the stanchions. As usual, Zac was there to great me. We said hello to each other as I grabbed the water containers, the hose and the rubbish bag, jumped in the dinghy and headed off for the jetty.

I slowly approached the shore side of the jetty giving the eager fishermen a chance to pull their nets in.

I tied off, jumped out of the dinghy and asked a few of the fisherman how they were going as I headed up the ramp to dispose of the rubbish in the nearby bin.

On my way back down the ramp, I stopped and spoke to the couple who were fishing near the potable water tap. I informed them that I needed to fill some water containers. No worries, he said with his lovely accent and a grin.

I jumped back in the dinghy and headed around to the other side, taking a wide berth to avoid nets and lines. I pulled up. Eager hands tied me off and I was asked to pass up the hose. This I did, and was then asked for the male fitting.

Damn, common sense failed me. I did not check the hose when I grabbed it and I had left the tap fitting on the boat.

With the hose, we could fill the containers with out lifting them in and out of the dinghy.

No worries, my new friend said and he asked me to pass up the water containers.

This I did and he started to fill them for me. The first one he filled to its full 20 litres. I jumped out of the dinghy and asked him to fill only to 15 litres as 20 litres is too heavy for me. He said, ‘I fill, you tip out if it is too much’. I tipped out about 5 litres from the first container. The other two he filled to about 18 litres.

He lowered them to me in the dinghy and with lots of thank you smiles and waves, I headed back to Saboteur. I tied off in my usual way.

Now I don’t know what happened to my common sense. In what universe was I in that I thought that I could lift an 18 litre container of water to shoulder height is beyond me.

And transfer it on the deck, in a moving boat where any transfer of weight moves the location of the dinghy.

What could possibly go wrong? You are about to find out.

For whatever reason I gave it a try. The thought crossed my mind that perhaps I should tie the container off. It remained a thought. I got the container on the edge of the toe rail and the dinghy started to move backwards. The more I pushed forward, the more the dinghy moved backwards.

The inevitable happened: commons sense hit home with a dramatic splash as the water container feel into the river. I watched, waiting to see it sink. It bopped along. It appeared to have enough air in it to keep it on the water surface. Awesome.

I untied the paynter line and went in pursuit of the water container. Only, once again common sense failed me and I forgot to grab….

…. the loops of line hanging off the stanchion.

Dinghy paynter up close.
Dinghy paynter for afar

This, I discovered, made the dingy jerk backwards, still constrained. I turned the tiller, well I had no choice, and said line was now pushing hard on the post holding my safety navigation light up.

And with a snap it broke off and a flashing light began drifting away just under the water surface.

I got back to the boat and removed the looped painter line and turned to look for my water container. It was a new moon and by now quite dark. Fortunately, the flashing light was showing me the direction of the current. And beyond the flashing light, I saw my water container.

Relief… I personally would have hated to run into it, or to be responsible for any damage to someone else’s boat if I did not retrieve it.

I caught up to my bopping navigation light. I slowed my outboard and put my left arm elbow deep in the water to grab the light. Light recovered. I was pleased. My next task was to grab the water container. I caught up to it and tied it off. Finally, common sense prevailed. I turned back to Saboteur, with the water bottle still in the water, on a short line.

This time I tied off at the swim board, which is about 30 cms above the water line.

Saboteur's swim board. A much more sensible height to be working from

I got out of the dinghy and grabbed a line to tie off the first water container. I lifted it easily to the swim board. And again, up to the deck. I poured it straight into the water tank and put the water container away repeating the process with each water container.

I moved the dinghy back to the side of the boat and tied her up once more. The evening adventure was over. I know Marty (Martin Lloyd) is going to laugh. He always ties off the containers and uses the halyard to haul the containers up from the dinghy.

I sat down and took off my life jacket to give Zac the cuddle he was insisting on. I smiled at myself. This was the first time I had done the water containers on my own.

Another lesson learnt.

The irony is that I had purchased a small ‘kickarse pump in a box’ (yes, that is what it is called!) so that I never have to lift a full water container again. I got the 12 volt fitting installed in the cockpit a couple of weeks ago. I am just waiting for the Anderson switch to the 12 volt connector.

Life is an adventure.

Originally posted on Facebook on July 7, ’22

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A tad too far

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Our position on the chart

Yesterday’s adventure, Saboteur went a tad too far.

Midday, I received a message that it went like this.

