We continued sailing under full mainsail and gennaker through the night, until the wind vanished around 02:00 am. Approaching Flinders Island (South Australia, not Tasmania) from the south took us past several anchorages on the island’s east coast, but we pushed on to Flinders Bay on the north coast. We took care to do a wide loop and approach from the northwest, in order to avoid a reef extending north of Point Malcolm. By 03:55 am, having sailed 75 nautical miles we were safely anchored over sand in two meters of water. This partial night sail, which required two watches, had been a good taste of longer legs to come. When double-handled, I prefer four three-hour watches, namely 21:00, 00:00, 03:00, and 06:00. I usually take the midnight and 06:00 watches, as I like to be on the helm at sunrise.
Unlike many other islands in the Investigator Group of islands, such as the Pearson Isles and Top Gallant Isles, Flinders Island is not located in a marine sanctuary zone. We took advantage of that to troll for half an hour and caught two large snook, before turning north for St Francis Island.
One of two large snook we caught. |
Snook ceviche for dinner. |
We enjoyed light winds from the SSE that gradually increased in strength during the afternoon. Shortly after midnight, we reached Petrel Bay on the north coast of St Francis Island, which offers protection from the southeast through south to the west. There is lots of weed but good holding can be found. That said, our first attempt at a depth of five meters failed. We had a brief scare when we suddenly realized that we were only about 100 meters away from low-lying cliffs, as we mistakenly thought the shore was mostly sandy. As it turns out, only the western shoreline is beach, and the eastern shoreline of the bay is intermittently rocky and sandy. Nevertheless, we nailed anchoring on the second attempt, albeit in deeper water. The low island was a poor barrier for 18-knot SE winds that blew right over it, with swell wrapping around the point into the bay. We’d sailed just over 100 nautical miles in 15 hours and celebrated New Year’s Eve with a quick G&T, under the dim glow of our red running lights.
NYE 2025! |
We were keen to make an early start the following day. Going ashore was not an option anyway, as St Francis Island is an important bird breeding area that is part of the Nuyts Archipelago Wilderness Protection Area. These days a permit is required for shore access.
By morning it was only blowing twelve knots in the bay, but we reefed at anchor in anticipation of higher winds to come. To my dismay, I noticed that the sheath had separated from the 2nd reefing line, right where the line passed through the clew grommet. It was only a matter of time before it abraded and we lost reefing capability, so as a temporary precaution I added bolt ropes at the tack and clew.
We were finally underway at 9:05, and set our course for Great Australian Bight Scenic Lookout #2 on the coast of the Nullarbor Plains. I should note that there are essentially two ways to cross the Great Australian Bight. The direct approach is to sail straight for one of the eastern islands of the Recherche Archipelago. Cape Borda on Kangaroo Island is often the preferred jumping-off point. The indirect approach is to sail via Eucla. We had decided on the latter but, by heading for a point well west of Eucla, we planned to sail along the Bunda Cliffs, where the Nullabor Plains meet the fury of the Southern Ocean.
At 14:35, we altered our course to head for Scenic Lookout #1, further to the east. We sailed through the night under main and jib, averaging 7 knots from a 15-knot southeasterly. By 06:30 the following day, we were 7 ½ nautical miles south of the coast and 15 ½ nautical miles from Scenic Lookout #1. At 08:27, a mere 0.6 nautical miles offshore, we turned east to sail parallel to the coast.
The cliffs were truly stunning (top photo). We felt especially privileged to be able to enjoy them from our vantage point on the water. After all, most visitors have to content themselves with sideways views from an occasional scenic lookout. No scenic lookout for us! For over 60 nautical miles, we revelled in the uninterrupted magnificence of the cliffs. The sailing conditions were ideal too, as we glided over smooth waters at almost eight knots before an ESE wind.
By morning it was only blowing twelve knots in the bay, but we reefed at anchor in anticipation of higher winds to come. To my dismay, I noticed that the sheath had separated from the 2nd reefing line, right where the line passed through the clew grommet. It was only a matter of time before it abraded and we lost reefing capability, so as a temporary precaution I added bolt ropes at the tack and clew.
We were finally underway at 9:05, and set our course for Great Australian Bight Scenic Lookout #2 on the coast of the Nullarbor Plains. I should note that there are essentially two ways to cross the Great Australian Bight. The direct approach is to sail straight for one of the eastern islands of the Recherche Archipelago. Cape Borda on Kangaroo Island is often the preferred jumping-off point. The indirect approach is to sail via Eucla. We had decided on the latter but, by heading for a point well west of Eucla, we planned to sail along the Bunda Cliffs, where the Nullabor Plains meet the fury of the Southern Ocean.
At 14:35, we altered our course to head for Scenic Lookout #1, further to the east. We sailed through the night under main and jib, averaging 7 knots from a 15-knot southeasterly. By 06:30 the following day, we were 7 ½ nautical miles south of the coast and 15 ½ nautical miles from Scenic Lookout #1. At 08:27, a mere 0.6 nautical miles offshore, we turned east to sail parallel to the coast.
Approaching the Bunda Cliffs. |
The cliffs were truly stunning (top photo). We felt especially privileged to be able to enjoy them from our vantage point on the water. After all, most visitors have to content themselves with sideways views from an occasional scenic lookout. No scenic lookout for us! For over 60 nautical miles, we revelled in the uninterrupted magnificence of the cliffs. The sailing conditions were ideal too, as we glided over smooth waters at almost eight knots before an ESE wind.
Eventually we spotted the distinctive bluff known as Wilson Bluf, which signalled the start of the entrance to Eucla Roads. I’ll cover that in my next blog post.
OVER.
OVER.
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