Log Entry 12th October 2008

Today’s voyage was deliberately planned to be “shortish”. Each of the girl’s having recently been given a fishing rod and reel, we thought it would be fun spend some time fishing. However as all our previous attempts using handlines had not been successful, I wasn’t overly confident this time would be any different.

 Leaving the harbour around 11:00am under an overcast sky and a 10-15 knot north-easterly, we tacked in a northerly direction toward St Helena. I intended to anchor in the bay on the western side of the island, which would shelter us from the prevailing weather while we fished. Beating into the wind on a starboard tack, we passed the island jetty when I misjudged our lateral drift and under full sail we glanced off the bow of a large trawler anchored just off our port side. The sound of our fibreglass hull striking steel was horribly loud; enough to literally wake the dead. I have no idea where the crew of the trawler were, no one came on deck to investigate, it was quieter than the Mary Celeste. I couldn’t see any damage to trawler hull, naturally enough, not even a scratch, and I was too disgusted with myself to see if we had scratched Lara.

At least the fishing was successful; Johanna and I each caught a small whiting, whilst Helena also caught a small whiting (probably the same one) and three small bream. All of the fish were tiddlers and after being given pet names by the girls and amidst frequent pleadings to take them home as pets, we released them hopefully to grow into pan-size “big-uns”. 

Try as I might I couldn’t entice a fish onto Freya’s hook so that she could share the excitement of reeling one in, hopefully next time.

 After lunch we set course for home on a long port reach until reaching the harbour channel where we ran before the wind into the harbour. Along the way Yolande tactfully pointed out that we were sailing awfully near to a channel beacon, which I acknowledged seeing, but denied we were too close, when the boom and sail, which extended well out on our starboard beam, struck the pile with a resounding clang. For one horrible moment I thought the mainsail was going to catch on the triangular plate and rip itself to bits, but thankfully nothing caught and we sailed on.

 I resigned myself to having a crap day on the water, I mean hitting one thing on a trip is bad enough but two? I have no idea what was going on but determined to regain some pride decided to sail as far into the harbour as my nerve would allow me. We were well up the channel between the marina pontoons to our starboard and pile moorings to our port, before Yolande politely expressed a complete lack of confidence in my ability and requested that we start the motor. Looking ahead, I could see a large yacht using the entire channel to manoeuvre into its berth and decided that if he muffed it and baulked, we’d plough straight into his stern. Common sense prevailing, I dropped the sails and we motored slowly up to our pontoon where we tied Lara up for the night for the guys to rack the next morning.

Log Entry 30th September 2008

With the September school holidays in full swing I arranged to to take two days recreation leave from work so that we could enjoy a couple of family days on the water. We had talked for a long time previously about an overnight trip in Lara and decided we would sail to Peel Island on the Sunday, anchor overnight in Horseshoe Bay, and return on the Monday. We left Wynnum Manly harbour a little after 1pm in a 20-25 knot NE wind. After passing between Green and King Islands we steered south west on a running reach. The wind had whipped up up a few white caps and with it a half metre to a metre swell, which occasionally had Lara surfing gently down the face of a wave. Overall though, we were quite comfortable, despite the motion of the hull due to the swell rolling in under our stern quarter.

Horseshoe Bay on the southern side of Peel offers a safe and sheltered anchorage under these conditions and arriving there around 5pm saw us anchoring amongst the usual large flotilla a yachts and cruisers. The girls tried their hand unsuccessfully at fishing while Yolande prepared and cooked a very nice stew for dinner. Settling in for the evening, I was anxious that we were secure and had allowed sufficient room to swing on the tide without hitting any of the boats around us. My vigilance proved warranted, as later in the evening it was clear that Lara was dragging seawards on her anchor. Motoring in and resetting it seemed to fix the problem, although I must admit to being somewhat puzzled, given the length of heavy chain and weight of the plough we use. (Retrieving the anchor the next morning, I could see that the shackle was installed the wrong way round, allowing it to twist and jam sideways, thus any tension on the warp was putting sideways tension on the anchor shaft.)


