Tuesday 20th February 2018

With our time in Western Australia rapidly coming to an end, Friday we took a day to visit Fremantle. In the south of the Perth Metropolitan Area, at the mouth of the Swan River, it has been a main port for nearly 200 years and retains much of its original 19th century architecture. We found an eclectic mix of historic buildings, museums, craft markets, art galleries, trendy bars and restaurants.

As we entered the city we noticed the clocktower of the townhall had squares of yellow paint near its top, at first we thought it must be having some renovations done but as we walked down High Street we saw more seemingly random yellow daubs and then stripes curling up from the pavement and onto the buildings. Slightly perplexed we walked on until up the steps of the roundhouse at the end of the street we turned and all was revealed. It is the work of Swiss artist Felice Varini who creates 3D optical illusions in public places all around the world. Designed to be viewed from just this one spot, the yellow lines and squares come together to form a set of eliptical rings that appear to float miraculously above the street. It is mind boggling to imagine how the artist could even conceive such an amazing idea and impressive that the Fremantle council took the risk with one of its prime tourist spots to allow it to happen.

Amazing street art in Fremantle

Still glancing back over our shoulders we wandered into an art gallery at the top of the steps displaying beautiful underwater photos, the photographer had done some wonderful things with his images of coral, tropical fish, sharks and rays. Not having the ability to paint whole streets but thinking that we had, maybe not quite of the same quality, but very similar photos, perhaps we could create some of our own Freo inspired artworks.

In complete contrast we then spent an enjoyable hour at the shipwreck museum learning about the early Dutch explorers and more specifically the story of the Batavia. Part of the Dutch East India Company she was wrecked off the WA coast in 1629 amid tales of mutiny and murder. The museum has on display a large section of her hull, salvaged in the early 1970’s along with many arifacts, including cannons, domestic items and part of her cargo, a large stone arch destined for Jakarta.

The next day we were lucky enough to be included in a gathering of Taryn and Greg’s friends for a Peeking duck night. Greg and friend Pete had spent the previous evening preparing the duck. Part of this preparation required the skin of the raw duck being unstuck from the carcass to allow it to crisp more easily. An ingenious solution to this problem led to the bizarre sight of Greg inflating the duck using his scuba tank and regulator. The technique proved its worth the next evening when, after a fun few hours decorating the terrace, we all sat down to delicious Peking duck.

Peking Duck night

And then before we knew it it was our last day, we opted, before we started our packing, for one last swim in the Indian Ocean.. The surf was relatively small, the water warm and the colours as incredible as always.

Thanks Taryn and Greg for a great break

Yesterday evening we flew back to Sydney and this morning its back to business on Raya. Rick has his head in the engine room replacing the alternator with a new one sourced in Perth and I’ve just returned from the supermarket with some basic supplies. In my bags there is a heavy emphasis on healthy foods, our stay in Perth did nothing for our already expanding waistlines. However all the walking and swimming we enjoyed has motivated us to start eating less and exercising more. Watch this space……….

Friday 17th February 2018

What a startlingly beautiful stretch of coastline. We have spent the last week exploring the Margaret River Region in the far South West of Western Australia. Under wide clear skies and impossibly bright sunshine, the colours are breathtakingly vivid. Long white sand beaches, blue and turquoise seas, rocky outcrops and rolling surf.

The stunning beach at Injidup

The area is sparsely populated so these stunnng bays are often deserted even though they are less than an hours drive from the charming seaside town of Dunsborough, where Taryn and Greg have a beach house. The only crowds are seen at the calm town beaches and at the many surf breaks along the shore.

Surfers Point near the mouth of Margaret river is home to pro surfing competitions and attracts surfers from all over the world. Kite surfing is also hugely popular, with the reliable afternoon sea breezes often providing perfect conditions. It is entertaining to stand and watch their antics as they ride the waves with ease, professing how if we were just a bit younger we would, of course, be out there with them.

Watching the kite surfers at Yallingup

Resisting the temptation to jump in we instead went rock climbing, enjoying the smooth granite boulders and the pretty oranges of the sandstone. We have always loved watching waves crashing onto to rocks and it’s been a while, our sailing life has us searching out much calmer seas.

Our favourite spot was Canal Rocks where the granite has eroded to produce ‘canals’ that fill and empty with a cascade of white water from each ocean wave. A large Ray, defying the strong currents, swam into the whirling water, as did, rather worryingly, a young girl, who without the rays swimming ability was washed violently back and forth before managing to grab the side and climb to safety. We chose an easier route using a bridge and some stepping stones to cross the canals and then clambered as high and as far out onto the rocks as we could to take in as close as possible the exhilarating view.

Taryn out on the edge of the Canal Rocks.

Another great place is the natural spa near Injidup. Here you can scramble over giant boulders to reach a protected rock pool where it is safe to enjoy the power of the crashing waves. All is tranquil until a large wave hits the outer rocks, this sends gallons of water gushing over and through the crevasses between the boulders, creating power showers and turning the calm water into a bubbling whirlpool.