‘Hi, this is Jeremy, from Maritime Safety Queensland. Tess can you please call me back. It is fairly urgent’.

Already my mind had reached the conclusion that the boat had dragged. The two outcomes could have been either we had hit another boat or we had drifted into the main shipping channel. Nether option is desirable.

I phoned Jeremy back. The call went like this.

Me: ‘Hi Jeremy, Tess here. You left me a message.’

Jeremy: ‘Hi Tess, thanks for phoning me back. I am trying to get hold of Martin Lloyd; however he is not answering. Your name is linked to his. Do you know him?’

Me: ‘Yes, I do. He is my husband. He is currently overseas.’

Jeremy: ‘That explains why he did not answer the phone. We were worried because your boat is in the main shipping channel. It appears to have drifted. When Martin did not answer we were worried that he was not well as the dinghy is tethered to the boat.’

Me: ‘That’s because I paddled my kayak to work. Left the dinghy behind.’

Jeremy: ‘You work nearby?’

Me: ‘Yes, I am working for a shipwright and currently working on a boat at Rivergate.’

Jeremy: ‘We need you to move your yacht out of the main shipping channel.’

I am guessing Saboteur was more than just a tad too far.

Me: ‘I can understand that. How urgent is this. Do you want me to move it now, or can I move it around four-ish?’

Jeremy: ‘I will check, just one second. (pause) There are no large vessels going down the channel for the rest of the day. You can move it this afternoon.’

Me: ‘That’s great, I have to paddle back to the boat. I will move it around four-ish.’

I immediately jumped on the link Daniel Cooke had sent me off a bigger anchor for sale on Gumtree. A quick email followed asking ‘Is it still available?’ The reply was prompt, ‘Yes it is’. I phoned the number. Ironically, it was someone we had meet at Boat Works Marina. They have two cats aboard and like us are preparing for a big sail. Great, new anchor sorted…

Now to inform my boss. I had to solve another problem and then move our boat. I informed my boss of that Saboteur was a tad too far in the shipping channel. Along with the fact that I believe we had lost reverse gear on the weekend (post Martin leaving). I was a little concerned that I may not have forward gear as well. Well, you never know. He rightly said, before I lift the anchor, I should check that I have forward gear. Sound advice.

I went to the mechanic’s ‘Lex Baddiley Marine Engineering‘. I found Paul (the boss) working on the boat next to us. Their company was also doing the work on the prawning trawler that I am working on. I explained to Paul the situation with reverse gear. If said it is one of two things. Most likely an adjustment needs to be made and it should be OK. He said that he will organise one of his guys to come to the boat with me at lunch time today. Another problem sorted. One more to resolve before I leave to move the yacht.

I headed to the marina office to explain my predicament and that I needed to move to move the yacht, plus I had some gear issues. One of the mechanics was coming with me to the boat (in the dinghy). I had approval to tie off my kayak of at Rivergate Marina but, I did not have approval for my dinghy. They said that it would be OK. They also commented that they had seen Saboteur in the middle of the channel.

I said thank you and headed off to my kayak, and paddled back to Saboteur, grateful for the current being in my favour. With current, the paddle is 15 minutes. Against the current, the paddle is 45 minutes.

It was a swift trip back. I said hi to Zac, and we had a few cuddles. It turned on the engine, wind instruments, autopilot and the engine blower. The engine blower extracts engine fumes. I checked the position of the anchor. The chain was forward off the bow of the boat. I came back to the helm, and the instruments were all working. I took a deep breath and checked that we have forward gear. Woohoo!!! Happy dance! I put the engine back into neutral. I went and checked the position of the anchor chain. It was vertical, confirming the boat had moved forward. I put the engine back into gear, and started lifting the anchor chain. All good.

I headed off to our old anchor point across the river, lined up the position, slowed the engine and put it in neutral. I locked the direction of the wheel and went forward to the bow to drop the anchor. As the anchor lowered I counted the 5 meter chain markers and set the anchor position on the anchor watch app. This app tells me if we move. Actually the alarm is a car horn. All that remained was to see if the anchor had taken. We had a swift current which pushed the back boat nicely. The chain went taut as it took the tension, and the anchor bit in. Again, very happy.

I was feeling relaxed and calm.

Everything I could do was done.

Time for a cuppa.

I was sitting on the deck and our old neighbour Mike came over in his dinghy on the way home from work. He had a big grin on his face. He was happy to see us. We talked for about 15 minutes or so, me sitting on the side of the boat and he in his dinghy. He was keen to go to his boat and play with his dog.

