The 'G' Spot

25° 37.497S
113° 34.024E

Monday May 12 2014

A leisurely sail from Monkey Mia to a bay 40 nautical miles north. The chart shows a protected inlet called Guichinault Point that seems quite attractive, but not being sure of the pronunciation, it becomes re-christened as the 'G' spot. We are still waiting for the new genoa sheets to arrive by courier from Yacht Grot in Fremantle, but while we wait, we can take advantage of the weather to explore a bit of Shark Bay.

Guichinault Point, Shark Bay, Western Australia

For a change Moonshadow was on point duty with Divided Sky and Aqua Vitae following. At 10am we lifted the anchor (Well, pushed the button on the capstan) and we all got a clean getaway. It took about 5 hours running with the genoa to port. Sea a bit rolly in places and the wind touching 20 knots at times. Busy the whole way, so much to do that time flies. Plenty of opportunity though, to reflect on how really lucky we are to have reached this particular milestone. The process towards this point was a myriad of steps, some tiny and some huge, the last one being the harbour wall behind Moonshadow in Fremantle, constantly being there, reminding us of what became, for us, the final hurdle.

And now it is done.
Ripper!

Margie continues to amaze me with her love, courage and constant support. The learning curve is pretty steep but Margie is soaking it all up and becoming addicted to 'the cruising life'. I couldn't have done this without her, and I am very, very proud of her. 'Nuff said!

The colours here are raw and earthy, different to Fremantle, almost polarised with an intensity of hue. I have to keep the Canon in easy reach and I'm just loving doing the landscapes with the 200mm lens. I am just hankering for something a bit longer, especially for the wildlife! We are surrounded by dolphins, dugongs, pelicans and the inevitable seagulls of course.

We had to swing around to the west to clear sand banks a fair way north of the point, that poke out and try to trip the unwary into a short cut. Not for us; we took the long way round.

We are anchored at Guichinault Point just around the bend from Hopeless Reach on the Francoise Peron Peninsular and sandwiched between Herald Bight and Herald Bluff. I find that somewhat amusing given that I worked for the Herald in Fremantle!

The 'Western Australian Cruising Guide' published by the Fremantle Sailing Club is like the cruiser's bible. You would like to think that its contents are gospel. Alas, like the good book, the WACG will sometimes mislead you. Unfortunately, we only have the 'Second Edition' and we are eagerly awaiting the publication of edition number four. C'mon Jim! We can't wait to see the new one.

Anyway, back to the story. Margie reads out the passage about where to find a safe and secure anchor in the WACG, and I quote:

"Anchor over weed, just outside two large yellow buoys".

Naturally my interest was piqued to say the least so grasping the binoculars firmly in hand, with Margie at the helm,  we scanned the horizon in search of the weed and the buoys. They proved to be elusive. Ummm. Absent. The buoys are no more. And as for the weed... well...  nah! Pipe dream.

So Margie chooses the best place to anchor and there goes the chain again as we cut back and a get the satisfying bite as the CQR does its job. 30 metres of chain should be good in 2.5m. Excellent! Reverse gear to tuck her in and all is calm as we cut the 100HP diesel. And silence. Aqua Vitae and Divided Sky are not quite as lucky and have to hunt around for a decent bit of holding. Is that 'boat language' I can hear reverberating across the swell? Surely not.

Aqua Vitae gets set and Karen and Mike arrive on Moonshadow for the usual celebrations of a safe arrival. Crack open the Bailey's and get set in the cockpit to await the arrival of Nick and Robyn. Wine, cheese olives, champagne... Karen brings over this bag of chilli chips. Now I'm not saying they're spicy but I think they are as hot on the way in as well as on the.... you know what I mean. Karen seems to be enjoying them.
"Does it get any better than this?", we ask ourselves.
Karen then makes an unusual contribution to the conversation but also has the fortitude to own up to it, asking the question, "Where is Mocha when you need him?". We luv ya Kazza, but this is an enclosed cockpit!!

Meanwhile  Divided Sky seems to be doing a few laps of honour as if they had won the Cock of the Rock...
"Nah! Don't like it here, darling, we're dragging."
"Lets try over there, honey pie."
"Okay, sweetie, anything you say".
"Well done. That looks perfect. You're so clever."

Or words to that effect.

Eventually we all decide to go to Divided Sky as Nick and Robyn don't trust the weed and the missing yellow buoys. The sea has settled a little in the bay but still a kick in the wind so we all decide to head back home having depleted the supplies of champagne, cheese and biscuits again and to where we can be close to our anchor drag alarms!

