Martin and I have each had a wobbly moment or two where we land on an item that we really, truly love. However the reality is that it won’t fit on the boat… Some of these items are going to be hard to part with.
And then, there is the occasional “problematic” yet happy discovery.
Happy discovery
I was rummaging in the bottom my wardrobe where I have a small present stash. This stash can accumulate over time. Here’s how. If I see something for someone that I think would make a great present I would buy it and it sits there until their birthday or Christmas, whichever comes first. Leading up to Christmas, I was rummaging through my present stash and found a fairly large bag of… wait for it… shoes! My God, I found a large bag with quite a few pairs of shoes… Hence the words “problematic” yet happy discovery.
I thought I was doing so well downsizing my shoe wardrobe. Sold at the markets, gifted to friends or retired. My shoe wardrobe was about half full, or should I say half empty and then I found these.
Unbelievable, right!
Que music David Bowie singing, “Fashion” (Fashion, turn to the left Fashion, turn the right Oo, Fashion…)
Check these babies out…
And if you are wondering if I had missed any of them, the answer was yes a couple of them, however I thought I had lent them to a girlfriend! And others, if the truth be known, I had forgotten about.
Now my memories come flooding back.
The lovely purple shoes I bought to wear with my Wayne Cooper hot pink dress and Purple coat for Jo and Derek’s (bro) wedding. It was an amazing day and evening ending with 4 generations dancing the night away. Such a wonderful celebration and a fond, fond, fond memory.
The bronze pair I love however as gorgeous as they are they are uncomfortable. The fabric has no give. You get that occasionally.
New Years Favourites
The Burgundy pair has seen me dance in the New Year when wearing my baby doll dress that alas no longer fits me. This particular night has some awesome memories… in preparation for a big night my girlfriends and I decided to stay in the city in my office, yes my office. We arrived early and watched the sun set from my office (located on the top floor (23rd) of the building) accompanied with beverages of choice. Before heading out to dance the night away at Cloudland. We set up the office as a campsite ready for our return whenever that was going to be. We danced until well into the wee small hours of the morning and slept the night off before heading out to the iconic “People’s Place” for a late lunch.
However, the shoes that will take centre stage and are worthy of a spec sheet are these red babies::
Specifications Brand: She Heel height: 5” or 12.6cm Colour: Patent leather red Purchased: Some Spanish influenced shop on Adelaide Street Brisbane
I spotted them after an emergency run for an entire outfit. Here’s what happened. I had a personal training (PT) session in the city between 7-8am and I was starting a mediation at 9am. After the PT session ended I headed to the shower only to discover I had left my clothes at home(aAnd no, I did not wear these heels to the mediation). I found this funky little Spanish shop open and manage to find an outfit I could get away with. The shop was after all targeting a much younger demographic. They even had a couple of flats. I hate flats… I just do. So, it was solely out of necessity I bought a pair of flats that I knew I would never wear again. I got dressed in their change room and ran off to my mediation.
I had spotted these babies in the window beside the shop where I bought my “rescue” outfit.
They had burnt their way on to the retina of my mind. I went back to try them on that afternoon.
It was close to my birthday and my mother-in-law had given me some cash, so I went back and bought these babies. There was no occasion for which I had planned to wear them, and at the time I was not sure if they were too over the top. I am not sure why I could think that then. I don’t have that mind set now…
Favourite moment
Frocking up for the Rocky Horror Picture show.
I have loved every moment in these shoes, Rocky horror, Halloween, parties… they have been truly party shoes…
#Iloveshoes #Ilovefashion #IloveBowie… he, he #Ilovesailing #Whatareyouwaitingfor #liveyourlife
This is my story of how I feel in love with snorkelling with Mantra Rays.
