Leaving Mandurah - Heading North

 

Leaving a place that's been pleasant and safe and leaving behind the generous, hospitable people who have made our stay so memorable is always bittersweet, but moving on is what we do. After a blustery, rainy, grey two days and nights, the weather dawned sunny and clear. David topped the water tanks while I disconnected the electric. We idled the engine for awhile to make sure there were no surprises. The transmission sounded a bit stiff, but loosened up after a forward-reverse trial. We were off the dock by 0815. Not too early, but early enough to be respectable.

The short 35nm hop north up the coast to Fremantle … Freo, the locals call it … was a typical first passage after a long sojourn on land. We forgot little things. The autopilot switch got bumped and we thought the drive had a problem till we figured out what had happened. What a relief! The southwest swell had us a bit queasy for the first hour or so, but a cup of tea and a few miles under the keel had us feeling right again. The forecast called for S/SW winds at 15 kts and sun. We saw light winds from the north and on-again/off-again showers. No matter … we were in good spirits and back to sea.

This coast is rife with reefs and we were vigilant on watch. It's always good to spot a reef, the waves breaking and crashing high in the air, at a good distance. We threaded our way through the North Channel at the top of Garden Island and then made our way to the Fremantle Sailing Club. This friendly club offers 3-free nights of berthage to visiting cruisers and we were keen to take them up on their offer. Sam, on behalf of the harbourmaster, met us in the club tender and led us to the wooden Collector Jetty for tie-up.

We'll be here only long enough to catch another short weather window to make our way further north. Freo is the main port for Perth and has an interesting history. We're hoping to linger long enough to do some exploring.

Up the Mast - A Rigging Inspection

In preparation for our departure, David climbed up the mast to check out the rigging. It's second-nature to him now to climb 60+' (18m) straight up in the air on a rocking boat. For those of us with a fear of heights (like me, for instance), we prefer to stay below and take up the slack on the line as David hauls himself upwards in his bosun's chair with the help of his trusty ascenders.  

Not only was he checking the integrity of the rigging and the mast fittings, he was also checking that the anchor, running, steaming and spreader lights were operational, cleaning the mainsail track and repairing a courtesy flag halyard pulley that was damaged.

Additionally, he was doing a pre-inspection in anticipation of a professional rigger from Fremantle traveling down to Mandurah to do a formal rig inspection – a requirement by our insurance company prior to our heading offshore. This is a usual, and probably reasonable, request by the insurance company, but it's always a hassle and an added cost to the already high insurance premiums we pay. C'est la vie.

Edgar, the rigger, whom we thought would appear sometime in the morning, showed up around 3pm and got right to work. First, he checked each chainplate on deck and then took a close look at each shroud and stay and the associated turnbuckle and shackle that attaches it to the deck. If something goes wrong at sea, this is a vulnerable point and, if weak, could cause a sailboat to lose all its rigging and mast. Not a pleasant thought.

After checking the mast fittings, he proceeded to check out the boom and all of its fittings in turn then took a look at the traveler. He rigged himself up and ascended the mast in the same fashion that David does … with ascenders. Up he scampered to the top of the mast, stopping to check things along the way … the mast itself, the spreaders, the shroud and stay fixtures, hardware and attachments.

He came below to check the base of the mast below the floorboards. His inspection was efficient and comprehensive and Nine of Cups (and her captain) got all A's! She's ready to tackle the Indian.

Settling Aboard Nine of Cups

We slept fitfully, but felt delightfully at home when we awoke to the sound of gulls crying and the high- pitched cheep of the local welcome swallows as they darted from boat to boat. The day was thick with fog as we made our morning foray up the dock to the clubhouse toilets. Yes, this is one of the inconveniences of living aboard when you're in a marina. We don't want to fill up the holding tank so we take our business ashore.  

We wanted to finish up unpacking and stowing as quickly as possible, so we started early. As always, what comes aboard the boat must be counter-balanced with what goes off. We managed to get all the duffels and luggage unpacked and stowed before Noon. We made four trips to the dumpster with discards. Still, 200 lbs (92kg) on and probably only only 100 lbs (46kg) off is not quite enough. The waterline is suffering a bit. It's hard to part with stuff sometimes. Right now we still need some winter fleeces and warm clothes. Soon, we'll be in swimsuits and shorts. Gotta be prepared for everything … and it all takes up space.

The day warmed up and the weather was lovely and calm. We decided to hank on the sails and get them ready for departure. David purchased new jib sheets and they're all attached and ready to go now. We're attempting to be in fast mode, but with the jetlag, we're having a few problems. Naps during the day are not conducive to getting things done quickly. Hopefully, we'll be departing some time at the end of next week if a weather window opens up for heading north up the coast. Still several to-do's on the list, but we'll work hard to tick them off, so we can make tracks as soon as possible.