Monthly Archives: December 2016

We dressed ship with our country flags for New Year’s. 

We tidied up Escape Velocity and stowed everything that tends to fly across the room when we’re underway in bumpy water and motored out of Blackwattle Bay for the first time since we arrived in Sydney, our destination the Taronga Zoo on the other side of the harbour bridge. Athol Bay is one of the preferred places to watch the legendary New Year’s Eve fireworks so we were eager to check it out and claim a spot before the crowds showed up. Plus we wanted to visit the zoo. We were rewarded with a rolly anchorage from the constant ferry traffic and a spectacular harbour sunset view. 

There’s no dinghy dock for the zoo so we had to do a wet landing on a tiny beach, a first for Nancy and Dave, then haul the heavy beast up beyond the tide line. The zoo is built on a steep hill and the best way to enjoy it is to take a cable car to the top, then work your way down. 

We’re not really zoo people, preferring to see wildlife in its natural habitat, but the unique setting of this zoo and being able to see close up some of the animals that only exist in Australia made it a fun visit. 

There were lots of old favorites who were used to posing for the crowds. 

We were advised not to miss the bird show so we arranged our day to take advantage of the presentation closest to lunchtime and grabbed some sandwiches and drinks and took seats in one of the best amphitheatres I’ve ever been in. What a view!

The birdman was knowledgeable and entertaining and we loved seeing the birds up close. 

It was an sweltering day, the kind Sydney is famous for and we looked forward to getting back to Escape Velocity hoping for a bit of breeze. We could see that more and more boats were moving into the anchorage for the fireworks the next night. 

When we got to the beach we discovered we’d been swamped by the incoming tide. Nearby party boats had rescued the dink and pulled it further up the beach but it was full of water and sand. Welcome to cruising, Nancy and Dave! We got back to Escape Velocity wet and sandy and needed a hose down, but we were once again rewarded by a beautiful harbour view. It never gets old. 

One of the big events that makes Sydney a sailor’s dream destination is the Sydney-Hobart yacht race that starts on Boxing Day and ends an unbelievably short time later in Tasmania over a stretch of water that’s not for the faint of heart. We weren’t sure Nancy and Dave were up for it but there’s no way we were going to miss the start in Sydney Harbour. The problem was finding where the starting line would be and how to get to a good spot to take in all the prestart maneuvers of these big beatiful speed machines. We asked around, we checked on Google, we consulted any source we could find but in the end took a stab in the dark and ferried to one of the recommended spots. 

We got to our designated overlook only to find it empty — bad sign — and only in sight of the stream of spectator boats heading out of view. This clearly would not do. I corralled us onto a nearby bus and back to a main road for a connecting bus further out in the harbour but the transit system was on the holiday schedule and the clock kept ticking towards the start time with no way to get to a better vantage point. 

Dave flagged down a taxi and as soon as we told the driver we wanted to see the race start he took off with a plan to get us where we needed to go. And it was perfect. 

The boats are big and fast and the water was packed with spectator boats of all kinds. We would love to have been on the water but you couldn’t beat the view we had up on the hill. 

As fun as it was to watch live from the shoreline, it’s exciting to watch the TV coverage, too. Here’s a link to the full program and if you want to skip to the crazy bits, scoot forward to about 20 minutes in.

 We had two very generous and tempting invitations to Christmas festivities with friends but decided instead to make it a family day aboard Escape Velocity anchored in Blackwattle Bay with a view of the Sydney skyline. It’s been two years since we’ve been with my sister and brother-in-law and many years since we spent Christmas with them, as we lived far apart when we were landbased. Since we moved aboard in 2012 Christmas has sometimes been a lonely day but we keep up our traditions of cinnamon buns and curry and samosas for dinner to help us feel connected no matter where we are. 

We awoke to perfect weather and between bouts of cooking we went ashore for a walk around the point at Blackwattle Bay. 

