Eden treated us well, and while we had 35 knot winds forecast, we scurried from one side of Twofold Bay to the other as the wind went from a balmy Northerly through to a chilly Southerly. 
My anchoring skills are obviously improving because we had no trouble holding in either spot, although we always found a nice sandy bottom to dig into. Tucked inside the Woodchip and Navy wharves, we watched as a big cargo ship was loaded, 24 hours a day for four or five days straight, with good Aussie hardwood logs, probably straight from our nearby National Parks. Meanwhile, the Japanese-owned woodchip mill over our shoulders was spurting out more trees after they'd been converted to chips. Don't get me started.

We'd planned on a pre-dawn departure from Eden on the Friday, and up until Thursday night the weather reports all looked very mellow. Until Thursday night, when they started issuing Dangerous Surf Advisory warnings for the NSW coast. Which made for a sleepless night, with visions of a nightmare crossing into the Bermagui Harbour. I kept seeing, in my mind, the YouTube clip I'd seen a few months previously. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mfj5sOTgMpc 
But, in the morning, things felt smooth and we motored out of Eden's broad bay in gentle conditions with a small swell.
Fortunately, just ahead of the Korean bulk carrier's departure, and also just ahead of the Navy ship HMAS Melbourne, which was heading into our anchorage and would've chucked us out anyway.
While it was a slightly uncomfortable run North, with a following wind making it awkward to get the right sail combination, and being a bit "rolly" with swell. But it proved an easy run, and we romped along, motorsailing up to 7 knots at times, with lots of dolphins and sea birds keeping an eye on us. 
We arrived into an idyllic Bermagui not too long after the high tide and enjoyed a soft, gentle swell entry. 
Settling down to an afternoon nap, we were surprised to receive a text from  our Geelong friends, Kerryn and John Peirce, aboard "Esoterica", to let us know they'd soon be arriving from Bittangabee Bay and had been advised to raft up to our boat. So that was a pleasant surprise, and with friends of theirs from the catamaran "Gemini Lady" we all adjourned to the pub for dinner.

So, while I did have a headache in the morning, I wasn't prepared for the sight of the harbour entrance, which was exactly what I'd been dreading during my awful sleep the night before leaving Eden. Solid waves with a raucous new swell, closing out across the bar. I couldn't even convince myself to surf, it was just a little too wild looking. (Wooss!) If we had've arrived with that swell running, it would've been a nightmare crossing.
Fortunately it was it's normal benign self again the next morning for our friends to depart for points North, while we settled into the rhythm of the harbour. We're due to meet our old friend Bill Shum here later in the week, so are content to wait for the next burst of Southerly winds for our own departure.

It's a beautiful little place, tucked away off the main Pacific Highway, and we're rafted up to an old trawler on the main Fisherman's Wharf with a ready supply of tasty fish n chips, hot showers and all the luxuries of town close at hand. I did manage a little surf around the corner after the swell had dropped, too!

It's a busy, working port so there's ready access to power, fuel and water on the dock, and we're right in the middle of a very industrious little  fleet. Longliners head out for a few days at a time, laying their deadly hooks outside of the Continental shelf and hauling in big striped marlin, shark and yellowfin tuna. All destined for the Sydney Fish Markets. 
So whether it's our native forests or the ocean's bounty, there's always somebody ready to harvest it and bring it to market.

Our original plan, which had been stuck on the wall in the boat's cabin for the past year or so,  had been to arrive in Bermagui at the end of January. Well, now it's almost the end of March and we've only just arrived. I wonder if there's a medal for the Slowest Cruisers?
We're happily wandering around town and generally just soaking it all in. Took the bus into Bega yesterday for the princely sum of $2.50 return, and today took a walk to the Blue Pool. It's a beautiful, naturally-fed rock pool at the base of the cliffs facing the Pacific Ocean. (Why can't Torquay have one of these?)

And I was pleased to win Second Prize in this month's "Cruising Helmsman" magazine's photo competition with a shot from Refuge Cove.....after getting the cover shot a couple of issues ago.....which, coincidentally, I'd shot in Bermagui during our delivery trip two years previously.

Well, we made it around the corner and into the appropriately-named Eden, under sunny skies and a gentle ocean.
Our newly-recruited crew member, "Bandicoot" Pete Malone, was a wonderful confidence-booster and his knowledge and experience was much better than anticipated. While he's not actually a peg-legged pirate, he is disabled from a motorcycle accident in his youth, and moves around on land aboard a three-wheel tricycle. As a sailor he's not much chop, but as a pro fisherman and holder of a Cat 5 master's ticket, he knows how to handle a boat and point it in the right direction. He knows his stuff.