The following morning after a bacon and egg breakfast the girls spent a couple of hours walking along the beach and bomb diving off the back of the boat, We left around 12:30 for the homeward trip as an afternoon change was forecast bringing with it 25-30knot winds, which I preferred to avoid. Arriving back at the marina around 4pm we tidied Lara and left her moored to the dock for the guys to rack.

The next morning, with 20-25 knot winds, this time from the south-east, we headed out for simple day trip, taking with us two of Helena’s school friends who were keen to go sailing. We decided to head to Peel Island again although the outward leg turned into a bit of a slog beating to windward the entire time. Horseshoe Bay in a breezy south-easterly isn’t really pleasant as the anchorage is open to the weather in these conditions.

After lunch and a swim we decided it would be fun to sail around the eastern end of the island and return on a long downwind run alongside the Amity Banks. We arrived back at the marina around 6:30pm enjoying a glorious sunset along the way and the delights of sailing in the evening dusk.

Log Entry 2nd August 2008

A Sunday forecast of falling seas and 10-15 knot winds promised a pleasant day's sailing, which we decided to take advantage of after a break due to an overseas holiday. Arriving at the harbour around 10:15am, it took the marina guys only minutes to launch Lara after which we loaded her with all the usual paraphernalia for a day on the water.

Today we also had the pleasure of the company of two of our nieces Lauren and Jacklyn, who were free for the day and keen to experience sailing. Motoring out of the harbour, surprise, surprise, the wind was no where near the anticipated strength as we raised the sails and bobbed almost motionless in the water. Restarting the outboard we set a course toward the greater part of the Bay passing between Green and King Islands, before heading north to St Helena for a roam around the island. Anchoring at our favourite spot just to the east of the St Helena jetty, the older girls went for a walk whilst the younger two splashed, paddled and generally messed about on the beach.

Knowing that we had anchored on a falling tide, I was a little anxious about Lara grounding, so every five minutes or so I waded out and pushed her another meter or two further from the beach. Unfortunately, I think at some stage the bottom plateaued and there was no further scope to push Lara into deeper water. Consequently within a very short space of time she became firmly stuck! Well, no amount of grunting, pushing or dragging would shift her, luckily however a group of jet skiers who saw our plight immediately rushed over to assist. After a solid ten minutes and with the combined effort of at least five others, we finally dragged and pushed Lara into deeper water. The relief I felt was absolutely palpable.

We collected Yolande and Lauren from the end of the jetty as they hadn't managed to scramble aboard as Lara slipped into deeper water. The jet skiers by now had taken off and were exploring the island, waving as they passed us. I was certainly very grateful for their unsolicited help and the mighty effort they provided, without any hint of humour or bagging at our predicament. I haven't generally had a lot of nice things to say about jet skis (or their riders) but after the unstinting help provided by these fellow mariners, I made a promise henceforth to change my poor opinion of them and refrain from any future disparaging comments.

Usual lunch of fried sausages on bread rolls followed, after which the wind picked up sufficiently for us to sail home to the harbour under Jacklyn's expert helmsmanship.

(Pity about the photographs, I mistakenly had the Leica set at 400 ISO which really makes for horribly noisy images.)

Log Entry 25th May 2008

A Sunday forecast of SE-SW 10-15 knot winds, tending to the NE in the afternoon, saw us out today for another leisurely Sunday sail. Took the opportunity to invite my father along as he has always had a keen interest in boats, although hasn't owned one himself. Dad was instrumental in fostering my interest in sailing when he purchased a Sabot for us kids in the early 70's. In fact our destination for the day, (another short voyage to King Island), is where I had sailed the Sabot as a fourteen or fifteen year old many, (many!) years ago.

Many yachts on the water today however most were almost stationary in the light breeze. I used the outboard to help push us along at 3-4 knots towards the spit between King Island and Wellington Point. Dad had the helm for the outward leg whilst I stood on the bow taking photographs. It was about this time that one of the plastic handles on the forepeak hatch decided to detach and fall overboard. I don't know exactly what sort of plastic it was made of but it sank like a stone!