I first fell in love with the magical shape of the sail passing below the setting sun. It was different to any sail I was used to seeing. It was upside down to start with, and was small … much, much, much smaller than what I am used to. This photo, looking beyond the forged coastline of Keauhou Bay, was taken on our first night in Kona, Hawaii. My girlfriend and I embraced the warmth of the setting sun and the mild sea breeze, occasionally stopping to take magical photos as we surrendered to our new surroundings.
I wanted to find that boat, see her and hopefully put my feet on her, talk to the crew and go sailing…
This is my story. This is my story of how I fell in love with this beautiful boat that I later learnt as called “Wa’a Kini Kini”, her skipper “Captain Panda” and swimming with Manta Rays.
I spotted an image of the boat on a brochure in the hotel. I grabbed it and eagerly searched for more information.
Kini Kini is a Hawaiian Sailing Canoe. And she is beautiful. She is hand built without a nail, a screw, sealant, nut, bolt, washer etc. OK, there is a little bit of plastic on her. She was found as a wreck and rebuilt about 20 years ago. The two canoes that are lashed together are plastic and I am kind of OK with that. She is beautifully crafted and sits low in the water. The timber and rope securely marry together the canoes which were to transport us to what was to be an unique and intimate experience. Intimate, because they only take 6 people out at a time. Unique, because it is not a commercial plastic boat, a Gin Palace or a “stink-boat” as I have come to know them. And, it is the only Hawaiian sailing boat offering adventures in the Keauhou Bay.
I was so happy and looked at the brochure and found myself drawn to the Manta Rays Snorkel. I was curious. My first insight into swimming with Manta Rays had been through the eyes of Douglas Adams (Think, Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy) and through his eyes I was lost in a world that intrigued me.
I was not sure I really wanted to be in the water on dusk or in the evening. I was concerned about sharks.
Well, I was not so sure but I booked anyway. I seriously wanted to see the Manta Rays.
I turned up early for fear of not finding the right bay. No problems, I was in the right spot. As I chilled and hung out I watched another boat, a trimaran, boarding their passengers for the evening. It is a plastic party boat and it was getting more and more crowded. I told myself I had made a great decision.
And then my boat turned up.
I was so happy. She was under motor, not sail. I was soon to learn that we would only be motoring on this trip. Mental note. Next time, I’ll gather some friends together for an evening sail. But still I was happy.
So, the anticipation began. My attention was drawn from the boat to the crew as they briefed us on what to expect. In a nutshell, you just followed their instructions to get on, where to sit etc, etc, etc. It was simple, easy.
I was already in love with Captain Panda.
She was a little bit shorter than me. She was tanned. Her hair was crazy and fell past her shoulders. She was bare foot and her tattoos reflected her love of the water and the beauty it contains. You could just see the outline for the next tattoo. And she had an awesome sense of humour… She also told every-body I was their good luck charm. I was happy to be the Manta charm.
Chris (aka crew) was totally in tune with her and everything happened seamlessly.
And now my attention was back on the boat, the water and we were motoring the very short distance (5 minutes tops) to the Manta Ray Bay in front of the Sheraton hotel.
We followed instructions like well-trained sheep and jumped into the water. And we let our adventure unfold.
If I was to sum the experience up in one word it would be breath-taking. OK that’s two words and clearly, one word if hyphenated counts. It is irrelevant as I intend to use more words. Breath taking…
Imagine this:
You are in the water, wearing a wet suit jacket and snorkel, holding on to what was best described as an old favourite surfboard with some beautiful and probably expensive lights underneath her. Chris (crew) who could only be described as having legs of steel, is dragging us (remember there are 6 of us holding on to the surfboard straps) from point-to-point to optimise our viewing experience. We are on our own. Free from any fixed attachments to the earth or sea bottom. And Captain Panda is watching from a safe distance. We are at one in the water just floating.
I put my face in the water and the pool noodle under my feet and assume the super woman pose to float looking down into the depths of ocean underneath me. The lights are on. We see their amazing blue light underneath us and we are surrounded by dark. It is almost like a tunnel, however the seabed depth does not change.
