Soggy Sunday Sailing

This morning I met up with Ian in his trailer sailer down at the boat ramp.  I took my recently acquired Core Sound 17.

The weather here has been unsettled, with lots of rain being funneled down the east coast from cyclones in Queensland.  Today there were large dark storm clouds moving around the landscape, some coming in from the East, some from the North.  If you found yourself under one, you would get a good blast of wind, followed by a good down pour of rain.

We didn't go very far before the wind kicked up, and we headed in to anchor in the shallows off Altona Yacht club, working on the basis that if we capsized in 6 inches of water, it would not be life threatening.  I got a chance to try out the spray dodger on the boat, which works remarkably well. With the mizzen up, the boat always points to wind, so the wind driven rain sailed over the top of the dodger and we enjoyed lunch in its shelter while the rain pelted down.  Ozzie curls up right underneath the combing, keeping well out of the elements. Here is a photo of another Altona YC  trailer sailer heading in, which gives an idea of the conditions.

After the storm passed through, we ghosted out past the end of Wise's Reef, in almost complete calm.  With surprising speed, a second storm hit us from the North.  I followed the recommended Cat Ketch practice of sheeting in the Mizzen and freeing up the main.  It certainly stabilizes everything. I glanced at the GPS and saw that the boat was sailing backwards at over 2 knots.  It was quite steerable, and I pointed us back towards the red marker till the wind eased a bit, when I could start sailing again properly.  I would not want to be too close to a lee shore and have to rely on the heaving to though.

 I learned a few things today too - I need to anchor somewhere open to furl and unfurl the sails -  I managed to have two minor close encounters with the furniture in the boat harbor thanks to the pressure on the sails and my poor boat handling under motor.

We didn't go that far, but it was a memorable day sail.

Autumn sailing

It looks like the mild Autumn weather has departed, so I am glad I made the most of it.  Some memorable days sailing in the log, including a circumnavigation of Swan Island with my brother Mike.  That was a great adventure, about six hours from Swan Bay jetty return.  The weather was kind, with light westerly blowing us down to the end of Swan Bay and through the shallows - not a place to need a centreboard for tacking.  We proved conclusively that the road bridge across to Sand Island is about 5 centimeters too low for a mirror mast.  After dropping the mast, getting in a right tangle, and re-rigging, we were swept sideways by the current ripping through the cut, managing not to hit anything.  We were lucky, as shortly after we popped out, beside the Ferry terminal at Queenscliff, a pilot boat was barreling in.  Lucky we didn't meet him while drifting sideways.  Once out in the Bay proper, we followed the top of the West Channel towards the Cole Channel light, with a pod of dolphins performing tricks around us for entertainment and company.  Wind had shifted to a South South Easterly, so we had almost a dead run down to Edwards Point where we stopped on the sand spit for a late lunch.

We managed to get back to the Swan Bay Jetty on one tack.  A fantastic 10 nautical mile round trip, something that could only be done in a small dinghy. 

There have been some splendid outings locally as well.  There are a few other dinghy sailors who also get out down here when the weather permits.  It is good to have someone else out there, just in case something breaks, and nice to have the company.  

Mt Eccles and the Great Ocean Road

A nice settled patch of warm weather, and the house up the road gearing up for a major party, decided us that it was time to hitch up the Teardrop and hit the road for a few days.  I have long wanted to get to Mt Eccles National Park, over in the west of Victoria. I have nearly made it there a few times, but fate has intervened.  We managed to overcome our reluctance to leave home, hearth and garden, and managed to get packed and on the road by 10.30. 

One of the unexpected benefits of having a gps in the car is that, not only do you get lost less often, but you also discover all sorts of little back roads that you never knew existed.  We seemed to zig zag across the countryside, each road getting a little smaller than the one before, until we were scooting along a little single lane road, very much like the one lane roads on the Isle of Skye. 

We got to the camp ground at Mt Eccles, to discover that we were the only people staying there.  The camping ground has a neglected, overgrown sort of feel about it, with long grass and lots of spikey weeds growing everywhere.  Anne was worried about snakes, which I dismissed as a product of an overheated imagination.  We parked, then set off for a walk.  Almost immediately, we came upon this fellow, about 5 feet long in the old money, sunning himself on the path.  Hmmmm.  That will teach me.

He was very cooperative though, we stood to one side, he slithered off to the other, and we went on our way. The park itself is spectacular - an impressive bit of geology - and actually has a nice, wild, peaceful atmosphere once you get over the lack of maintenance.  We had a great fire, a lovely dinner and a very restful night all by ourselves out there.

Next morning, we got the GPS to guide us to Port Campbell, for lunch, then onto Wye River.  The Great Ocean Road has had a bashing with fire and flood, and lots of road works along the way make for slow going, but a very nice place to be going slow.  We got a camp site right beside the eponymous river, and enjoyed the abundant bird life - wonderful bright king parrots, currawongs with beady yellow eyes, bower birds with startlingly blue eyes, brown and teal ducks herding clutches of ducklings along through the grass.  We even had a resident koala watching over us from the tree above.

