Airlie to Hamilton Island
In my last travel post I mentioned organising transport to Hamilton via Facebook. Paul was a great sport about it. Clearly a very experienced sailor, patient instructor and decent person all round. He had once been quite wealthy, but had been humbled by financial devastation about 9 years ago. A combination of over-ambition and challenging planning authorities cost him his life savings. He turned his focus back to the ocean and a simpler life, now living aboard his boat, sharing his passions and taking charters when he can. If you’re interested in sailing or just open to exploring the Whitsundays with a smaller operator I recommend seeking him out. His vessel is SV Domino.
The sail across to Hammo, as the locals call it, was quite the thrill with wind mostly holding at 20-25 knots but switching about as we passed the islands. Rapid and swirling currents from the funneled tide added to the exhilaration. We took the scenic route through a narrow pass, tacking several times in close succession to keep us off the rocks. Switching roles over the 5 hour passage we arrived into the harbor shortly after dark with a dwindling breeze, the sails still filled until we passed the first lead markers.
Meeting the Crew
After my first ever night sleeping on a boat I left Paul and Domino and went to find The Sydney Sundancer. I made the potentially embarrassing mistake of assuming the first 60ft ketch on the correct Marina was the vessel I was seeking and after clambering aboard was surprised to find the hatches locked. A quick check of the name on the hull and I sheepishly returned to the dock, glad to be witnessed by only a handful of sailors from a different vessel. Just a few paces further and I ran into Captain John, on his way ashore for groceries. He offered directions and a minute later I was aboard the correct vessel and meeting the crew.
Ray, in his sixties, had completed this journey before as well as 30,000 nautical miles on the east coast and crossing to Indonesia and the Philippines. Having taken over his parent’s Sydney restaurant when they retired, he had built a substantial enterprise of 5 restaurants and a catering service. Now semi-retired he was living on a rural property in Queensland with a handful of holiday cabins. He was with us for just the first week, with a work appointment setting his latest disembarkation date. His relaxed attitude to sail trim, grown from ocean cruising, offered a welcome contrast to the zealous fiddling ubiquitous in sail racing, where my experience had thus far been.
Patrick, in his early thirties, has never sailed before and only been on boats a few times. He has plenty of world experience however, growing up in Chili before moving to Melbourne after high school. Quite the explorer, he has traveled widely and tried his hand at a variety of things, with sailing being a recent interest. A number of his friends are passionate activists and other interests include tissue culture and insect proteins. He’s currently considering a career change away from jewelry, to more people and empathy focus. His plans for a four week yoga course in India unfolded through our time together. India being a far cheaper place to study than Australia or Vietnam, his second choice.
Jess, in her mid twenties hails from the UK. She studied outdoor adventure at college before deciding an instructional role would not suit her and instead worked in hospitality. Exploitative employers gave her a rude reality check on the difference between friends and employees, refusing her time off even after she had covered their duties for several months. Reflecting on that brought her to travel. She has been in Australia now for 1.5 years, traveling for a month before settling in Whitsundays as guide on sailing catamarans under a working holiday visa. This path gives her a maximum of 3 years. This is a very people focused job, with her at the beck and call of the captain and guests 24×5. She credits the time outside and in nature with preserving her sanity. She is now on her way to Sydney to do her yacht master course. She is spending every spare moment studying the course notes and getting plenty of opportunities to put her learnings into practice. She plans to start the course knowing all the content, clearly passionate about the path she’s on.
Awakening the Beast
Our first few hours were spent clearing the deck of its Whitsunday charter accouterments and gathering final supplies. By mid afternoon we cast off the mooring lines and chugged out of the marina. The rumble of the 1959 diesel monster in the engine room became a near constant presence that took me some time to make peace with.
When we reached open water we were taken through the safety drills. Among other things this included rescuing a life-buoy, emulating a man-over-board situation. The time it took to retrieve the very visible, very buoyant object was an harsh reminder of my urgent need to improve my confidence in water or avoid exposure to such a possibility.
Further instructions were given on checking the engine, refilling the fuel header tank and inspecting the bilge for oil or excess water. The reality of this being a primarily fossil-fueled trip roaring into my conscience every hour as the engine room door was opened to complete these tasks.
It became my mission to encourage and facilitate sailing whenever the opportunity arose to save as much fuel as possible and quiet the roaring beast.
With wind directly ahead of us on day one, this wasn’t an option, so we motored to our first destination, setting anchor off Goldsmith Island. We lifting the tender out of the water, a finicky process involving multiple winches, straps, tackle and three thongs. With our day’s work done, the sun slunk below the remaining sliver of mainland, spilling a golden band across the horizon.
After a shared dinner in the saloon, John regaled the enrapt crew with stories of previous voyages and then from further afield as the wine disappeared.