We all awoke early to the alarm at 5.30am. Mummy, Nicholas and Jasmine had breakfast and grabbed their bags to the trip back to Sydney. After preparing the ship, locking all the hatches, stowing any remaining loose items etc, Daddy was ready to go. Mummy, Nicholas and Jasmine helped by casting off the lines, waved good bye and Morning Light headed off and Mummy, Nicholas and Jasmine raced for their cab into Mackay to the bus that would take them to the airport.
The weather forecast was not good. It was for 2.5-3.5m seas, wind 30 knots with a stong wind warning. This weather forecast was expected to be the same for Friday and Saturday with a slight drop in the waves to 2 - 2.5m expected on Sunday.
I put on my wet weather gear, attached my harness for safety and headed to the entrance to the Marina at Mackay. As I left the entrance to the marina I passed a loan dolphin and then hit the strong winds that were in the mid 30's and gusts hitting in the low 40's. There were steep 3 - 4m waves in the entrance to the Marina, but once past this (about 100m stretch) the waves reduced to about 2.5-3m.
The going was extremely slow and the waves were extremely close together, 5-6 seconds apart and all on the nose. The wind was howling and the yacht would rise on each wave and pound back into and through the next, the bow would dive into the front of the next wave, the wave would roll over the top of the desk and water would hit the spray dodger and bimni, before the yacht would rise and repeat the sequence within 5 seconds. It was impossible to put any sail up in such strong winds and given the direction of the wind so I was motoring (which was not unexpected). What was unexpected was how slow the going was into the rough weather. Instead of making the hoped 6 or at worse 5 knots, the yacht was averaging 2-3 knots and for some periods the speed was not even 1 knot.
Outside of Mackay is a parking lot of containerships all awaiting their turn to fill up with coal, the yacht was slowly passing through these and at one stage came abrest one of them. The wind, waves and current was so strong, it took over 20min to travel the length of the ship. It started to lead me to despair!
The original plan was to try and get as far as possible to a safe and comfortable anchorage "Port Clinton" which at 6 knots was a full day and night away (126nm). That would get the yacht into a good position for subsequent days and reduce the risk of further bad weather.
At that planned speed, there was enough fuel on board (3x20L jerry cans, 1 x 110L soft pack and 150L in the internal tank) to get all the way to Bundaberg motoring.
The trip on the way north from South Percy Island, which I planned to bypass (as it was 15nm further East from a more direct route), had taken us approx. 10 hours in relatively clear weather. By noon on the first day, having left Mackay at approx. 6.30am through the entrance to the Marina, I had travelled only 15nm (an average of slightly less than 3nm) and this was while having to increase my engine revs to the maximum cruising which used more fuel than expected. I was totally drenched. Having the covers up between the bimni and the spray dodger, created a low pressure that sucked in the engine fumes to the cockpit, and made me sick and have throbbing headaches. As a result, they were off, and the waves had drenched the cockpit. It now started to rain heavily and with the waves and rain, I was forced to shut the hatches to the cockpit. Larger waves, even with the spray dodger, would find their way down the companion way, and the deck the navigations table, dining table, chairs and stairs below were drenched. I threw a towel over them and tried my best to keep things relatively dry and shut up the hatches. The salt spray and waves were drying on my face and I had salt crystals in my hair and face. I was being thrown around and being bruised, but there was nothing I could do. The waves were so large, I was concerned about even heading back to Mackay as I didn't want to go side on if that could be avoided as some of them had breaking foam on top and if one of those hit, there was a risk of a knock down, breaking something, throwing me overboard or even a roll. I pounded on with the wind screaming in the rigging, water throwing itself over the yacht and the waves growing. By 2pm it was clear to me that I wouldn't be able to make Port Clinton, in fact, it would be doubtful I would have the fuel at this speed to make Port Clinton. I would have to try and run for South Percy Island.
It was clear to me that I would not have the fuel to reach South Percy Island with my tank which was by then down to less than 1/4 full. The speed was still barely 3 knots and I would be forced to use the spare fuel which was on deck. I had to make a decision before all the light was gone. It was too rough and too much risk to go all the way forward to connect up the fuel hose to the fuel bladder, I decided to grab 2 of the fuel cans tied to the starboard railing. I connected myself to the staboard safety jackstay with my safety harness, and also connected a second back-up to a strong point in the cockpit. The fuel cans were only 3m outside the cockpit, but with the massive movement of the yacht and waves breaking over the deck, there was a risk of going overboard. Keeping low I was able to untie and bring two of the jerry cans back into the cockpit without misshap. Now the challenge of pouring them into the fuel tank in such rough weather, pooring rain, now 40knot winds. It was tough and my hands and sleeves were coated in diesel fuel but I managed to get 40L into the tank which now read half full. I threw the empty jerry cans into the inflatable tender (a mistake I would regret later).