It was an early 5.00 a.m. start and we had an easy exit over the Bar, turned gradually left and motored along an almost windless ninety-mile beach under sunny skies all day. The weather was so gentle, that we decided to stop overnight at the remote Gabo Island. It's a fair-weather anchorage only, so not many yachts get the chance to visit. 
We arrived in absolute pitch-darkness, and Pete's presence was a godsend. While I was navigating on my ipad, which is mounted at the helm, Pete took care of the radar plotter, and we monitored them both to ensure they matched up. There's a lighthouse on the island, and there's a single light on a little jetty. They're the only reference points, and the instruments brought us in. 
While I was busy on the front of the boat organising the anchor in the dark, we drifted in a little, and Mary, wielding the spotlight, lit up a wall of rock in front of us. But we simply backed her out a bit and dropped the pick, checked that we had stuck, set the anchor watch alarm, and went to bed for a great night's sleep.
In the dawn light, we were pleased to see that we were positioned perfectly in the centre of the little bay, exactly where the instruments had told us we were supposed to be.

So it was up and off again at dawn. (We could've left earlier, but I wanted to have a look at where we'd arrived in the light.)
Around the bottom of Gabo Island and turn North. Still under motor with a gentle Northerly gradually picking up strength as the day progressed, but nothing too dramatic. Around Green Cape, the final corner of the Australian continent, and along the coast up to Eden, where I finally had a chance to raise some sail as we headed back into the coast.
Once into Snug Cove, we tied up to the battered old wharf, (remembering that we had a disabled crew member to unload), and taxied up the hill and into town and the Pub. Where Pete conveniently ran into a couple of old mates who could take him back to Lakes Entrance the next day.
In the morning, and still with Pete's assistance, it was a bit of a messy maintenance job on the engine, replacing a dodgy-looking alternator belt, and then we waved goodbye to him, untied from the wharf and headed over to the Southern side of the Bay to relax under anchor.
A bit of a rolly night at anchor with the North swell creeping around the corner, but a great chance to swim and paddle around on my surfboard, even if there were no waves to catch. (And I'm waking up to the grim reality that surfing and yachts aren't really a good match....I don't want to have the boat anywhere near surfable waves!)
The next morning, we motored back to Snug Cove, just off the town wharves, which were more protected in the by now, brisk Northerlies. The dinghy's pumped up and back in action again, and it's a quick run to shore and all of the luxuries of town.
We're waiting now for a bit of an uncomfortable blow overnight, and a Southerly change to come in Thursday, then follow it up the coast to Bermagui on Friday. Well, that's the plan, anyway....

Yes, we're still in the Australian Riviera, at the mercy of the wind, which has been relentless for the past few weeks and making the journey eastwards very difficult indeed. And with the next safe port of call being Eden, around the south-eastern edge of the continent, there's two distinct weather systems to deal with. Progressing eastwards from Lakes Entrance with an easterly blowing is tough, but heading out with a northerly is tough once a sailing vessel turns North at the corner. So, patience and carefully studying the weather forecasts is critical to a safe and comfortable onward journey.
But finally, we're looking at gentle wind patterns for a few days, and planning an escape on Thursday morning.

So, Lakes Locals we've been for over a month. Which hasn't been too bad, but with engine problems, dental problems and wind problems, the month clocked over easily. 
We hadn't planned on a break that long, but for all that, we've managed to keep ourselves amused. 
There are 48 hour restrictions on how long we can tie up to public wharves, so we've joined the little group of local boat owners who move around from place to place to keep the Port Authority happy. 
We were fortunate to have moved up the lakes to Paynesville in time for their annual Music Festival weekend, which was great. 
We've become accustomed to living on the boat, and not having a car. So our lives revolve around the boat and wherever we can access from it, either on foot or by dinghy.

Because we're reluctant to either pollute the lakes or resort to the boat's smelly holding tanks, we've become used to public shower and toilet facilities and a transient lifestyle. 
We've met lots of really interesting people, both locals and cruisers, and had time to potter around the boat and perform lots of little maintenance chores. And yes, we've eaten a lot of seafood and read a lot of books.
We were keen on finding an extra crew member for the Eden run, so after the Torquay crew excused themselves for various reasons, we started looking locally....and found the diminutive Pete Malone, who resides on the pier on his little ferro-cement converted fishing boat.

Pete's not quite the archetypical peg-legged pirate that you might stumble into hangin' out with Long John Silver at the Admiral Benbow Inn, but he's not far off. 
So, he's moving aboard tonight for the planned 5 a.m. getaway in the morning through the bar. 
We've studied the weather intensely. It looks as if we'll have an easy run, but who knows? The Beastly Easterlies are still lurking out there somewhere...
Wish us luck!