One Mile Jetty

An early start was in order as our plans for the day included a walk along the salt flats across Babbage Island to the mouth of the Gascoyne River to have a look at the Carnarvon One Mile Jetty. This wooden jetty was built in 1897 and was the first port in Australia where livestock was transported by sea and continued to provide a lifeline to Carnarvon until the main road was sealed in 1966.

We had a look at the map, and after breakfast at the local cafe we rowed the dinghy in circles to a little beach next to the walkway, and set off, following the railway tracks. It seemed a fair hike so we kitted up with drinks, lollies and hiking shoes. I had bought a brand new pair of expensive hiking boots in Kathmandu in Perth before we left and Margie donned her 'el cheapo' Rivers' joggers. We packed the camera gear and set off in the crisp morning air with clear blue skies.

The steel rails of the narrow gauge railway were rusty with neglect, the sleepers having been somnolent for so long with no load to bear and were falling apart. We pressed on down the track for about an hour until Margie declared that she was getting really painful blisters from her new shoes and decided that walking barefoot through this snake infested sand track was the lesser of the two evils. By contrast, my expensive hiking boots were an absolute pleasure to wear and as comfortable as a grandmothers hug!

Eventually we came a round the bend in the track to a cross roads that leads past a railway museum stacked with old and rusted carriages and tractors, past a miniature lighthouse and into a thoroughly modern cafe and kiosk looking strangely out of kilter with the rest of the detritus of history.

We climbed up the disused water tower, ignoring the health warnings to the aged and infirm to observe, from a height, the mouth of the mighty Gascoyne River and the accusatory finger of history pointing crookedly out to sea which was the One Mile Jetty that we had trekked so far to see.

Nobody seems to know if the jetty is actually one mile long or how much of an estimate that is. Fortunately, there is a small train that wobbles its way along the jetty to take the curious to the end and for the princely sum of $10 you can avoid counting the yards. The first train was known as the Kia Ora. (A Maori greeting that means 'be well or healthy' a bit like the Aussie G'day! Or if you prefer, a soft drink of the orange variety in the UK). The Kia Ora was a steam train, that had a distinctive coffee pot shaped funnel. The current iteration is a diesel facsimile, also with a coffee pot funnel, but sporting a slightly disturbing, leering face of Thomas of the Tank Engine fame.

We rocked, rolled and rode along in one of two small carriages to the end of the jetty. Well, not quite. It was a bit like 'coitus interuptus' as just at the very end, the jetty was blocked off with no access allowed, as some repairs were under way and have been for several years or maybe even decades. The train tracks at the end curve around in a loop to enable the train to turn around and head proudly back to the kiosk. Sadly, it seems that poor Thomas must run in reverse all the way back which, I'm sure, would not please the 'Fat Controller'! We dismounted from the train and explored the narrow crumbling jetty taking in the views of the Indian Ocean and the rolling waves at the mouth of the Gascoyne River.

 With a blast of the whistle, it was time for Thomas to reverse all the way back to the cafe kiosk for the inevitable cappuccino. After a quick wander around taking some snapshots, we started walking back to Carnarvon. Margie was still suffering with the blisters, so like a gentleman, I stuck out my thumb at the first passing car in the hope of sparing her more pain. The driver got about half a kilometer past us, did a quick you'ee and returned to offer us a lift back to town, declaring that she had decided to take pity on us as the cool of the morning was now the heat of the day.

We thanked her profusely and returned to Moonshadow for an afternoon siesta and to prepare for our 'big night out' at the Carnarvon Yacht Club. Mark and Cathy from Catcha Star had recommended this as a treat due to the quality of their Friday night Fish and Chips. After a restful afternoon we decided to put the outboard onto Toby (our tinny) as it was a fair way down the Fascine from where we were moored and we were fed up of going around in circles with our mismatched oars.

