Where am I?

There's a new game to play as we sip our evening sundowner. One of us asks the other, "Where were we this time last week?" Cue puzzled frown as we each rack our addled brains trying to figure out where we have been during the past week. Since the 1st May, we have visited two cities, 17 islands and 6 mainland bays - little wonder that the trail of anchorages along the Queensland coast has become something of a blur.

This has been our first experience of long distance coastal cruising, covering 700 miles in a series of day sails. It would have been possible to cover greater distances by heading out through the Great Barrier Reef, and sailing north as an offshore trip, but then we would have missed out on some rather dramatic coastal scenery.

Many mornings we have been up an hour before dawn (not traditionally my favourite time of day) to prepare the boat and sip a cup of tea. We are heading into winter here, and hence have just over 11 hours of daylight each day. The Queensland coast offers surprisingly few secure anchorages, resulting in several trips of around 60 miles to the next anchorage. Thankfully the prevailing south-east trade wind blows steadily at this time of year, and has sped us over the flat seas enclosed by the reef. As our route is generally north-west, the wind has been from astern much of the way, encouraging us to break out the cruising chute, or goose-wing the main and genoa as the winds freshen. I have never seen 7+ knots on the speed indicator so frequently.

The end of a long day

After 10 hours of exhilarating sailing, it would be wonderful to fetch up in a calm anchorage to rest and plan the next day's adventure. Unfortunately whilst the sea has few waves, there is a persistent swell which manages to invade the vast majority of anchorages. On some evenings, it is a gentle rocking, just enough to remind you that you are not in a marina. On others, glasses of wine slither across the saloon table, every single loose item of crockery rattles and as we try to sleep we are awakened by a series of strange clanks, creaks and squeaks - of the type that stop as soon as you stomp on deck in the moonlight demanding "OK who is making that racket!!" After such a night, it was sometimes a relief to get up at 5am for the next day's sailing.

Cruising the Curtis Coast

Our first week took us from Great Keppel Island up to Scawfell Island, just short of the famous Whitsundays. The unique feature of this section was the profusion of butterflies we encountered on passage. For hours we sailed in company with flocks of black and blue butterflies. None landed on deck - they kept on flapping, swirling off with the wind. Quite why there should be so many butterflies in this one area, or where they were all headed, we'd love to know.

Butterflies taking a rest

One island, which is an almost compulsory stop on the run up the Queensland coast, is Middle Percy Island. For several decades the island's sheep farming leaseholders welcomed visiting yachts, even constructing an A-frame shelter on the beach to provide a shady meeting place for cruisers keen to escape from their rolling homes. Today the island is mainly a national park, and debate rages as to whether the non-native palm trees, which line the white beach so attractively, should be allowed to stay. (On Dunk Island, we hiked to "Coconut Beach", only to find that each and every palm had been recently felled - wonder if they'll rename the beach now?) We celebrated another of my birthdays in this beautiful bay, and during a walk ashore discovered where at least some of the wonderful butterflies were hanging out.

The Whitsunday Islands

Before we set off from Bundaberg, we had been given a pile of Australian cruising magazines, many of which described the Whitsunday Islands area as "One of the best cruising destinations in the world". Articles were littered with superlatives: magical, spectacular and majestic all got good use. Would the area live up to the hype? Sailing between the islands, I was strongly reminded of cruising in the Ionian. Multiple anchorages providing shelter from any wind direction, short distances between the islands, and handy nearby mainland towns for provisioning. No wonder this is a prime charter boat location. As to majestic etc, we didn't find it so in comparison to Fatu Hiva in the Marquesas, or even the west coast of Scotland. (Me? Biased?? Surely not!)

Our reaction to the Whitsundays has caused us to reflect on the impact of tourism advertising. When everywhere is described with superlatives, how often can reality meet expectations?

