Yamba to Newcastle        

 3^rd – 5^th Dec 2016

(This blog was not written by the master scribe Colin but the apprentice Cookie. The reason will be explained in this blog. )

After carefully studying various weather models, checking tides times and swell conditions to safely negotiate the mighty Clarence mouth we decided it was time to go. It seemed that there was no escaping the possibility of afternoon thunderstorms at this time of the year so with all other factors looking good we readied our ship for departure. The day dawned hot and sunny with light NE winds.

So after last minute provisioning and a check of the entrance conditions we returned the car and made our way out through the “Hole in the Wall. ” Once safely through the very benign Clarence Bar we pointed our bow south towards North Solitary Island and Coffs Harbour. We hoisted sails but the apparent wind was very light so once again we motored sailed just with a stabilising mainsail. Our thoughts drifted back to that horrendous night in Coffs Harbour, so grateful we survived and didn’t lose Calista. What amazing places we’ve sailed to and incredible experiences and adventures in the Pacific we have had since that wild storm 6 months ago!

 

A friendly Clarence 

We settled into our daily watch system in preparation for our night passage mindful of the old mariners saying “Never whistle at the Helm!” The clear blue skies of the morning soon gathered fluffy thickening Cumulonimbus clouds. By early afternoon the stormy clouds surrounded us and we began to feel uneasy about being out at sea in a thunderstorm. Very soon an ominous roll cloud was heading our way across a now grey and bleak ocean. We put 3 reefs in the main and donned our wet weather gear just in time as we were hit by 20-25knots of wind on the nose and driving rain. Huge mushroom shaped clouds tumbled towards us grumbling with thunder and lightning bolts arcing across the sky and striking the sea. We headed out to sea towards a less threatening horizon trying to skirt the edge of these cells. The BOM rain radar confirmed our fears that we were in for more. So concerned about every sailors worst nightmare, a lightning strike, we put the valise life raft and grab bags in the cockpit. Another squall hit us with 30 knots, driving rain and the thunder and lightning very close and very scary. Thankfully by sunset the worst of it was over and we felt very lucky to have dodged the endless bolts of lightning that flashed around us all afternoon.

 

Scary thunderstorms surround us.

Life raft and grab bags ready.

Storm cells everywhere

We motor sailed through the night for the storms had taken the wind north and left us in a 5-6 knot south westerly. News headlines revealed that these storms created havoc overnight along the coast into southern Queensland, with one person being struck by lightning. By dawn we were abeam of Smoky Cape and still motor sailing in light winds with Tim the autopilot at the helm. The forecast freshening north easterlies did not materialise so we trundled south passing familiar landmarks such as Port Macquarie, Crowdy Head and Forster –Tuncurry on sunset. We had explored the many beaches and townships along the entire NSW coastline many years ago on a wave ski surfing trip, camping in my Escort panel van. In 2010 we sailed these waters on our way to the Louisiade Archipelago in Papua New Guinea. 

The fluky wind conditions continued until midnight when finally the north easterly did arrive so we unfurled the genoa and actually sailed for a while. Fortunately Tim managed to helm and I stayed on watch most of the time. Colin’s chronic back pain made life on board very difficult and uncomfortable for him. For most of the passage particularly in the storms I sent him below to lay down as I sensed that apart from the chronic back pain he was not well. We were both running on adrenaline ...Colin due to pain and me lack of sleep! We needed to get to Newcastle and medical help! 

We were so glad to see the outline of Newcastle in the dawn light on Monday morning and make our way to the marina dodging the large ships that constantly come and go to this harbour. It had been a very difficult passage. As we secured our lines in the Newcastle Marina a south west breeze banged in up to 20-25 knots.... Good timing! Later in the day we met up with fellow cruisers, Chris & Gillie who have a lovely restored timber yacht Westwind and Martin & Cindy from Jannali who had also arrived today. The magic of the wonderful cruising life we both so love is not just the amazing places that you explore but the beautiful people that you meet.