We arrived on the beach fronting the yacht club and set our little anchor amongst the rocks and enjoyed a wonderful hot shower at the clubhouse. We emerged, squeaky clean and met a lovely 'yachtie' couple from Sandringham Yacht Club, Kay and Garry Anderson of the yacht Esprit, who are touring in a caravan checking out the sailing opportunities in Western Australia.

Dinner was superb. The Asian style Shepherds Pie replacing the aforementioned Fish and Chips which were nowhere to be seen. We left the yacht club after exchanging blog and email addresses with Kay and Garry and returned to Moonshadow replete and ready for bed to prepare for a Sunday departure from Carnarvon.

Life is Good!

Fascine... ating

A restful night after yesterdays sleep deprivation. We woke to a beautiful cool morning still attached to the expensive pole that was our mooring for the night. The plan today was to explore Carnarvon and see if we could find some 'noodles' that we could use as fenders around the tinny to protect the hull from the occasional nudge as the winds changed.

Some wildlife from the pole mooring .

As the shore was close we decided to leave the outboard mounted on Moonshadow and use the oars to get to shore only a couple of hundred metres from said pricey pole. We learned that rowing a flat bottomed tinny with the oars designed for the inflatable dinghy was a bit trickier than we had imagined. The oars are just that much too short and we ended up rowing in circles like the proverbial drunken sailor. Eventually we made it to the little launching ramp and tied her securely, heading off in search of the promised cappuccino. There is a cafe just around the corner but alas it was closed so we headed north to investigate the possibilities in the metropolis.

Entrance to the refueling jetty in Carnarvon.

On the way we found a chandlery which was worth the visit as it was quite well stocked with very friendly staff and a beautiful red kelpie dog that had those really sad eyes that just reach out and say,
"Give me some love... I'm really cute."
Ok. We did.

He wouldn't let us go and we had to scratch his head for ages. Unfortunately, neither he nor the chandler could help us with noodles so we moved on with the advice to take the walk around the Fascine Channel, which leads past the Carnarvon Yacht Club and marina.

Eventually we found the Main Street in Carnarvon and even an open cafe offering the best cappucinos in town! We lashed out on breakfast and enjoyed the crisp morning air and reading yesterday's West Australian. We were soon joined by a man who introduced himself as a fellow 'yachtie' and had a chat about Carnarvon. The cafe proprietor came over and told us to be aware of our company as he was known as the barefoot cowboy and had a smooth line in banter. He did tell us that Macca from the yacht Top Cat was his best mate and was in town. Macca is a friend of ours from Fremantle Sailing Club and we asked the barefoot cowboy to say hi to Macca from us.

It was time to explore in the hunt for our noodles. Sports shop... no joy.
Target... Nada.
Woolworths... nilch.
Hmmm.
Toy shop... "Oh we just sold out."

I thought this would be easy but no noodles are to be had in Carnarvon. It is a noodle free zone apparently. Even the bike shop admitted to selling out a while ago and declaring that he would probably not stock them again as Woolies sells them cheaper than he can buy them. Believe it or not we found a noodle shop selling noodles, but unfortunately they were the edible Chinese variety.

Having had a look at the Fascine channel, we decided that it wasn't as scary as it looks on the navigation software and there are what is known here as 'courtesy buoys' available for free for 72 hours provided by the Department of Transport. With any luck, we could score a high tide and a free mooring. Consulting the trusty oracle (iPad Nav software) we were in luck as a high tide was due at 1445 hours, a good two hours away. Time enough to get back to Moonshadow and time a passage up the channel with a rising tide. Moonshadow has a draught of 1.8 metres and a high tide would give us a good margin to get in safely and secure one of five free mooring buoys. It seemed a better option than another $30 for a night on a pole!

Heading back we again passed the marina and we spied none other than Macca working on his boat, Top Cat. We stopped and had a chat, learning that he had moved up here permanently. As he was busy, we exchanged phone numbers and left him to sorting out his yacht.

Arriving back on Moonshadow, we prepared to leave and cast off the lines from the pole, heading down the track to the Teggs Channel so we could head around the corner to the Fascine. All was well, no wind and the passage was clearly marked with red and green pylons. What a doddle we thought!