It is a very still night.
I hear Chris talking. I tune into his words, “We have our first ray, look ahead.” I gasp in awe. She is doing a graceful roll about 4 meters away from me. I can feel my face grin and my body does an unexpected shiver. It is almost goose-bumpy. I am not cold. The water is beautifully warm. And the I hold my breathe.
While looking over at this beautiful ray, my view is obstructed by a massive glide-by of a ray so close that I feel myself wishing to levitate to avoid touching her. Seriously, she is centimetres away. Majestic, graceful and huge.
She passes and I look down to my left and see two smaller manta rays almost dancing together, spiralling upwards and then rolling away and again a ray comes so close she brushed against my wetsuit. I shiver again. This time I have to get water out of my ear. I am keeping my head slightly tilted, with one ear in the water and one ear out. It is comfortable and easy to hear Chris talk. He is also talking to crews from other boats. They know the rays by sight and can name them.
I am so happy right now. Then I hear “There’s Bertha!”
And the chatter amongst the various crew, “Is it Bertha?” “Yes, it is!” There is excitement. “It is Big Bertha!” She is beautiful and rolls just underneath me. All I can see is her. She has a 4.30 meter (14 feet) wingspan. Everyone is excited. They tell us they believe she is approximately 80 years old. She is magnificent.
—
Side note 1- Rays are identified by their unique markings (spot patterns) on their underside. They have been catalogued. And they love to do these massive rolls, so it is pretty easy to see their markings.
—
So, what transpired over the next 50 minutes was the on-going dance of rays watching the plankton amass under our board and gracefully flying in with their mouths wide open to take their fill.
—
Side note 2 – The Manta Rays come to the lights. Why? Because the lights attract the plankton and the manta rays feed on the plankton.
—
I am in awe. I continue to gasp and occasionally attempt to levitate as they are so close, they occasionally brush us.
There are two distinct memories I wish to share.
The first was of a very large manta ray who had a damaged left cephalic fin (the fin near her mouth) and a scar on the right one. I can’t recall her name. And in my mind, she is “Lefty” (I later found that that was in fact her name). It reminded me, we are in their world and we must be mindful to stay out of their way. I understand she received her injury from a power boat.
The second moment was I recall Chris talking to another crew and saying, “Look at the stars they are amazing” and one of the guys on our board, popping his head out of the water ever so briefly saying something along the lines of, “He can’t he’s looking down.” To which we all giggled.
And all too quickly Chris told us it was time to go. I was the last one out of the water. Happy, glad and grateful.
I don’t recall the short trip back beyond a feeling of contented joy and gratitude.
I’d done this trip the week before and only sighted one ray from a distance and Eka Canoe Adventures have a policy if you don’t see Manta Rays you can come again for free. I’m so glad I went again.
The first trip I took an underwater camera that I had forgotten to work out how to use before hoping on the boat, and realised after talking my glasses off I would not be able to read the instructions. This trip I took my camera, but I forgot I had it strapped to my wrist as I was too engrossed in the experience and when I remembered, I took a couple of photos that I am not sure will turn out. But I got a couple of great photos from someone else. On the way back, Chris offered us hot chocolate, which I declined. I decided to soak in the hotel hot-tub and look at the sky and just be in the moment. And that, is exactly what I did.
We had our pilotage plan and pulled up anchor at 6.45am. We recorded our position, direction, wind etc along the way. Checking in on each way point was different as there were so many channels turns and passages (In fact Navionics told us there were 70) to take as we navigated between the islands as we headed to the Gold Coast. It was very different to anything we had done before and most enjoyable.
The only challenge was we had to go under some powerlines which we had not found when doing our plan. I was terrified we were going to hit and we reversed out just in time. We looked up various sources to find out what the clearance was and could not find anything. We had watched a cat go under and went to where they went under and we had plenty of clearance.
Power nap..
We got to our new marina and our friends Jo and Tim were waiting on our finger ready to catch our lines. Martin docked perfectly first time.
