Within 5 minutes Moreton Island was booked out. Completely. Even the camping places in the NW sector had been taken. At peak times the new permit system is not well suited for decisions based around the latest weather forecast. Having scored a permit for one solitary night it was now curtains for the original Easter paddle. Peel Island and all three council run camp grounds on the western side of North Stradbroke were taken so we settled on the invidious option of an overnighter to Moreton
Island.
Leaving from Wynnum Creek at 0700, the idea was to head for the lagoon on the NE corner of Mud Island near the top of the tide before crossing to Moreton. Our run line for the island would be decided upon the conditions we encountered as a 15 - 20Kn SE was predicted to follow light SW breezes which had been inshore early. The last time we headed this way it was like a millpond. Clearly this was not going to be the situation today and I would be telling porkies if I said paddling this part of the bay didn't bother me. Within a couple of Km of Mud we were sailing in the midst of a three way chop of around a metre. It was fairly broad and had the occasional soft foamy crest. The steady 10-15Kn wind was due east so the Sandhills were quickly replaced by Tangalooma Point as the preferred destination. While slightly further, at least we could continue to sail albeit with
our wits.
As we passed the Four Beacons off Middle Bank the wind became fluky under the influence of the island but the runout tide kept the pace around
8Kph. Sailing 4Km offshore the biggest swell was from the wake of a barge which would have ended in an unexpectedly large shore break. The fourth call on Channel 67 suggested the handheld VHF marine radios had a range of around 4Km. The call took us in just south of the resort perimeter fence. By the time I was out
of the boat, while not quite needing a can of condensed milk I was not far off. Kind hands took the boat up the beach and the date slice and chocolate biscuits were most gratefully savaged.
After the neighbours bundled their gear into the Moreton Island Taxi we invaded their campsites. It was a great location set back off the tyre churned beach under the shade of hibiscus trees within an easy walk of the resort. Once set up it was off to snorkel the wrecks near the ebb of the tide. To be honest I was quite happy to have joed out, but snorkelling the wrecks with flippers instead of booties was an opportunity to be taken. By the time we got there it was two hours before the low and there was still a strong run out tide. Mark kindly let me have our only pair of flippers (did he had a choice) and waited with Kimberley. The visibility was around 10 feet, but in other ways it was 10cm as it is easy to head butt each other. At one point a person and their scuba instructor swam past four feet below
seemingly unaware of us - could have been very funny had they not continued at that depth near the sandy bottom. Along the rusted hulks were plate corals, soft corals and a surprising variety of fish, some of which looked very palatable. Even though they were just there, no matter what, you couldn't touch them. Maybe some bread next time. The Wrecks was like a 4WD parking lot and there were plenty of boats and people about. The scattered showers arrived driving one beach goer into a classic beach posie on a folding camp stool below the high tide line with a golf umbrella in one hand, a stubby in the other watching the children play in the sand and shallows.
Back to camp via the resort for some premium alcohol and hot chips to share before returning to base in time for the sunset and sundowners. By now I was flagging and ready to crash. After dinner Ray and Mark rigged up Ray's sail on my boat as the mast had snapped when the sail struck a high tension fly
rope. Clearly metal fatigued and a blessing that it went then as I would be needing all the sail help I could get tomorrow.
The following day presented a glorious still grey morning with a
forecast of SE 10-15Kn changing to NE and seas to 0.7 metre. Not that you would think it capable of 0.7 of anything looking out from Tangalooma Point. It is very sheltered here, just like SW corner of St Helena alongside the jetty. After an early morning wake up swim it was onto breakfast and pack up all too soon.
Feeling significantly tired from yesterday I was not looking forward to the open crossing to Mud Island. Once out of the shelter of the island it was clear the bureau had the direction right. While the same design, rather than have a window, Ray's sail is 10cm higher of the deck so you can see under it. Blimey that 10cm makes a difference. The Artic Raider became positively skitty with a new tendency to lurch with gusts. By the end of the day I had crowded ribs and a crick in a fat roll on my
left side. Even with the need to lean I was ever grateful for the sail as once I got the hang of the swell and how the boat was going to handle the sail, the wind was strong enough for us to make 9Kph with token paddle taps.
It was a wet ride in a predominantly beam sea. My challenge was to stay in the boat and to get to Mud Island. The SE pushed us 2Km north of our original run line and it was difficult to keep the sailing advantage without missing the island altogether. By the time we surfed into the NW lagoon it was a comfort stop in more ways than one.
It had been a dull grey day all the way and it did not start to lift until we called into St Helena for lunch. Here I lay for a while after lunch waiting for the Easter eggs and NE to kick in. Can't say either did so it was a plod for the remaining 7Km with the SE giving some push.
Just over 70Km in the two days, can now tick an overnight on Moreton off the list. Can't say that I would be keen to do it again. Put it down as an experience. Also something to be said about having compatible gear. Thank you Ray for the use of your sail, it was very much appreciated.
|
