Home to Hazy Hobart – Tuesday 5th March

Position: Home!

During Monday evening, as they returned from trips ashore, the occupants of most of the boats in the anchorage pulled up their anchors and pootled across the bay to the far south-eastern shore. This was because the wind was forecast to change to the south during the night, exposing the anchorage to a bit of fetch, but as it was only forecast to be very light we couldn’t be bothered moving and settled down for our last night on board.

In the wee hours of the morning we were gently rocked about, but after so long at sea we barely noticed it, and slept peacefully until the dawn, when we got up and got going so as to reach the canal close to high tide. The sky was hazy and we could smell bushfire smoke, something we hadn’t experienced in the north at all, and a sage reminder of the devastating fires still burning in our precious wilderness areas.


After setting us on course with the auto-pilot Derek sneaked back down below for a bit of extra sleep leaving me keeping a lookout. Once again, we barely met another boat until we neared the Marion Narrows and I kept reading my book, The Secret Life of Whales, a memoir by Micheline Jenner about her nearly 25 years researching whales around the Australian coast and into Antarctic waters.

Beautiful blue-green breakers were rolling onto Marion Bay Beach right beside the entrance. It’s a little disconcerting to be sailing towards the beach, but we had the chart plotter as well as the leads to line up and follow into the narrow entrance. As usual I called out depths and directions based on the chart-plotter’s record of our out-bound track two weeks earlier, while Derek steered us through.


We were soon overtaken by a fast vessel used for mooring installation and maintenance, and we were still quite a distance from the leads to the canal when we heard him call the bridge operator on the radio. We weren’t going to be able to get through at the same time and by the time we got to the leads and called up, the bridge operator had reclosed the canal to let the waiting traffic through. It wasn’t long, however, before he reopened it for us and we were able to glide on through without waiting.

Through the bridge is another very shallow channel, indicated by red and green channel markers, and negotiating this we found ourselves back in our home waters of Fredrick Henry Bay. There was barely a ripple on the wide bay and we motored past Fulham Island, Lime Bay and Sloping Island before nearing the sculpted sandstone cliffs of Cape Deslacs, at the end of Clifton Beach. Here is another short-tailed shearwater rookery and hundreds of birds were rafting on the water. As we neared the flock, birds took flight streaming off to either side of the boat.

Along Hope Beach, we passed another yacht with the crew on the foredeck hoisting a spinnaker. By the time they had set it in the light breeze we had passed between Blackjack Rocks and Betsey Island on our way to rounding the Iron Pot. I always look fondly on this little lighthouse at the entrance to the Derwent River. I remember as a child going up Mt Wellington with my grandfather, from where he pointed it out and told me, with straight face, that it was the south pole.


We ate a simple lunch of cheese and crackers, and with the city looming up in front of us through the smoke haze our thoughts drifted to home and we began to pack up the boat. Our trip was almost over.

Our son Ben was waiting to meet us as we pulled into our marina berth at Bellerive. We tied up and began to unload, and whilst Derek and Ben took loads to the car I began washing two and a half weeks of salt and grime off the boat. By late afternoon we were home, tired but grateful for a wonderful trip. It had not been without its challenges, but also full of rewards. And we have tomorrow’s twilight race to look forward to!

Setting Sail Again

I know I’ve been quiet – well, slack is really the truth – but it’s time to begin again being a new year and all that, so here goes! (It’s not that we haven’t been sailing for the past 12 months or so…)

The end of a year is always hectic. Wrapping everything up at work for the year and getting ready to celebrate Christmas, but also getting ready for our summer sailing trip. After our first Christmas without Ben (our youngest went overseas on his own to experience an English Christmas!), our 19th Christmas in the Mall (hot), the usual Stoneman Family Boxing Day BBQ at ours (raining!) and a lovely time with our house-guests (Gayelene, our best and oldest family friend from Sydney, with her two boys Jordan and Trent, and a new addition, Molly, from Chicago!) we embarked, the two of us with Susan, Derek’s older sister, and motored out of the Derwent River under lowering grey skies on Thursday 29th December.

As usual we were going against the flow of boat traffic. The middle placed yachts of the Sydney to Hobart were coming up the river to the finish line, and the river was buzzing with spectator craft. We passed close to three or four 40 to 50 footers, and gave them a congratulatory wave, before we rounded the Iron Pot and headed east towards Fredrick Henry Bay. This year the lead maxi-yachts shredded the previous race record to bits, as they enjoyed perfect racing conditions – a brisk northerly the whole way down. We had visited the waterfront to have a look at the line-honours winner Perpetual Loyal – a row of empty champagne bottles proudly displayed on deck! – and the other maxis before we left. Looking at the size of everything – the huge winches, long prod, tall mast, and the width of the boat to negotiate when tacking (a daunting climb if you’re late and the boat is heeling over!) it’s interesting to imagine racing on board these huge boats. Note that my imagination is enough – I don’t feel the need to actually experience a Sydney-Hobart race!

In our 40 foot cruising yacht, we motor-sailed behind Betsey Island and across Fredrick Henry Bay to a little beach around the corner from Dunbabin Point, close to Murdunna. The tide was way out as we came in to anchor. A tinnie had been abandoned on the sand flats near a couple of shacks and later we watched as a couple of blokes wheeled their boat trailer gingerly across the flats to retrieve it. We had a peaceful evening of curry and cards as we waited for the full tide in the morning to make our way through the Dunalley Canal and out to the east coast.

Sydney to Hobart yacht arriving on 28 December 2016

Sydney to Hobart yacht arriving on 28 December 2016