Preparations for the Summer Cruise

 Winter is now over and the Kayak project is complete with the launching in Canberra and test paddle in Malua Bay.  So now preparing for the sail of the summer around Tasmania.

Just like the last dream trip, a lot of work had gone into Eye Candy prior to our leaving to cross Bass Strait, but in that case Andrew had done the work.  It was now my turn to prepare Malua for the summer.

I asked the local Jubb slip if he could haul Malua out and antifoul it.  As expected he said the first week in April the following year, so I said that would suit me just fine—so let's set the day.  I called his bluff, at which point he got annoyed and told me to leave his boat yard, just as he had done on two previous occasions.  I always give the locals a chance, but not again.

As you would have expected, I had my Plan A, so the following day Jim G and I set off for Wollongong harbour.  The wind came up from the south as we headed off for Jervis Bay and our first overnight stop.  The next day we were off around Point Perpendicular and up the coast, by which time the wind had risen to well over 25 knots from the west.  A few reefs in the sail and some flat sea and we were steaming along towards Wollongong.  We arrived and pulled up onto the courtesy mooring and went ashore to the slip.  We found the Pasadena Star, a steel fishing boat on the large cradle with a number of large square holes cut in the hull and the welder Henry trying to cut and close the rust that almost sunk the vessel.

This delayed us a few days.  They finally launched it on a Friday, so I could only go up on the slip on Saturday.  No worries—Jim took the bus back to Bermagui and I went to visit Nicola at Fairy Meadow.  I returned to Malua every night as I was moored alongside a fishing boat belonging to a cousin of Tony and Charlie L from Ulladulla—small world.

Work started on Malua after it had been very well pressure washed soon after coming out of the water on Saturday.  Monday was a quick touch up of some undercoat and good clean of the waterline, and they were off spraying 80 to 20 mix of blue and black Seavictor 50 Jotun antifoul onto Malua.

The Swedish shipwright did a very good job while the other did all the masking of the through hulls, waterline and cleaning the prop.  That was finished by noon and then he started on the Propspeed for the propeller.  The clearcoat went on and next the zinc anode, and we were ready to go back in the water but had to wait eight hours for the Propspeed and the tide.

Tuesday dawned and we were ready to go but had to wait for the high tide, which was about noon.

The two shipwrights and I got on Malua after clearing away the sand from the slip rails, and the large cradle started to run down the rails into the water. Malua is rather light for the large cradle, so it did not run all the way to the end stops and we had to wait for the tide to rise before Malua floated off back into its natural environment.  I dropped the fellows at the wharf and headed out into the sea for a trip south.  I pulled into Jervis Bay for the night and out the following day to get into Batemans Bay before a very strong gale force wind came off the land about 1:00 that day.

The wild windy Wednesday hit me just as I was about to enter Batemans Bay with a force of 47 knots. The spray was coming off the sea in sheets.  It was the most violent wind I have experienced in Australia.  I had dropped all the sails as I saw it coming and tried to motor around Yellow Rock up into the Clyde River mouth of Batemans Bay.  Malua would not make any headway at all.  I had to keep the bow directly into the wind or else I would lose direction and be blown off course.

I tried sheltering behind the Tollgate Islands but that did not work, so I moved to Black Rock, but again the wind was too strong to motor into it.  I eventually turned and headed for Bermagui with the wind on the beam and a good run down the coast.

At Montague the wind dropped, but the swell and confused sea made the last 12 nm into Bermagui a very violent and uncomfortable ride home. I entered the harbour in the dark but with little wind and came alongside to be welcomed by Macca.  What a trip.

I now had almost a month prior to Christmas to polish the topsides, add a few extras and to get the inside of Malua ready for a three-month long cruise to Tasmania.

Was that a dream or even maybe a short video I watched? BUT no, the trip from Eden to Tasmania across Bass Strait was real on board Eye Candy.

It was four days in duration with a good night's sleep as an interval to travel the 360 nm from Eden in NSW to Orford, Prosser Bay in Tasmania. There were just two people on board a 39 ft Bavaria production yacht.

You and I may well ask: why did it go so well? What factors came into play for us to cross the infamous Bass Strait with such apparent ease? How come it went so well? There are a number of factors, so stay with me.

The key factor is timing. Yes, not sailing to a schedule like the Sydney to Hobart Race. Andrew and I had been studying the weather patterns for more than a month. Originally for him and Claire to cross Bass Strait. We concluded that at the beginning of February there was not a good window for him to cross, so he sailed from Eden to Bermagui and put Eye Candy in the marina and returned home. He returned to the yacht and sailed with a northerly to Eden but had to wait ten days before a short window opened. Claire, who has sailed extensively in the Med, crossed the Atlantic, cruised the Caribbean and then the East coast of the USA including going through a Cyclone. Eye Candy passed through the Panama canal and spent a full year in the Pacific before a further year in the islands of New Caledonia, Fiji and Vanuatu before arriving in Australia. Well, as one gets older, your outlook and tolerance for cold and wet nights decreases, so she decided to take the big bird to Tassie.