We had arrived and we were exhilarated. It was a brilliant 2 days of challenges and hugely satisfying…
And we enjoyed the best cup of tea on Jo and Tim’s boat. I tried Coco and Chill tea for the first time. It was amazing.
And then a magic powernap back on Phoenix before Bill picked us up and drove us home.
Big thank to John, Carl and Elliot from Sunshine Sailing Australia. Thank you to your brilliant training, your skills and experience, we never panicked.
We either know what to do or sat down and worked together seamlessly and could anticipate each-other’s needs. Both of us took it in turns to do every task. Well almost every task. I let Martin haul in the headsail… We cannot praise you enough for the skills that you have taught us in your theory and practical training. Can’t wait until next time.
Takeaway from our change of pace:
We should have read more about anchoring south of Peel Island and we could have avoided the adventure of Saturday evening. Having said that…
Removing the mast… Yes, we removed the mast yesterday. Why, will be revealed shortly…
To check the video out go to our Facebook page post.
Ok, this post is for John Lloyd who specifically asked me to write a post on removing the mast… and those boys and girls who like big toys, cranes in particular, Lego and jigsaw puzzles… If that is you, read on.
Saturday we had the mast of Saboteur removed. Why? Because the rigging is 17 years old and it is time for new rigging. Also, we want the rigging to last us the next 10 to 15 years. We want it done before we move on to Saboteur. And, if we want insurance for any accidents caused by the rigging, we need to replace it now.
As I revealed in an earlier post, a lot of prep work was done on Friday… The crane was booked for 7 am Saturday morning…
We got up at 6ish expecting David (aka Tubby) to be on the boat to help us take her about to the dock somewhere between 6.30 and 6.45am. In the meantime, we ran a few more things to the car, walked the dingy around the boat and secured her out of the road of us exiting our berth.
Side note: I am wanting to come up with a nickname for the dinghy. A name that relates some way to Saboteur. Any suggestions are welcome. I suspect Martin thinks I am a little crazy, but he knows that to be true. I digress..
—
At about 7.10 Martin received a call asking where are you? We are waiting for you.
Miscommunication, misunderstanding, call it want you like it does not matter… and before you knew it one of our “almost” neighbours offered to help us take the boat around (news travels fast or they heard Martin on the phone, again it does not matter) just at the same time a dinghy turns up carrying Dave and Fitz who, we were soon to learn, are Masters at their craft.
John (Lloyd, yes you) to answer your question why we were not taking Saboteur around ourselves. There are two reasons, East Coast Marina is a maze that blends into Royal Queensland Yacht Club and the working docks and we do not know our way around. The second reason, we have yet to manoeuvre her much ourselves and she is significantly different to our 34 ft Duncanson. The difference, 34 ft to 47 ft. 6 tonnes to 18 tonnes.
And now is not the time to stuff it up…
So, we crewed for Dave as he took her the very short distance. We rounded the corner to see the crane was set up, outrigger beams holding her securely in-place and waiting for us. As we approached the dock, I admired Dave’s skill to dock her so perfectly. And that was just the beginning…
Fitz had scooted ahead of us in the dinghy. And by the time we were docking he was on the dock ready to catch the lines we threw his way.
Then Dave and Fitzy set to work helped by Martin and me with the “every ready” camera in hand… The process went more or less along the lines of…
But first, a disclaimer… I’m not an engineer, crane operator, rigger etc – so, any technical errors, please forgive or provide correction to improve clarity. Either or I am OK with.
Stage 1 – Prep work (done Friday)
Stage 2 – Detaching weather veins and other equipment from the top of the mast.
To do this, Fitz hops into what is called a bosons chair (could be likened to a toddler’s swing seat) which is attached to a halyard (a line) that is connected to electric winch… And viola, Fitz is carefully raised up approximately 17 meters from the top of the deck to get to the top of the mast. This process took approximately three and a half minutes. Once at the desired height (brakes on) he disconnected the weathervane and I am not sure what else.