We came across this group of friends playing cricket, a game that fascinates and confounds us. Some day we hope to watch a match in the company of someone who could explain it all to us, perhaps Mark of Macushla, who used to entertain us with incomprehensible dissertations on the finer points. On Christmas we were left to try and figure it out on our own. 

Many years ago Jack and I went gift free for the holidays. It took all the stress of shopping and spending out of the season because in the end our time spent with loved ones making memories is the only gift we ever want anyway. Despite missing the rest of our family — and snow — we count this as one of our most memorable Christmases ever.

We printed out a walking tour guide from a website and took the bus downtown for a day of Sydney history. We hooked up with Nancy and Dave and our friend Wendy who’s a historian, so combined with our walking guide we learned additional stories about the early days of European settlement of Sydney along the way. 

We chose a day when a craft and foodie market was operating and we enjoyed browsing the artists’ booths and bought lunch from the various food vendors. 
 

The Rocks are literal rocks and early settlers built their dwellings into the steep cliffs. Most of it’s gone now, but there’s one area that’s preserved as a small historic park. Rather than do a reconstruction or mock up, the foundations were left as is with the addition of steel silhouette furnishings to aid the imagination in visualizing what it was like to live here. 

When we’d exhausted the walking tour we headed for the famous Sydney Harbour bridge walk. 

Uh, no. Luckily you can also just walk across the bridge and get the same views, if a little closer to earth. It was a chilly, windy, overcast day but still, any view of Sydney Harbour is a treat for the eyes. No matter where we are around the city, the view never gets old. 

We ended our walking tour with a cold one at the oldest pub in Sydney, the Fortune of War, 1828. 

These days the holidays take us by surprise, especially since we’re far removed from the familiar run-up that begins with Halloween and takes us through Thanksgiving, Hanukkah and Christmas all the way to New Year’s. We’ve been programmed by years of living at 40 degrees north latitude to start anticipating the season when the sky becomes crystalline blue and the days get shorter and the first frost of late September turns the leaves persimmon and apricot and honey. When we lived in Pittsburgh the advent of autumn triggered the nesting instinct and a chilly day might find a pot of chowder simmering on the stove, maybe a fire in the chimenea to gather around at dusk, hands warmed by mugs of hot mulled cider. Meals were planned around roasted root vegetables, chestnuts and freshly baked bread. The holidays were synonymous with snow and sweaters and warm wool socks and the oven getting a serious workout. 

This is our fourth holiday season in warm weather, our second in the upside down world of the Southern Hemisphere. You’d think we’d be used to it by now, but old habits die hard and we’re still surprised when we see Christmas trees and red-suited Santas while we’re wearing shorts and sandals.

At the shops we ooh and ahh over the peaches and berries and asparagus but my instincts are to look for butternut squash and parsnips and clementines. Those are all available — in fact I can’t think of a thing that isn’t available here in Sydney — but I have a hard time associating roasted root vegetables with summer heat. More often than not we go for the peaches and berries, and last year in New Zealand we succumbed to a months-long indulgence in corn on the cob, the first we’d had in years.

Still, we aren’t completely adjusted to a summery Christmas and Hanukkah season and standing over a hot stove for an hour frying up the latkes isn’t much fun in the heat but we’re getting over it. 

Jack and I took the bus to central Sydney to save our legs for touring and the four of us started at the New South Wales State Library. It’s a beautiful space and busy, which made my librarian sister happy. 

Nancy and I took a few minutes to make poppies to add to the ANZAC memorial installation while the men waited patiently.  

And Nancy exercised her card catalog chops just to keep in practice. 

It was after we walked to the pedestrian mall and joined the holiday shopping crowd and heard the Salvation Army band that it hit me. It’s Christmas! 

Here’s Jack starting on his Christmas list. 

Can’t say it enough: I love having my family here!

On our first full day in Sydney we walked into the Central Business District (CBD) to meet up with Nancy and Dave at their hotel. It was a long walk and we needed a bit of a sit down before starting our tourist romp. You know us by now; we never turn down a cafe.

