Esperance to Bremer Bay

 

We regretfully left Esperance after nine lovely days and headed west towards Albany, our next port of call. With early morning light winds, we opted to leave a little later than usual and do an overnight run to Bremer Bay, ~135 nm miles away, as a stop in between. A late departure ensured a daylight arrival which we prefer, especially when we're searching for sand patches in which to anchor.

The winds were not quite as predicted … what a surprise! The forecast of 18-25 knots were mostly from the south, not SE, and a bit more boisterous than anticipated. We saw gusts to 40 knots and sustained winds in the high 20's for most of the night. We moved along rather briskly in bumpy, rolly conditions … the persistent southwest swell was up to 3 meters (~10') and the southerly waves built with the winds, making for very confused seas. We managed, but I was glad I had a passage soup ready to heat and eat with little fuss and minimal time below deck.

The night was clear and beautiful. A sliver of a crescent moon glowed in the sky, but it was short-lived and had already set before David took over watch at 9pm. The stars took over the sky, twinkling and sparkling in a brilliant display. The pungent smell of smoke was thick in the air … farmers miles away doing controlled burns of their autumn fields.

A loud crash during David's watch around 0400 had us both scurrying into the galley. The gimbal on the stove had broken. The gimbal pin looked to be sheared off (after only 28 years … things just don't hold up any more). There was my poor stove laying a-tilt, a kettle of passage soup teetering precariously close to toppling off. The soup secure, David lifted the stove out of the other gimbal, set it down on the base beneath and lashed it in place. It still worked, just a bit low for convenient use. Something to repair in Bremer Bay, perhaps?

We had little to no sleep during the night and the sunrise was candy for the eyes. Pinks, purples, oranges filled the sky and lent a rosy hue to the grey ocean waters behind us.

Our approach and anchorage in Bremer Bay in the early morning was more than welcome. Bremer Bay is just beautiful. The anchorage is fringed with a white sand beach. The clear, aquamarine waters were absolutely dazzling and a-sparkle with the bright morning sun. There were lots of people on the beach … camping, walking, fishing … most stopped to watch us anchor. Not much to watch, the anchor caught immediately. We tidied up and headed below for a quick cuppa and a long, well-deserved nap.

That's our day/night at sea … I'm thinking your day on land was a bit more exciting and less bumpy ... and your stove's probably not broken.

Esperance...

First Port of Call in Western Australia

We headed out of the Hammer Head anchorage just after sunrise for the final leg of the passage to Esperance, our first port of call in Western Australia. It was calm after a blustery night and all was fine as we started our 42nm run until we noted that the bilge pump was on (not unusual) … and stayed on for a rather long period of time (unusual). David added an LED light panel in the cockpit which alerts us to several occurrences that we might otherwise not notice. This was one of them. What was up?

I took the helm while David went to investigate below. Up came floorboards. Yes, there was definitely quite a bit of water. Where from? More floorboards came up. It was a leaking shaft seal and it was spurting water “rather copiously”, as David put it. The bilge pump could keep up with the incoming flow, but the problem shaft seal needed attention post haste. It appeared the shaft seal coupling had slipped out of place on the shaft and needed to be repositioned and secured. An hour later, all was handled and good, no more leaking and we continued on our way to Esperance, a bit more frazzled than anticipated.

The last town of any size visited was Streaky Bay on the other side of the Bight, a couple of weeks ago, and so we were looking forward to Esperance with pleasant anticipation. As we made our way closer and closer to the port, wonderfully magic things started to happen. We had an internet signal, for instance. We heard some ship radio traffic. We saw a wind farm on the hills. Hallelujah!

Heading into Esperance Port, there were several big ships at anchor. The port was originally developed during the gold rush years of the 1890's and today is the largest nickel concentrate exporting port in the southern hemisphere. The Port is also a major grain exporting hub and handles bulk imports such as fuel and fertilisers.

Back in Streaky Bay, friends aboard Zofia had given us some contacts for the Esperance Bay Yacht Club and I'd sent a couple of emails to suss out the area. I received responses within hours of sending the emails. On arrival, Mark and Del on the local yacht, Norlee, were waiting for us and guided us via VHF to the yacht club mooring to which we are currently tied and sitting comfortably in the bay.

Tomorrow, we'll take an exploratory walk into town, but tonight … we've given a tot of rum to honor Neptune and now we'll relax and enjoy the champers that's chilling to celebrate our successful crossing of the Great Australian Bight.

Sailing the Recherche Archipelago

 

L'Archipel de la Recherche (aka Recherche Archipelago), known by the locals as the Bay of Isles, is an extraordinarily beautiful cruising area, but chock-a-block full of islands, islets, reefs, shoals, rocks (some submerged, some not) and other natural obstructions that make the sailing here a challenge. There are 105 islands in the group and over 1500 islets, most of which are designated as part of a 24,000-acre nature reserve. According to our Western Australian Cruising Guide, there exists “over 1200 obstacles to shipping”. Matthew Flinders, who charted the area in 1802, described the archipelago as “an extensive mass of dangers”.

Francois Thijssen, the same Dutch navigator that discovered and named St. Francis Island, passed through the area in 1627. It was the French explorer, Bruni d'Entrecasteaux, who named the group of islands L’Archipel de la Recherche in 1792 after one of the Rear Admiral's ships, La Recherche. The nearby port of Esperance, our next port of call, is named for the other ship in the same expedition.

There have been, not surprisingly, quite a few shipwrecks in the area, the largest of which was the Sanko Harvest in 1991, a bulk carrier that sank to become the second largest vessel in the world that can be dived on. And of course, as previously reported, these islands, Middle Island, in particular, was the hangout for Black Jack Anderson.

Many of the islands are steep-to granite outcrops, while other islets are limestone and coral barely rising above sea level. Most larger islands are vegetated similarly to Daw Island with low bush and shrubs and all seem to support animals and birdlife. Some have small marsupials like bandicoots and tammars, others have sea lion and penguin colonies, but snakes and rats seem to be the most prevalent species.

I tell you all this because that's where we are … threading our way, betwixt, between and around islands and islets, reefs and shoals, rocks and other hard spots in the Recherche Archipelago, as we make our way west to the port of Esperance. It's hard to imagine negotiating all these hazards without the aid of GPS and charts that we have available to us today. It's a slalom course even with all of our fine navigational aids, gadgets and electronics.

We left The Keyhole around 0700 this morning heading into the Recherche melange. A pretty day, but we didn't have much wind. The RayMarine GPS died on start-up this morning. Yes, we have several more GPS's aboard … not to worry ... just another repair or replacement on the growing to-do list.

We wended our way ~40nm west and anchored in 30 knots of wind (really? just when we start anchoring?) at Hammer Head anchorage. It's brisk and breezy and we're boat-bound for the rest of the day and evening. Esperance tomorrow? Maybe … we'll see what the weather looks like.