Stage 3 – Placing the sling on the mast so the crane can take the load.
Fitzy is lowered a couple of meters to the mast separator’s (brakes on) and then the crane’s hook complete with a couple of slings is carefully manoeuvred towards Fitzy. This is coordinated by Dave giving instruction to the crane driver by the gentlest of hand gestures. Both Dave and the driver come across as a very polished team.
It makes Martin and my attempt at arm gestures pointing to the direction of the anchor chain seem amateurish. Meanwhile, I am enjoying watching the brilliant skills that are unfolding in front of me.
Side note 1: I keep looking at the crane operator trying to work out where I knew him from.
Side note 2: Rob Brown texts us asking us to join him for breakfast at Café leMer (Manly) the café in the Marina. And then wanting to check out the boat. I text back saying sounds great…We will be about an hour…
All off a sudden I was super hungry. Last night’s dinner was cheese, biscuits and champagne… nice…
Back to Fitz, Dave and the crane operator…
The sling is delivered to Fitz and he removes one end of the sling from the crane hook and wraps it around the mast below the separator and then replaces the end of the sling in the hook. Impressive… I would probably have dropped something by now.
They raise the crane jib (arm) enough to test the sling is secure. Success.
Dave is lowered down the mast. He jumps out of the bosons chair and heads below deck.
Stage 4 – Taking the load.
Dave starts providing instructions for the crane operator to start taking the load. They are happy the crane has the mast secured. Dave, Fitzy and Martin start to release all the stays and lines that hold the mast in place.
Stage 5 – Removing the boom
The boom was disconnected from the mast. Fitz and Martin passed the boom up to Dave and myself and we carry it to the trailer. This is the first time I really looked at the trailer and man she is seriously long.
Stage 6 – Initiating lift.
It appears they need a little more force to get the mast to release from the base plate. Dave and the operator are discussing the pressure levels… It got up to 900 ??? Dave did not like it. They brought the pressure back to 500 and gradually took it up to 700… It appears to be stuck. Not sure why, but Dave figured out and then there was movement. Gradually the mast started rising.
Stage 7 – Clearing the cabin.
The mast clears the cockpit and the crane operator holds her steady over the deck while Dave, Fitzy and Martin tie the stays and lines together. They all get strapped to the mast.
—
Side note conversation:
Dave says to Martin, you’re really going to have fun on this boat, she is a beauty.
Martin: I don’t know if I am excited or poor or both.
Dave: Probably a bit of both.
I giggle.
I am now also getting seriously hungry.
Quick text to Rob, we will be 30 minutes late.
—
Stage 8 – Carrying the mast to the trailer
And so, our mast gradually rose up away from the cockpit and carefully continued to rise over the dock towards the trailer. One seriously long trailer for a seriously long mast. We learnt later that day the mast was 21.3 meters.
Again, it was magic to watch Dave and the crane operator move the mast to location.
Stage 9 – Rotating the mast from vertical to horizontal position.
A piece of dunnage (timber) is placed on the ground for the mast to rest on. I am sure it is years of experience to know exactly where to put the dunnage. And the mast is carefully, carefully placed on the edge of the timber not to crush any electrical cables sticking out the bottom of her. With mastery Dave, Fitzy and the crane operator lower the mast to the trailer. And Dave and Fitz set about securing the mast and the boom to the trailer. Meanwhile gaffer tape is used to secure high-vis-vests to the end of the mast and the spreaders. It works…
Meanwhile, the crane operator is lowering his jib, securing his hook block, bringing in the outrigger beams and securing the blocks they rested on.
—
I look at Martin and wonder what is going through his head. This process is costing a lot of money. However, we chose to see it as in investment.
He wonders over, and says doesn’t the operator look like Ben Lowe… Yes, spitting image and his mastery of the crane is equal to Ben’s mastery of his bike.