Once we were recaffeinated Nancy and Dave lead us to Circular Quay and we experienced from land the magnificent world-renowned waterfront that brought tears to my eyes when we entered the harbor the day before. I was still in a state of wonder that we had sailed to this distant city all by ourselves. Every once in a while the enormity of our accomplishment hits us and on this day the feeling was front and center. It was icing on the cake that my family are here with us too. 

From the Opera House and Writer’s Walk we moved on to the Botanical Garden just enjoying the beautiful weather and each other’s company. 

Nancy and Dave will stay another few days in their CBD hotel while we head back to EV in Blackwattle Bay. That evening an explosion sent us running out to the cockpit to find fireworks at Darling Harbor just over the tops of the buildings along the waterfront. It turns out there will be fireworks every night until Christmas. Could it get any better? We LOVE Sydney!

Never sail against a deadline, they say. It’s folly to try to coordinate weather and plane timetables and vacation schedules. And so we didn’t. But that meant we were cooling our heels in Coffs Harbour when my sister and brother-in-law arrived in Sydney in early December. It’s been two years since we’ve seen any family at all, but it’s not for lack of trying. Nancy and Dave were scheduled to visit last year in New Zealand but unexpected circumstances scuttled that idea at the last minute, and while we completely understood and sympathized, we were mightily disappointed. We are very low-budget cruisers and our bank account doesn’t allow for the cost of flying back to the states every year as many people do, especially from this distance. 

This year we hoped for a full-on family reunion with not just Nancy and Dave but also their daughter and our son and daughter-in-law. But again, it was not to be. For a variety of reasons, only my sister and brother-in-law could make it. Luckily we live in the age of skype and FaceTime and Facebook so we don’t feel completely disconnected like we would back in the days of post restante and aerograms. But a live and in-person actual visit had us nearly vibrating with anticipation. 

But there we sat in Coffs Harbour, with a rig issue that kept us from hoisting the mainsail beyond about halfway, and southerly winds that made a trip south impossible. I could feel my limited time with my sister ticking away. 

Finally we got an opening, and rather than daysail our way down the coast as most people do, we headed right out to sea for a two-day passage to Broken Bay, just north of Sydney Harbour. Along the way we navigated ourselves into the East Australian current and picked up a few knots of speed. That put us ahead of schedule and our well-planned early morning arrival turned into a midnight entrance into a strange bay without our usual double redundant chart backups. We took the easy way out and dropped the hook as soon as we turned the corner into Broken Bay to wait until morning. 

A round of phone calls with Di from Toucan during our morning coffee resulted in a convenient mooring not far from them at the head of the bay and by 2pm we were tied up and paid up and happy to finally be temporary Australians. 

Meanwhile Nancy and Dave were hosted by an old friend on the far side of Sydney more than 40 miles south so our reunion was still a few days away. Back in the day — way back — Dave came to Australia soon after college to teach high school biology for a year and he always wanted to return to see the people and places he came to know. He and Nancy were enjoying reconnecting with friends and visiting old haunts, so Jack and I spent a few days catching up with Toucan, whom we hadn’t seen since we left Fiji. 

We were also finally able to address the real reason our blogging dropped off: a dead iPad. Yes, we do have a laptop, and we do have another iPad, but the one that died was completely set up for blogging and handling photos, and unencumbered by the many navigation programs we use except for chart backups. We lost no data because I’m fanatical about redundant backups to various inhouse and cloud locations, but without my primary electronic brain I felt helpless. The nearby authorized Apple repair shop duly pronounced the iPad deceased and sent it off to Sydney for replacement. A few days later and a little lighter in the purse I had a new iPad and Jack and I parked ourselves at a comfy coffee shop to restore the backup file. And again the next day. And the next. Ninety gigabytes of data take some time to download it seems.

Wendy, Nancy and Dave’s host, offered to drive them up to Pittwater for an afternoon visit on Escape Velocity and to drop off the bags of items we’d been sending to their house for a few months. Every friend or family member of a cruiser quickly learns that visiting a  boater means schlepping many pounds of marine parts, seasonal clothing, hard-to-find treats or other needs halfway around the world. Lucky for Nancy and Dave we didn’t need any boat parts so they got off lightly, although I don’t think it seemed so to them. 