The wonderful serendipity of the cruising life!

There is a saying “That one moment can change your life forever.”

The events that unfolded in Newcastle turned our idyllic lives and dreams into a nightmare.

We caught up with our good friend Dr John Marley and after a series of scans and tests the mystery of Colin’s ongoing back pain was revealed. His T7 vertebrae had totally collapsed and surrounding that region was a tumour caused by a cancer called Multiple Myeloma. His spine was at risk of collapse and had most likely been like it for a while. The medical team were horrified that Colin had sailed on a yacht from Vanuatu like this. We didn’t tell them he’d also been for a body surf at Yamba 4 days ago!

He was taken straight to John Hunter Hospital in an ambulance and had major back surgery to stabilise his spine with titanium rods. John and Anne Marley insisted I move in with them as they lived a ten minute walk away from the hospital. My watch was no longer at sea but beside my best friend and soul mate in hospital every day as he endured a painful and slow recovery.

After two weeks he joined me at John and Anne’s and gradually improved. We had a vey pleasant Christmas Day with the Marley’s and will be eternally grateful for their kindness and support at an extremely difficult time. Colin was well enough for us to fly home on 28^th December and begin ongoing treatment in Adelaide.

Christmas with the wonderful Marley family.

Calista was secured in the Newcastle Marina until our good friend Graham Daniels (who had delivered Calista from Mooloolaba for us 10 years ago) flew to Newcastle in February and brought her home for us.

 

"A ship in the harbour is safe but that is not what ships are built for"

Our Voyage to Vanuatu sadly ended in Newcastle but we had done it .... We threw off the bowlines and sailed to Noumea and Vanuatu !

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed

by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones that you did do.

So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbour.

Catch the trade winds in your sails.

Explore. Dream. Discover.

 Mark Twain

We did it........sailed to Champagne Beach Vanuatu !

We had sailed 5,603 nautical miles on the mighty Calista since leaving Wirrina on March 1st. 

 POSTSCRIPT

 So our lives no longer revolved around the weather and passage planning but medical appointments, rehabilitation of Colin’s spine and treatments in Adelaide.

In amongst all this we saw an Island Packet 40 for sale in Sydney and made an offer, flew to Sydney and bought her! We had admired these excellent American built cruising yachts in Noumea and had “googled “ them extensively! In which lifetime would we own a yacht of our dreams ? Now seemed like a great time considering Colin’s health.  It was a very sad day when Calista was sold as she had taken us 25,000nm on so many amazing adventures to remote and beautiful places in the past 10 years. It was akin to farewelling a trusted loyal friend.

We sailed Island Pearl to Kangaroo Island and Gulf St Vincent pinching ourselves that we owned such a beautiful yacht! Ongoing treatments only allowed us to go for a few days at a time but Colin was recovering well and we started dreaming and planning more adventures and ocean voyages .........

 

Cheers Island Pearl

Those dreams were soon to be shattered as the cancer came back at the end of 2017.  2018 was a very tough year. It seemed like, despite Colin’s amazing strength and positive outlook, the outgoing tide had more power and he slowly lost way against it . We sailed together on Island Pearl for the last time in November 2018. 

The ebbing tide took my best friend, my soul mate, my husband away on 14th February 2019.

 EBBING TIDE

 It’s time to raise the anchor 

And on the ebbing tide

Drift quietly down the river

Into the ocean wide

Don’t weep for me this voyage

Though we will hither part

Just hold me ever safely

In your loving heart

The voyage I am making

Out on the open sea

Returning to that plenum

A state of reverie

You may think of me often

Though we be apart

All the thoughts and memories

In your loving heart

One day the ebbing tide

Will gently gather you

And we will find each other

Upon this ocean too

We will be again together

Sailing ever free

Over the horizon

To the realm of memory

 

 Graham Daniels

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Scarborough (Brisbane) to Yamba
19/11/16 – 3/12/16

(Followers of this blog will have noted that after regular postings on this voyage, there have been no posts since December. This will be explained by the forthcoming Yamba to Newcastle, and Newcastle blogs.)