—
And so, Dave jumps back on Saboteur and Fitzy in the dinghy. We crew for Dave and once again we have a master class in docking… And learnt a new way to reverse Saboteur into her berth.
I love how our neighbours all jump to the ready to catch the lines we throw them and secure her in her berth.
—
We head out to meet Rob for breakfast.
I was seriously hungry and had the best eggs benedict with ham on gluten free bread accompanied by an almond milk flat white. God it tasked good.
Before our meals arrived, we discussed the possibility of rain and how to cover the now very big hole in the centre of our boat.
Martin looked up the rain radar. No problems the rain is in Ipswich, however the clouds behind us told another story. Martin went back to the boat to cover her and arrived back just as his breakfast was put on the table. We eat and chatted and then the first rains drops fell.
We walked back to Saboteur and proudly showed Rob our new home. She did not look quite right without her mast and associated trappings, but she still looked amazing.
We went below deck, made a cuppa, put some music on and chilled out for a while. Rob even had a power nap…
What would happen if your anchor started sliding in the middle of the night?
No. Me neither, until I had completed the Sunshine Sailing Australia course a few weeks ago. Well, training turned into reality…
The calm before…
What follows, most mothers don’t want to read about, but it’s is true. It is as much a thank you to John, Carl and Elliot from sunshine sailing school as it is a story of our adventures for our friends…
Que music: Rob Stewart singing I am sailing
OK… Martin and I decided to move our boat a 34 ft Duncanson “Phoenix 7” from Newport (North of Brisbane) to the Gold Coast City Marina (South of Brisbane).
Up until this trip, the sailing we had done on Phoenix was straight out of the Marina mucking around in the wide-open waters of Moreton Bay. Nothing but open space and plenty of deep water.
So, pilotage and planning was not really necessary for an afternoon of sailing.
Having recently completed the RYA Day Skipper Theory and Practical Course through Sunshine Sailing School and were actually planning an over-night trip that required navigating through channels, shallows, ferry’s, fishing vessels, and an increasing number of jet skis the closer we got to the Gold coast, we did our pilotage plan and prepped for our voyage. Our adventures follow…
Our friend Rob kindly dropped us off at Newport Marina and stuck around until we cast off. Perhaps with the view to video us stuffing up reversing out of our finger and heading out the marina. No problems there. Elliot you taught us well.
We set out to sail more or less south…OK, we knew we were going to have strong winds in the afternoon. And we were both comfortable with that so we planned to sail with only the headsail. At that time we were doing 6-7 knots most of the way and really enjoying surfing the waves on Phoenix…
We were very disciplined in recording our position, direction, wind etc and checking in with our next way point on the hour every hour and dropped a mark on our Garmin (GPS navigational device). Not sure how to retrieve it yet but it seemed like a good idea at the time.
Fade music…
We were enjoying the sail so much we missed our planned turn.
Our depth finder reflected the shallows we were starting to cross. We needed to turn into the wind quickly. I mean very quickly. We turned the motor on and hauled in the headsail. For the non-sailor, this process transitions from a smooth and quiet ride when sailing to a very loud and rough ride as the sail flaps rigorously as Martin hauled in the headsail.
It all happens very quickly. A couple of minutes tops.
And your feel like you are now in a different universe. Same winds, same seas. The only difference was direction. We motored west with the waves smacking our side for a short while until we could turn south again and motor with the waves on our stern. All in all we had sailed and motored for approximately 6 hours.
We did not want to sail to far or be too tired.
We decided to anchor south of Peel Island to have overnight shelter from the Northerly’s. Sounded like a good idea at time. We checked the weather and we know the wind was going to do 180% turn during the night. We know it would be still be strong, but …
We anchored, after a couple of attempts. It was hard to get the anchor to get a sound hold. Again, great teaching Elliot. We set the anchor alarm. I took some photos of the various vessels around us to use as checks if we were drifting. We settled in – cooked a yummy dinner and a nice hot cup of tea and enjoyed relaxing on the water and the night lights of North Stradbroke Island and the mainland. It was a very dark night. About 10pm I went to bed. Martin was going to sleep in the cockpit “in case anything happened”.
