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.