There was heaps to catch up on. Most importantly his boat did not move during the floods. He told me the sad story of two boats that were nearby, and how their owners had died in the floods and their boats had sunk. One guy was on land and decided that he wanted to remove his possessions from his boat. Sadly, it cost him his life. The other guy, decided to take a leak over the side of his boat. While doing so, his boat was hit by something and he fell overboard and drowned. It is a stark reminder that we have to respect the environment we are in.

I was so happy to see Mike and know that he was OK. He has kindly said if I need any help, just call.

And so, I went to work today in the dinghy. At lunch time, Phil came back to the boat with me and worked on the gear issues. The gears move so smoothly now. It is a dream. Now undo two years of forcing the gear stick into reverse. I took Phil back to the marina in time for both of us to pack up and head home.

I am grateful for many things. Mostly for the quality of people around me. Paul, Phil’s boss and who’s staff are all flat out for giving me Phil for a couple of hours to sort my reverse gear issue. Jeremy for phoning to tell me the boat was dancing along the main shipping channel. Mike, my neighbour who offered to help me with anything. Shannan, my boss for being totally understanding about having to disappear and always there to help out.

I love this industry and working with a great crew. I love how the people around me look out for and help each other.

Missing you baby. Martin Lloyd, you are missing out on so much fun. 🙂

Originally posted on Facebook on April 28, ’22

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A life less hectic

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Russell_Island_aerial_photo

Got to love a life less hectic, an extra long weekend and heading for the bay for Easter.

Late Thursday morning we departed the Coomera River around 11am, refuelled at Sanctuary Cove, as doing so, congratulated ourselves as diesel was 20 cents a litre cheaper than Gold Coast City Marina. As we came into the fuel dock the wind picked up to 20 knots, of course it did. Tess and Martin Lloyd team ‘TandM’ docked perfectly again congratulating ourselves. Why not..? We were provisioned for the long weekend. All that remained was refuelling. Diesel for Saboteur, unleaded petrol for the donk on the dinghy and water for us.

We reversed out of the fuel dock with plenty of room behind and each side of us. This gave us the wonderful opportunity to let the boat, current and wind decide which way it wanted to turn. Once natures energy revealed her hand Marty adjusted the wheel, completed the turn, put Saboteur into forward gear and continued down the river to the main passage.

We turn north into the main passage. For once, the wind was coming from the south and was favourable for a sail. It has been our experience when we want to go anywhere (slight exaggeration) the wind has not assisted us (The south end of Moreton Bay is full of narrow passages avoiding shallows and sand traps, so sailing room is not easily found).

I head below to secure loose items, something we should have done before departing. Meanwhile Marty single handily set up the staysail to make use of a following breeze, and we motor sailed up the main passage. Later he brought in the sail between a narrow point in the passage as we were on low tide and we did not want gusts of wind pushing us on to sand banks.

We enjoyed the combination of motor sailing and navigating the challenges of Morten Bay on low tide. Both just grateful to be out and travelling again.

With a deep sense of happiness we dropped anchor in one of our favourite spots.

We were back at Russell Island. Our plans were to spend two days there and then two days heading back to the Brisbane River. We need to be there as I am working on a boat at River Gate Marina for a couple of weeks.

It had been cool and windy and we were grateful to be back in a sheltered spot. I was feeling the cold, winter is coming. (Ha, ha it was below 30 and above 20 degrees Celsius). We had a nip of cognac to assist our bodies to warm up, followed by dinner and watched music concerts on You Tube until our eyelids became too heavy and we went to bed.

About 4.30 am Zac woke me to come and sit in the cockpit with him.

He was really excited and insistent. I got up and went with him to the cockpit. There were a school of fish having fun near the boat. He wanted me to sit with him and watch. Perhaps he wanted me to throw a line in which I briefly considered. I was happy to sit in the moment with Zac sitting next to me contently purring away. I had plugged in my iPhone to charge overnight but forgot to turn on the power, so what would have been a lovely chilltime video remained just Zac and my moment. As I describe it to Marty in the morning, it was a Winnie the Pooh moment in my mind.

Good Friday was peaceful. Marty baked me a gluten free hot cross bun inspired loaf.

We had steaming slices of homemade bun with lashes of melted butter and strawberry jam.

It was so good. Marty read, I sewed (still working on the cushions and winch covers). Did some hand sewing as well and played ‘Patience’ the card game. It was such a lovely lazy day.