Returning to Scarborough Marina after the long haul across the Coral Sea was as comfortable for us as slipping into that favourite pair of runners, although we tied up with a list of “to do’s” that were essential to achieve before we turned our bows to the south, to begin the long journey home. Tasks like reprovisioning, refuelling, changing the engine oil, and the requisite filters were easy enough, but the one we shied from was what was amiss in the smallest cabin on board; the toilet, our “head”. Yes, the ship’s primary facility was failing and we could not avoid having do something about it. Repairs to the ship’s loo do not come under the romantic portion of our life out at sea.

Back at the friendly Scarborough Marina

Ship’s dunnies come in an array of styles, and for those used to the predictability of the outhouse at home the fickle nature of disposing of human extract at sea requires careful management for there are many things that can go wrong, with the commonest being visitors on board using the volumes of toilet paper that they would on shore and having sheepishly report that “there’s something wrong with the loo…..I’ve used it and it won’t flush!!”. The term “head” for the ship’s toilet dates from the great days of sail, when if the Captain, or one of his officers headed for the ship’s rail for primary relief, the Officer of the Watch would call “Heads”, for the crew to look away at that pivotal and personal moment when everyone is equal under the sun. Today in recreational vessels you can have toilets connected to hand and macerator pumps, that pulp human waste before it is pumped to a holding tank, or like most seafarers, out through the hull to the open sea. Today the “efflo-techno’s” can put in a “vacuum toilet” like those on jet planes although we have chortled about having one of these on board, and what might happen if you were seated and made a perfect seal when you pressed the button! No wonder some lone sailors will have none of these things, and prefer the lowest tech solution of all. It is called “bucket and chuck it” and needs no explanation.

On Calista we have an electric macerator pump connected to the head, and when we had it installed a handful of years ago to replace our old hand pump variety, we thought that apart from relying on 12 Volt power to make the device work, we had attained the pinnacle of black water technology. Now, however our macerator was clearly ailing, and we resolved without debate, that instead of pulling the pump apart and taking on the worst boat job of all, far better it would be to buy a new dunny and unbolt the old and bolt in the new…or almost. Even so, squeezing into the “Head” to get all this done would have tested Harry Houdini, and we were lucky that “Fletch”, a wonderfully affable bloke from the shore-side chandlery offered to come down to lend a hand, and between him and Cookie, a task that seemed daunting was soon dunnied and dusted. With my back continuing to trouble me, disturbing sleep and causing me to resort to pain medication, I had no hope of helping the cause. Typically, the wonderful Fletch would have nothing of payment for his time although when offered a carton of his favoured drop, he agreed this would be of comestible value, what with it soon coming up to Christmas and all.

Vessels heading south from Brisbane can take one of two passages on the way to Australia’s most easterly point, Byron Bay, before heading south along the New South Wales coast. The “outside” passage from Brisbane involves heading back across Moreton Bay before rounding Cape Moreton and making seaward and south along the outside of North Stradbroke Island. The admittedly “softer” or “inside” option, sees voyagers head south across Moreton Bay before joining the labyrinth of riverine passages that issue ultimately at the Gold Coast, where the Gold Coast Seaway provides an excellent passage to the open sea, provided the weather, swell and tide are favourable. We were admittedly keen to take a break from ocean swells, and having enjoyed the journey from the Gold Coast on the Main Channel, via Jacob Wells, on our northbound passage earlier in the year, we were inclined to retrace our steps this way when heading south, and as ever our intended destination and the time it would take to get there would dictate when we left our cosy nook in Scarborough.