Damn, thats the last of the Bailey's.

But I digress.

Back to the point. That's Guichenault Point.

Antoine Guichenot or Guichenault (1783–1867) was "gardener's boy" on the 1801―1804 French scientific voyage to Australia under Nicolas Baudin, and the 1817 voyage under Louis de Freycinet. Very little is known about him, but the records of Baudin's voyage, together with annotations on surviving plant specimens collected by him, suggest that he was poorly educated, with atrocious spelling and little knowledge of botany, yet worked extremely hard, collecting more plant specimens than the officially appointed botanist, Jean Baptiste Leschenault de la Tour, and, despite his poor literacy, labelling them with much more useful annotations. There were five gardeners altogether on the Baudin voyage, the others being Antoine Sautier, François Cagnet and Merlot, all under the supervision of Head Gardener Anselme Riedlé.

His contributions to Australian botany are commemorated in the name of the Australian plant genus Guichenotia. Guichenault Point, a promontory on Peron Peninsula in Shark Bay, was named after him. Guichenot is the more commonly used spelling of his name, and widely adopted by botanists; but Guichenault is used in François Péron's journal of the Baudin expedition, and hence for the place named after him.

Courtesy Wikepedia.

Getting close to exploring the 'G' spot. 

Having finally found the 'G Spot', we are looking forward to exploring it in greater depth in the next installment of the blog. Stay tuned for some hair raising adventures!

Denham Re-visited

Bill and Tineke were kind enough to lend us their Pajero for the day while they went fishing in 'Y-Knot'. We re-organised the seating so that the six of us could find a place and with Margie behind the wheel we piled in and made a getaway to Denham. It took us all day to sail from Denham to Monkey Mia but the trip in the car was only about 20 minutes.

Arriving back at Denham, we decided to have lunch at the hotel. On the billboard outside there is a sign advising that this is Australia's 'Westernmost Hotel'. It was a good lunch too! Robyn is a vegan and often has trouble finding appropriate fare, but at least the hotel staff tried to accommodate her with a salad, sadly the chips were 'beer battered' and had to be removed from the order as they contravened the vegan requirements.

After the lunch we all piled into the car again and Margie drove us out to have a look at Eagle Bluff, an elevated cliff overlooking crystal clear water where, on a good day, you can see sharks coming in to feed. Today was not a good day! Nick swore that he saw one baby shark but I missed it. Luckily I had brought the camera and wandered around snapping some views of the landscape.

We then headed north again to have a look at the Oceanarium cafe and on the way stopped for the obligatory group grope at this significant landmark. When I saw the sign and suggested Margie stop for the photo, all I could hear was a group groan. I think my idea of taking these shots is wearing a bit thin, but we all piled out of the car, balanced the camera precariously on the bonnet of the car and set the self timer once again.

Onto the Oceanarium Cafe for yet another caffeine infusion and then back to Denham for last minute supplies at the IGA. Again, no bread, but at least the bakery was open today and we managed to get a loaf or two.

Again we all piled into the Pajero and made our way back to Monkey Mia for yet more coffee at Tineke and Bills camp.

As we were going to be in Monkey Mia for a few more days, I took the opportunity to place an order or new genoa sheets with Yacht Grot in Fremantle to be delivered here as soon as possible. The old sheets are in a sorry state and definitely need replacing before we head out to Carnarvon. Lets hope they arrive soon.

"Congratulations. You made it!"

Tuesday Morning, 3am.

We woke and started the preparations for a 4pm departure, glad to see the back of Denham. It had been an uncomfortable stay. It was pitch black and we followed the channel out into Shark Bay again heading north with the promise of better weather. We were motoring as the wind had died but we were greeted with an awesome sunrise over the starboard side.

Sunrise just after leaving Denham.

The absence of swell made a pleasant change and we headed up the Peron Peninsular admiring the sights of this amazing landscape and forcing me to pull out the Canon to record the colours and textures in all their glory.

Aqua Vitae and Divided Sky heading north to Cape Peron.

A late breeze allowed us to deploy the trusty genoa and on reaching Point Peron, we rounded the cape and started south again on a course to Monkey Mia. We relied on the iron genoa for this part of the trip as it was directly into the wind. Monkey Mia loomed over the horizon and we were really looking forward to seeing Margie's sister Tineke and brother-in-law Bill who are staying in their caravan at MM. 

Rounding the top of the Peron Peninsular.

The west side of the Peron Peninsular.

