Yacht delivery - Whitsundays to Brisbane

The water whooshes against the hull as it slides through the sea. The moon is high and bright: the near full orb commands the star filled sky, illuminating the white sails. There is no other sign of life on the inky water. It’s just me and the boat. Oh, and my two travelling companions asleep down below, and quite possibly an inordinate number of Southern humpback whales migrating south with us.

Without any moonlight, the night was as black as the inside of a cat.

Such solitude on my two-hour watch: I can see the attraction for the solo circumnavigator. However, I’m not skilled (or brave) enough for that so am pleased to rely on the experience of the master and mate for this 650 nautical mile journey.

Gary and Finch - first delivered a yacht together in 2001.

Fuel, water, gas, provisions, safety gear: check. We completed preparations ahead of schedule and last month departed Bowen Boat Harbour on a flood tide. Making way is everything on a sailing vessel so no time can be wasted, even though we had 10 days to get to Brisbane. Winds were light and the sky was clear and blue as we sailed through the Whitsunday Islands, our home cruising ground. As the sun descended so too did the breeze; just as the tide turned against us. It was time to turn on the dreaded iron headsail, but thankfully for only a brief stint.

Departing Bowen on Lady Katherine, a Peterson 43 Serendipity design

Only the tide is helping us make way towards Gloucester Island

The one and only time we fly the MPS - for about an hour before sunset on the first day.

As darkness was closing in it was also time to commence the watchkeeping roster, and a routine that was to become familiar over the next few days: sleep, eat, keep watch, snack, put a fix on the chart, gaze at the sea, point out any wildlife, repeat. The crew become part of the boat and take comfort in her rhythm and familiar creaks as she glides across the Coral Sea. We sailed through the night into the next day, and another night and day, until we anchored for an evening’s rest at North West Island, east of Gladstone, to wait for the turn of the tide.  

Giving way to a BYS off the Port of Gladstone

Sunset at North West Island. There were over 20 small vessels beached on shore inside the lagoon with many campers.

Next stop, Lady Musgrave Island, a wish list destination for many years. There was no way we were sailing past it this time! We timed it well to enter the vast 1192-hectare lagoon in the southern Great Barrier Reef World Heritage Area: at low tide and during daylight hours for optimum coral visibility. I couldn’t wait to jump in for a snorkel, and wasn’t disappointed. We then dinghyed to the beach and stepped ashore (for the first time in three days) for a stroll around the 14-hectare coral cay. The island is thick with enormous Pisonia trees and the pungent smell of guano. So, this is where all the flocks of black noddy birds come to roost after flying around all day fishing.

Entering Lady Musgrave lagoon.

A silver tern checking us out

A solid night’s sleep was had by all as we, along with a dozen other vessels, anchored in the protected waters of the lagoon for the entire night. Bliss. Another stunning sunrise saw us setting off to Fraser Island, where for several hours we wouldn’t see anything on the horizon for as far as the eye could see. They say there are two types of sailors – those that get scared when they see land, and those who are scared when they don’t. I’m happy either way – it’s just a matter of getting used to it. Throughout the 12 hours of perfect broad reach sailing we saw five other vessels, one dolphin, a handful of wedgetail shearwaters and silver terns, two sea snakes and a dozen whales before dropping anchor at 2230 hours below Arch Cliff on the world’s largest sand island.

A lively sail as we departed Lady Musgrave, but the breeze soon eased for more champagne sailing conditions.

Albert the autopilot allowed us to rest up in the pit

Another sublime sunset on the water

Waking up to various buzzing sounds of outboard engines it was obvious we had arrived in civilisation – it was the weekend in Hervey Bay and the weather was perfect for boating. The wind was a little on the light side for us as we entered the Great Sandy Straits, but it did pick up enough for us to sail all the way through, navigating the channel and, much to our delight, keeping ahead of a catamaran. At one stage we were being overtaken by a trimaran, but he slowed down alongside to take photos and announce his past sailing endeavours on our boat with the previous owner. What a small world!

Moon Point, Fraser Island

It wasn't the first time that someone has come in close to tell us they have sailed on our boat in the past.

Early morning at Snout Point, Fraser Island

Before arriving at Inskip Point, we decided to anchor at Snout Point for the night and cross the bar on the correct tide during daylight hours. At lunchtime, as the line of 4WD traffic lengthened on the mainland beach waiting to cross to Fraser Island on the barge, we donned life jackets and followed the other waiting vessels through the mad mile and across the bar. With the tide against us, and the waves picking up, it was an enduring process but one we eventually came through unscathed.

Crossing the Wide Bay Bar

Time to hand steer for awhile. It doesn't look it but there was quite a swell behind us - we were travelling at about 8 knots!

This sunset off Rainbow Beach was by far the most colourful of the journey

As the sun set yet again on breaching whales and indifferent dolphins (it’s a cliché I know, but it’s true!) we settled in for our last overnight sail. We weren’t going to get it easy though. Now we were in the open ocean, no longer protected by the reef and so had a swell to contend with, and for the first time a south easterly breeze. Going into the breeze was slightly compensated by riding fast on the East Australian Current (remember Finding Nemo?) but we also had to contend with a lot more traffic and their confusing navigational lights. Is that a fishing boat with the intense white light? Is it heading towards us? Why has that Big Yacht Squasher stopped in front of me but still showing it is making way? The first hint of light brought a sigh of relief – it was a long night. A brief rest off Tangalooma saw us refreshed for the final sail into the Brisbane River. Although tired, spirits were lifted as we took in all the sights and sounds of a big city – past the Port of Brisbane, with a pod of dolphins, and under the Gateway Bridge, pointing out familiar landmarks as we made way on the tide to our destination at Kangaroo Point with a front row seat view of the Story Bridge. 

We made it. Seven nights and eight days – it was a trip of a lifetime. When can we do it again?

Entering the Port of Brisbane 

Making our way under the on the incoming tide up the Brisbane River

Alongside expensive Dockside Marina, and rather bouncy when the river cats speed by!
Conveniently close to all the action though.