So far, it's been a rough passage.
As you know, Cleone is a dry boat. She is heavy for her size,
with a small central cockpit that is well protected by the fixed, not very
pretty but eminently practical, doghouse. We are not used to being deluged
by floods of salt water, though the helmsman inevitably gets wet when it
rains. And it has so far - everywhere - been warm enough to be able to
stand and get wet in your shirt-sleeves then dry off in the breeze. This
time it has been different, and we have been wearing full oilskins for the last
48 hours. Crossing the Gulf of Carpantaria the wind built
steadily, and by nightfall of the second day we had put in the third reef
on the mainsail, got rid the mizzen and rolled away all but a
pocket-handkerchief of the genoa. For a day and a half, the wind blew at a
steady 30 to 35 knots (Beaufort 7-8), gusting every so often to even higher
speeds. The wind was out of the south east. The Gulf of Carpantaria
is shallow, but the bay itself opens deep into the north of Queensland.
The long fetch enabled a big, steep sea to build up, with breaking crests dotted
haphazardly amongst the chop. Cleone rode this awkward sea impurturbably,
rolling her stern over the wave before sliding down comfortably the other
side. But every so often, a sea larger than the average eight to ten feet
would come along at an awkward angle, or a crest would break just as we topped
it. Water would then come pouring down from the foredeck to escape
harmless over the side, or would slop directly into the cockpit. With two
of us, we have been doing thrre-hour watches in the night and four in the
day-time. At one stage, the helmsman would get doused at irregular
intervals of about 5 minutes. Luckily we have not been cold, but there is
an air of semi-permanent dampness at the moment.
Happily, as last night wore on, the wind gradually moderated, and by this
morning it has settled down to a gusty twenty five knots or so (Beaufort
6). We have been able to unfurl a little more of the genoa, and we are
making a drier and more comfortable passage. Wind and water regardless,
our progress has been good. We made nearly 150 miles towards Darwin on Day
2, and a similar total on Day 3. The Skipper's mind is starting to wrestle
with the connundrum of the Darwin Tides, as the last hundred miles or so is very
much affected by them. Timing will be crucial, but quite how we will
manage it is anyone's guess at the moment! And we are also wondering what
the Hygine Authority will do to poor Cleone; we have been threatened with more
food throw-aways and we know that our salt water systems will be flushed
out. Quite why is anyone's guess, the latter are long full of fresh Aussie
sea-water! But the process will delay our move into one of Darwin's
expensive and said-to-be-comfortable marinas by some 16 hours whist the magic
potion takes effect. We must spend these hours swinging at anchor, so
there will be plenty of time to report back.
We have seen very little traffic since the first day, apart from a distant
yacht that passed us going south to north - where on earth from and to - and a
little RAN (Royal Australian Navy) patrol boat that shadowed us suspiciously for
a while. We knew he was nearby because one of the ever-watchful Coastwatch
planes called him up and demanded to know who he was! His cover - if any -
was blow instantly. The Australian government watches its coast carefully,
and they probably have a very good idea of exactly who is in the country and how
they got there. I wonder if the UK Government can make the same
claim?
All well with us, and best wishes to
everyone.
James and Norfy (Chris)
Yacht Cleone