Taryn and Rick enjoying the natural spa bath

This region is not just about beaches however, running the length of the coast are numerous vineyards all plying for your trade at their cellar doors. Taryn and Greg took us to their favourite, Vasse Felix. Set in green manicured gardens, modern sculptures greet you on the lawns and between the trees, the modern art theme continuing with a small gallery inside. At the tasting bar we tried eight of their wines, we resisted the $80/bottle of delicious Chardonnay and plumped for a more economical full bodied red to accompany our lunch. The wine was good, the views delightful and the food, exceptional.

A few days later we ventured a bit further south to Boranup Forest. The day was unusually cloudy and as we entered the forest there was a short shower. With the rain came a burst of smells, the scent of eucalyptus, mixed with the tang of damp moss and rich earthy leaf litter. The forest is full of giant Karri trees reaching 90ft tall, they regularly shed their bark in long narrow strips revealing striking trunks of orange, salmon and greys. We were surprised to discover these giants were members of the Eucalyptus family. We are coming to the conclusion that all the trees in Australia, whatever shape or size seem actually to be eucalyptus trees.

Boranup Forest

On our final day we drove down to Smiths Beach, where feeling the name was telling us something, we finally braved the surf. We ate a picnic amongst the colourful dune plants and then went for a swim. The water was surprisingly warm and although we had picked a calm spot, the waves were fun and still strong enough to dump Rick as he stood knee deep taking photos. As he tumbled concentrating on holding tight to the camera, he was stripped of his expensive and vital prescription sunglasses, luckily they miraculously ended up at my feet.

The Smiths at Smith Beach

With a final farewell to this beautiful coast, yesterday we returned to Perth. A few more days to enjoy before our flight back to Sydney.

Friday 9th February 2018

A five hour flight across this huge continent and we arrived in Perth to the welcoming faces of Taryn and Greg. It feels fantastic to shower in a spacious bathroom, with limitless hot water, it’s novel to cook in a proper oven and prepare a meal on the large work tops and most of all go to bed without the responsibility of thinking about the weather, the anchor or whatever else might cause us to sink in the night.

Our stay in Perth seemed to immediately become centred around interesting conversations while drinking great local wine and delicious food. All keen cooks we are having good fun creating meals, sourcing the ingredients from the plethora of specialist butchers and farmers markets that appear to be everywhere here.

The whole of this area, stretched as it is along the coast, is dominated by the Ocean. On our first morning we drove from Taryn and Greg’s house in leafy Wembley the ten minutes to City beach. A brisk SW sea breeze created copious white horses in the deep blue of the sea and with the beach stretching seemingly forever in both directions, we walked down to dip our toes for the first time in many years in the Indian Ocean.

City Beach, Perth

The daily arrival in summer of this cooling sea breeze is nicknamed the Fremantle Doctor relieving everyone from the often uncomfortably hot weather. Temperatures in Perth can regularly sore over 40C, luckily for us Western Australia is experiencing a mild summer with temperatures nearer to 30 C. The use of the word mild in this context sounds very odd to us, in England it is used to describe warm winter conditions. However, which ever word is used, we were glad of the perfect temperatures and enjoyed a lovely lunch of fresh ingredients deliciously combined, while admiring the views.

The following day Taryn and I went to visit the Botanical Gardens in Kings Park. High on a hill it provides excellent views of the city centre and the Swan River. Full of native plants, we wandered chatting, enjoying the calm as we followed a pathway through the trees and shrubs. Our favourite tree in the whole park had to be the beautiful Weeping Variegated Peppermint tree, but also impressive was the famous Boab tree. At 750 years old and right in the middle of a new highway project it has been carefully rescued and transported over 2000 miles south to its current position in the park. I was also rather taken by the grass trees, common to this part of Australia, but strange to us.

Trees in the Botanical Gardens in Kings Park, Perth

In complete contrast to our peaceful day was our evening at the Perth Fringe Festival. Staged each year in February, we joined the throng in the centre of town to enjoy some street food and then a show. Club Swizzle is a slightly outrageous cabaret group, performing comedy, music and acrobatics, we had a thoroughly entertaining and sensational evening.

We had arrived in Perth with one complaint, we had been in Australia for three months now but had not seen one kangaroo! Greg born and bred in Perth sorted that out for us, sending us off to Pinnaroo Memorial Park, a large cemetery planted with native plants and attracting local wildlife.

Kangaroos in Pinnaroo Park

Kangaroos ticked off we repacked our bags, we are off on holiday from our holiday, heading 3hrs south to Taryn and Greg’s beach house in Dunsborough.

Sunday 4th February 2018

Rick has spent much of the past week working in a variety of confined spaces, contorting his stiff joints around corners, down steps and inside small holes, undoing tight bolts and jammed screws, sealing leaks and changing oil, pulling out rusted in impellers and testing batteries. We are tied up back at the Cruising Yacht Club Marina and working our way through a long list of jobs before we leave for Perth tomorrow.