Hence our 4.45am departure from a dark and still slumbering Scarborough Marina was due entirely to the 50 odd miles that lay before us and to the need to be passing Jacob’s Well in the Main Channel to clear the shoals that lay beyond it at the peak of the afternoon tide. The skies were leaden, dreary and a pinch threatening as we cleared the Scarborough Channel, before hoisting a double-reefed main and heading south as the light of the new day extinguished the glow from the city of Brisbane, not far away. With Mud Island drawing up off our starboard bow, even the names of features told us that the volcanoes, forested slopes and the teeming reefs of Vanuatu, lay not only far away across the eastern horizon, but on the evidence all around, they were a world away too.

On our way south to the Gold Coast

We have written a lot of the chance occurrences that we have encountered on this voyage and just then our mobile phone rang to announce yet another moment of serendipity at sea. It was Martin and Cindy from Jannali to say that they had noted us on the ship locating App Marine Traffic, and that having left Tangalooma on the western shores of Stradbroke on the same morning, they were ahead of us but also headed for the shoals of Jacob’s Well. We had last seen Jannali in mid-September off Espiritu Santo’s Champagne Bay and Elephant Island as we bore away for Lannoc Bay, and they headed north, ultimately bound for a passage across the Coral Sea, to the north of New Caledonia, bound for Bundaberg. Martin and Cindy were keen to re-connect with us, and recalling their grounding on the entrance to Santo’s Oyster Island, they asked if, considering our slightly shallower draft, we would go ahead of them across the Jacob’s shoals when we got there. We looked forward to the unexpected re-connection with Martin and Cindy and naturally, we were more than happy to try our hand on the shoals whilst they watched on from the deeper channel astern. If we could find an anchorage for us both further downstream towards the Gold Coast, there was much that we had to share.

No sign of Johnny Depp!

Leaving Moreton Bay, abeam of Russell Island the channel divides in two and the eastern or seaward Canipa Passage makes its serpentine way past Jumpinpin Bar – love the name, which means pandanas root in indigenous nomenclature – which separates North and South Stradbroke islands, before the Canipa swerves its way to the Gold Coast. The Canipa is now too shoal for yachts such as Calista, so bearing away to starboard, we found the Main Channel, between Macleay and Karragarra islands, and after giving the Karragarra Ferry due clearance as it plied its ever busy trade, we made for the main populated centres on the Channel, Steglitz and Jacob’s Well. Our arrival at Jacob’s Well was on the peak of high tide and rounding the bend just out of town we soon recognised the familiar form of Jannali, with Martin and Cindy giving us a hearty wave of welcome from the foredeck. The Radio Officer at Jacob’s Well VMR (Volunteer Marine Radio) had assured us the channel had recently been dredged in the vicinity of the shoals, and should be easily deep enough to see both of our vessels safely through.  Thus it proved to be and soon we were both on our way to Tipplers Resort Landing on South Stradbroke Island, where the very helpful VMR officer suggested we could find good depth and shelter for mooring, not far from shore. We anchored abeam of the main channel at 4.45 pm at Tipplers exactly 12 hours after leaving Scarborough, and before we settled in to one of Cookie’s sumptuous salad bars, we resolved to head ashore in the morning with Martin and Cindy, to cross South Stradbroke Island and to compare notes about our life and times out at sea.

Anchored with Jannali off Tipplers Resort

I looked forward to a restful night on anchor but with troublesome back pain in any angle of intended repose it was clear that having seen a chiropractor in Scarborough, the attempt to have careful manipulation fix the problem – like I do successfully when home – had failed. I had a fond hope that a walk on Stradbroke and maybe a swim in the surf on the ocean side would “free me up”, but once ashore at the nearby Tipplers Resort, found, instead, that a Berry Smoothie was just the thing to deflect skeletal woes. Seeing Martin and Cindy again was a second tonic and we were eager to hear of their “Coral Sea passage” skirting to the north of New Caledonia, partly because we wondered whether a path to the north of ours from Noumea to Brisbane was likely to experience more stable and therefore predictable weather patterns, should we voyage that way in the future.