With the passing of the day, our normally quiet anchorage started to become crowded. It was a great spot for protection from the Southerly winds. Rarely is there more than one or two other boats here. By evening time, I counted 24. That’s OK. I am happy to share.

The boat next to us was True Blue V. The last few days they had been anchored about the same distance from us in the Coomera River. Craig and Leanne invited us over for a coffee. We learnt they bought their boat in California and had sailed it home. They are my kind of sailors. They had a loose plan and would turn up at a place and if they liked it, they would stay. This is how they ended up spending a year in Mexico and several years sailing around Fiji.

We were on our way to Lindsay Hick.

Marty would be making us DimSim soup for lunch. We learnt that Craig and Leanne knew Lindsey, so we invited them to join us for lunch. Like typical sailors they went with the flow and said yes. We all piled into our 10ft dinghy and headed to shore. It was approximately a 20-minute motor. Lindsey was waiting for us at the boat ramp and he and Marty hauled our dinghy out of the water on to the ready trailer. We laughed and hugged. Big hugs of good friends accompanied with exclamations that we could see Lindsey’s face. He had trimmed his beard off. We piled into his Pajero and headed off to his place.

Lindsey’s house is quirky, unique and I love it.

He is a house builder and a ship wright and built it himself. We walked around the yard stopping to smell fruit, flowers, herbs and admire how much the garden had grown in the last few months. The new shed, retaining walls and other projects were amazing. We then headed inside, again admiring the progress, the house is close to finished. Marty set up in the galley and started making lunch. We all talked, laughed, ate and shared stories for hours.

Eventually we had to leave. Lindsey ladened us with home grown produce. We said our goodbyes accompanied with more hugs and good wishes. Reluctantly we left. It was the turning of the tide and slack water which means we would have less resistance from the current. This was of great importance to us with four adults in our small dinghy (2.5 hp donk) and heading into strong southerly winds.

There were a few takeaways from the day…

… sailing tips, destination tips, learnings and many more. Of great interest to me, Craig had almost finished doing up all the brightwork on True Blue. Brightwork is the yachting term for the timber interior. It was stunning. It was as good as new. They told us it had become damaged and neglected after 20 years since built and 6 years of their living aboard.

Craig did it himself. I asked a million questions and hopefully have taken on board his advice as I intend to do the floors on Saboteur while Marty is away in the Philippines. I hope it comes up as well as True Blue’s floors.

Saturday evening was quiet. Dinner was bits and pieces, predominantly cheese and biscuits. We took time to rough out our travels for the next two days checking tides, winds, time frames and checking once again. We were clear, we were leaving at 9am to make the most of high tide.

I took us off the anchor at Russell Island. I need the practice.

As we headed back past Millionaires Row, Marty’s phone rang. A friend, Daniel Cooke was camping on Straddie, saw us pass by and he was waving from the shoreline. We waved back and continued on our way enjoying a relaxing passage up to South of Macleay Island we dropped anchor mid-afternoon. We both had a nap. I finished installing a cat flap on the companion way. Zac can now come and go inside or out as much as he wants. I am sure he will still wake me to come and sit with him to watch the fish.

We had a lazy dinner of bangers and mash and an early night. I lifted anchored at Macleay and turned the boat to head north. As we turned the corner a dugong popped up, rolled over as if to wave us goodbye. We were on a familiar route.

Our thoughts turned to other things. We had plans for when we drop anchor near the Gateway Bridge starting with a trip to shore, a cuppa with Bill, collecting our mail of him before he delivers Marty to the train station, so he can go back to the Gold Coast and pick up his motorbike.

We are gradually learning to embrace a life less hectic. A lazy two day voyage by yacht is a 1 hour ride by motor bike.

It is truly a life less hectic.

Originally published on Facebook on April 18, ’22

Russell Island is a favourite location. I often write when I am under her spell. Check out my peak hour post from Lindsey’s place.

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Life is an adventure

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I would love to be putting up a chill time video. Unfortunately, not. life is an adventure. The weather conditions are making it prohibitive. Instead, you are about to get an update on our overnight adventure.

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On our wedding anniversary and all. In my sleep-deprived state, I smile once again at the words that my brother-in-law wrote in the wedding card that he and Barbie gave us. He said, ‘To Tess: You have taste and a taste for adventure.’