Fixing a fuel leak on the generator

With the generator oil changed and a drip from the fuel pipe sealed, next on the list was changing the engine impeller, unusually for Rick this job defeated him, not able to squeeze into the right position to apply all his strength he just couldn’t get it to budge. What was needed was an engineer who knew all the tricks of the trade and someone perhaps, dare I say, a little younger and more flexible. Fortunately we found one such person that could pop in that day and after much huffing and straining he finally freed it and put in a new one,

Not wanting Rick to suffer his aches and pains alone, Thursday I somehow managed to trip on the pontoon. My fall was particularly ungainly as my main concern was to ensure the backpack I was wearing, that contained as well as groceries a years worth of contact lenses, didn’t end up in the water. Gratefully no one was around and I could escape with, if not my body, at least my pride intact.

So it was that Friday morning found us hobbling up the hill to the station, Rick with tired knees and a stiff back, me with grazed knees and bruised ribs. We were off to catch the train for the 2 hour journey out to the Blue Mountains. Near the top of my list of things to do in Sydney it had been pencilled in for a while, so despite the jobs still to be completed and our rather battered bodies, we decided to carry on with our plans.

The views were incredible. The high plain of sandstone has been eroded over millions of years to create a large canyon like valley. Cracks in the rock and intermittent layers of claystone, coal and shale, that are more easily washed away, have caused the sandstone sides to collapse forming vertical cliffs and striking pillars.

Pillars of rock known as the Three Sisters

We made the mistake of starting our day at the crowded Scenic World. A tourist attraction offering cable cars, skyways and the steepest railway in the world. It would have been a good introduction to the area had it not been full to bursting with coachloads of tour groups. It wasn’t until we escaped along the Prince Henry Cliff Walk that we could really appreciate the full grandeur of the views and the tranquility of the eucalyptus forests. If we were to do this trip again we would start with this dramatic walk giving ourselves more time to enjoy the waterfalls, cascades and trails further along the escarpment.

Walking along the Prince Henry Cliff

However as we had paid for the tickets we returned to Scenic World and took the small train, descending almost vertically into the valley. Protected by the surrounding cliffs from the harsh drying winds and extremes of hot and cold, the valley has its own unique microclimate and is home to a rain forest. We wandered along a boardwalk through tall trees, thick vines and thousands of wonderful large tree ferns, peering up through the canopy to the sheer rock above us. Thankfully there is a cable car back to the top and a hop on hop off bus to return you to Katoomba and the train home.

Wonderful tops of the tree ferns

Back onboard it was back to work. When sailing towards the marina last week the starboard primary winch suddenly started to make a horrible screeching noise. Rick, happy that he could work in the open and especially not on his knees, carefully took it apart, cleaned each of the 27 components, regreassed and oiled as appropriate and put it all back together again. Still the winch screeched. With stoney face and a certain amount of muttering, off it all came again, eventually he traced the noise to the gear coupling to the motor. He was in for another afternoon working in a tiny space, balancing on one leg, bending around the toilet and stretching past cables to remove first the ceiling panels, then the motor. The motor is very heavy and unfortunately his assistant has more brains than brawn and couldn’t reliably take the weight while he battled with the bolts. As luck would have it, in between being engineers mate, I was defrosting the freezer and with the available freezer baskets and books of varying thicknesses we managed to construct a tower to support the motor as it was removed and reattached. After a top up of oil and a thorough clean of the coupling, thankfully it ran perfectly.

Servicing the primary winch motor

Today’s big task was to take down all the canvas work, so it could be sent to the trimmer for a few bits of repair and two zip replacements. We are so use to being cocooned by the sprayhood that it is very odd to sit with a 360 degree view totally exposed to the elements. Luckily the day is pleasant and with just the watermaker to pickle, the bathrooms and kitchen to clean, the decks to tidy, etc. etc….. tomorrow we off on holiday.

Sunday 21st January 2018

Nooooo! Was the plaintive cry, as clambering from the kayak to the swim deck, our beloved much used camera slipped from Ricks shorts into the water and sank almost immediately out of sight. Being too deep to dive down after it and with the evening sun low in the sky, too dark to scuba, our hearts sank too. Why hadn’t we invested in one of those snazzy strap flotation devises, why hadn’t I downloaded all last weeks photos, why hadn’t we passed the camera up by hand as usual!?!?

We pulled ourselves together and swung into action. With the boat swinging back and forth in the brisk breeze I tried to keep my eye on the spot it went in, Rick dug out our marker bouy and dropped it at our best guess of the cameras location. With nothing more to be done until we had more light the next day, we consoled ourselves with a gin and tonic trying hard to enjoy the setting sun.

The next morning we were glad to see the orange buoy still bobbing nearby. Rick kitted up in his scuba gear and descended through the murky water, miraculously after just five minutes he was back camera in hand.. It is waterproof and rated for depths of up to ten metres we were anchored in about nine, but was that ten metres for just an hour or could it survive being at that depth overnight? Apparently yes it could, it seems to have suffered no damage at all from its extended visit to the seabed.

Well done Rick, operation rescue camera completed successfully.

