This sprint to the finish I have sailed more than 25 times so I knew my way home but did I know the weather and what was waiting on the route?
The weather forecast showed that a good NE wind would be blowing on the Saturday and reach 25 to 30 knots during the nights but it was with me and the current was also in my favour. The speed to beat was 9.5 over the ground set off Port Stephens in the last leg and I knew I would easily do this on this leg.
Now this is 160 nm at about 6 knots that would take a day and a half at most. I moved from the Fish Market and sailed over to Middle Harbour and picked up a mooring right along the shoreline. The local yacht club was having a sponsors race so it was filled with yachts and very smart crew not sitting on the rail but holding a glass of the local bubble stuff or on some real champagne.
I had prepared a few nights meals and tucked into one as the sun set. Again I set the alarm for before dawn and when it went off I was off and running with one reef in the main and a poled out genoa.
I soon cleared the heads and set a course past Port Botany and directly to the Sir John Banks banks to the north of Jervis Bay. Now my normal course going north is inside the banks and under normal conditions I would go 5 nm out to sea from the banks to get round the very rough conditions associated with the great East Australian current hitting the shallow banks which come up from 120 m to less than 12 meters. You can imaging the turbulence as this stream of water flowing from 2 to 4 knots hits the shallow water of rocks.
I have passed this point many times before and in many wind conditions but this time was an a different experience. The wind had increased and the waves while not ocean swells size were quite big but nothing Malua’s autopilot could not handle but the confused seas were something else to behold. They seem to come from every direction. Breaking over the bow, stern and even jumping on board from the port side. A tug steaming north call on the radio a similar company tug seaming south to have a chat then asked why he was so close to the banks and he should turn more out to sea. I was tracking him on the AIS all the way down the coast and immediately after the communication he turned and headed out to sea for calmer waters. I staid my course.
I was committed so I continued knowing Malua was on a roll and I had beaten the top speed record when I reached 10.8 knots SOG. Decision again. Should I continue and reach Bermagui during the night because now at 5:30pm I would arrive at dawn or even predawn and I would have to wait till the sun was up to enter the Bermi river mouth with a raging NE wind and swell. I, as always, took the prudent decision and jibes at the entrance to Jervis Bay in the lee of Point Perpendicular and steamed into 25 knots of wind to the northern shore of the bay at Long Beach to take a break. I arrived after dark to find a catamaran with all lights on and a much smaller sailing vessel anchored near the shore. I have thrown the pick in this area before so I knew that one had to drag the anchor in because it often got fouled on sea grass. With the strong wind and a depth of 10 meter I let out the normal 40 meter and started to pull back on the anchor but it kept coming. So up anchor and I immediately noticed the SQR had speared a cockle shell right at the tip so it would not hold. Up to the bow with the hammer to release the shell and start again. Down went the chain and I pulled back. The SQR and 50 m of chain held and I set the anchor alarm and proceeded to get Malua ready for the next leg of the journey.
Alarm went off at dawn – no point in early start as I only had about 80 nm to run to Bermagui. I checked the latest weather forecast and BOM indicated that the wind would reach 35 knots along the Batemans and Eden coast. The temptation was to wait and see what the next day would bring. On this occasion prudence did not make a planning decision but when I set sail I did put two reefs in the main and furled the genoa on a pole well before I exited the calm but windy Jervis Bay.
I flew out of the Bay and headed for a straight line for Montague knowing I would be about 10 nm off shore and well in the southern flowing current and the ocean swells that accompanied two days of strong wind. Little did I know what the ocean had in store for me off Batemans Bay and further south.
I had kept the boom on the starboard side as the wind was from the NE but as I sailed further south the distance from the coast got more and more as I tried to not have to jibe in the current conditions. Malua was handling the swell and wind well although it was obvious that I had too much sail up and I was about to do a jibe. I prepared to jibe by undoing the preventer and moving it to the port side then started to pull the main in via the electric sheet winch. At the critical point I turned the auto pilot to turn to starboard and the wind got behind the sail and it came over – not with the bang I expected but with a genital flop. Out went the sheet, correct the course and connect the preventer and we were off and running again but this time the waves had built to 4 or 5 meters . I know it is difficult to estimate the height of the sea as one faces down a water slope with the horizon almost completely covered in spray but on this occasion I knew the sea was big as a crest rolled down the hill and right into Malua’s cockpit. No water down below (washboards in) but it wet my granny seat!
The autopilot alarm went off as I sat in the captain chair and watched the dials and wind speed indicator. On the second occasion even with two reefs in the main and no sail for of the mast I knew we were over-canvased. What to do with only 40 nm to go to Bermagui. So I stepped into the cockpit and took control of Malua as we surfed down the face of the waves and swell. I have not done this oftem and had not realised the effort it takes to keep a long keeled boat on trach with too much sail up. Malua wanted to round up into the wind as we reached the botton of the swell so one has to anticipate what will happen. With all my effort on the large wheel I lent on the spokes and kept the bow on course and down the waves. This continues for a while and then the wind started to ease and the autopilot took over. We settled down for the final straight to the finish but there was more to come.
What to do was the decision to be made. Continue to head for Bermagui and a potentially dangerous bar entrance with seas breaking over the entrance or slow down and wait for either the wind to drop or sail on to Eden. Now I am a great supporter of technology but my confidence in NSW Maritime is very very low so when I fired up the computer and switched to the NSW Maritime Bar camera for Bermagui and saw a small swell with about 17 knots of wind I thought they must be playing yesterdays video. I stuck my head outside and yes the wind indicator showed 35 knots of wind and the sea and swell big SO what was going on. I again checked the Windy app at a more detailed resolution and saw that there was a patch of calm wind along the coast which I had never seen before. What is going on?
I set a course close to Montague so that I could drop the main in the lee of the island but as I approached the island the wind started to drop from 35 knots to 20 knots and then in the 15 knot range. The Maritime bar camera could be right. I phoned a friend. “Can you tell me what the Bermagui bar is like?” Sorry I am 20 km away. My second lifeline did not answer so I thought maybe windy app was right. there is a pressure difference along the coast as a system moves north. Take a chance and go for it.
About one mile off the entrance I turned up wind into 12 knots of wind and a moderate sea and swell and took the main down, furled the genoa and staysail and put in the washboards again to cross the bar. I have a course I use which takes a curve towards the beach then moves west of the leads and come in as close to the western break-wall as I feel safe. I adjust my speed to try to time a lull in the swell. I saw my chance and increased the engine revs and held the wheel with both hands as I aimed for my entry course. As I passed the headland I looked up and saw a few people standing watching me enter. Peter S holding his camera. The below photos is thanks to Peter. One of the most dramatic shots of Malua that has been taken.
I entered the harbour, lowered the fenders and made sure all the prepared docking lines where ready and headed for my berth. A group of friends: Jim, Keith and Peter were ready to take my lines as Malua nosed into her berth. We were home. The whole trip had been a sailing success with nothing on the boat breaking. A great result. Malua had lived up to the reputation of the great thoroughbred horse from Tasmania.
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