So here we are, on another adventure. Martin came home from work soaking wet. He rode his bike from Capalaba to Coomera in horrendous rain. He parked the bike, walked about 30 meters to the dinghy and had to bail the water out before heading to the boat.

Mental note. A small built in hand pump required for the dinghy.

He arrived on the boat, soaking! He peeled of his leather jacket which was super heavy, soddened with rainwater. His waterproof trousers (the ones that you wear over your trousers (sexy – not)) were clinging. Yes, they are truly waterproof, however they appear to have suction capped themselves to his jeans. They peeled off inside out. We laughed. Happy anniversary baby.

During the day I had sent him a message to pick up some bubbles as we are out. The message went via a work colleague as Martin’s phone had taken a swim in the salt water in the bottom of the dinghy when we were riding the wake of a passing cruiser. The message to pick up the bubbles did not make it to him. No problems. He had a hot shower while I prepared a ‘Saboteur Sling’ in lieu of champagne. A ‘Saboteur Sling’ is based on the Raffles Hotel ‘Singapore Sling’, using whichever ingredients we have from the Singapore Sling. This time we had no Gin. No problems.

I made us a special dinner, peeled green bay prawns (for what felt like forever) while Martin familiarised himself with the unfolding local weather situation. Prawns peeled, capsicum and carrot finely sliced, three cloves of garlic chopped up. Rice noodles soaking. I pan fried the garlic and the prawns in Sesame Oil and tossed in some chili flakes followed by the noodles, soy sauce, and fish sauce. Added bean sprouts, capsicum and carrot a few more quick tosses in the wok and I served up with a dash of lemon and alpha sprouts on top.

We sat down to our wedding anniversary dinner and our Saboteur Sling, served in our gorgeous crystal champagne flutes and started talking about the strategy for the evening. Not your typical wedding anniversary conversation. We were going to have to do watches. With the plan in place, we settle in to watch an episode of ‘Star Trek’. Navionics beside me to keep an eye on our position and bopping up into the cockpit like ‘Dicky Knee’ (A puppet from the TV show Hey, Hey, It’s Saturday’).

Martin was on watch, while I try to catch some zzz’s only to be woken soon after by Martin, informing me that we were rapidly drifting. I get up, wet weather jacket on and I headed up to cockpit. The buoy that was normally behind us was now in front of us. In sheeting rain, I headed to the bow to raise the anchor. We were drifting backwards towards a small, wooded island.

The visibility was next to nothing.

I raised the anchor. It clears the water line. I heard a grind; the anchor winch jammed. It is jammed by fishing line wrapped around tree branches. Yes, lucky us. I took over the helm and Martin grabbed my fishing knife. Meanwhile, with poor visibility I steered Saboteur between a small sailboat and our neighbouring catamaran named, ‘By Crickey’. Well, it was certainly a By Crickey moment. We were doing approximately 1 knot into the current and the Southerly winds. Meanwhile Martin was cutting away at the fishing line that was firmly caught up in our anchor winch. He cleared the winch. I turned the yacht to travel with the running water and the wind behind us.

We went from travelling 1 knot to 8.5 knots.

That was serious fast for our yacht. Don’t forget she weighs in around 20 tonnes. I lowered the motor speed. Our speed over ground (well, speed over water) did not change. We were moving at the speed of the current. Not ideal as this meant we had limited steering control over our yacht. While we were in the centre of a relatively straight passage it was fine. Corners would be a different story as our twenty tonnes will heavily influence how fast we would take a corner, or not. We don’t have to worry about that now.

We needed to drop anchor. But where?

Martin took the helm. He dropped the anchor from the cockpit midway in the passage. We swung swiftly and pulled up hard. Brilliant, we were confident the anchor had taken. We were midstream. Smack bang in the middle of the channel. We were also midships to a row of navigation lights at one of the boat ramps. This is really useful as it gives us a reference point to check if the lights don’t line up we have moved. Our strategy is to check the lights line up every 15 mins or so (Dicky Knee style popping up into the cockpit) and watching Navionics.

We both stayed up for a while. We played a game of Bananagrams and then watched an episode of ‘Cowboy Bebop’.

Martin was getting tired and went to bed for about 2 hours. I watched the remaining episodes of Cowboy Bebop keeping an eye on our position on Navionics and popping my head up into the cockpit every 15 mins or so.

Martin woke about 1pm, and we talked for a bit. It is a bit of sleep deprived haze. I think we had a cup of tea before I headed to bed close to two pm, waking around 4ish. I rose and asked Martin if he wanted to go to bed. He offered me an extra couple of hours sleep. I went back to bed and woke up around 6ish.