We continue to spend our time criss crossing Sydney Harbour as weather, provisioning and activities dictate. We started this week in Blackwattle Bay. The southerlies from the weekend continued to keep the temperatures cool, so being in the city centre we took the opportunity to be tourists for a couple of days.

We wandered around the maritime museum which displays Australia’s rich maritime history. Then went outside to look around the 1970’s submarine they have on display. Basically just one long corridor from front to back with bunks squeezed in between a maze of piping, pressure gauges, pumps and engines. The mind boggles as to how 69 men lived so dreadfully cramped together for so long. We had first visited the HMAS Onslow about 15 years ago, now ocean going sailors ourselves different questions come to mind; How did they cope with all the heat from the massive engines? How did they make water and how on earth did they manage to fix that joint buried behind a metre deep tangle of pipes?

Not much more spacious were the conditions on the Endevour, the ship that in 1770 James Cook first sailed to Australia but at least the crew onboard her could escape on deck. The ship in Sydney is a replica of the original and actually still sails, in fact she is off to New Zealand next month, we’re certainly glad we don’t have all that rigging to contend with.

The Endeavour moored in Darling Harbour.

Wednesday we walked to the Rocks, an historical area with many original sandstone buildings and cottages from the first development of Sydney by the early settlers. Historically it was a rough area occupied by convicts and run by gangs, even up until the 1970’s it was so run down it was nearly demolished. Now properties are snapped up by wealthy Sydneyites and being next to the cruise liner dock, it is a busy tourist area full of museums, old pubs and art shops. Luckily there was no ship in the day we were there and we found plenty of room to sit, enjoy views of the harbour and eat a very nice lunch.

The promised improved weather moved in on Thursday and we moved out to Manly. We were there to pick up a friends daughter and a couple of her friends for a day on the boat. We filled up with goodies for lunch and picked them up from the ferry terminal.

We love the Push-me Pull-you ferries that run every half an hour between Manly and Central quay in the city.

We all had a great day, chatting, eating and drinking, in fact so pleasant were the beach anchorages. Rick and I decided to spend the weekend off Store Beach. A very popular spot but the crowds don’t seem to appear until around midday and all disappear again around 6pm and so even at the weekends there is plenty of time and space to enjoy a swim, take out the kayak or lose a camera.

Anchored off Store Beach

Monday 15th January 2018

With Sydney’s record breaking temperatures hitting the World news last week, here on the ground, we are surprised not so much by the hight of the mercury but by just how changeable the weather is. One moment we are baking at over 30C the next day the thermometer is struggling to break 20C and winds go from nonexistence to blowing a gale within hours but we are beginning to see a pattern emerging.

As a high pressure system sets in, warm northerly winds that are enhanced by afternoon sea breezes lead to pleasant clear days. When the temperatures rise and a low trough threatens, thunder storms break out. These can be quite violent with high winds, hail and dramatic lightening. As the low passes through it drags in southerlies which having come up from the Antarctic are cool and can often be very strong. Then it’s back to high pressure and the cycle starts over.

This week we have been anchored in a Cove in Middle Harbour. Middle Harbour is a branch of waterways to the north of the main harbour that is similar to those at Pittwater and Cowan Creek. Hidden away up a creek we had until yesterday been mostly protected from these vagaries of the weather.

To enter the inner part of the harbour you have to pass through a lifting bridge. The Spit bridge carries one of Sydney’s busy routes north and opens briefly at four or five set times each day. Promptly at 1.15pm last Monday afternoon we squeezed through the surprisingly narrow gap and motored upstream to find a quiet anchorage.

Passing through Spit Bridge

A couple of miles on we found a great spot off Sugarloaf Bay in Castle Cove and settled in. After two days anchored off the busy Manly beaches and a few rather rocky nights at the marina, it was bliss to be absolutely still. The scent of eucalyptus trees that covered the banks wafted in the air and the drone of cicadas filled our ears. We planned to spend a few days here, carrying on with maintenance jobs, catching up with some admin and just enjoying the calm.

On our first evening however we discovered we had some noisy neighbours living in the hills. Just before dusk and around dawn each day, we’d be deafened by an cocophony of squawking. Large white birds were fighting and flapping in the trees above us, we took out the binoculars, they had lemon coloured crests and markings on their wings. A few taps later and a Google search revealed them to be Sulphur Crested Cockatoos and all the fuss was as they jostled for the best roosting spots in the hollows that form in the older eucalyptus trees.

Unfortunately the cockatoos were too far away, especially in the fading light to get a photo, unlike this Pied Cormorant, who not wanting to give up his place in the sun, let us very slowly approach within a few metres.

Pied Cormorant sunning himself

With such flat water we could break out the kayak and in the dingy go quite a way to explore. About two and a half miles further on we discovered tiny Echo Point Marina and decided to stop for lunch. In a perfect location surrounded by parkland with views over the water, the food was excellent and the service friendly. However as seems to be becoming a theme in Australia, getting ashore was not as straight forward as it first appeared. A dingy dock sat right outside the restaurant but as soon as we arrived, an agitated waiter appeared to warn us that the marina would charge us $30 to tie up the dingy and it would be better to go across to the beach and walk around. No big deal but just another small signal that even at a marina, with money to spend, visiting yachties aren’t particularly welcome.

