Over the Top, Part 2: From Thursday Island to Cairns, Australia

Over the Top and Down the Side.     November 28-December 18, 2017

A map of our voyage. You can enlarge any photo by clicking on it.

A postscript.....While we were in Seisia, (just south and east of Thursday Island, on the mainland) we went to the Fishing Club for happy hour, to find that the venue had been set up for a local celebration to dedicate a tombstone for a deceased Auntie. Family and friends had arrived from all over the Torres Strait Islands for the wake.  We were invited to join in the feast of local delicacies, and there was traditional dancing. We were among a handful of yachties who were lucky enough to be here.  The dance, song and drumming were magical, and I was so grateful to have been included.  Here are some clips:

                                          

We set sail to leave Thursday Island and make a quick run to Cape York, the northernmost tip of the Australia.  The tide was slack at 1030, so it was an easy sail and we anchored around 2 p.m. We dinghied ashore to spend some time climbing around the timeworn tip of the continent. 

"You are standing at the Northernmost point of the Australian Continent"!

A cairn on Cape York overlooking the Torres Strait.

It was a quiet day of transition; Tarci had departed and it was just Ric and me now.  Cape York was a fitting place to regroup for the trip down the Queensland Coast and the Great Barrier Reef.

We sailed past the Cape with the tide against us even on the eastward "ebb”. It turned out that it was easier for me to handle the sails by myself, since there was no confusion about who was doing what.  What a relief! We entered the mouth of the Escape River and anchored off a small pearl farm there. The only sign of life there was the distant barking of a dog. I wish we had gone ashore, because I learned later that you can buy pearls direct there!

The pearl farm on the Escape River, home to Barky the dog.  

The essential cruising guide to Australia's east coast.

From here we headed offshore, and anchored at the Sinclair Islets, where at last I could swim without danger from the Salties.  Now there are just sharks to worry about. The reef was OK, but much of it appeared to be silted over.  I have since learned that after the coral is “bleached”, the algae colonize it giving it a slimy muddy appearance like this. Even in its degraded state, as my first dive on the Great Barrier Reef it was exhilarating. There were new corals growing here and there and reef fish were plentiful. Ric brought up a black pearl oyster, which he gave to me. There was no pearl inside, but the shells themselves are lovely.  He also speared a coral trout, so a delectable dinner was in our future.

A parrot fish gnawing on coral.

Fantastic fish, even with the reef overgrown with algae...

We sailed on to Cape Grenville, where we motored from out from our anchorage in the morning, around to the NW side of the Cape to a beach where Ric knew that Chambered Nautilus shells sometimes wash ashore.   The beach was littered with all sorts of flotsam due to wind and currents, so we had to look sharp. We found a solar battery cell with “Cape Horn” painted on it, part of a buoy which floated all the way from the stormy tip of South America.  I found a construction hard hat, fishing floats with salvageable hardware, loads of plastics…and nautilus shells.

Ric cut down a coconut palm to get the edible palm heart for our dinner...

Here is the heart of palm. Mild and crunchy.

The beach was strewn with flotsam due to it's orientation
 with wind and currents.  It comes from Asia and beyond....

This solar cell appears to have come from a buoy at Cape Horn,
 the southern tip of South America.

Find the treasures....a hard hat and a nautilus shell

We dinghied through the mangrove hunting delicious mud crabs, but found none.

We sailed on to Forbes Island, past long stretches of shoreline studded with towering termite mounds which look like buildings designed by Gaudi.

The spire on the right is a giant termite mound.

The merciless glare sunburned me again even as I hid the shade of the bimini.   From here we headed out to the Reef again, anchoring in different areas as we moved south, arriving early and snorkeling all afternoon. The water was clear, and hard corals grew in abundance for miles around.

A school of tangs.

Hard corals in shades of purple, marine blue, ochre, mint green... beautiful.

Ric on the hunt.

A coral trout with moments to live....

Same trout on his way to the frying pan.

Slaying the fish!

Giant clams with their multi-colored lips, bright reef fish, sharks, and fat coral trout were everywhere. At Lagoon Reef the current was running strong, and the top of the reef was close to the surface, so Ric suggested that I drift over it while he stayed alongside in the dinghy. It was like riding a conveyor belt above a splendid garden of fantastic pinks, purples, royal blue, yellow and neon green hard and soft corals.

Black tip reef sharks were around every day.

A" giant clam" with turquoise and jade coloration.

                         

Another clam with brilliant blue tracery trimmed with turquoise, brown and pink.

Ric on the spy-cam drone as I snorkel.

Hard Yakka anchored on the reef.

I paddle back to the boat after another fantastic dive.

The next day we decided to sail all day and overnight as the weather was turning against us. We arrived at the Flinders Island group anchored at 0430, under the full moon, with the distinctive mountains silhouetted under a flood of silver moonlight.

Flinders Island. 

The mountain on Flinders, with kapok pods in the foreground.

The windward side, as the day heats up.

Aboriginal cave art.

In the morning, we dinghied ashore past two distinctive rocky islets. (It turns out that those giant oysters grow on the waterline of these islets…wish I’d known that then!)  Its imposing mountains were sacred places to the indigenous people, and there are aboriginal rock paintings here.

After, we dinghied across to another island where a large cistern afforded us an abundant fresh water shower and quick rinse of our sweaty clothes. We returned to the boat and made for Lizard Island, sailing through the night and arriving at 230 am.