Kettle on, Martin updated me on the weather conditions, and I learnt Marty had already bailed the dinghy out. The water level was up to the dinghy seats. That is a lot of bailing. When he is up next, we will need to bail it again and hoist it back on the boat. He headed to bed and I took over the watch. I was going to sew, however I grabbed my laptop and decided to pen this update for you. I am constantly checking our position.

At around 8am this morning it was high tide. This means the current was meant to slow and turn. However, with so much water coming down and running out of the river the current is not turning anytime soon. The shores have mild flooding. The ducks are out and about and loving it.

Marty and I will tag team this morning, while we both catch up on sleep. I will probably finish my cushions today. This afternoon we will probably be awake together until about 10pm. If the weather continues we will do another night of split shifts.

Loving our adventure baby. Happy anniversary.

Originally published on Facebook on March 29, ’22.

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Love that old time feeling

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Rainbow

Love that old time feeling of the nod of a head or a friendly wave.

I reckon over the last two days we nodded or waved about 100 times or more as we transited from our base in the Brisbane River to the Coomera River on the Goldie.

With each wave I can’t help to grin.

It reminds me of yesteryear, of my childhood growing up in a country town. In the early years, many of the backroads between towns were single lane with both cars pulling onto the rubble in order to pass. In some cases, one car needed to give way and pull off the road completely for the other car to get past. We did not need give way signs then. We just kind of worked it out. With it was the mandatory nod, or wave or the more subtle raising of the index and middle finger. To be clear, not a rude gesture, a polite gesture that says thanks and no worries.

The same is true on the water.

We left about 9 Saturday morning and topped up the diesel at Rivergate, just past the Gateway Bridge. I still get nervous before we dock, however we have been doing a pretty good job of docking lately. Marty and I have a good system going now.

We were just about to fuel up and a catamaran was coming into dock. I caught their bow line and Marty their stern with many thanks. It is what a lot of people have done for us. We talked for a bit and we went back to our refuelling.

Saturday was a good trip despite winds on the nose, predominantly in the 15 – 20 knots range with gusts up to 22knots. It was slow going. We anchored overnight at Potts Point, Macleay Island. We saw very few boats and a couple of crazily skilled and cool windsurfers on a blade. Total respect for their talent and skills.

The few boats we saw on Saturday are the more serious sailors, the scheduled ferries and the dedicated fisherman. The few boats we passed all knew the rules of the water and how to pass. There appeared to be no recreational boaties.

On Sunday it was a totally different story. To start with, the winds were predominately 10-15 knots (still on the nose) with gusts up 20 knots.

There were lots and lots of cruisers, sailing boats, fishermen and jet skiers. The water ways were busy. Busier than we have seen in a long time. Maybe not Boxing Day busy, but getting close.

The channel markers guiding us through the shallows

We left Potts Point at 5.15am more or less on low tide, and chased low tide for a couple of hours until it got ahead of us. On the first stages of our journey, we went through the shallows right on low tide with sand banks each side.

After leaving low tide behind us, and with the sun slightly higher in the sky, more boats were on the water. At first the serious fishing boats. Almost all of them get out of our way with a friendly wave and of course, we wave back, giving me a top up on that old time feeling. Then we started to see the cruisers and more fishing boats, many taking friends and their families out. Some with kids in life jackets, some without. My heart skips a beat when I see a kid out of the cockpit without a life jacket on.

Notwithstanding, pretty much everyone waves. They are out enjoying the ‘Great South East’ and I love it. I point to names on boats, we comment on the trim on cruisers. And we both refrained from swearing when a jet-ski stopped dead in front of us while he decided which way to go left or right. Even though we were only doing 6 knots, we are 20 tonnes and take a lot of stopping.

As our day continued, Marty and I took turns at the helm. We don’t have a formal roaster we swap when we felt like it. We continued to wave, nod and grin. Sometimes I think I was just grinning because life is good. On the water and navigating between the islands is beautiful.

At around 11.30am we turned to start our journey up the Coomera river . It is familiar, comfortable and busy. It is great to see people enjoying the water.

I love this area. It is well set up for boat life. We spent our first 4 months aboard living in this spot. I have so many happy memories here.

We turned the final bend in the river and once again docked, this time at The Boat Works Marina. A friendly neighbour appeared out of nowhere to catch a line and help us tie up.