Castle cove has just a few houses that overlook it high in the hills. But the harbour itself is more crowded and a popular city suburb. The houses are all built on the almost vertical banks on three or sometimes four levels. Running up to the road above or the shore below they have very steep steps, some have installed small lifts. As in Pittwater each shoreside property has its own jetty and pretty boathouse, in fact the boathouses are often nicer than the large properties above them.

Pretty boat house in Powder Hulk Bay

Back onboard Raya we slowly ticked off more jobs. Flags, charts and generator spares ordered; tick, tax returns filed; big tick, hot water tank coil replaced; hooray and raw water filters cleaned; urgh! The engine raw water filter was full of jellyfish!

Jelly fish swimming in the engine raw water filter!

After a pleasant week hiding from the worst of the winds and watching the thunders storms in the distance, the weather cycles finally caught up with us. A band of strong chilly southerly winds has been passing over New South Wales and Sunday blustery gusts started to blast into the cove, as our anchor chain stretched out, our picturesque spot began to feel rather small and the rocky edges rather close. We moved out into the bay only to have our anchor chain wrap around something on the bottom. This drastically reduced our swing and bought us far too close to a large motor yacht. Accompanied by horrible shudderers and graunching we slowly and as carefully as possible lifted the anchor back in. We returned to the centre of Castle Cove and spent a unsettled night with a close eye on the anchor alarm.

This morning we decided to stick to our plan of returning to the city and motored back through a very rough Sydney Harbour to Blackwattle Bay. It is still blowing a gale but one of the good things about cycles is that you can rely on them to keep turning, calmer conditions and warmer northerlies are forecast to return Wednesday or Thursday.

Monday 8th January 2018

With the outskirts of Sydney peaking at 47C yesterday we have finally been for a swim in Australia. We seem to have been in marinas, up muddy creeks or surrounded by jelly fish. The winds have often been chilly, the sea rough or the water full of other craft. The forecast for a heatwave on Sunday persuaded us to head out of the city to the beaches just south of Manly Harbour. Here the temperatures were a cooler 32C but hot enough to persuade us in. And fantastic it felt too, why we asked ourselves had we been putting it off so long.

First dip for a while

We had started the week anchored off this very same beach , not swimming, a chilly southerly was lowering the temperatures and creating a lively chop. We were here instead to say farewell to our friends from Moonshadow who in the morning were sailing north to Brisbane from where they are shipping the boat back to Mexico. We have had a lot of fun together over the last few months, we will miss them.

In time honoured tradition the New Year has brought our thoughts around to the year ahead. In the hope of beginning to tick a few things off the “while in Australia’ list we booked in for a few days in the marina at the famous Cruising Yacht Club of Australia.

The CYCA organise the Sydney to Hobart yacht race and is the home to many of the racing yachts we watched leaving the Harbour on Boxing Day. With top speeds of 25kts some are already back and with each boat protected from the sun by a tent shaped canvas awning it felt a little like been moored in a campsite.

Raked masts and protective awnings of the CYC racing fleet.

With our port of registration, Southampton, clearly printed on the transom and the British ensign flying, here halfway around the world we are use to ‘pontoon voyeurs’ coming up to look at Raya. This time however nobody had eyes for us, they were all coming to view our neighbour – Ichi Ban, the star and overall winner of this year’s race.

Getting back to the tasks in hand we launched into the long screed of jobs that need doing before we set off from Australia later in the year. As is always the way with new places the first few days can be frustrating, the chandlery seemed very expensive, cooking gas refill appeared impossible, potential repairs to the sprayhood zips unsatisfactory……… At over $120 a night we wanted to keep this visit brief but we will be back in February to leave Raya tied up while we fly to Perth. Hopefully by then the research we have done and the leads we have secured this time will start coming together.

One benefit to being in marina is that we can tell people exactly where we are, it was lovely to have had visits from three sets of friends and family. And, being in a marina full of racing yachts that have no antifoul on their keels means that divers equipped with cleaning tools are every where. We slipped out of our berth with two months of barnacles and growth scraped from our bottom.

Ashley comes to tea

Christmas trees are everywhere, decorations adorn the streets and the presents are wrapped but however hard we try it’s just all wrong. With temperatures in the 30’s, light summer evenings and no turkey to cook, our brains can’t except it’s Christmas.

Unseasonal as it may feel, Sydney remains in every other way a wonderful city. As we have explored the sights and wandered the local area we have been struck again, despite the crowds, how clean and well laid out everywhere is. The modern shiny glass towers sit comfortably amongst the few remaining grand red brick Victorian buildings. One moment you are in a busy tourist spot, the next in a quiet square surrounded by tall trees and traditional houses. Small islands of green sneak in wherever possible and the harbour shoreline is omnipresent.