Andrew called on me to join him as we had been watching the weather, and I knew the risks and how wide the window actually was. We talked through three options for the passage. Plan A, a straight line course from Eden to Triabunna. Plan B was developed the day before we left, which included a stop in the Furneaux Group to hide from a Southerly front that swept up from the south, but that strategy depended on the tide between the islands near Cape Barren Island. Lastly, we had Plan C, which also depended on our average speed crossing the Strait (we originally estimated our speed to be 6 knots). If we achieved that or better, we could hide from the southerly change around Eddystone light or Binalong Bay, north of St Helens. So we had a few plans we could fall back on as we progressed south.

The second factor is boat preparation. This is more than sitting at your desk with a to-do list and ticking off the various essential items in the marina. It is real live sailing on the vessel in all conditions. Now Malua has spent some time in the marina, so I can't at the moment say all systems are working; however, Eye Candy has been sailing for months on end since arriving in Australia. So I stepped aboard knowing that the autopilot worked, the rudder had been maintained, and all the normal systems worked. I also knew, just like I do on Malua, the sailing – yes, the sails, halyards, and sheets were in the right places, had marks on them where they should sit when you hoisted the spinnaker pole or other sail. And furthermore, Andrew could do all of these operations by himself. All I had to do was turn the handle and the main went up or pull in the brace on the pole. Now, there are a number of things on Eye Candy I would not do; for example, I don't like anything to be on the foredeck, especially when I raise the spinnaker pole either for the big bag, reacher, or more frequently attached to the genoa. Andrew likes it because he can sit on it to raise and take down the pole.

As I found out during and after the trip, everything worked, nothing broke, and more importantly, we did not have to rush to adjust or untangle a sheet or line (One issue with the new sail, but rather my lack of knowledge rather than an issue). So, as I always say, practice, practice, and men and boat rot while in harbour, so get out and sail.

A further factor which I rate high on my list is Food and Sleep. Let's take the latter first. It is not the ability to stay awake during a passage, although while on watch, that is essential, but the ability to fall asleep instantly when you come off watch. Like the above, I say practice. Yes, but I sleep every night... Yes, you do, but I bet you have a routine. Dinner, some TV, maybe a shower, and then into bed with a book for a few minutes, then the light goes out and you fall asleep. It is that routine that lets you sleep. Well, try going to sleep on a full stomach or maybe with the chainsaw running just outside your window. So practice, practice, and note which suits you best. Then on the boat, do the same. I have a routine which suits me, so after three deep breaths, I am asleep.

Now food. Remember, falling asleep, not staying awake, is the mantra. So no coffee or tannin-based tea on the passage. I drink instant miso soup and Rooibos tea. It suits me well. Food is the next essential. Three or, as I have, four meals in 24 hours. Sunrise and sunset and noon and midnight. Any style of food is suitable, but not chilly, but something which is eaten in a soup bowl with a spoon. I prepare stews and boil rice or small potatoes and add a veg for the last few minutes.

Claire had prepared four meals in true five-star chef style, and all I had to do was open the vacuum bag and reheat in a wok. A delight and a variety of tastes I had not previously experienced. The photos is our arrival meal I prepared with chip additions from the local take-away.

Lastly, no chocolate or sugar-based muesli bars. You get a sugar hit and a high and come down with a bang. Either during your watch or on the high when you are trying to go to sleep.

The last factor is the on-passage knowledge. Yes, knowing where you are, when you reach a waypoint, and where the other hard objects are relative to your progress. Wind and waves are included. For the latter, to put in a reef before the 30-knot front hits. In my case, don't catnap when you are sailing towards the shore. The list goes on, but it does not depend on your phone or tablet for navigation. I am not talking of pilotage into a bay but open ocean navigation. I only use these devices as a backup and for pilotage. A good chart plotter or, in my case, two small Raspberry Pi computers running independently on 12-volt power, each with their own GPS, are the primary systems. One with an AIS and the other connected into the chartplotter backbone for wind and depth. My Vesper Marine AIS is also standalone and flashes and screams when the CPA is less than 2 miles.

Eye Candy has the standard Raymarine system, which is adequate, but they drain the battery, and the screen is cluttered, and even I find it difficult understanding the logic of the menu system. The MOB is hidden in a menu.

The final word on this dream is always a bit of luck. As a famous sportsman said, the more you practice, the luckier you get. I believe in that, and with Andrew's extensive sailing experience, not only cruising but in big fast boats, and mine added, the odds of a dream passage were high, and we did it.

Thanks, Andrew and Claire, for the experience.

PS The last factor which is a given, know the boat, its systems and how it handles the conditions and when to reef and take over steering.  Also how to fix the small things like a loose fan belt or wire.  

Arrival dinner I cooked with chips from local take away