It is amazing that there are some many wonderful places only a couple of hours from where we live, and that it is so easy to get out there and experience them, and that it is so restoring and reviving.  

Sail to near Point Cook and mouth of Truganina Creek

Another lightish airs day forecast.  I am definitely and unashamedly a fair weather sailor.

I headed out in less than 10 knots, ghosting through the weed beds and past the last boat moored in the little bay, last survivor of the Altona Boat Owners moorings.  The light southerly was pointing us more or less towards Point Cook, so that was the way we went, heading along at 1.5 to 2 knots in a very relaxing fashion.  That is about what I can push the boat along rowing, so I was happy to sit back and have a leisurely lunch and watch the world slip slowly by.

Out towards Point Cook there were gannets fishing, a spectacular display as they dive straight down into the water from a fair height.  Too far away for the GoPro to pick up anything unfortunately.  Similarly, the little penguin who popped up beside the boat is invisible in the footage.  I probably need another camera with some zoom capacity to pick up anything more than a couple of metres from the boat.

The wind picked up a bit, so I thought I'd follow the coast line back towards Altona, and headed into the mouth of Truganina Creek for a leg stretch.  There is a large expanse of shallow water along the coast there - really good fun scooting along in a few inches of water with the weed beds below. 

As usually happens, the wind kicked up a bit as the day wore on, so we had a fine broad reach most of the way back to the end of the Altona Reef, then ran down back to the beach.

I think my kamakaze beach landings are taking their toll on poor old Peregrina - the rear keel piece is getting quite worn, and the paint work, which is not that good to start off with, is suffering.  I will try cutting some aluminium strips to attach on the critical contact points.

A really nice day out.

Sail to Williamstown

The wind forecast was for light airs, for the first time for what seemed like weeks.  Too good an opportunity to miss and I got organised, sort of, to get Peregrina the Mirror Dinghy ready.

Eventually found all the requisite bits and got down and rigged and on the water by 11.00.  Once I going it looked like I could squeak past Williamstown on a single tack, so that's what I aimed for.  Sort of going wither the wind listeth. In fact I had to throw a couple of tacks thanks to the wind shifting and me being less than attentive at keeping the boat pointing as high as possible.  But we get past the time ball tower, and turned into the boat channel to head into the sheltered harbour just in time to meet the Spirit of Hamburg, a substantial container ship, heading out.  We chose the path of discretion, and kept close to the docks near the point.  The wake from a container ship at reasonable close quarters is indeed quite exciting in a Mirror I discovered.

I turned round just off the jetties of the yacht clubs, and tacked my way back past the point where the football stadium is, then eased off into a rollicking good broad reach home.  A grand day out, a bit more lively than I had anticipated from the wind forecast, but excellent fun.

Through the mud

The weather forecast was looking bleak for the end of the week.  Following the grand advice, to do what you can while you can, I packed my trusty rucksack from the Camino, put in what I thought was about a day's food, and managed to wake up early enough to get onto the 7.41 train to Woodend. By 10 I was standing by a chilly Lake Daylesford at the GDT entry station.

I was surprised by how waterlogged everything seemed up there.  We have been having a fairly dry winter in Melbourne, and I live on sandy soil so water drains away quickly.  But along the trail, there was a lot of water in various forms - swollen creeks that I had to take off shoes and socks and wade through, large puddles spanning the track from side to side, and lots of mud that thoughtful four wheel drive vehicles had churned into an slippery goo.

The whole distance is around 50 k, and I wanted to get to Cresswick not too late, so I put in a long day on day one, walking till nearly dark.  I camped in the state forest near Barkstead.  It was a peaceful night with spattering of rain.  I took a tarp and bivvy combination which worked fine, everything was dry and I was warm.  It was nice to see the moon rising through the trees at some point when I woke up to roll over.

Seemed to take me a long time to get organised in the morning but I finally got back on the trail by 8.10.  I was glad I had stopped when I did, for even in the morning light, and with the GPS, I managed to loose the trail a few times.  It was a lovely morning, and I must confess I rather liked getting out of the regrowth forest - which seems sort of sterile and lifeless in places - and out onto some cleared agricultural land.   Mix of barnyard smells and open country reminded me of the Camino mornings, and I was lost in reminiscences when I walked past a marked turn and headed down hill for a good way.  Why is it always downhill when you miss a turn?

It was nice to get back into the forest towards Cresswick though - very pretty sections through there. Somewhere a few kilometres past the site of W.G.Spence's cottage I found this pressed metal shell decoration, lying in the mud by the track.

I don't know its origin or how it came to be there, but I took it as a good omen, and pocketed it.