As I think I have mentioned before we are not very good tourists, we tend to avoid the crowds but we couldn’t be in Sydney without a visit to the Opera House. Built over 14 yrs and opening in 1973 it’s sculptural elegance is as good close up as it is from afar. We were glad to see that the powers that be haven’t been tempted to overwhelm it with tacky restaurants and shops, the empty space around it acting to set it off to full effect.

The Opera House from the land.

Darling Harbour on the other hand has been completely built up since our last visit, every square inch given over in the pursuit of tourist dollars. We have eaten in the crowded restaurants here twice now and unfortunately both times the food has been average, the service poor and the bill exorbitant.

Also full to bursting was the shopping district around George Street, harassed but mostly smiling Christmas shoppers rushing to buy last minute gifts. In the middle of this mayhem we were struck by how easily people of all nationalities mingle together here, an amicable acceptance of each other rarely seen in other large cities. At the entrance to Darling Harbour near the wharf where for hundreds of years, thousands of ships arrived with peoples from across the World, is a celebration of their diversity, the Welcome Wall. Nearly 30,000 names, picked out in bronze, are listed so far and anyone who themselves or who’s ancestors immigrated here can apply to have their names added and a short history of their lives stored in the archives.

While Rick joined the throng to finish his Christmas shopping, I went to see the Cathedral. It’s 100 yr old architecture is surrounded by modern high rises and it’s Christmas tree, bathed in warm sunshine, is surrounded by summer flowers. Happy Down Under Christmas everybody.

Sydney Cathedral with its modern backdrop and it’s Christmas tree surrounded by summer flowers.

Iconic View from the cockpit

Saturday 16th December 2017

It had felt like an impossible dream, the chance to sail into Sydney Harbour. About a thousand miles south of the traditional Around the World route it had looked too far out of our way. However by spending an extra winter in the Pacific Islands we have another cyclone season to fill south of the tropics, so here we are. Tuesday afternoon we droped our anchor just metres from the opera house, the harbour bridge looming in the background.

An hour earlier we had excitedly turned into Port Jackson the entrance to Sydney Harbour and were met by a scene of frenetic activity. As we tried to concentrate on finding the channel, distractions were everywhere. Two beautiful 90ft racing boats came past, impossibly heeled over, well trained crew sitting on the rail, an international regatta of a hundred or so sailing dinghies filled the waters to our left, power boats, sailing boats, fishing launches came from behind and towards us and powering through it all, keeping determinedly to their course, were numerous large and fast ferries. We cautiously made our way through the chaos, camera poised ready to capture the first view of the city centre.

First glimpse of the centre of Sydney

We motored into Farm Cove right next to the Opera House, dropped the anchor and drank a very special “got here beer”. Unfortunately unprotected from the busy harbour it was far too bouncy to stay for long, so after taking the compulsory Opera House and Bridge shots we moved under the bridge and into Balls Bay further upstream.

Celebratory “got here beer”

Balls Bay was protected from the worst of the harbour chop but had no obvious place to leave the dingy. Determined to enjoy our first night out on the town, with our friends from Moonshadow we tied the dingy to a steep ladder on the waterfront. We climbed with difficulty on to the wharf only to find ourselves in a gated apartment complex. With no clear way out it took us a while but eventually we found the road and took a taxi to Darling Harbour for dinner. On our return, with a falling tide, the ladder was even more precarious and the now revealed bottom rungs encrusted with razor sharp Oyster shells, not exactly an ideal place for a rubber dingy. This was not going to be the place to restock.

Fantastic as it is to be in the middle of such a great city, Sydney turns out to be rather difficult for cruising yachts. The marinas are expensive and, at least until the Sydney to Hobart racing boats leave Boxing Day, all are completely full. Anchorages are few and far between and getting ashore for groceries and to enjoy the sights is proving difficult. To complicate things further the water upstream of the bridge is full of diesel from the ferries and too dirty for our watermaker.

After much googling we found a marina where for $30 we could tie up to the shopping pontoon for a few hours and visit the grocery store. We made the best of our time, I managed to get to the hairdressers, Rick took a taxi to the Chandlers and we stocked up with food but there was no fresh water. With the water tanks almost empty we motored back under the bridge and out to Rose Bay. It wasn’t the most comfortable of anchorages, Raya being rocked continuously by the harbour traffic but it had a nice beach for stretching our legs, a dock for the dingy and clean water. However with the weather deteriorating we decided a wet and bouncy trip ashore could wait and instead were entertained by a stream of motor yachts that anchored close by full to bursting with Christmas revellers. We watched as the storm approached and the sky darkened, a fleet of yachts appeared around the headland, undeterred by the lightening they raced around a mark just a few hundred metres behind us. We sat in the cockpit enjoying the action and the peculiarly atmospheric light.

Turneresque scene as the storm closes in

We have now returned to the inner harbour and are currently anchored in Blackwattle Bay right in the centre of town, there are no less than two dingy docks, shops and sights are close by and it is calm. It does have a few downsides, it sits next to a noisy flyover, it is rather shallow for us, at low tide we have just a metre to spare under our keel and the water is too contaminated for the watermaker. But with our water tanks full from our trip to Rose Bay we can at last take some time to enjoy the city.

