Just in case my temporary fix job on the hull wasn't up to scratch, I thought it prudent to sail the 60-odd miles into Mackay, and the safety of a marina, rather than hanging around out at Middle Percy for too long.
And, besides, we were due to pick up the first of our Guest Crew, in the form of the Rip Curl Tide Watch King, Peter Hodgart, who'd just flown into Mackay.
Peter's a mad keen fisherman, so we were looking forward to him quickly setting up the lines and hauling in loads of fish.
After docking in the marina, it became pretty obvious that the repairs had been holding well, so once we'd replenished the larder and the fuel tanks, we were out to sea again.
The sail started out a little rough and calmed down later on, but our next problem emerged when we doused the mainsail and one side of our lazyjack line broke. (The lazy jacks are the arrangement of light rope that hold the sail bag on the boom, and control the sail as it drops to guide it into the bag neatly.)
A minor problem compared with the crack in the hull, just inconvenient in that it made using the mainsail a pain in the bum. I decided that I didn't want to fix it myself, (which would've involved a trip up the mast) and that I'd wait until I found a rigger in Airlie Beach.
Anyway, Hodgy had the trolling lines out the back and we were all just waiting for the first big Spanish Mackerel to flop onto the deck....
And, besides, we were due to pick up the first of our Guest Crew, in the form of the Rip Curl Tide Watch King, Peter Hodgart, who'd just flown into Mackay.
Peter's a mad keen fisherman, so we were looking forward to him quickly setting up the lines and hauling in loads of fish.
After docking in the marina, it became pretty obvious that the repairs had been holding well, so once we'd replenished the larder and the fuel tanks, we were out to sea again.
The sail started out a little rough and calmed down later on, but our next problem emerged when we doused the mainsail and one side of our lazyjack line broke. (The lazy jacks are the arrangement of light rope that hold the sail bag on the boom, and control the sail as it drops to guide it into the bag neatly.)
A minor problem compared with the crack in the hull, just inconvenient in that it made using the mainsail a pain in the bum. I decided that I didn't want to fix it myself, (which would've involved a trip up the mast) and that I'd wait until I found a rigger in Airlie Beach.
Anyway, Hodgy had the trolling lines out the back and we were all just waiting for the first big Spanish Mackerel to flop onto the deck....
Hodg and the Catch of the Day. Or should that be Catch Of The Week? The legendary remora.
First stop on the trip was the beautiful Thomas Island, and a favourite little anchorage in the fabulously named Naked Lady Bay, where I paddled my longboard ashore while Hodg took over the dinghy in search of fish. We circumnavigated that little island so many times, I was getting dizzy.
Naked Lady Bay on Thomas Island. South of The Whitsundays and out of range of the tourists.
A great place, Thomas Island, but unfortunately a scarcity of fish. So, onwards to the Whitsunday Island group, and an anchorage at Sawmill Bay....another beautiful little spot.
El Gato in Sawmill Bay Sawmill Bay is one of the classic Whitsunday hideaways that the region is famous for, the weather was superb and the clear water was just so inviting for a paddle. Beautiful. But despite trolling around in the dinghy, the fish situation was still pretty grim.
In one respect, I was pleased....if the mighty Hodg couldn't catch a fish, I didn't feel so bad about not having caught one myself since leaving the Gold Coast.
But fortune smiled on us when somehow a remora (or
sucker fish) managed to tangle itself and Hodg's fishing line up in our anchor chain. So the drought was broken at last.
Onwards again to another famous Whitsundays spot,
the spectacular Nara Inlet. Our little hidey-hole there was previously named "Shark Bay" but the tourism people thought that was a bit off-putting and renamed it something innocuous so as not to scare the horses.
Persevering with the dinghy trolling, Hodg scored a couple of tiddlers.
In one respect, I was pleased....if the mighty Hodg couldn't catch a fish, I didn't feel so bad about not having caught one myself since leaving the Gold Coast.
But fortune smiled on us when somehow a remora (or
sucker fish) managed to tangle itself and Hodg's fishing line up in our anchor chain. So the drought was broken at last.
Onwards again to another famous Whitsundays spot,
the spectacular Nara Inlet. Our little hidey-hole there was previously named "Shark Bay" but the tourism people thought that was a bit off-putting and renamed it something innocuous so as not to scare the horses.
Persevering with the dinghy trolling, Hodg scored a couple of tiddlers.
Nara Inlet. From the steps leading to centuries-old aboriginal cave paintings.
Our next expedition was to circumnavigate Whitsunday Island itself, and check out the famous Whitehaven Beach, which features in much of the advertising for the Islands. Unfortunately, we had strong winds, and the masses of boats and people on the beach meant that we were a little underwhelmed and I didn't even drag out the camera, but at least we'd sailed past it.
I'd made a few phone calls back to the not-far-away Airlie Beach and we had an appointment set for the rigger to visit the boat and repair my lazy jacks. The rigger won't go up the mast if the boat's on the anchor or even on the solid ground....has to be in a marina. So, in we went, to Airlie Beach's "other" marina. It's up-market and situated in what used to be called Muddy Bay. (Another name the Tourist Bureau would like to bury.)
The old rigger wasn't silly though, and happily sat on deck issuing orders, sending his lithe young mountain climber assistant up the mast, and she fixed our lazy jacks in no time.
I'd made a few phone calls back to the not-far-away Airlie Beach and we had an appointment set for the rigger to visit the boat and repair my lazy jacks. The rigger won't go up the mast if the boat's on the anchor or even on the solid ground....has to be in a marina. So, in we went, to Airlie Beach's "other" marina. It's up-market and situated in what used to be called Muddy Bay. (Another name the Tourist Bureau would like to bury.)
The old rigger wasn't silly though, and happily sat on deck issuing orders, sending his lithe young mountain climber assistant up the mast, and she fixed our lazy jacks in no time.
All riggers should look this good. Hodg's week or so was drawing to a close, and we'd enjoyed the company. Despite the lack of fish, he'd kept us entertained over beers every night and regaled us with wonderful stories of his life in Japan. And, he helped unravel all of the knots that I'd developed in my own fishing reels....
The boat is so roomy that it's easy to have visitors on board, and every cabin has its own ensuite bathroom and shower. Once Peter had made his way to the airport, we readied the boat for our next visitors, old Torquay friends Rod and Andrea Brooks, who were driving up from their home on the Gold Coast.
Once they'd parked their car safely we started loading on the mountains of food, alcohol and "stuff" they'd brought (ain't life easy when you're not travelling on Jetstar).
I then set about having the dinghy valued and ordering a new one to be kitted up to our specs, and delivered after our next trip out to the islands.
The boat is so roomy that it's easy to have visitors on board, and every cabin has its own ensuite bathroom and shower. Once Peter had made his way to the airport, we readied the boat for our next visitors, old Torquay friends Rod and Andrea Brooks, who were driving up from their home on the Gold Coast.
Once they'd parked their car safely we started loading on the mountains of food, alcohol and "stuff" they'd brought (ain't life easy when you're not travelling on Jetstar).
I then set about having the dinghy valued and ordering a new one to be kitted up to our specs, and delivered after our next trip out to the islands.
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