As always, the last few kilometres of a walk is always the hardest.  I managed to slip on some particularly clayey mud, and twisted my knee, so I was a bit slow towards the end as well.  I met a lovely woman with a very friendly dog.  The dog was 12 years old, and had been living on a farm till its owner died recently.  It was now a town dog, and loving it.  It really liked meeting people and other dogs.  I had to give it a good pat, but as a consequence of dog patting, chatting and limping, I got round the corner onto the main street of Cresswick just in time to see the 2.49 Bus departing. I retired to the pub to have a glass of wine and console myself then hobbled onto the 3.49.  Next train stopping at Footscray didn't leave till 6.  Jess kindly came and picked me up, so I got home about 7.45.

My camera battery decided to give up the ghost so no photos.  I took a few gopro video clips which give some sort of idea of the conditions, though to be fair the mud is probably over represented.

So now I have a bung knee, which I hope will not prove to be a permanent fixture. I was glad to get a bit more of the GDT done, and I learned a few things.  "Less is more" is probably the most important thing - it would have been a lot nicer to knock off early, and loll about in the light on day one.  And it would have been  good not to feel under pressure on the second day.  Notwithstanding it was great to be out there.  The GDT Association do a fantastic job keeping the markers at every junction in good condition.  Chapeau to them.

To the Murray

Last week was grey and windy, so to stave off cabin fever I took the teardrop with my old home built kayak up to the Murray.  It was a spur of the moment thing, and I didn't get away till after lunch.  After nearly getting blown off the road a few times up near Kyneton and after almost running out of petrol - the wind with the kayak on the roof and towing the teardrop made a huge difference to petrol consumption - I made it to Koondrook.  Some tasty leftovers for dinner and a rainy cold night, but I slept well.  Perhaps too well for I didn't wake up till almost 9 am.  But I was out by 10, and launched the kayak at the convenient ramp, and rowed upstream for a few miles. I was looking out for a nice sandy beach for a lunch in the sun.  The NSW side is private property, and all the nice bends on that side have signs saying keep out, a bit mean if you ask me.  The Victorian side is State Forest, but the nice sandy bends seemed to have bossy possessive birds settled on them.  When I tried to land on this bend, I got told off in no uncertain terms by the pair of Eastern Masked Lapwings you can make out in the picture.

The GPS told me I was making about 2.5 knots against the current, and I rowed on for a few hours, looking for that perfect bend with nice sand, no houses on the other side, and sunshine.  I had to settle for one which was a bit on the muddy side and opposite three stonking great houses on the NSW side. Coming back I was making about 3.5 to 4 knots.  By the time I got back to the ramp, I was tired.  I am certainly not as fit as I was when I did the Murray Marathon 17 years ago.  But it was great to be back on the Murray.  I found myself day dreaming about just keeping on going, all the way down to the sea.

I stopped for the night in Barham Lakes CP, $15 for a nice grassy unpowered site with lots of birds including some magpies who appeared out of nowhere when I made a piece of toast.  They must have been watching me closely and decided that at last I was eating something that looked like Magpie food.

ABC news had a story prefiguring damaging winds to hit Melbourne next day, and after nearly getting blown away on the way up, I thought it would be a wise idea to take my time getting home.  I decided  on Terrick Terrick National Park as a likely spot, and headed that way next morning.  Driving south from Cohuna across the dead flat plain, you see a wonderful ochre coloured granite outcrop, Mt Hope. How could I resist?  I detoured, and spent a happy couple of hours exploring.

It is not far from Mt Hope to Terrick Terrick National park and its fairly basic camping ground.  I climbed to the top of Mt Terrick Terrick - not that hard as it is only a few hundred metres from the carpark - and decided to walk to the next granite outcrop, Regeis Rock after lunch. Getting there was basically a matter of heading more or less north through the open bush land.  It was great to just be able to walk without following paths or trails.  Perhaps it hooks into some archetypal memory of our ancestors walking into new territories.  Along the way there were some grand old trees, some with the scars left when the local aboriginal people had removed bark for things like bowls and shields.  Not much need for canoes out here.  

Climbing Reigeis Rock I thought I could hear the sound of young children's voices, carried faintly on the wind.  As I hadn't seen anyone all day and it seemed a long way from anywhere I thought it could be some trick of the wind in the place, or possibly a mental breakdown on my part,  but the wallabies seemed to be hearing something too.

When I got to the top I saw a dad with a couple of little kids heading on up, which was something of a relief as it showed I wasn't going crackers. 

I had the campground to myself, and found it rather strange to be the only person for miles and miles.  It was a wuthering night, with the wind roaring through the trees, but I slept well and got up in time to be on top of Mt Terrick Terrick to view the sunrise. There was a thick bank of cloud over on the horizon to the east, but still a lovely sight.  It was great sitting up there, layered up with the wind belting over the bare rock, watching the day begin.  It would be good for the soul to start every day like that. 

About three hours drive back home, through some evidence of the day before's storm in the form of trees and branches strewn about.  All in all, it was an excellent trip and an encouragement to get out and do more exploring.