After rounding the final marker into the anchoring area we were approached by this official looking speedboat with two officious looking gentlemen and we thought, "Oh No. We are in the wrong place." No need to worry though as the speedboat was Bill and Terry in 'Y-Knot', on its way out to welcome us to Monkey Mia.

The welcoming party arrives to greet Moonshadow!

Tineke, Bill and Terry tied up alongside Moonshadow and came aboard for a celebration. Tineke made the comment to us, "Congratulations. You made it." I'm not sure if she meant we had made it to Monkey Mia as promised, but Margie and I chose the wider context as having achieved our dream of adopting the 'cruising lifestyle', after all these years of planning and preparation. Yep. We made it!

Nick watching his dinghy go!

Nick, Robyn, Mike and Karen joined us for the now obligatory liquid celebrations pertaining to a safe arrival. Tineke and Bill had invited all of us to dinner so it was time to settle the boats down and head to the caravan for a slap up meal. I'm not sure if Nick had been celebrating our arrival a little too much, as to his great embarrassment, he just somehow let go of the painter to his dinghy and it went floating off in the breeze.

The errant dinghy!

Margie to the rescue!

And safely re-united. :-)

He was torn between jumping in to chase the dinghy and appealing to us to go chase it with ours. He chose the appeal to Margie, who, like the superwoman she is, leapt into the dinghy in a single bound, started the outboard and headed off in pursuit. Returning like some conquering gladiator of the seas towing the escapee behind her. Nick could hardly hide his embarrassment realising at once the value of this incident as blog fodder and also the fact that the camera was in hand for the whole story. Maybe I shouldn't include the story in the blog but... nah!

Dinner with the family and friends was a wonderful occasion, full of stories and laughter. The meal was superb with contributions from all directions. Maureen's puddings capped off a superb night, and then time to head back to the beach and the dinghys and wending our weary way, trying to avoid all the dolphins on our way back to the boats and to falling into bed.

Aqua Adrift!

Mind Your Head!

Denham is your typical sleepy fishing village with a mixture of the old beach shacks and some new, somewhat out of place McMansions. The main street has the usual touristy stuff but nothing that looks permanent. Sunday saw us brave the conditions and take the dinghys into the wonky wooden jetty chasing a cappuccino. Finding a local cafe, open on a Sunday we ventured inside to be greeted by the waitress, an elderly but bustling woman, who insisted on announcing exactly what she was doing to all and sundry. She told us to wait! Eventually we got to place an order and relaxed at the table enduring the curious glances of the locals as we were all clad in our colourful wet weather gear.

The Obligatory Group Grope outside the Discovery Centre at Denham.

The cappuccino and cake were remarkably good and fortified us enough to explore the local IGA and service station to replace essential supplies. Alas, no bread, no real milk at the IGA but the servo was remarkably well stocked with boating gear and took at least an hour to explore the various rooms full of goodies. It was a joy to behold a brand new boat hook! In Denham of all places! Margie grabbed it and wouldn't let it go.

After all this shopping we decided to indulge ourselves in another coffee and headed back to the cafe only to find it was closed. (2pm). While Nick, Robyn and Margie went to explore and find another source of caffeine, I waited standing guard over the dinghy and our shopping. Karen and Mike loaded up their goodies and headed back to Aqua Vitae only to find that she was not there. I'm sure there was some panic in the overloaded dinghy as they started to chase the errant craft, trying to reach her before she foundered on the reef. She had slipped her anchor and gone walkabout. The good news is that Karen and Mike were able to board her and motor back to the anchor site. Panic over!

Mike and Karen head back to Aqua Vitae blissfully unaware of the impending panic!

The sea bed at Denham comprises ribbon weed and sand. The weed makes anchoring difficult; it seems that the anchor just picks up great clods of the weed and very little holding. After we got back to Moonshadow, we also were startled by the insistent anchor alarm and a quick glance at the chartplotter confirmed we too were dragging in the rolly and windy conditions. Moonshadow went side on to the anchor as it was rolling across the weeds. It was dark by now and finding a clear patch to drop the pick in the blackness was difficult. We had about eight attempts before we got a hold, each time we raised the anchor we had to clear a huge clump of weed from the pick. We chose to sleep in the cockpit just to be sure that we were ready for any more alarms. Fortunately, we made it through an uncomfortable night without dragging again.

Monday was a miserable continuation of the weather and rough conditions anchored about a mile offshore Denham and so it was decided that we would head for Monkey Mia early Tuesday morning.