Off course another smile, and thank you.

I love that old time feeling. It leaves a warm feeling inside.

Originally published on Facebook February 22, 2022

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Peak-hour… Friday morning commute

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Colmslie Reach Beach when calm. My happy place.

Where: Today’s peak-hour is brought to you from our dinghy, commuting from Saboteur across the Colmslie Reach to the anchorage jetty.

Context: We (Marty aka Martin Lloyd and I) had clients to see.

6.15am Friday morning

Me: It’s quiet.
Marty: Yes, it is

Our dinghy motor is humming away, and we transverse peak-hour in silence. Marty watching ahead. Me, I’m mesmerised by the water patterns we are creating behind us.

6.17am

Marty: They have the generator going.
Me: I nod.

Note: I assume, like we do when on anchor, that their generator is going to top up the batteries and for any 240Volts appliances (toaster etc).

As we pass their boat, they dogs bounce out of the cabin greeting us with their barks.

Me: It must be peak hour.
Marty: I believe another peak hour post is pending. (And he was right).

Note: Marty is often right…

We continue is silence. Passing the one of the prawning trawlers.

The first decision of the day is where to tie up. Some days the jetty is crowded others not so. Today is not so.

I suggest a spot. The decision has a number of factors, the main one being which dinghy do we want our donk (motor) knocking against. The preference a s rubber rimmed dinghy not an aluminium one.

We both scan. I point and Marty spots a better spot. He masterfully approaches directly to the jetty and turns last minute to draw parallel making it yet another gentle docking.

We exit the dinghy as elegantly as we can from something that floats and bops on water and has no handrails. I secure the bow and Marty midships or do I say middinghy.

I had put my phone away and once again I pull it out to capture the water lazily rolling into the shore. I could seat here for hours.

As we walk to the car I am still memorised by the water.

Marty: I wonder if the river Dart (UK) is deep enough to sail up there, up to that little village.

I have to tune in as in my mind I and floating in the water feeling the lazy swell roll over me.

Me: I don’t know. Interesting question.

I think where our heads are at reflect how much we want to explore the world.

#ilovesailing #getoutdoors #whatareyouwaitingfor #liveyourlife #SailingSaboteur

(This post was first published to face book 05 February 2022.)

Authors note: Peak-hour is a theme that pops up in my writing. I love observing the world as it wakes up and sharing a little beautiful from where ever we are. To see our chill time videos join us on Facebook.

To read more of our adventures, jump into our blog. I love my last peak-hour post from the gorgeously sleepy Russell Island, Queensland Australia. (August 27, 2021)

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Tradie hour

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As a tradesman myself or ‘tradie’ as we tend to say, I was under the impression that all tradies pretty much started early and finished early, leaving them a good part of the day to surf, pick up kids, do stuff at home or nothing at all. I am learning that there are significant differences between domestic and marine tradies and starting times is only one of them.

Here are a few insights from last week.

We have had four tradies, over three days on our boat. Happy to say all were very competent.

Surprisingly, none of them did the really early start.

Our first tradies were the Freeze Tec guys who not only started at the civilised hour of 8am, but they turned up on time each day. Love their work. Our new 12 Volt Fridge freezer is super quiet. Matt and Dean were here on Tuesday and Mat on Wednesday for the half day.

With so many tradies on the boat what do we do with the animals?

Naturally, most people fall in love with our animals. At least the dogs. Zac gets locked in the forward berth with some food and water. He is pretty content and sleeps a lot anyway. Around mealtimes, however, he gets a bit cranky. The dogs hang out in the cockpit. They spend much of their time watching the humans downstairs until their attention is drawn to someone going past our boat, and then they sleep for a while. This pattern is on repeat. I disappear, as there is no longer any space for me to work. Matt was brilliant in helping me escape. He would feed the dogs liver treats while I disappeared off the boat to escape the madness.

Marty and I come and go. After all the boat is only 15m by 4.5m and pretty crowded with tradies, equipment and tools everywhere.

On Tuesday Marty and I hopped in the dinghy and dropped the food from our old fridge and freezer over to our friends John and Julie’s boat to keep it cold while our new fridge and freezer were being installed. On the journey there, we rescued a distressed Turtle. The Tradies turned up, Marty went to work, and my morning turned into being a wildlife warrior before attending to some appointments. On Wednesday, I ran my ‘Lost for Words’ webinar from Bill’s office. Thank you, my friend.