Anchoring by the stern we waded ashore and went for a wander. As usual the girls collected a truckload of dead coral and shells as we took all of ten minutes to circumnavigate the grass and mangrove hummock that comprises the island itself.

Despite its relatively small size it is an interesting place, just large enough to generate (in me anyway) what travel writer Thurston Clarke refers to as "islomania", idyllic fantasies of fiefdoms and laird-ships, dreams of self sufficiency, a sense of isolation and of being in control of one's destiny. The island was in fact inhabited from 1904 to 1906 by a banker, his wife and family of seven children, one of whom suffered from polio. It was thought that the sea air and regular bathing were helpful in moderating the effects of this terrible disease. Hard to imaging any formal structure existing even then on a place so small, but apparently it was somewhat larger in area until eroded by the destruction of protective mangrove banks. The family lived in tents and a marquee and according to surviving notes from a grandson, were very happy with their lot.

In 1943 the US Navy built a gunnery school on the tip of Wellington Point where they practised shooting what ever sort of guns they used at that time. King Island also proved useful to them as a "bombing" range where aircraft dropped silk drogue targets after gunnery practice. (These notes courtesy of Peter Lulow's "Moreton Bay People" and the Redland Shire Council's record of local history.)

We shared the spot with other families in tinnies and cabin cruisers, along with some sea kyakers and the obligatory jet ski. Had a yarn with a couple of gents who turned up in a beautiful little trailer-sailer that I mistook for a Cherry 16. The older chap, a designer and boat builder by trade, was responsible for building this very attractive boat called a Redfin 520. Apparently they are available in plan or kit form from his firm "Trailaway Boat Kits" in Loganholme. The thing fairly flew along in the light air.

After a lunch of coffee/tea and fried snags on bread rolls we retrieved the anchor for the trip home. The wind had swung around to the NE by this time, enabling us to reach at a reasonable rate of knots northwards to intersect the harbour channel. Joining the usual queue of returning boats we ran slowly towards the harbour, using the outboard for the last kilometre or so. Started the usual tidy-up dropping the sails and bagging them. As the marina staff had finished for the day, we Left Lara against the East Coast pontoon for them to retrieve in the morning

Log Entry 5th May 2008 (Labour Day Sail)

Arrived at the harbour around 10:30am this morning to find Lara bobbing alongside the landing as arranged. Yolande's Mum and Dad were with us as they had expressed a desire to see the boat. Whilst they did not wish to actually sail, we persuaded them to at least go for slow spin around Manly boat harbour which was a lot of fun in itself. The myriad of moored watercraft are very interesting and much more visibly accessible from the water.

Dropping them off back at the landing, we waved good-bye, and motored out into a a gentle 5-10 knot north-easterly beating towards St Helena Island for a shell collecting expedition that we had previously promised the girls, (but weren't able to undertake), on our trip to Peel Island.

We anchored on the southern side of the island near the jetty, as this area offered the least shallow water. Despite this we still had to moor Lara about 25 metres offshore to maintain half a metre of water under her, and due to a dropping tide, I constantly readjusted the anchor, pushing Lara out another couple of metres every quarter of an hour or so so that she wouldn't ground. The ladder proved to be a very worthwhile investment and there were no problems boarding or climbing down from Lara's transom.

Re-boarding and moving Lara into deeper water off the island, we consumed a late lunch consisting of sausages and onions on fresh bread rolls, coffee, and a very nice caramel swirl pull-apart bun, which I had bought from the bakery earlier in the morning.

Whilst eating, a Hobie Cat with brightly coloured sails breezed past our stern. Hoisting our own sails, we ran slowly back to Manly in a very gentle sea. The oldest and youngest girls snoozed on the vee-berth while daughter number two sat on the bow and wrote about the day's adventure in her journal. Johanna really enjoys writing as I do and loves to conjure up short stories.