Making a Steep Point

Arrived at Steep Point about 8.30 after a sail of about 100 nautical miles. It was a relief to know that just around the corner lay the entrance to Shark Bay and some respite from the drunken, angry waves of the Indian Ocean. 

Getting close to the shore again was spectacular. The waves were battering the Zuytdorp Cliffs with an unusual ferocity; stark white breakers against the dark foreboding cliffs. In places, where the relentless pounding had carved caves at the cliff base, the waves would explode with such ferocity that they would shoot out of the caves as a cloud of water vapour like a regurgitation from an angry monster.

Despite the name, Shark Bay was the refuge that we were seeking and on turning in to follow the south side of the channel the roller coaster finally became a haven of calm seas and champagne sailing. Just beyond the entrance, on the south side is the appropriately named Shelter Bay and I can understand why it carries that moniker.

Following the lead provided by Divided Sky and Aqua Vitae we turned north to follow the markers. I think Nick is a racer at heart as he always seems to be in front! Maybe it's just that his Catalina is a fast boat or maybe he just likes to be followed by a 'Moonshadow'. (Sorry about that!)

Just south of Tumbledown Point we headed north east towards a narrow passage through the sand flats that would save us valuable time to get to Denham in daylight. The chart showed a navigable depth of 2.1m, which is not a lot of wriggle room for a yacht with a draft of 1.8m. We found the passage just north of Cape Bellefin to be well marked and we all made it through unscathed. Another channel on the sand flat named Heirisson was also well marked and we finally emerged into the Denham Channel, a wide expanse of clear water, that gave us an easterly bearing for the town of Denham, ten nautical miles distant. 

The calm water enabled me to indulge in some photography and I even bolted the GoPro to the bowsprit for some shots the back end of Aqua Vitae. The GoPro has very wide field of view but I managed to persuade Margie to get in closer than her comfort zone allowed to get some spectacular footage of Mike and Karen's beautiful yacht.

As we approached Denham, the 'Three Amigos' sailed side by side into the anchorage area. It would have been an imposing sight from shore and we were welcomed by a charming lady manning the Denham ACRM radio station (ACRM is a club that monitors sea safety. Bless 'em) who told us that she had been watching us negotiate the way in and that we were faced with 'sand over ribbon weed' in the anchoring area. I thought, at the time, that this information was given as a warning and I should have trusted my instincts. The problem was that there were no moorings accessible for our draft so we all prepared the picks as best we could. 

Margie at the helm chose a place for Moonshadow and we brought our girl to a halt. The sound of the chain running through the capstan was music to our ears and as we drifted backwards with the wind, the reassuring bite of the anchor on the rollers gave an immediate sense of peace. Letting out 30 metres of chain in 3.6 metres of water seemed a bit excessive, but as a famous sailor once said, 'chain in the locker does no good at all!"

A passage like this one leaves the boat in a bit of a mess, and of course it takes considerable time to get things ship shape again. Everything is encrusted with salt above decks. Everything below has to be reorganised and stowed properly. We felt an urgent need for a shower as we were two salt encrusted sailors as well. That done, it was time for a self congratulating, celebration drink on Aqua Vitae before the sun was over the yard arm! 

Hoisting the dinghy over the gunwhales and mounting the outboard on Moonshadow is no easy task but with an envious eye on the davits of the Catalinas, otherwise known as the 'dinghy danglers' we managed to join the others for a barbecue on Aqua Vitae, enjoying a wonderful steak and salad, cooked by Karen and Mike, and our first real meal in 36 hours. 

We all compared notes of our adventurous crossing from the Abrolhos like some kind of 'post mortem' trying to describe the conditions we all faced and concluding that this was definitely 'not in the brochure!' As darkness fell, Nick realised that Divided Sky was not adorned with an anchor light and had to make a quick trip to turn it on. 

By this time we were all dog tired from lack of sleep and thought it best to return to the sanctuary of the cabin for a well earned rest.

Welcome to Denham.

Rock and Roll

Today we left the rolling Turtle Bay, East Walabi Island in the Abrolhos. Destination Shark Bay. The forecast was good which was pleasing. Little did we know!

We got up about 6am to start the preparations for a 36 hour sail. We had spent a turbulent night rolling about with the wind singing (or should that be screaming?) in the rigging. Fortunatley we were on a mooring and I had rigged two mooring lines to it as I'm a bit of a 'belt and braces' kinda guy. Just as well really as one of the ropes had been taking most of the strain of the weight and had frayed almost to breaking point. Yet another item to add to the shopping list for the chandlery!