Finally, after two years and a few disappointments, my sister and I were in the same place. 

There were a lot of tears and laughter. Despite being in nearly daily contact in one form or another, nothing beats being able to hug each other and just be together. After a happy few hours we said goodbye again for a few days. They would be  moving to a hotel in downtown Sydney and we were sailing the final leg into Sydney Harbour. Finally we’ll be in the same place and then — stand back! We’re taking the city by storm! 

It’s a long walk from Coffs Harbor to the grocery store. Come to think if it, it’s a long splashy ride in Cat Nip from out in Coffs rolly anchorage into the inner harbor dinghy dock, but the saving grace is that there’s ice cream waiting at the waterfront. This marina was destroyed last year in a storm so it was a surprise to see almost everything shipshape. While trekking to the grocery store every day, we even found a nice river walk path just to break it up a little bit.

Once again we Escapees found ourselves waiting for a little decent weather. One rainy afternoon we noticed an unusual number of racy sailboats entering the harbor. Soon we were surrounded by sailboats, maneuvering all around us. Turns out we were being used as a start marker for a sailboat race. Fun but scary.

Finally, on an overcast rainy morning we left Coffs Harbor for Broken Bay, just north of Sydney a couple hundred miles away. 

Thinking back on it, what I picture about Coffs Harbor is 100 percent cloud cover with rain and no desire to even try to leave the boat. At least it wasn’t a Friday but the seas were still nasty and our mainsail woes are still with us. We made landfall in another patented Escape Velocity midnight arrival after two days mostly motor sailing. We tucked in behind something the Aussies call Barren Joey Head just around back of an old lighthouse high above on the headland, to wait for morning. 

We’re down one iPad already and our trusty old C-80 Raymarine chart plotter has a failing screen and it has decided that it would rather not have to read the Australian chart so what you get is a collection of trapezoid shaped land masses under what can only be called a blurry stained looking screen with some blank spots. This leaves us with our old iPad 2 holding up things navigational and doing double duty with Marce’s heavy domestic needs as well. 

In the morning, coffee in hand, I went out into the cockpit to see where we were. When you anchor in the dark it’s always a surprise to see where you ended up and I’m not suggesting that you ever do anything this stupid but it’s kind of the only good thing about entering a harbor and anchoring in the dark. It was right about then that I noticed a cute motorboat heading straight toward us. Turns out it was our old friend Sherm whom we first met in Opua, New Zealand. What are the odds? Turns out Sherm and his wife live here in Pittwater and they were half of our official welcoming committee. 

The other half of our welcome crew, Di and Bruce of Toucan, finagled a mooring for us about an hour up the bay. Things may be looking up. Pittwater is really beautiful and we slid past what seemed like several thousand sailboats, tied up to our mooring ball, and paid the man. 

Heron Cove has several redeeming features beside excellent protection from weather, our mooring, and a sand spit that uncovers every day where people sun bathe and play with their dogs. Now, I don’t know who invented the thong bathing suit, if you can call it a suit, but it sure is popular down here with the young women who compete for the tiniest version. Yep, things are looking up.

Bruce on Toucan found a replacement C-80 chart plotter for a song. Things are really looking up. After a round or two of nautical holiday get togethers with the Toucs, and a long-awaited family reunion on Escape Velocity even the weather seemed like it was calming down out in the ocean and it was time to make the final dash to Sydney. 

This time we left bathed in sunshine for a change, saying goodbye to Toucan who armed us with an Aussie study guide, and motor-sailed south. 

The used but nearly new chart plotter worked perfectly with bright, bold, and clear colors on the screen. What a difference! Bouncy but benign by Pacific standards the sea showed us a little mercy and we even timed the 20 mile trip to arrive in the daylight for a change. I say 20 miles from Barren Joey Headland to North Headland but anchor to anchor it was about 30 miles. The last five miles is where this story lies.