It was at this time I saw a strange sight, a sea snake all alone in this maelstrom. It was swimming down a wave with its head held high and I saw it turn its head and stare at me. It passed the starbord side of the yacht by less than 4m. If I had not been holding on with both hands, and had not been so surprised, perhaps I would have given it a wave and ... perhaps even a thumbs up?
By 5pm it was almost dark and I managed to duck below and turn on the navigation lights and grab a handful of dry crackers (the first opportunity to eat anything) and run back on deck.
By now the waves were hitting in many cases as short as 4 seconds apart, the yacht in some cases passed up a wave and was still on its way down when it would hit a second wave going up rather than the trough in between. The anchor would slam into the steel safety bar and the anchor chain would crash as it got airborne on every wave and send a shudder and enormous crash reverberating through the hull (like someone was hitting the yacht with a massive sledge hammer). I just hoped nothing would break. The waves now were all over 3m and when only 4-5 seconds apart, they look like walls of water towering over the yacht. They were higher than the deck, higher than the bimni, higher than the arch and some sets were above the boom by another half a metre. That is at least 4m.
It was impossible to sleep, rest, sit or lie down as you were thrown out of the seat each time the yacht went off a wave. I stood at the helm holding on and tried to thing of how good it would be to be anchored behind South Percey Island. I tried to adjust the angle of attack on the waves to reduce the time airborne, but it was impossible to stop entirely.
It was totally pitch black, there were absolutely no reference lights of any kind on the horizon and only through the glow of the navigation lights could I see any reflection or indication of the oncoming waves. Often I was trying to wipe the spray and salt from my very sore eyes in anycase.
It was one of these large sets of waves I suspect caused the damage.
We went up an extremely large wave and had an especially hard landing. Despite holding on, I was thrown into the wheel and receive (as I noticed later) a good size bruise. There was a massive crash and bang from the anchor and chain, as was the usual case, but also a loud bang like a gunshot directly behind. Something was wrong.
I picked myself up and pulled the throttle of the engine back to provide enough speed to keep the yacht into the wind and waves and looked behind be. One of the shackles holding up the tender had snapped and the tender was now holding on with the other shackle and a tye down rope I have fitted for safety and to stop the tender moving around. With great care I used a spare docking line and tied it temporarily around the davits on the arch and to the tender fitting. I then put the yacht back on course. 30min later I was staring at the tender thinking it looked different but couldn't put my finger on it and then it came to me. One of the two empty jerry cans was gone and had been thrown out of the tender. As had our bag containing everyone's snorkeling gear (fins, masks, snorkels).
This passage continued during the night and into the early hours of the morning towards South Percy Island with no let up in the wind, waves or rain. I was totally freezing, shivering, soaked through and there was little I could do. Anything I put on would be wet almost immediately.
At approx. 1.30am in the morning of Saturday 3rd of June, I sighted a faint light off the port bow through the rain and spray. It was the first sign, apart from my navigation instruments, that I was on course. I was on a small rock on the way to South Percy Island. 1hr later, I saw another light just off the port bow, which was a marker light I was expecting on North Percy Island.
At approx. 3.30am I pulled in behind South Percy Island and anchored with 6m under the keel at approx. 4am, and as close as I could dare to the beach and the island for protection. Small swells were rolling around both the East and West headlands, but it was heaven compared to what I had been through. 200m away were anchored 2 fishing vessels who were clearly riding out the storm and at the far Eastern end, near to where we had anchored on our way north, was another yacht.
I went below and tried as best as I could with a couple of towels to dry up the deck, steps, dining and navigation table. Water had leaked through the hatch and my bed was also wet. Luckily it was only the top sheets and the sheet protector. I was able to change it use some clean dry sheets. I was totally saturated even though I was in wet weather clothes and my face, hair and clothes had salt crystals over them. I threw all the clothes up onto the cockpit and had a shower before rolling into bed at approx. 4.30am.
I woke up the next morning at about 8am with the small rollers and bullets of wind gusting over the island at 30+ knots. The rain had stopped and there was only the occasional light shower. I hung up my clothes, giving them a quick rinse in fresh water as I would need to use them again. The fishing boats and the yacht were still at anchor seeking shelter from the storm raging around the island and I decided to do the same for the remainder of Saturday and head off on Sunday.
After breakfast, I checked the yacht for any further damage and tied up the tender tightly. I found no other damage or problems with the yacht. I topped off the fuel tank with the remaining jerry can which now showed just under 3/4 full.
I spent the rest of the day reading and watching a few movies before heading to bed early. I set the alarm for 6am. Fingers crossed the weather is a bit better tomorrow.