As if in unison and without communication, all three yachts shed their restricting mooring ropes and turned to face the north. Following the lead lines out of Turtle Bay we unfurled the genoa to take advantage of the tail winds off the starboard quarter. No complicated wing on wing... just the genoa for simplicity. The forecast was for 20-25 knot SW winds, moderating to the east and easing to 15 knots. A sailors best wishes includes the simple phrase about 'a following breeze' and this is what we saw on the charts. They all agreed. The internet had spoken. BoM, Seabreeze and GRIB were definitive. We were good to go!

As with all adventures, it was an easy start, still faced with the rolling swell, but calmed somewhat with the drive in the foresail. Divided Sky, as usual, took the early lead and headed out on the rhumb line programmed into the chart plotter. We had examined the route and plotted a course. Waypoints had been carefully added. Times and distances and average speeds calculated, to give us a daylight arrival at Steep Point.

The swell, well, swelled. The seas became confused with its argument with the wind. It became a bit like a lovers spat, and Moonshadow started to dance, but not in a nice way.

Margie ventured downstairs to try and fix the errant, inevitable items that seem to have a will of their own and also took to dancing across the cabin floor. There goes the breadboard from under the stove! A cupboard door flies open and spills its contents, breaking a coffee mug. A glass comes loose so now there is broken glass rolling from one side of the floor to the other and Margie with bare feet. She calls for help, but I am tethered to my harness on deck just trying to control the snapping sails. Margie falls with a painful bang on her back and for a moment fears that she has done some real damage to herself. Struggling to overcome the pain, she continues to deal with the current emergency of the broken glass.

Gravity seems to have a mind of its own on board a ship. It sometimes works as expected but sometimes not. If you ever try to pour boiling water into a cup, only to find that the flow goes horizontal rather vertical, you will know what I mean. Losing your sense of balance is also a symptom of gravity not obeying the rules. Just when you think you have the hang of this 'one hand for the boat; one hand for you', you find yourself in need of a third hand for anything that needs to be achieved.

We know that these conditions are going to moderate any time soon. Real soon. Please.

It was not to be. The confused seas stayed with us and the wind became angrier, rising to 30 - 35 knots whipping up whitecaps on the rolling swell. Our gunwales took a dip on the port side and just as quickly took a dip to starboard. Green water lashed the clears with enough force to squirt through the zips. The sounds around us were a deafening cacophony of wild weather and complaining timber. A disturbing creaking from the cabin floor with every roll made us at least wonder about the punishment we were inflicting on Moonshadow. All that noisy stuff that was rolling about inside locked cabinets would have to fend for itself. There are lessons to be learned here.

Darkness encased us. The night was black, the crescent moon having sunk below the horizon as if chasing the dusk.

It was reassuring to have VHF radio contact with our travelling companions each with an eye firmly on the others welfare and one on the distant, if intermittent, comforting glimpse of their navigation lights. The friendship of shared adventure has been bonding to say the least and both Margie and I are truly grateful for the opportunity to travel with and enjoy the company and wisdom of Robyn, Nick, Karen and Mike.
 
Margie and I had decided on a 3 hour watch system, but we remained in the cockpit, just to be available, just in case. We were wearing our harnesses and lashed to the jack lines, but unable to sleep or to find a position that gave any comfort. Unable to cook a meal we survived by raiding the stash of lollies and biscuits. During my watch I had also taken a fall and suffered an impact with the binnacle. The binnacle won. Equal and opposite? I don't think so.

At the end of my watch Margie had braved a trip below and hauled out and hoisted the lee cloths on the sea berth and suggested I go below for a 'real' rest. I managed at best, a fitful doze, but the noise below was disturbing as if in the centre of some mad bullring.

We made it through the night, worried that we were going too fast. We reduced sail, but somehow the speed increased. We had been averaging 6.5 knots and our peak was damn near 8 knots. We reduced sail some more. With only a whisker of the genoa on the self-furler exposed to the elements we were able to slow our progress to a manageable 4 knots. The last thing we wanted was to be anywhere near the Zuitdorp Cliffs in the dark, so we stayed well out to sea.

Margie bravely took the graveyard watch and was able to witness the dawn break and the sun rise. A welcome sight after the deep black of the night.

Aqua Vitae and Moonshadow were fairly close together during the night but Divided Sky had taken a course closer to shore. Seeing the cliffs for the first time was a wonderful sight and we were still on course. Not long now and we will have to turn inland and set our sights on the notorious Steep Point.