As we rounded North Head — is there a more famous headland? — the wind picked up considerably and we decided to douse the jib knowing that maneuverability would be paramount in Sydney’s crowded harbor. Right away a half dozen Hobart super maxi racing sleds and a few of Sydney’s famous ferries were apparently sent out to greet us. We instinctively went into New York Harbor mode, which has served us well in the past. Marce called out threats and I played dodge-’em with little runabouts, jet skis, carbon fiber Super Maxi racing sleds, double decker ferries, pontoon patios, super yachts, kayakers, and I’m sure I’m missing a few. 

I managed to cross the traffic stream to hug Bradley’s Head and that’s when the Icons of Icons hove into view. The Sydney Harbor Bridge and Opera House. We finally made it. We still had to wind our way through a very narrow railroad swing bridge and then under the lyre-like ANZAC Bridge into a backwater anchorage called Blackwattle Bay with the skyline of Sydney laid out before us. Magnificent. 

Anchor down, drinks all around. Things are definitely looking up.

We dropped the hook just before sundown on Saturday night but we wanted to wait until Monday to clear customs, immigration and quarantine because there are hefty overtime fees for weekend or off-hour check-in. No matter, we and the boat needed a hosedown, a tidy-up and a rest before we let innocent people approach. Plus, the quarantine officers will take all our fresh produce, dairy and who knows what-all-else and we were keen to eat it. And so we did. The vegetables and Roquefort went onto two pizzas, most of the eggs became an omelet, the yams became crisps, the limes went into margaritas. By the time we worked our way through the fridge there was precious little left for the taking.

Monday morning found us again riding a bucking bronco, even though we were at anchor, as a big swell and high winds stirred up the harbor. Customs called us on the VHF around 10am and asked us to bring the boat into the marina for clearance. It wasn’t easy in the 25 knot wind but Skipper skillfully got us alongside the Q-dock without mishap and we were boarded by two officers who together would take care of Customs, Immigration and Quarantine.

As always, there was a lot of paperwork to fill out. We had our visas ready, and Jack had done a lot of the preliminary form filling, so most of the time was spent going through our stores and inspecting the timber parts of the boat for evidence of termite infestation. We passed, and we had very little of the prohibited foods left onboard so it all went very quickly. They even let us keep our hardcooked eggs and our cheese.

Getting the men off the boat turned out to be harder than getting them on, as the wind had picked up and it was blowing us away from the pier, straining the docklines. As the burlier of the two put his full force on the stern line to pull close enough to jump off he leaned hard against the port railing and *snap* broke it clean off the lower fitting. Oops. We got no apology but they did say we could file a claim against the Australian Border Force for the repair.

There are two courtesy moorings in a more protected part of the bay but they were occupied so it was back out to the bouncy anchorage for Escape Velocity, where we stayed for the rest of the day. It was just too rough to dinghy ashore. So one more day without setting foot on Aussie land, no internet access and only the hardboiled eggs and some cheese left to eat. We dug some hummus out of the freezer, made deviled eggs and opened a jar of French cornichons et voila! a Huffman Platter lunch, named for George Huffman who brought the artfully arranged combo to Escape Velocity for sundowners one night in Ponce, Puerto Rico, back in 2014. Dinner was lasagna unearthed from the freezer so no one starved. No one ever starves on EV. It might get weird, but there’s always something to eat.

Tuesday we finally got off the boat. The first stop ashore is always the rubbish bins then the chandlery for a courtesy flag. That done, we walked the mile and a half into town where we quickly found ice cream, SIM cards and groceries and just generally appreciated using our legs again and speaking English. Well, a kind of English, anyway. It’s clear we have much to learn and need to get closer to our Aussie friends for interpreter services.

The weather has us pinned here in Coffs for a few more days. My sister and brother-in-law will beat us to Sydney but we want a drama-free last 250 miles south so we’re going to sit tight and wait. Our moment will come.