Yolande did a very good job at the tiller to bring us up to the channel beacons where we turned to join the long queue of boats returning home. Tied up at the landing around 5:30pm after which we put on the sail covers, tidied up Lara and headed home.

Log Entry 3rd May 2005

Various family commitments were always going to prevent a sail today, and so the opportunity was taken to rectify some of Lara's faults mentioned in the previous log entry. Our experience at Peel Island had more than convinced Yolande of the need for a boarding ladder, and having purchased one earlier this week, I was ably assisted (well actually he did most of the work) by Phil to fit it to Lara's transom.

We also identified an unattached wire as being the culprit that prevented the stern light working, which was quickly fixed. It also turns out that if there is a masthead light, there are no wires running to and up through the mast to power it. Not really concerned about it though, because if anchoring at night, we can easily haul a battery powered strobe up the forestay using the jib halyard.

Finally, we also fitted a bracket on the pushpit rail to hold the horseshoe float that usually sits, not very sensibly, on Lara's quarter-berth when we are under sail. It really needs to be to hand to throw to someone who falls overboard.

Log Entry 25th April 2008 (ANZAC Day Sail)

Today we had earmarked as a family outing, particularly as the two youngest girls had not sailed since the trip on the 10th March. As the conditions then had made their sailing experience a nervous one, we were hoping for a nice calm day to alleviate their concerns. The BOM Bay forecast earlier this week suggested a small low off the Queensland coast would generate 15-20 knot winds from the west, south-west, which resulted in a slightly lumpier sea than we would have preferred. The day didn't start too well with Freya expressing her misery about the impending voyage, lamenting loudly that she wanted to go home!

We left the marina about 11:30am, on a running reach under mainsail towards the Huybers Beacon, turning SSE towards Peel island, our intended destination. The sea was a bit lumpy, although reaching into the wind meant the boat stayed fairly dry, not so for yachts we saw beating into the chop. The waves weren't a problem either,as Lara occasionally surfed gently sideways down the bigger ones adding a knot or two to our speed. A largish expanse of greyish cloud blowing in from the SW idly threatened the possibility of a shower, which didn't happen, but the intermittent overcast did cool off the afternoon.

Rounding the beacons off the southern end of Peel Island we ran into Horseshoe Bay, where I had promised the girls a beach walk to collect shells. Unfortunately at about 4:30pm the tide was only an hour or so off low and the gently sloping bottom resulted in Lara grounding 20 or 30 metres off the beach. The area here is beautiful, all yellow sand and clear water, not surprisingly it is a very popular anchorage. The stiction between the Lara's long flat keel and the sandy bottom made it very difficult to push her back into deeper water and we were assisted by two very helpful blokes from a nearby speedboat, one of whom even went down on bended knee so Yolande could step up over the transom. (Oh, do we ever need that transom ladder!) Thanks again guys. Suffice to say the girls didn't get their walk, instead we anchored amongst the other boats for an early tea consisting of salad sandwiches washed down with coffee and chocolate chip biscuits.

Most people I have spoken to mistakenly confuse the penal colony and old hospital leprosarium sites believing the latter situated on St Helena Island. The hospital, or Lazaret as it came to be known, was in fact located on Peel Island. The hospital evolved from the original quarantine station located at Dunwich, an initial planning decision to move it to St Helena revoked after it was decided that St Helena would make a much better prison site. The availability of new drugs and treatment regimin negating the need for strict isolation resulted in the last ten patients (seven men and three women) being relocated to the Princess Alexander Hospital in August 1959, after which the Lazaret was closed.

Heading homeward at about 5:30pm we were treated to an awesome sunset of blues, purples, oranges and yellows until we were were off Cleveland Point where darkness overtook us. As the wind had dropped we motored northwards navigating from beacon to beacon through a slowly quietening sea. The Bay at night is truly a beautiful microcosm, the coastal lights and starry sky seemed both near and distant. Whilst surrounded locally by the dark of night, Lara's interior lights shone through the cabin windows bathing the water immediately around the hull with a comforting white light. I really felt like we were sailing in a giant snow dome in which everything around you is contained in a confined world seemingly so far away and yet deceptively close enough to blanket you with feeling of comfort and security.