A plunge in the surf on the ocean side of Stradbroke Island

It is not far from Tipplers Landing across South Stradbroke to the roar and sweep of the Coral Sea on its eastern coastline. The surf was running strongly and after a brief and circumspect plunge we strolled our way back across the island before reconvening for “sundowners” and a hearty debrief about our experiences since we last met. There was a lot to share, including Martin’s grasp of SAS Planet maps that can be downloaded with Google Earth overlays. The field of technology linked to a cruising lifestyle is forever evolving and although neither of us could be labelled marine geeks, learning about new tecno-toys is always fascinating to us both. We are always open to learning about new gadgets and programs that have the potential to make ocean voyaging easier and safer.

A very crowded Bum's Bay

From Tipplers Landing it is not far from the glitz of the Gold Coast, and as we left Tipplers in the new morning the commanding spires of the Surfer’s Strip rose prominently ahead. Marina berths are expensive in the Gold Coast waterways, but like many cruisers on a budget we were attracted to the cosy backwater dubbed “Bum’s Bay”, tucked conveniently around the corner from the Seaway, where there is room for a for a shoal of vessels to anchor out for free. Predictably, on rounding the spit into Bum’s Bay – which is really named Marine Stadium, but is never referred to in this lofty manner - we were greeted with a forest of masts belonging to a host of floating freeloaders just like ourselves. Yachts and motor cruisers were packed cheek by jowl into this delightful nook, but we were in luck, as just as we arrived, a yacht was making its way out of the anchorage, so as they raised their anchor to make way, so we dropped ours to take their place. A glance about amongst our floating companions, suggested that whilst we hoped to overnight here at most, many others had been laying there for some time, maybe waiting for some inspiration to make for somewhere else in the waterways, or, heaven forbid, for the open sea

Although many Australians, and a host of international visitors are attracted to the bright lights and hoopla of the Gold Coast, we cannot be counted amongst its devotees, and having only in recent times come from the glorious anchorages and destinations of New Caledonia and Vanuatu we were happy to grant the “strip” only a cursory visitation. We did, however, launch our duck and once ashore “bussed” our way across to Australia Fair which dominates the retail landscape on the other side of The Broadwater, in search of a few supplies and for the chance to get off our ship and stretch our legs. After only an hour or two though, Australia Fair seemed to us like most other shopping complexes: the same retail franchises in a different location and the same trudging souls wandering from shop to shop in search of the ultimate prize, the bargain of the day to take home in triumph.

That eve on Calista, we pored over online weather information hoping that the next day would bring conditions favourable for us to depart, overnight, for Yamba. We needed kindly swell conditions to exit the Seaway, fair winds on the overnight passage to Byron and beyond, and for our arrival at Yamba and the entrance to the mighty Clarence River, a swell size that would not produce breaking surf on the bar outside the river mouth. All of these features were fortuitously in place, but with summer now building apace, there was something else to consider; the threat of violent afternoon and early evening thunderstorms, along the coastal zone and extending out to sea. The forecasts for the next few days concerned us because storm warnings were already being posted, although, with fingers crossed, not yet for the very next day.

The northern NSW coastal mecca of Yamba, nestling on the mouth of the Clarence, has long been a drawcard for visitors, and has an undeniably upbeat, “touristy” feel to it, with more than enough cafes, boutiques, surf shops and golden beaches to cater for all. It is easy to be captured by the charms of Yamba, and for floating visitors like us there is a fine Marina, just out of town, that is well known for its genuinely welcoming approach to visitors and for being home, in recent years, to the celebrated voyager Kay Cottee. Just across the Clarence from Yamba and hugging the northern side of the entrance is Yama’s Blue Collar cousin, Iluka, the coastal mecca for the working class man, with nary a latte in sight. Whereas the Gold Coast has its glitzy marinas and Bum’s Bay, the entrance to the Clarence has all the mod-cons for a price at the Yamba Marina, or you can pick up a mooring on the cheap off Iluka, from where it is but a short stroll into town. Our good friends Brian and Maree, off the cruising catamaran, Urchin, had contacted us to say that they were lying cheerfully on a mooring at Iluka, and should we nose our way into the Clarence, they had a proposal that might occupy a day or two of our time; one that we might find difficult to refuse.