Follow the markers and she'll be sweet, we thought...

Why are we not moving, we thought!

Oh shit! Stuck in the mud!

No problem, we thought, just reverse out and get back on track. Hmmm.

The mud had taken a shine to Moonshadow and wasn't going to let go, just like some kind of affectionate Red Kelpie with sad eyes...

Now when we were chatting to Macca, he had said,
"If you get stuck, give me a call and I'll come and pull you off, but you should be sweet with a high tide."
We decided to call and he said he would be there in half an hour so we sat and waited.
No other choice really. We secured the tinny as it was doing strange things sliding around the hull.

After about twenty minutes, Moonshadow started bumping up and down as the tide was still rising, and with one desperate last effort we were able to reverse out of the mud bank and steer to deeper water. Panic over. The rest of the ride up the Fascine was uneventful and we were able to follow the dredged channel all the way up to the buoy that we had selected on our morning walk. Margie pulled up the mooring lines and we were finally secured safely again. We had phoned Macca again, to thank him and cancel the rescue attempt.

Our view of Carnarvon from the Fascine mooring.

Another tinnie ride to the beach to celebrate with yet another cappucino was in order. These are getting addictive. After a bit of shopping for dinner we got back to Moonshadow and had a quiet night enjoying the peace and tranquility of this place.

Life is good!

Sad Farewells

With a tinge of sadness we decide to leave Monkey Mia and continue our journey north. Our next destination is Carnarvon, only a 12 hour sail in light winds. We need to plan for refueling and there is a Bailey's outlet in the fishing boat harbour. We had got ourselves a Bailey's Fuel Card before we left Fremantle which allows us to do cash free transactions. Neat.

We have had a lovely holiday in Monkey Mia and have neglected keeping the blog up to date. A few incidents are worth noting in hindsight though, not least of all, the separation of the three amigos. Time flies when you're having fun and both Divided Sky and Aqua Vitae reached the point of no return. They decided that in order to get home to Fremantle it was time for them to up anchor and head South.

We have enjoyed the company of Mike, Karen, Nick and Robyn immensely. It was so comforting sailing in company with these good friends as both Margie and I are relative novices at this. Sometimes we wonder if we would have left Fremantle when we did if it wasn't for the commitment that we had made to join them for the cruise north. Having done so, the experience of our compadres was invaluable and certainly gave us the courage to cast off on this endeavor. We were reassured that for the first part of our cruise at least, we wouldn't be alone.

At the ungodly hour of 3am, we woke to the insistent chiming of the alarm clock and got up to farewell Divided Sky and Aqua Vitae. We could see activity on board their yachts as they made preparations for departure. We lit up Moonshadow like some kind of Christmas Tree with deck, anchor, navigation and steaming lights as the deadline for raising their anchors approached. We heard Mike and Karen's anchor chain being hauled and their engine rumbling, and waited for Nick and Robyn's to fire up. And waited. And waited a bit more. It was getting cold out here.

The crackle of the VHF radio drew us back to the cockpit in time to hear Nick calling to Mike that he had engine trouble and couldn't get it to start. Not a cracker. Not a brass razoo. Nothing. We would have to delay departure while he went to investigate the fault in the engine room. Mike asked if he wanted him to come over and help find out what the problem was and Nick said,
"Wait a minute, I'll let you know."
We decided to make a coffee as that always seems to help in these situations and we sat and waited some more warming our hands in defiance of the cold morning, clasped around the steaming mugs of caffeine.

All was quiet for five or so minutes until suddenly Nick's engine roared into life. Hooray, Margie and I wondered what the problem had been, glad that it was fixed but a little sad that it meant our friends were actually going to be leaving. Just then, Nick came back on the VHF with a strange tone in his voice and declared that the problem was fixed and courageously admitting that this is what is known as pilot error. Instead of pushing the engine start button he had been pushing the engine stop button. Nick wrote on his blog later that in mitigation, it was dark, early and he wasn't wearing his glasses! Ah... the Trifecta!