Arriving at a point where I thought we should turn west to line up with the lead lights into Wynnum Harbour we found ourselves too far north in very shallow water as I had mistaken the distant lights of the Caltex oil refinery as the Wynnum promenade and had passed through the channel between St Helena and Green Island. Fortunately, with a little common sense and forethought, it isn't too hard to differentiate between landmarks, even at night, to backtrack one's course. The giraffe like cranes of the Port of Brisbane are very distinctive day or night, as is the huge vertical ariel rising up from St Helena Island. Despite this experience we were never lost in the true sense of the word and now knowing what the area around Wynnum harbour looks like at night, I doubt we will become disorientated sailing under these conditions again, (famous last words)?

Finally arriving at the marina pontoon around 8:45 we offloaded and tidied the boat before driving three tired but quite content girls home to an early bedtime. Actually both Yolande and I were also quite tired by journey's end too. Raising and lowering flogging sails, hauling a heavy anchor and chain is satisfying but very physical work. According to Google Maps and its handy distance measuring tool our entire trip was in excess of 50 kilometres. I constantly have to remind myself that Moreton Bay really is a large expanse of water, certainly felt like a great adventure!

Haven't had a chance to properly clean Lara for a while now so I will probably spend my next free day washing her and doing some maintenance. While adequately lit on the bow by a port and starboard light, we noticed that the stern and mast head lights don't work. The mast light will be tricky, and I no doubt will call on my good mate Phil for his advice on lowering the mast to check it. I am slowly leaning that the old yachty joke about boats being money pits needing constant work is true.

Log Entry 13th April 2008

Various commitments prevented us from sailing over the last fortnight, so the Sunday forecast of fine weather with 10-15 knot south-easterlies was the clincher that determined we would definitely be out on the bay this weekend. Unfortunately Yolande and the two younger girls had other engagements and so the crew consisted of Helena and me, and because we had loads of space, my brother and his partner also came along for the experience.

As usual, wind direction and strength determined our course and after thinking about it, I decided a straight beat out through the channel between Green Island and King Island might be best. Lots of boats on the water although the wind was quite light and many were running under power as well as sail. Passing the Thorpe Memorial Beacon off King Island, couldn’t help smiling when I heard a distinct thump as another yacht further inshore grounded, the skipper issuing a startled expletive.

The wind being quite light, I had decided to experiment with Lara wanting to see how well she sails without the centreboard dropped. The casing which holds it forms a long, shallow keel and I thought it would still provide enough resistance to reach and beat to windward. Sailing into the wind was certainly successful however there may have been some lateral drift in excess of that which normally occurs with the board down, was a bit hard to tell with tidal currents mucking up the wake behind the boat.

In hindsight, this may well have been the case, as a tinny, originally anchored off our starboard bow, seemed to slowly “drift” in front of us as we approached it. As we came to within about ten metres or so I decided to bear way to starboard, passing to the leeward side of it. All would have been well except the bloke’s fishing lines were all on that side as well, and I watched with fascination as our keel picked up first one line then another and dragged them along with us. Suffice to say the two fishermen in the tinny were not amused despite my apologies as we sailed past!

Turning on to a starboard tack we rounded the Hybers beacon, and headed north, along the windward side of Green Island, passing over an expansive shelf of coral and rock which in most places, despite the nearly high tide, was only a metre or two below the surface. The girls amused themselves looking at the bottom while dangling their feet in the water to cool off. At about this time a lovely old ketch converged on us from windward and I took several photographs of her as she overtook us. I am really curious as to the manner in which she is rigged as the sail between the masts is some form of jib rather than a mainsail and it certainly gave her an unexpected old worldly charm.