A view of the anchorage in Mrs. Watson's Bay at Lizard Island.

Lizard Island Resort

Lizard is a beautiful island, a national park with the added advantage of a boutique hotel and a pub that welcomes yachties. Towering over the island area is the mountain called Cook's Look, where Captain James Cook climbed to scout the reef to try to find a clear path to safety for his ship. It also is home to the beautiful Clam Garden reef, where we snorkeled every day. This reef is home to a giant colony of colorful Tridacna clams, fish of all sorts, and beautiful soft corals. In season there are as many as 40 yachts at anchor in the small bay, but now there were only five or six. Ric suggested that I dinghy around and pass the word for a happy hour on the beach. Great idea, but I swam around to each boat instead! We had a fun evening.

Sailing author Dr. Gavin LeSeur and our pal Jeff having a gam.

If we climbed the rugged path up the mountain, we could get a few bars of cell coverage!  We went almost every day, and often met yachtie friends at the usual shady spots.  By mid-morning the heat was beginning to sizzle, so on the day that I climbed Cook's Look, I started early and carried water. While the walk is only 2.5 miles each way, the terrain is rugged and the altitude of 1000 feet made it good exercise. I took my time and the full hike was about three hours.

A rough section of trail on the way to Cook's Look.

The cairn at the top, where I signed the trail logbook.

The view from the top revealed the vast patchwork of reef, appearing yellow-green in the glistening turquoise sea.

A lovely view from the top of Cook's Look.

High winds kept us at Lizard for almost a week. One day we motored out to the Cod Hole reef for spear fishing and snorkeling. As always, Ric came back with a haul of fish.  He suggested we feed the sharks with the fish trimmings. We took our positions at the bottom of the pontoons with our underwater cameras, and threw in the fish bits.  In an instant five or six gray reef sharks appeared, and swarmed into a frenzy.

Stills of the shark frenzy off our stern.

Friends, the word "frenzy" is no exaggeration. They tore through the water with teeth slashing, slammed into the boarding ladder, darted up from under the pontoons at lightning speed.  Even though I was holding my camera underwater right next to the hull, I jerked it out of the water so often that my video ruined. Ric was steadier, and here’s some of the video he shot:

Later that day, I went snorkeling along on a nearby bommie (coral head), but I confess I got a bit skittish when I turned to find a shark checking me out.

Happy Arr at the Marlin Bar, Lizard Island.

Ric in his dress uniform.

Chillin' with the yachties.

Sunset on Lizard.

Ric decided to commission the watermaker…and it decided to malfunction, and so our normal liberal use of water (thank you, Captain!) had to be curtailed. We had enough to get to Cairns if we conserved. It wasn’t  hard to get back into old habits of using each drop to it’s fullest.

We left Lizard with a fair wind and a great day of sailing, and anchored at the Low Islands.

 As the sun set, we sipped wine on the trampoline and watched thousands of black and white Torres Strait Pigeons returning to roost on the islands, and listened to a thousand deep “coos” as they settled in. Two sea eagles circled among them, eager to snatch one for dinner. It was a pleasant evening.

From Low Islands we went to Port Douglas, our first civilization in three weeks. I went ashore for a walk around town, overwhelmed by the bustle of sound and color after the tranquility of nature we had been experiencing. Port Douglas is attractive and cool town, full of interesting shops, boutiques and and restaurants.

A tourist boat, a chinese Junk, coming out of Port Douglas.

Pretty Port Douglas.

I talked with a cheerful shopkeeper about being overstimulated after weeks at sea, and she totally understood; she had lived in a rural hamlet in the Northern Territory, and remembered feeling dazed when she finally made it into Darwin after the rainy season. She suggested a walk along the waterfront to regroup, so I walked along the waterfront right into the Combined Boat Club for a refreshing glass of wine.

 Returning to the boat, we headed out to anchor at the Low Islands for the night. In the morning we dinghied ashore for a walk around the island’s pretty lighthouse, then set sail at last for Cairns, and the end of the voyage.  We had a great sail, then began the approach to the river and the marina where we’d stay.  There is a very shallow bar at the mouth of the river, and Ric carefully piloted Yakka over it with only a meter under the keel.

                      Coming into the channel at Cairns, with  a meter under the keel and narrow steerage way.

 We tied up at the marina, ready to enjoy the amenities. I spent a busy day deep cleaning and organizing Yakka for the arrival of Ric’s daughter for Christmas.  Later, we dinghied over to visit Ric’s old friend, film maker Ben Cropp, Australia’s answer to Jacques Cousteau.  Ric was Ben’s Number-One diver for ten years of underwater filming.

Ric wake boarding on a giant marlin back in the day.

                                                 To see more about Ben Cropp click here.

We got cleaned up and dressed up for “aloha night”. Ric took me into Cairns and we walked around that pretty city enjoying the lively waterfront and city vibe.  We had a delicious dinner at a Thai restaurant overlooking the waterfront as the scarlet sun sank into the ocean. We had fun remembering adventures we had experienced.

We arrived in Cairns after a month and a half and over 1500 miles of cruising from Darwin, Australia, along the wild coast of Arnhem Land, across the Gulf of Carpentaria, through the Torres Strait and around Cape York and south along the Great Barrier Reef. I am so grateful to Ric for sharing the adventure with me. Many, many thanks!

                 Here's a link to John Williamson, whose music is an ongoing love affair with Australia.