On Tuesday afternoon, we realised that Matt was coming back on Wednesday, so we phoned Dean, the electrician, inquiring about the possibility of him arriving in the afternoon instead of the morning. He was accommodating which was greatly appreciated.

Dean was doing work to ensure and certify that Saboteur meets NZ electrical safety requirements. He also turned up on time.

Cool cat Dan, our normal sparky, is remarkably unreliable. This time, he had an unexpected dentist visit and rescheduled with us from Tuesday to Wednesday. Typically, he starts anywhere from 10am to midday. The upside is his work is brilliant. Neat, tidy, finished properly, labelled etc.

On Wednesday, we had tradies on the boat from 8am-ish to 10.45pm. It was a long day. The one thing that does not change is tradie hour… those on the boat were happy to have a beer in hand, sit in the cockpit, tell a few stories and enjoy the sun set. All of us united by a love of beer – well maybe. All of us united by the love of boats.

(Originally this article was first publish on face book in 25 Jan ’22).

Tradie's bucket of beer
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Selling the car

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Silver Prius

I loved my car. Yes, past tense. I sold him last week. In my mind, his nickname has been Silver. Original I know. Silver is a 2008, Prius Hatch-back. He has been perfect and one of the best decisions I ever made. For comfort, reliability and cost efficiency. I looked after him and he, me.

Selling the car changes everything in terms of practicalities. There is after all a limit to how much we can carry on the bike. And at this stage, I am not sure how I will get Zac to the vet next time he needs to go. Notwithstanding, there seemed little point in keeping a car that I am not intending to be around to use. With the decision made and the car sold, we are less attached to the land. Consequently we have to be slightly more organised.

There are two big differences not having a car.

The first is pace.

Our pace has slowed down a notch or two. You just can’t jump in the car and duck around to the corner store or to the bottlo for things we forgot or want on a whim. We can’t just dash out to the chemist, or the doc as easily as we used to. It now takes a little planning.

Instead, we have our eScooters, to which we can hook a couple of grocery bags on the handlebars and scoot along the river to the local at Hamilton (or wherever we are anchored). It is a wonderful way to go shopping. We explore, we see more things, discover new bakeries (Marty aka Martin Lloyd), coffee shops (both of us), the occasional ice-cream parlour and trees to sit under.

The second difference was the experience.

Alternatively, we have Marty’s Duc (Ducati ST2 – this simply means there is a seat for me on the back). I love being on the back of the bike surrounded by sky, feeling the sun through my helmet and jacket, the breeze kissing us as we go. Being a part of the universe, fully connected to the world. I have total trust in Marty and relax with my left hand gently holding on to a side strap on his jacket and my right-hand moves, from his jacket to my thigh to the grab bar at the back. And occasionally, I swap hands.

We used to go for rides a lot when we first started going out. As life got busier, it fell away. We are doing a lot more things we use to do again. It is lovely.

The bike requires us to grab our boots, jackets, helmets and gloves and put them all in the dinghy for the ride to shore. Marty, typically, puts his boots on before getting in the dinghy. Me, I like being bare foot as long as possible. The rest of our kit, we don’t don until we are at the bike, as it is too hot. Occasionally we forget things. Yesterday I forgot my socks realising as I was putting my boots on in the dinghy. Marty forgot the bike key realising when we had tied up the dinghy and had got to the bike. He went back to the boat to get the bike key and I forgot to ask him to grab some socks for me. I laughed. At the end of the day it does not matter.

I have also been taking public transport. I enjoy it. Typically, I am not in the peak hour rush. Here we have two options. We have the Ferry at Hamilton North. It is wonderful to sit on the ferry and cruise up the river. If need be, I change to a train which will get me almost everywhere I need to go. I take my laptop, find the quiet carriage and sit and write, do emails and get things done. And occasionally look outside the window as the world passes me by. There is a train station a good walk from where we are. So that would be a scooter ride and train trip. I am enjoying the transition.

The outcome of selling the car is that we are enjoying slowing down a notch, are more connected to the world around is and slightly more organised.

It is a life less hectic.

On a final note; on selling the car, it was important to me that he went to someone who would look after him. I am thrilled that a lovely young dental student bought Silver as her first car. I know she will look after him. It is funny, even letting go. I needed Silver to go to someone who would love him.

#Downsizing #SailingSaboteur #boatlife #alifelesshectic

The very practical hatch carried so much.

Originally posted on facebook on January 18, 2022

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