Que music, Little River Band singing I feel a cool change arising.
At 12.30am Martin woke me up and said, something is not right. It was calm, dead calm. He put the kettle on, and we were going to sit and talk about, the “Calm.” We check the weather report, no different. We had turned 180 degrees as expected. Our stern was now facing the shore. I checked my photos and we had not moved.
Fade music
All I can hear it the intensity of the wind and the waves…
Then there was a Pan, Pan (this is like a May Day, but no danger to people or vessel) from another yacht.
They had been next to us and had drifted. They could not get their motor started. We later learnt that they had only entered the bay as they had engine trouble. They were grounded. We jumped on the radio and offered if they wanted to come aboard Phoenix they could. They chose to stay on their yacht.
The next thing we noticed was about 4 or 5 smaller motor craft had lifted anchor and headed out of the bay.
Then a yacht on our starboard side started sliding towards the coast very quickly. We could not see anyone on deck or cabin lights on so we could only assume they were asleep, I grab the horn and tried to get their attention. It was very dark… and we could not read their vessel name or see them on the nav system.
By this stage Martin had started our engine and had it in neutral, “just in case”. The seas were huge, and it was rough.
And then… our anchor alarm went off and we were sliding towards the shore.
The anchor itself was still “anchored” but is was dragging due to the force of the winds and water. I went to the bow of the boat which was challenging in these seas and scary. Because in the moment I could not find the safety line to clip myself on to the boat. S##T
Side note: 1. Safety line must be immediately handy (in the cockpit)
Side note 2. I realised later the safety line was not on the boat.
Why, because we had stripped the boat when all the reno work was done and it was now looking like the safety line was safely on dry land in my car and accidently got left behind with a bag of books I was planning to take. Bah, humbug!
So, imagine this – hanging on, it is very dark…. looking for the angle the anchor is at…
…to give Martin direction as to which way to attempt to manevour the boat (weather permitting) and giving instructions with my arm directions. Holding a torch instead of my head lamp (also not on the boat). This took some time and coordination.
The anchor was coming up… we were getting there and then the anchor chain got caught.
Unbelievable right… I did not know how to un-catch it.
Believe it or not it is simple – and obvious – I should I have lower it a little. Not so obvious in the moment and if you have not done it before.
Anyway, back to me hanging on for dear life. Martin and I swapped positions. He said, don’t worry about me if I fall over-board. At least you know I will end up on the shore. Ha, so not funny. That might fix one problem, but I would still have to handle the Phoenix on my own…
Yeh success… anchor is up
We are under power and we head out of the anchorage. Martin is on the helm and I am looking at the charts of the nearest sheltered spot we could get to.
We decide to head to a small anchorage on the north-west side on Russell Island. It is about 2.30am. Did I mention it was dark? It is dark. There is no moon. And the seas are big. There is no rain, just big seas and winds…
We approached our potential new anchorage and we know it was shallow. It was not really well lit and we know there were rocks in a couple of locations… We did not feel confident going in. Maybe it was nerves, maybe it was the unknown etc. As I write it does not make sense why we did not go in and have a look but it was really hard to see anything. Rocks are not a good look… and low tide was at 4am. When we decided on a new beginning and going liveaboard we had not ever experience anything like this before and had to get through the night.
We knew we have plenty of fuel and decided simply to motor up and down a recommend small craft channel and planned to go into the anchorage at first light. Which we did. We were frozen. I made a lovely hot cuppa tea. Followed by an omelette. We sat down with our cuppa and watched the sun rise. It was beautiful and calm…
The day was calm, flat beautiful…
Again, no music… I was loving the peacefulness and calm… Even if we were a little tired…
