We were waiting for a replacement steering shaft for Arriba. The custom part would take a couple of days to be fabricated, then a few days to be delivered, and finally one day to be installed. That gave us ample time to explore the town and the beautiful surrounding areas, such as Great Otway National Park.
The Apollo Bay Museum, a short bus ride away, was also memorable with its captivating blend of maritime and telecommunications displays. We learned that the first submarine telephone cable that linked the mainland and Tasmania was laid from Apollo Bay in 1936. Compared to today's massive bundles of fiber optic cables, it was a primitive piece of technology that could carry a mere five telephone conversations simultaneously. The museum’s real drawcard, however, was the nautical memorabilia of dozens of shipwrecks, with poignant stories of tragedy and survival.
My mind raced back to those morbid thoughts I had been having only a few days earlier. Would the steering-impaired Arriba manage to clear Cape Otway, or would we become another statistic on the Shipwreck Coast? I wondered what would have survived to become a display item in the Apollo Bay Museum? Arriba’s life buoy, her EPIRB, or a tattered piece of sail emblazoned with Arriba’s sail number, YC77? Fortunately, we dodged the cape. I’d like to think that we were well prepared and that it was more skill than luck.
One week after our steering failure, we were ready for Take 2 on the Shipwreck Coast. By then, half of my crew had decided to return to Adelaide, leaving my sister, Cathie, as my sole remaining crew. We departed at 09:00 under sunny, clear skies and light winds. We had the privilege of viewing the limestone sea stacks known as the 12 Apostles from the sea (top photo). Unlike eight days earlier, our trip was uneventful and we anchored in Port Fairy Bay fourteen hours later. The following morning we motored up the serene Moyne River and berthed near the fuel dock. It was Saturday morning, a lively market was in full swing, and for the next few hours we explored this delightful town. Twenty years had slipped by since my last visit, which was the year I returned to Australia after living overseas for two decades. I vowed not to wait another two decades before returning.
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| Arriba at Apollo Bay. |
The following morning, we set sail for Robe, 154 nautical miles to the northwest. In retrospect, we should have spent another day ashore as the conditions were foul once we left the harbour. For eight hours we battled headwinds that gusted to gale force, painstakingly, tacking our way upwind. By sunset, the strong winds had abated and we enjoyed our stir-fry dinner at the helm.
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| Dinner at the helm. |
We sailed peacefully through the night in 7 to 10 knot winds under full mainsail and gennaker. While the conditions were greatly improved, we had to maintain a constant vigil for the lobster pots that litter this stretch of coastline. Light from the waning full moon greatly assisted us in spotting, but we still had a few close calls. As the day’s first light appeared at 07:00 the wind subsided, so we furled the gennaker and started motor sailing, which made it easier to avoid the lobster pot buoys.
Returning to a known harbor is reassuring, and such was the case when we pulled into Robe’s Lake Butler Marina at 10:28. I was reunited with Merri, who had driven down from Adelaide to Robe to relieve Cathie. We enjoyed two days exploring Robe, which is known for both its historic buildings and beautiful beaches. During the summer the town’s population explodes, bolstered by visitors flocking there from Adelaide and Melbourne. It was still spring though and the crowds had yet to descend.
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| Among great navigators, Flinders and Baudin. |
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| Wine tasting in Robe. |
We departed just as the first rays appeared, exiting the marina into a bumpy Guichen Bay at 06:51. Once clear of the bay, we raised the gennaker and our speed soared to 8 knots. Patchy clouds and rain persisted throughout the day, but the SSW winds put us on a fast beam reach. A few hours later, when the winds rose to 25 knots, I decided it was time to furl the gennaker. At precisely the wrong time we were hit by a gust and the flogging gennaker was damaged in the process. The gusty rainy conditions continued, but we were at least making good time, averaging 7 ½ knots.
With the sun setting and winds starting to moderate, I was looking forward to some slightly calmer sailing overnight. Suddenly, the entire bow of Arriba was awash. A giant wave had crashed over our bow. The forward saloon hatches, which are usually 2m above sea level, were now submarine portholes. The water drained away as quickly as it appeared, but not without damaging the prodder pole (bow sprit). Night fell and the winds seldom exceeded 20 knots, but the messy sea state deprived us of precious boat speed.
At midnight we rounded Cape St Albans, the northeastern point of Kangaroo Island, and a few minutes later we anchored in Antechamber Bay. Although only seventeen hours of sailing, it had been an exhausting day. Sleep came quickly.
And ended slowly. Luxuriating in our calm anchorage, we did not set sail until 09:45 the following morning. The Southern Ocean was well and truly behind us but Backstairs Passage was punishing us with a two knot ebb current. The 24 nautical miles to Wirrina Cove took us five hours.
It is hard to describe the elation as we approached the marina. Arriba had been away for 648 days. We had sailed around Tasmania and to New Caledonia and back. We had been dismasted, lost steering, damaged sails, broken windows, and more.
But the most important tally was zero—zero injuries.
Special thanks go to:
- Sail makers: Doyle Sails (HBA), Ian Short Sails (SYD), Dr. Sail (NOU), Quantum Sails (MEL), Bravo Sails (ADL)
- Mechanics: Michel Bonnet (NOU), Taz Marine (ADL)
- Shipwrights: Cox Marine (MEL)
- Riggers: Superior Masts & Rigging (MEL)
- Insurers: CYCSA Discretionary Trust
Well written piece about a beautiful part of Victoria!
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