Approaching the southern end of St Helena, we sailed slowly up to a coarse sandy beach adjacent to the rock spit where I thought we would moor and explore the island by foot. We anchored stern first a couple of metres off the beach itself over a gently shelving bottom consisting of sand and rock. Stepping off the boat into crotch deep water isn’t too bad in itself, however having to lift one’s foot up to near chin level to climb back up further reinforced the need for an extendable transom ladder.

The island itself is quite picturesque, very green with lots of cattle grazing in open paddocks. Disappointingly, the remains of the old penal settlement were fenced off; the signage indicating that inspection is only open to officially organised tour parties. Still, the island has large public area, a covered picnic table nicely shaded by mature trees, as well as composting his and hers toilets.

The reach back to Manly took us back along the western side of Green Island, which effectively dampened the wind such that we started the outboard to reach the harbour channel. Helena has become very adept at helming and controlled Lara masterfully as we negotiated the entrance amongst a large number of other vessels, large and small, all returning home. Safely moored against the pontoon saw us quickly tidy up the boat and head off home just in time for Sunday dinner at the in-laws.

Log Entry 21st March 2008

Today marks the start of the annual Brisbane to Gladstone yacht race and I was invited to sail with a work colleague and his crew of regulars to see the race on the water. Darryl has a Ross 830, which he stores at the Royal Queensland Yacht Squadron, located adjacent to Lara’s berth at East Coast Marina on Manley boat harbour.

After a slow start from the harbour where the mainsail flapped uselessly and the spinnaker refused to fill we motored to the north side of the Mud Island well into the bay. Eventually the south-easterly picked up and we sailed over to a marker off Tangalooma (Moreton Island). This marker was part of the course around which contestants sailed before heading north out of Moreton Bay.

It certainly was a prime viewing spot and it was very exciting to watch the boats reaching powerfully up to it before turning north onto a spinnaker run.

The Bay is a very busy place commercially and the deep water in this area is vital to the navigation of large ships in and out of the Port of Brisbane. This Origin vessel, which I think is a natural gas carrier, was one of the smaller vessels we saw.

Thanks for the invite Darryl, and thanks to Dave, Andrew and Dave (2) for sharing a beer and some good boating conversation.

Log Entry 15th March 2008

The wind continued to blow strongly at 20-25 knots from the south east all of this past week, with more of the same forecast for today. Rather than wait for fine weather, my good friend Phil, highly experienced sailor that he is, volunteered earlier in the week to crew with me, so that I might gain experience sailing in heavier weather; particularly the sort of conditions that require sail reefing and a greater awareness of the sensitivities of the boat. As our two younger girls were not keen to experience the heavier going Yolande volunteered to stay home and babysit, so the final crew comprised Phil, his son William, Helena and myself.

A revised BoM forecast earlier in the morning indicated an easing of the conditions to a 15-20 knot south-easterly and we left the harbour under a crisp clear blue sky and steady breeze. A minor mishap that may have contributed to a later problem was the outboard stopping prematurely as we exited the harbour. I don’t think I attached the fuel line properly and the engine ran dry. As we already had both the main and headsail up, we simply tilted the outboard up and out of the way and didn’t worry about it, (big mistake).

The conditions in the bay were very favourable for boating as we beat steadily north-eastwards out of the markers, towards the passage between Green Island and King Island. Lara cruised along at 4 to 5 knots until were about level with King Island where we tacked to head south. Helena was very keen to beach the boat, perhaps have a swim and try her luck fishing with a hand reel. Passing close to the Thorpe Memorial Beacon we continued into Waterloo Bay until we were well past a coral outcrop before tacking to starboard, sailing until we gently nudged and moored on the long sand spit that joins King Island to Wellington Point. I was surprised but pleased that despite the shoal keel we were able to anchor so close to terra firma, climbing down from the bow into only about two feet of water. The sand comprising the bottom and the spit itself is quite coarse but still very pleasant to walk barefoot on.