Spectacular snorkelling - but at Upolu Cay, not the Whitsundays

As we hopped through the area (including a weekend), we were surprised how few yachts we encountered - maybe as a result of the loss of dozens of local yachts during Cyclone Ului in late March. Passing islands dotted with resorts, we flicked through the Lonely Planet and checked out the prices for a night on these "exclusive" island getaways. Would we be willing to part with £2000 a night for a bed which didn't roll, and someone else to do the chores? Maybe not.

We worked our way round to the north of Hook Island, in search of the "most dramatic snorkelling in the Whitsundays". Our sheltered mooring in Butterfly Bay provided dramatic scenery, with verdant green hillsides plunging into the sea on three sides, however the snorkelling proved disappointing. There were good numbers of fish, and some interesting coral, but everything more than 2m away just disappeared into the murk. Maybe we hit the wrong time of year/day/tide.

Cape hopping to Townsville

Townsville from the top of Castle Hill

By this stage, the laundry basket was bulging, so it was time to make tracks for Townsville. Zipping across the bay towards the city in the dawn light, we had good feelings towards the place - the city sits at the base of the Great Dividing Range, and is protected by rugged Cape Cleveland and Magnetic Island. The city is dominated by a 300m high red rock, Castle Hill, which reminded me of Arthur's Seat in Edinburgh. A sweaty hike up the aptly named Goat Track to the summit provided great views across the flood plains to the mountains.

Once upon a time, it was possible to anchor off the city, but that area has now silted up and no-one is going to dredge an anchorage for "grotty yachties" (as liveaboard cruisers are referred to in these parts) - especially when they can extract cash from them in a marina. Townsville Marina earned a glowing gold star from me for their laundry facilities. Not until you have spent 5 years on a yacht, suffering the poor performance of top loading washing machines or the slog of hand washing double sheets, can you truly appreciate the joy of an automatic washing machine. Bliss!

First aid for stinger attacks

We truly enjoyed our two days in Townsville - it felt like a real working town, not a tourist construct. We had to look hard to find anywhere selling postcards, unlike Cairns where it was hard to find a shop selling anything other than tourist tat - but I'm getting ahead of myself.

The waterfront has been recently developed into a strip of parkland complete with water park for the kids, beach volley ball courts, fitness work-out stations, cafes and stinger enclosures. Stinger enclosures? These are square net swimming enclosures hung with a protective mesh, designed to sieve out the mega-nasty little stinger jelly fish. For those swimmers brave (silly?) enough to venture beyond the enclosures, bottles of vinegar are provided at regular intervals along the beach - the most effective first aid.

Magnetic Island to Mission Bay

The clock keeps ticking, so despite enjoying Townsville we had to make more miles north. An unsettled few days led us past the world's longest bulk sugar loading jetty (am impressive 6km long structure) and on to Orpheus Island. As a national park, several moorings are provided for yachts, in the hope of preserving the coral from wayward anchors. We had used similar moorings in the Whitsundays, and simply hooked the mooring line over the bow cleat.

During Angus' midnight perambulation, he had a vague sense of things not being quite right… when he returned to bed, the penny dropped. His feet were higher than his head - meaning that the boat was seriously nose down. I am eternally grateful to the RAF for the hours of crisis management training it subjected Angus to in flight simulators, as it means he never panics.

A quick investigation of the foredeck revealed that the pick up line of the mooring buoy had been shortened, such that it was too short for a yacht at high tide. Do It's bow was being pulled down 1m, placing a huge strain on the cleat and mooring line - and part flooding the anchor locker. Having rigged a secondary line, Angus stroked our sharp dive knife across the loaded line. TWANG! The bow bounced up, the anchor locker drained, and the crew were awake for the next two hours until the adrenaline levels receded. Thank goodness for the strength of steel - and Angus' foresight in increasing the size of the cleat's bolts and backing plate during the deck re-fit earlier this year.