Raising the revs and the anchors, both yachts executed a sail past Moonshadow still lit up like Times Square, and we very sadly waved a fond farewell to our good friends and companions as they headed north and slowly disappeared into the dark of the night. Margie and I looked at each other with the silent acknowledgment that we were finally on our own and from here on in we were flying solo.

The sense of loss was palpable for a few days but we had things to do and we tried to busy ourselves with the list of jobs that needed to be attended to on Moonshadow.

We had ordered some new sheets for the genoa from Yacht Grot in Fremantle as ours were really grotty. We were excited when the parcel arrived but soon discovered that they had sent us 15 metre sheets when we had ordered 20 metres, and they just wouldn't reach the winch. A quick call to Yacht Grot elicited an apology and the promise of express delivery of new sheets of the correct length.

We were a bit concerned that we had no transport to shore with the dinghy deflated and in need of repair and we were relying on Bill and Tineke to run us in and out. We had also heard that an inflatable dinghy was probably not the the best choice when we were exploring the Kimberleys. We thought that we would borrow the car and go to Denham on the off chance of finding a used tinny to replace Toby. We went to the local hardware store looking for a new outboard fuel tank as ours was leaking from around the fuel gauge. A new one was going to cost us over $140 so we thought we might try to repair the one we've got with a tube of Araldite or similar. We then went to the local garage come chandlery to see if he had anything cheaper. He couldn't help as he had none in stock but recommended we go and see 'Damian', just up the street. Apparently Damian deals with second hand marine bits. We also casually mentioned that we were looking for a second hand tinny. He showed us one that he had out the back, but he wanted $800 and seemed way overpriced and over our non-existant budget so we gave it a miss.

We decided to go and look for Damian, chasing the fuel tank. We found that he had several to choose from and one in excellent condition, clean and almost new, almost identical to the one we wanted to fix. When asked if he knew of any second hand tinny's, he led us around to the back of his yard and showed us a 10ft tinny in very good nick! He asked us to make an offer and we finally agreed on $250, including the fuel tank! A bargain!

We scooted back to the camp at Monkey Mia and Bill attached his boat trailer and back we went to pick it up. All went well except Bill's jockey wheel on the trailer suffered terminal damage on the way there. Fortunately, Damian was able to find Bill a replacement! What a Gem.

We cleaned out the tinny making sure it had no leaks and carted it off down to the beach where Bill towed us out to Moonshadow. Finally we were mobile again. What a relief. We mounted the outboard from Toby which fitted perfectly and proudly went for a scoot around. We soon learnt that a flat bottomed tinny is way more unstable than a RIB and would take some adjusting to get used to it.

The new (second-hand) tinny!

The following morning Bill (aka Mr. Fixit) arrived on Moonshadow to help repair the gash in Toby with the kit that had arrived from Westribs in Freo. Three coats of this special 2 part adhesive and the carefully laying on of the patch and the job was done. We couldn't use Toby for 72 hours and had to wait 48 hours for the glue to set before testing  with the pump. She is now holding pressure well with no leak. Yeeha!

The new sheets also arrived from YachtGrot and on a very calm day we unfurled the genoa and secured them with bowlines so we are, as they say, 'Ship shape and Bristol fashion', and ready to head off from Monkey Mia to Carnarvon on the next leg of our adventure.

Bill and Tineke were packing up their van and heading back to Perth as their holiday had come to an end.

It was time to go. We have really enjoyed our extended stay at Monkey Mia and at 3am on the 4th June we hoisted the anchor and bid farewell in the dark. A really gentle sail saw us arrive in Carnarvon at 2.30 and we made a bee line for the refueling jetty. Margie steered Moonshadow perfectly to nuzzle the jetty where we secured her and had time to completely fill the water and diesel tanks.

Enquiries at the Department of Transport office revealed that we could stay on the jetty overnight for the princely sum of $139 (cough, splutter) or we could tie ourselves to a pole stuck in the mud for $39! We settled for the pole, tied up, and settled in for a good nights sleep.