Sunday 10th December 2017

We are cocooned far up the aptly named Smiths Creek. It is very, very still, the mirror like water reflecting the trees and slabs of rock that cover the almost vertical sides of this waterway. The sun, yet to be high enough to appear above the steep hills, highlights their tops in a magical yellow glow, bird song and the incessant high pitched drone of the cicadas fills the air. I love this early morning tranquility, despite and possibly because of its fleeting nature.

A large passenger jet crosses the sky, it’s noisy engines breaking the spell and reminding me that regardless of the appearance of being deep inside the bush, we are in fact only twenty or so miles from one of the Worlds major cities and just around the corner from busy Pittwater.

We left the RMYC marina Wednesday morning and headed out of Pittwater back into Broken Bay and then down into Cowan Creek, a seven mile narrow tidal creek with a dozen or so bays and inlets joining it. Our first stop was Jerusalem Bay, where near it’s deserted head we dropped the anchor and took in the scenery. The water was deep and dark, flourishing but spindly trees appeared to grow straight from bare stone, dramatic striated outcrops of limestone rock and vertical cliff faces line the shore.

Raya anchored in Jerusalem Bay

A white breasted sea eagle, sits on nearby branches, king of all he surveys but we see few other birds. The odd splash and the success of a group of local boys with their rod, suggests the presence of fish but in the rather murky water all we see are large plump jelly fish. A few boats come and go, the attraction is a rope that hangs down the cliff face on the opposite bank, once climbed the youngsters jump the 30ft from a rocky overhang back into the water. We guess this means the jelly fish are harmless but the green water doesn’t tempt us in.

Sea Eagle takes flight

Frday morning the still water, overcast skies and light wind, instead,were perfect conditions for a trip up the mast to check the fittings, do some cleaning and a get great picture of Raya.

Raya from the top of the mast

At dusk as the angle of the sun lengthens and the light changes we appear worryingly close to the stone walls that surround us and with the dragging of our anchor a few weeks ago, even a small amount of wind keeps us nervously fixated on the anchor alarm. Our canyon like setting funnels the breeze along its length, but luckily it’s protected location amongst the complex of waterways that make up this area means that even as an infamous East Coast Low came in the winds were never too high. Our two position tracks have had us holding steady at both anchorages.

The low did however disrupt lunch with our friends from Moonshadow. Luckily we had opted not to have a BBQ, but just a few mouthfuls into our meal we were scuttling quickly below with our plates and glasses as what proved to be torrential rain started to encroached into the cockpit. Soon the downpour was accompanied by thunder and then, for a time, by marble sized hail.

Stormy weather

With the sunshine back and the weekend in full flow the hordes have arrived, Smiths Creek appears to be a popular spot. The local boats definitely prefer to tie up to moorings, with the few available buoys snapped up early, all around us boats jostle for a space with shallow enough water for there rarely used anchors and shortish chains. Hopefully things will quieten down by nightfall. Then for us it’s on to Sydney.

Jelly Fish the size of basket balls

Monday 4th December 2017

Early morning tea – Leaving Port Stephens

At first light last Tuesday morning we upped the anchor and left Fingal Bay for the 70nm trip to Pittwater. The decks were still soaked from the previous afternoons storm but the humid air of the past couple of days had gone and the sky was clear and bright. The wind hardly rose into double figures so yet again we were motoring, still the sea was calm and the temperature pleasant. As with the last trip we saw plenty of dolphins, many of whom joined us for the ride.

Dolphins riding our bow wave

We were a little anxious about our arrival in Pittwater as we had been warned that the bays were stuffed with boats on moorings and that finding a spot to anchor might be difficult. Pittwater is one of four waterways that radiate from Broken Bay, the deep protected estuary of the Hawskbury River. Just 25miles north from the centre of Sydney it is an extremely popular spot. I don’t think we have ever seen so many boats in one place, sailing yachts, motor yachts, work boats, racing dinghies, jet skis, kayaks, every sort of watercraft imaginable, all jostling for space.

A forest of masts fills our view south

Knowing we couldn’t be choosy, we picked what seemed like a clear spot behind the large mooring field in Careel Bay and dropped the anchor. Surrounding us were steep wooded slopes full of upmarket houses, the properties fronting the water all boasted extensive views, numerous balconies and private jetties. Instead of wildlife spotting, our dingy safari took us real estate viewing, a very picturesque place to live but we suspect most were just holiday homes, besides the gardeners and maintenance men there were little signs of life. Surprisingly, there was a bit of an English West Country seaside feel to it, the tangy seaweed aroma, the call of the seagulls, the enclosing high hills, we couldn’t quite put our finger on it.