Close encounter with a friendly turtle

A cruel irony of our trip up the coast is that just as we reach the end of the stinger season (the end of May), we have arrived into crocodile country. We have seen croc warning signs since Fraser Island, but up here people take them seriously. Thankfully there are a few tiny offshore sand cays which are deemed safe, which provide snorkelling opportunities.

After the disappointment of the Whitsundays, it was just delightful to spend a couple of days off the tiny sand island of Uplou Cay. The water was crystal clear, the coral was in good condition, the water was warm, and the fish were so accustomed to the daily day tripper snorkellers that they almost lined up to have their photos taken. One of the best snorkelling sites of our journey so far.

Firstly the good bits - the city has a fabulous botanic garden, good cycle-ways and a bountiful fresh produce market. Otherwise, the city feels like it has sold it's soul for the tourist dollar. Walking through the city centre, I wondered where the shops were that sold anything used by a local - probably in the air-conditioned out of town malls.

Spectacled flying foxes

Given that every third shop was selling tours out of Cairns, we took the hint and headed up into the hills for a few hours in the village of Kuranda. Whilst most real tourists journeyed up via train and down by cable car, we decided to save £50 (each!) by taking the local bus. We'd been forewarned that Kuranda was a tourist mecca - once a hippy/artist colony, it is now home to the highest density of opal shops, crocodile belt shops and reproduction aboriginal art tea towel shops in the state. Weirdly, amongst the vast array of Australiana, there was a Scottish tea shop selling a full range of tartan tourist tat. Why?

Our reason for joining the tourist hordes was to visit a flying fox rehabilitation centre. I've enjoyed looking at these fascinating creatures from a distance since we first encountered them in Tonga, so couldn't pass up the opportunity for a closer look. Batreach is set up to care for orphaned bats and also those damaged by flying into fences or power lines, and had a good range of spectacled, red and grey bats hanging around. Angus is resisting my proposal to encourage a colony to roost in the rigging.

And for those with broadband, here it a short video of our encounter.

Marina Musings

Maybe it is the impact of visiting two marinas in one month that has caused me question the role of marinas in this part of Oz, but I feel the need to vent:

• Why do marinas charge based on the length of the pontoon, not the length of the boat? Do It is 12.5m long, which meant we were 50cm too long for a 12m berth, and the next size up was 15m - and considerably more expensive. On arrival in the marina, you realise that a "15m berth" is in reality less than 13m long…
• If you own a boat, it is inevitable that you will have to undertake maintenance on it. However such activities are frowned upon - and frequently explicitly banned. If you live in Cairns, and keep your boat in the marina, it appears you must only work on your vessel whilst out sailing. Odd.
• In a world where everyone is becoming cleaner and greener, why is it obligatory to dry my laundry in a tumble dryer? And why is the rubbish skip at Cairns marina refrigerated??

Culinary delights

Delicious dragon fruit

This month's fabulous fruit is the dragon fruit - about the size of your fist, looking like a waxy flower bud. Once cut in half, the spectacularly red flesh speckled with black seeds is revealed. The flavour is part sweet melon, part raspberry, totally delicious.

To celebrate our 14th wedding anniversary, we took a trip down memory lane with lamb gyros, grilled haloumi, tzatziki and Greek salad from the excellent Souvlaki Bar in Townsville. We could have been back in the Ionian on our honeymoon!

The repaired cruising chute, back in action

We started this month flying our large cruising chute in fairly light winds, using it to help us make the long daily distances. As the winds strengthened we discovered that we could achieve some impressive speeds with the chute - until we found the limit. A small hole rapidly became a large tear parallel to the clew. Rats! Thankfully the friendly sailmaker in Townsville sold us a large sheet of spinnaker cloth. Out came the trusty Sailrite sewing machine, and after just two afternoons or pins and swearing, we now have it repaired.

Only another 500 miles or so up to Cape York, and then it is left turn for Darwin. As we sail north, the average winds will increase, so we are looking forward to more exhilarating sailing.