Life is good!

A Gash at the 'G' Spot!

We were eager to explore this lonely and isolated place so we all decided to take our dinghys to the beach about a nautical mile away to the south. Landing safely and securing with anchors in the sand we wandered east along the beach, exploring the mangroves that grow along the shore.

Guichenault Point (aka The 'G' Spot)

Heading to shore.

Karen, as ever, was keeping a careful eye open for wildlife in the water and soon spotted some shovelnose rays that we had to inspect. The water was clear and we managed to get a decent photo of one ray that was soaking up the 'rays' (sorry) in the shallows.

Karen's shovel nosed ray basking.

About a mile up the beach we rounded a bend only to discover a 4 wheel drive Toyota that had been abandoned. There was a sticker on the windshield signed by Officer King of the Shark Bay Police Station that loudly declared, "Vehicle Has Been Reported."

Somebody had come along and added some graffiti to the sticker with some insulting words about 'Perth Scum'. We were buzzed by a 4WD racing down the track at breakneck speed and we decided to turn around and head back to the dinghys and the comfort of the boats. Mike wore his apron and manned the BBQ and we all enjoyed a lunch in isolated splendour!

The following day the three amigos decided to dinghy west into the mangrove beaches to explore the northern tip of Guichenault Point. Robyn had her new 'you beaut' kayak that she was eager to paddle about in.

We all got to shore and went walking checking out the beach and the wildlife so abundant in the area. Margie and I decided to 'take a hike' to explore the tip of Guichenault Point where it changes from mangrove swamps to a rocky outcrop. We rowed the inflatable dinghy to shore and anchored on the beach. It was a long walk but we managed to take some nice snaps of the place.

Mike, Karen, Nick and Robyn had made their way back to the boats by the time we returned to our dinghy. Unfortunately the tide had gone out and forced us to drag it about 50 metres down the beach. Just as we got her into the water an old dead mangrove root sliced a 4 inch gash in the port pontoon which left us all a little deflated!

Margie was pretty upset until reassured that we could still float and get back to Moonshadow without having to swim! Once there, we hoisted the dinghy on deck and examined the damage. Hmmm. Not good. Not to worry, we thought, we have a dinghy repair kit. Now where did we stow it? After a short fossick, we found the patches and the tube of glue.

Simple. tomorrow morning we can clean the wound, stitch her up and get back in the water.

Bright and early we sanded the patch to give a good key for the adhesive, put on the glue, and after waiting the recommended time, carefully laid the patch over the gash. Job done!
"Why are the edges of the patch curling up?", asked Margie.
Closer inspection revealed that the glue was just peeling off with a zero stickability factor. Hmmm. Perhaps this won't be as easy as we imagined.

With the dinghy out of service, we had to rely on the other two amigos for a taxi service until we could lay our hands on some more glue. We called WestRibs in Fremantle for a bit of advice as they had recently repaired a slow leak in her before we left Fremantle. They told us that we need a special kit for Hypalon, the dinghy fabric and as we were heading back to Monkey Mia today, we ordered a kit to be sent to Bill & Tineke. We were still waiting for the Genoa sheets that we had ordered from Yacht Grot.

At 10am the boats were ready and we all upped anchor and had a leisurely sail back to Monkey Mia. Aqua Vitae unfortunately had an alternator and a poo pump problem on the way back, but we all arrived safely in time for dinner at Bill & Tineke's campsite. Another splendid evening with good company, fine food and great conversation.

On the way back to the boats, we got to the beach, where the tide had gone out again and meant the dinghy's needed carrying down to the water. With six of us lifting Nick and Robyn's dinghy we marched like coffin bearers towards the water. All of a sudden, the dinghy jumped out of our grasp. Someone had forgotten to untie the rope from the post on the beach, and we all fell about laughing. I guess you had to be there!

We cadged a ride and got back to Moonshadow for a good nights sleep.

Life is good!