A Night in Memory Cove

 

The forecast for light southerlies had us anchor up in Port Lincoln and motoring out of the harbor the same way we came in, around the bottom of Boston Island and out past Donington Light. We took this opportunity to motor against light adverse winds to position ourselves for a good sail when the forecast S/SE winds increased tomorrow and we were heading west.

We had planned to anchor at Williams Island, but the locals claimed the holding and protection was better at Memory Cove, about 20nm south of Port Lincoln. Sound local knowledge is always solicited and appreciated.

As always, we're interested in the history of the places we anchor. On 21 February 1802, Matthew Flinders' expedition suffered a loss of crew in South Australian waters. Ship master, John Thistle, midshipman William Taylor and six seamen were drowned when their cutter capsized while searching for fresh water. The seamen were J. Little, George Lewis, John Hopkins, William Smith, Thomas Grindall and Robert Williams. Flinders, who had hand-chosen his crew, was deeply affected by this disaster and recorded place names including Thorny Passage, Memory Cove, Cape Catastrophe, and Thistle Island to commemorate the lives lost. He named islands in this area for all of his lost men.

As we passed by and between the islands honoring those lost, traveling the same waters as they had, and as we anchored in Memory Cove, we couldn't help but wonder exactly what happened and how devastated Flinders must have felt to lose competent crew and good mates. How fortunate we are that Flinders did the exploration, surveying and charting he did, much of which is still in use today.

A local yacht, Claire Allen, ran aground on Thistle Island over this past weekend when they snagged a craypot line and fouled their propeller. All three men made it to shore safely and were rescued quickly. The yacht, however, was on the rocks in minutes. A reminder that even now with all of our modern technology and information, it takes only a second for a catastrophe to hit and your whole world to change.

As for us, we found a suitable, safe anchorage in Memory Cove and remembering the history of this place, we raised a toast to the men lost and thank the gods of wind and sea that they continue to protect this ship and crew. I might add that in an associated article about the grounding of the Claire Allen, a fishing boat hit a catamaran anchored off Memory Cove. We put an extra anchor light on tonight.

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.