Be careful what you wish for. Today we ended up with a bit more than I had bargained for.
OK, I admit it. I wanted to blow my rotten sail out. The forecast was for a wind change to 25 knots SE sometime after 1pm. We piked on Mud as that had potential to evolve into a rough grind or a steep taxi fare. Instead we settled for a longer variation of
what we had done last Saturday, concluding this time, hopefully with a ripping return under sail.
We launched amongst the tenders cast dry on packed sand at Point O'Halloran. Under light winds we passed by a Ray Young look-alike. Fishing from a black tinnie he was incognito in a hoodie. It was a convivial dawdle to Potts Point for morning tea. The sun spread its welcome warmth and sprinkled sparkles across the bay. There were a few boaties out and about including an ocean racer from Sydney with it's living area cantilevered over the rear, an inflatable looking at risk of sinking before hitting the plane and a gracious old timer who would have looked more in place on the Brisbane River as hostess to corporate excess.
Coming into Canaipa Passage we were straight into what was building to be an excellent return fare. But for now we were paying our way with hard work. We climbed and had lunch in a
sheltered place at the foot of the James Hardie Sand Mine signage. While we had studied the wind we had neglected the general forecast. The skies looked almost stormy, the breeze had a nip and rain was coming our way. We went back down to find a
sit-on kayak hauled up on the beach. The power source was vehemently cussing his mate's self assessed ability to paddle. A mate that was no where in sight. His so called kayaking abilities were calling out for a rest stop half way across Canaipa Passage - and that was with a tail wind. A wind that was starting
starting to ratchet up a gear and the rain was taking aim. With no lifejackets and rising chop it looked like they would be in for a fine return and the making of mateship.
I scooted across Canaipa Passage with a cheesy grin. Not enough for an outrigger paddle but gusty enough to keep you wary. Too strong for Mark to put up his sail in the vicinity of a moored cat. Once in the lee of Russell it was starting to look like the wind might have other plans. When we rounded the bottom of Garden Island it was clear that it did and we were not included. Ripped off. Again. The only consolation was a run out tide. I had a few words with Huey. Within 10 minutes it was up to 15Kn - I had hoped for more, but beggars can't be choosers.
Clearly the forecast and rain had kept everyone else away - we were the only boats in sight. I whinged that this 30Km+ trip was a bit of a yawn. Just north of Snipe Island sand was pluming up in murky water 100metres ahead. We had seen this last Saturday.
"Mark dugong ahead". We both assumed that it would head away but all three of us were about to get the surprise of the day. The sandy plume persisted, the surface started to boil and next thing a dugong exploded out of the water and turned right.
Right on a direct collision course with the Marlin. All I could do was watch transfixed as 500kilo of powerful panicked blubber rammed the Marlin under sail. It's thumping tail created a maelstrom as it continued to push its way directly under the
kayak, heaving it out of the water until it was free of its assailant. In the meantime Mark had done a pretty cool bracing manoeuvre while under full sail (Huey hadn't let up). He sustained a bruised hand, the kayak a cracked hull and hopefully
all the poor dugong had was a hell of a fright. It was very dramatic, much more exciting that my ramming by a giant loggerhead. Sorry no photos, I was spellbound by what was going
to happen next. I was also relieved it was me watching and not bracing. I am not so sure I would have stayed in my boat, and after that kind of ramming I don't think I would have had a boat.
After recovering from that bit of action I asked Huey for more. He obliged and we were up to 20Kn. All we needed to do was find the water amongst the rising banks. The last three Km were all smiles. Surfing and sailing, hooting along - this is what I had been looking for. The sail tape held up - no blow out. Impressive
stuff. By the time the boats were being loaded on the car Huey was really letting rip. The forecast was not wrong, the change was due to come in sometime between 1300 and 1600. It was 1605.
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