Watching the kid’s gymnastics trying to climb up on to the bow though, I think however that we will have to invest in an extendable boarding ladder on the transom, and moor stern in; although I am grateful to Phil for demonstrating the ancient art of walking up the anchor chain, which made the boarding task easier. After a bit of a wander, in which Helena and William collected a few shells, we had a bite to eat and thought about returning to the harbour. Unfortunately today coincided with the local council election, and neither Phil nor I had voted as yet and I was mindful of the waste of money an electoral office fine would be for failing to vote should they decide to impose one. (The electoral office had imposed one against me some years ago – ouch!)

Leaving the spit was uneventful as the south-easterly blew us gently away from shore and we headed off on a broad reach south before practising a few gybes and starting the run for home. The water near the harbour beacons was full of boats participating in Saturday races and we were mindful to adjust our steerage several times so as not to interrupt their course.

We entered the harbour under full sail, ghosting down an avenue of tightly packed boats moored on either side of us, until reaching the ninety degree turn to starboard required at the end to approach the mooring pontoon. We dropped the sails at this point and intended to use the outboard however it refused to start, not a flicker of life at all. After some frantic fiddling and starter cord pulling we gave up on the engine, luckily realising that the gentle south-easter was blowing us in the right direction anyway. As the pontoon space was already taken up, Phil jumped over the bow at the last minute to cushion Lara as we nudged up against a dive boat against which we rafted up. The marina crew had already shut up shop by this time so we tidied Lara up and left her there for the staff to rack in the morning.

Phil had an expert look at the engine, drawing no doubt on his vast experience and knowledge accumulated from twenty plus years as an RAAF engine fitter dealing with things mechanical; after which he pronounced he had no idea what was wrong with it! He did manage to start it though by bypassing the hand throttle (which automatically engages the prop on any setting other than idle) and opening the throttle fully. I am now wondering whether the float bowl, (do they have one still?) was bone dry from my earlier error and needed to refill before the engine would start. I’ll read the instruction book during the week and have a fiddle with the outboard on Friday to test my theory.

Thanks again Phil for your expert tutelage, we didn’t reef a sail but maybe next time! (And yes I at least voted locally, arriving at the booth with fifteen minutes to spare.)

Log Entry 10th March 2008

Lara has sat patiently for more than a fortnight now, waiting for us to take her out for an inaugural sail. Unfortunately the weather has not been kind over the last two weekends due to blustery 25 to 30 knot south-easterly winds, not ideal for us as inexperienced sailors on an unfamiliar boat. However Saturday the 8th March seemed promising with a 10–15 knot south-easterly tending to 15–20 knots later in the day. Arriving at the marina around 9:00am we loaded Lara with food, water and other odds and ends after which I finalised the transfer of the berth into our name and had her launched.

Moored to the pier we removed the sail covers, familiarised ourselves with the rigging and prepped and started the outboard, (a reliable 8 hp 4 stroke Mercury). It was then we experienced crises number one. Lara’s large rudder, permanently mounted through the cockpit floor just aft of the shoal keel doesn’t “bite” and provide steerage until there is reasonable forward movement. Moored on the port side with a strong SE wind blowing across our starboard bow, Lara would not initially move away from the pier, turned to port instead of starboard when she finally did move and ended up perpendicular to her starting point facing a cul-de-sac bounded by moored boats. Feeling like an idiot and expecting to look up and see a couple of hundred boaties gleefully enjoying our predicament, we were rescued by the marina hands who sympathetically commented that a SE can make casting off difficult.

With a helpful push of the bow, we finally made it into the harbour channel and motored at a gentle 2-3 knots to the beacons at the harbour entrance. Motoring well clear of the entrance we turned Lara into the wind to raise the sails. Crises number two! Whilst I was attempting to raise the mainsail Helena pointed out that the lower mainsheet block had unmounted itself from the traveller. Returning to the cockpit it was clear a retaining shaft had worked free due to a missing split pin. After reattaching the block and inserting the locking pin I returned to the mast only to find the mainsheet halyard had wrapped itself around the shroud spreaders. Ten minutes of juggling, swinging and swearing finally saw it free and with the main up Lara took off on a starboard reach towards Green Island.