Foreshore in Careel Bay, Pittwater

With permission we tied the dingy to the sea plane dock, crossed the small beach and made our way through the houses. This was the first time we had set foot ashore since we left Southport, it felt good to stretch our legs, we found a small cafe and sat down for a coffee. However this was a residential area and there was nothing else but houses, not a shop in sight, with supplies getting low and a forecast for more storms we took out the phone and found ourselves a marina berth a few miles further into the Pittwater inlet.

For the past four days we have been tied up to the outer dock of the friendly Royal Motor Yacht Club, the fridge is now full but the weather is still very changeable. Today we are sitting out a second band of wet and windy weather, a chilly south wind blowing in through the hatches, with not much improvement expected tomorrow we have extended our stay for another couple of days.

Yesterday, on the other hand, it was lovely and taking advantage of the convenient yacht club curtesy bus, we went to the local beach. The sunshine had bought out the Sunday crowds, surfers shared the waves with a small pod of dolphins, groups of youngsters practiced their lifesaving skills and families picnicked on the orange coloured sand. As we walked down the beach, the hot surface burning our feet, taking in the happy scene in front of us we wished we’d thought to bring our swimmers. Until that was, we dipped our toes into the sea – it was freezing!

Besides the warm tropical waters, something we are beginning to miss from our Pacific island life is that nobody cared or even noticed what you are wearing. Everyone was far more interested in your journey so far, your best tips for snorkelling spots, what type of watermaker you have……. Now, however, back in the real world of shopping centres, restaurants and swish yacht clubs, the island cruiser look of crumpled clothes, home cut, sun bleached hair, bare feet and grazed shins has began to feel rather scruffy. Having arrived in Pittwater, there is a distinct possibility, that we will be shamed into breaking out the iron.

Monday 27th November 2017

‘Hang on, I’ll just get the phone out of the oven’ is not a phase one uses every day, nor luckily is ‘Rick come quick we are dragging’. Port Stephens has not been one of our best stops.

The sail down from Southport was really enjoyable, we could have done with a bit more wind but the days were warm and sunny and the nights starlit. Dolphins, birds and the beaches and mountains of the New South Wales coast provided distraction. Also keeping us on our toes, whisking us southwards at occasionally over 4kts, was the Australian East Coast current. Unfortunately, this was not part of the passage plan, we were aiming to get to the entrance to Port Stephens on slack tide at first light on Saturday. We needed to slow down but still had to keep just enough boat speed through the water to give us steerage, so sails were reefed within an inch of their lives and when motoring the revs were kept as low as the engine would run. Our efforts were not in vain, after two days of fine tuning we arrived exactly as planned at 8am but we were left with the worrying thought of the more difficult job we will have when trying to get back North in the spring.

Four knots of current as we sailed south down the Australian East Coast.

Friday afternoon the sky had been streaked with high clouds, these horse tails may be beautiful but are a sure sign that the bright, calm weather, brought by a large high pressure system lingering over the Tasman sea, would soon be coming to an end.

And indeed the next day the wind began to increase as did the cloud. The combination of strong north easterly winds and shallow water made Port Stephens, with its predominantly north facing anchorages, difficult for our deep drafted boat. We had been told of a small secluded bay, that looked as if it would be protected, unfortunately it too was a bit shallow for us to anchor in very close and we remained in the outer bay exposed to the winds. However it was nice enough and we settled down for the day. We took the dingy around the wooded shore and spotted reef herons, a cormorant and oyster catchers, we ate a nice lunch and then went below to read. I couldn’t quite explain it but I began to feel something was wrong and went to investigate, shocked I realised we were dragging our anchor, slowly drifting out of the bay. Why our anchor, which has not let us down even once right across the Pacific, would suddenly after five hours holding us steady in the 20kt winds, start to drag is a mystery. Suspecting weed or a soft muddy bottom we inched into the bay as far as we dared and re-anchored putting out an absurd amount of chain, set the anchor alarm and enjoyed sundowners with our friends on Moonshadow.

As is our habit before going to bed we checked the stern light to see what it might have attracted. Sunday night we were delighted to find a large pelican lurking around our stern. With his ludicrously long beak, the fish, star struck by the light, were easy pickings.

Pelican fishing around the back of the boat

This morning the change in the weather continued, the sky was overcast and the air humid, we took Raya to look at a couple of other anchorages. We motored laboriously through the shallow channels that run between the sand banks that fill Port Stephens, but didn’t really feel happy in any of the targeted spots. Once the north winds on the back edge of the high pressure pass by, southerly winds will arrive, trapping us inside the Port for possibly a week, we decided to move on while we still could.

We lifted the dingy and in pouring rain, with thunder and lightening threatening in the distance, moved out of Port Stephens to Fingal Bay. Fingal Bay lies just outside the entrance, deep and protected it will give us a fast get away in the morning for the seventy mile trip down to our next stop Pittwater. As the storm moved off, we rescued the small electronics from the oven, where they had been put, in the hope that the oven, working as a Faraday Cage, would save them if lightening did hit and were treated to a fabulous sunset. It was a stunning spot and it was a real treat to have such a bright end to a rather dull day.

Moonshadow bathed in the amazing light of the setting sun