Port Lincoln Arrival

 

Port Lincoln is a rather large fishing town on the Eyre Peninsular across the Lower Spencer Gulf about 65 nm NW of West Cape. We were up before daybreak again, but decided to wait till we had some light to spot cray pots. As it turns out, we waited, but we never spotted any. Had we not waited …

Well, you know how that goes.

In a word, the sailing today was an absolute delight. The trip across the rollers at the bay entrance was a non-event … the rollers had dissipated to small swells and we cruised right through them. The S/SE winds hovered between 12-18 knots as we skirted across the gulf, unhurried and enjoying the day.

Gannets, plummeting from the sky at breakneck speeds into the water, joined the mollymawks, sooty shearwaters and fluttering shearwaters we've been spotting. After a dive or two, the gannets would light on the water for a rest, their yellow heads an easy identifier for us. Bottlenose dolphins jumped high out of the water and played in our bow wake, but eluded photographs. (Sigh!)

We threaded the needle between Cape Donington to port and Donington Reef to starboard, the lighthouse on the point a solid reminder of why it was there. The reef to starboard was covered with sea birds, loud and raucous as if cheering us on.

We sailed on through the narrow channel, expecting a mighty blast as we turned the corner for the last leg into Port Lincoln and we weren't disappointed. The apparent 18 knots of downwind became 25 knots on the beam in a hurry and the sail to the bottom of Boston Island was exhilarating as we kept pace with the fishing boats returning with their day's catch.

A 12-hour day and we were passing Brennan's Jetty with its bright turquoise green grain loading terminals. A tug came around the corner of the jetty heading out to pilot in a Chinese ship waiting to be loaded.

As we turned into Boston Bay, the wind calmed, the water stilled and we spotted the Port Lincoln Yacht Club in the distance. A lovely, wide open anchorage awaited us along with a glass of wine and good night's sleep.

Heading to Port Lincoln...the long way

 

Having waited patiently a day for more favorable winds, we were up at 0-dark-thirty ready to take off. We checked the updated weather forecasts; everyone was in agreement for S/SW winds 18-21 knots, perfect for our trip. We were anchor up and heading out of Kingscote Harbour by 0615 in the dark, cold and rain, but the wind was promising. Destination: Port Lincoln on the Eyre Peninsular, about 130 nm away to the northwest with an overnight anchorage stop at West Cape en route.

The rain shower took a break as we rounded the markers on the lights on the east end of Beatrice Islets. The sun came out brightly for a moment and a pale, but discernible rainbow arced over Kingscote. A couple of dolphins bid us farewell. We took this as a good sign.

About two hours into the passage, the wind shifted to the WSW (250º) with 30+ gusts. The waves were short period and choppy about 1.5-2m … think of riding in a washing machine on “agitate mode” to conjure up the image. We figured we'd tough it through until David noticed a problem with the jib furler drum. We are not competitors in a race. We are not keen to be uncomfortable or unsafe. Emu Bay seemed a likely place to turn in, get respite from the winds and make the repair.

So … here we are, anchored in Emu Bay, late afternoon … no emus in sight. The jib furler is repaired, minor issue, but glad we caught it when we did. We'll spend the night here, enjoying the reasonably calm water while the wind howls around us and a mile away, the white caps in Investigator Strait continue to build. We'll try again tomorrow. This is how it goes with sailing sometimes.

Weather Windows

 

Didn't I just talk about making plans and how we're going to try to stick to a schedule? Well, we're a day behind schedule already. One thing you can't control on a boat … the weather. You really have to “go with the flow” or stay put. On land, in a car … you plan to go somewhere on Saturday, you go … unless you're in Wisconsin, for instance, and you're up to your eyeballs in snow. There are some no-go situations, but it usually doesn't depend upon the direction the wind is blowing. For the most part, your travel is not limited by weather and wind.

We had planned to leave this morning for Port Lincoln. The sun is shining, but the wind is blowing … from the west … the direction we want to go. So instead, we're spending the day aboard and taking the opportunity to catch up with some writing and reading. Tomorrow looks more promising wind-wise, but then there are the waves to think about. This is the way it goes with sailing. Sometimes you just wait.

We've spent as much as two weeks in some places waiting for a good weather window to appear. It takes patience. Sometimes we wait for storms to pass, but usually it's because the wind is blowing in the wrong direction and close hauled sailing, beating into the wind is not pleasant, nor is it fast. We've had times when we've gone backwards and lost miles during a passage. Tacking angles are flat, especially when the seas are big, and you go north or south or backwards, but never west … the direction you really want to head. How often do you go backwards in your car … unless you're in reverse?

We use several weather predicting tools to help us make our plans. There are the GRIBs which provide a big synoptic picture of what the weather is doing and what we can expect. There's the local weather forecasts … in our case, Australian BOM (Bureau of Meterology) and there's also Willie Weather. We also use BuoyWeather, an annual subscription service that uses “virtual buoys” to predict wind and waves and weather along our travel path. They're all helpful, although sometimes they all disagree. And quite honestly, as good as weather prediction is nowadays, the wind and sea gods always make the final decisions and once you're out there, you get what you get.

So we wait and hopefully, we'll be off tomorrow!