Given the strength of the wind, we decided against raising the jib, particularly as nearly every other yacht we saw had either a main or a jib or a reefed combination of the two. Approaching the lee side of Green Island we decided to turn north to take look at St Helena Island, where the ruins of the former penal settlement are still plainly visible. With Lara now running, the apparent wind speed dropped substantially as we gently rocked and rolled towards the southern end of St Helena.

Of course there is always a price to be paid for an easy sailing leg, as we were to find out. After passing the long jetty and admiring the ruins from a leisurely distance we decided to head back. Rather than gybing I thought it safer to go about to reverse our track, which is when of course we experienced crises number three! Lara would not turn through the wind, each time stalling as we came about. After three or four attempts I decided that the boat probably doesn’t tack well without the jib, so I coaxed her around using the outboard.

Returning south proved to be quite uncomfortable as we were now beating into a wind blown chop, particularly as we crossed the passage between St Helena and Green Islands. We could see rain from several showers crossing the open bay towards us however we were spared a drenching from these, having only to contend with a sray as it whipped over the bow. Helena had the helm for almost the entire trip back and did a very good job of keeping us on course. Yolande, Johanna and Freya sat below deck, as the combination of wind and spray showering the cockpit was actually quite cold. The jib we had left flapping in the pulpit threatened to blow overboard so I bagged it, crawling on my hands to and from the bow, not particularly graceful but certainly safer than walking without a harness.

Approaching the lee side of Green Island from the north we decided that we weren’t travelling quite quickly enough and so I again started the outboard, which we used to gently push us along at a more constant 2-3 knots. Entering the outer beacons we dropped the main (after struggling with the halyard which I had mistakenly cleated in such a fashion it took me a good five minutes to release) and continued to cruise in using the motor. By this time a lot of skiffs were leaving the harbour with their crews out on a trapezes, one passed us on the port side and I watched with some amusement as it recovered from a near capsize by way of some impressive gymnastics by the crew.

Motoring back thought he harbour proved uneventful, as did our jetty approach and mooring. The marina staff were most helpful in retrieving and berthing Lara after which we flushed the outboard tidied the boat and had coffee in the marina café before heading home, (satisfied but very tired)!

What did we learn? Check the running rigging thoroughly before a departure. Decide to steer the boat under power using the outboard or ship’s rudder but not both, learn to tie off sheets and halyards properly. Overall though, I am very happy with the way Lara handles, at no time did I feel that we were in danger. The boat felt solid and sure when we were sailing her and heeling was gentle and I suspect predicable when we are more experienced.

Can’t wait till our next trip.

Log Entry 8th March 2008

Lara is the sixth and newest member of our family (yet another girl!) whom we officially “adopted” on the 21st of February 2008. Although twenty-four years old she presents extremely well having undergone an extensive refinish in 2006. Having sailed a Sabot well into my teens I have always enjoyed sailing and reading sailing adventures, particularly small boat global circumnavigations of which there have been many over the years. More recently but still some years ago, Yolande and I had the pleasure of overnighting at Moreton Island on a friend’s Star 22, a comfortable aluminium trailer sailer, as well, I was lucky enough to crew in a two-day social trailer sailer race on another friend’s Red Jacket. Yolande has always dreamed of owning a boat and since we are not getting any younger, we decided this would be an opportune time to take the plunge, particularly as our other girls are growing up fast and this would enable us to enjoy a pastime as a family.

At just over twenty-three feet (or seven metres) and 1.8 tonnes, I’m not sure Lara qualifies as a trailer sailer, although she is certainly trailerable. She sleeps four (or two adults and three kids) and with all the conveniences of home (sink, stove, icebox, dinette etc) she will be a comfortable and cosy overnighter. We are fortunate that she is also a Hood 23SD (shoal draft), which I think is more convenient for the shallows of Moreton Bay than the keel version. Lara is currently dry berthed at the Wynnum-Manly boat harbour, which means she sits fully rigged and can be launched and retrieved by the marina’s boatlift at very short notice.