Safely through Southport bar

       

With all this in our calculations, we departed as planned, the next day for Yamba / Iluka, having determined a desirable time for us to arrive at the mouth of the Clarence the following day, to catch the last portion of the incoming tide; the recommended consideration for small ships entering the waterway. Martin and Cindy had, like us, seen the merits of departing at this time for Yamba, and as we exited the Seaway, the lofty towers of the Gold Coast high-rises drew up off our starboard quarter. We set a course off Southport to clear the reefs off Point Danger at the mouth of the Tweed River, and soon had “Kev” our windvane steering us under full canvas, at a sprightly seven knots in the grip of an agreeable East/Nor-Easter. Having prided ourselves for getting away in such fine style, we suddenly realised that in New South Wales it was now daylight saving time, and our estimation of the state of the tide on approach to the Clarence might be in trouble if we were not able to maintain a reasonable boat speed over the 110 nautical miles to Yamba.

By nightfall the lights of the Gold Coast were still prominent astern, before they fell away to a loom on the horizon as the wink of the iconic Byron Bay light asserted itself off our starboard bow. We were still running under wind – steering although having rounded Point Danger our path was more to starboard than earlier which brought the wind closer upon our stern, causing us to wallow in a stern – quartering sea. Those who do not sail can easily understand that a wind direction on our bow would be difficult to manage, but what is less well appreciated is that wind coming from dead astern, a direction that would in theory “push the boat along”, is difficult as well and often results in the yacht having to bear away off course so that the following wind can adequately fill the sails. As we pushed on towards Byron, with an evening repast of Cookie’s excellent vegetable pies nestling agreeably inside, there was other sea – traffic to be mindful of, apart from Jannali, an hour or so ahead, and another yacht, “inside” of us also making south. Not far out to sea steel monsters were ploughing their way up and down the eastern seaboard, and we kept a sharp eye on the horizon, and AIS detail on our chart plotter to make sure that none of them lined up with our heading off the coast.

The status of Cape Byron as Australia’s most easterly landfall has always been regarded by us with a measure of reverence, given its geographic, historic and marine significance. From out at sea there is a special feeling that somehow draws one to Cape Byron and its ever faithful light, although on Calista, as we passed our Byron “waypoint” and headed for our next “waypoint” off Ballina, we were probably more drawn to the challenge of staying on course as the wind drew around unerringly on our stern, and then showed signs of falling away to a zephyr. By 3am our sails were slatting, and we were relieved to find that by furling the headsail, engaging the motor and connecting “Tim” our autopilot, we would arrive at the entrance to the Clarence in the morning, in time to catch the last of the incoming tide.

Calm conditions at the Yamba  Iluka entrance

A gentle swell was oozing along the joint breakwaters as we approached Yamba in the early morning sun. Tho other yachts, heading south, departed the entrance as we approached, and Jannali led the way in, in conditions that were as kindly as one could hope for. Martin and Cindy, who needed to access marina facilities, made for the Yamba side of the stream, whilst we continued on abeam of Iluka where soon the unmistakeable profile of Urchin was apparent ahead with the friendly waving figures of Brian and Maree, directing us to an adjacent mooring. We were eager to re-connect with Brian and Maree and to hear of the plan that they had to entice us on a side excursion, for a day or two up the Mighty Clarence.

 Although Yamba and Iluka sit opposite each other at the mouth of the Clarence River, they are very different places in almost every respect. Yamba is upmarket, “touristy”, “browsy”, and much loved by its café and surf culture visitors; from backpackers to families to the well-heeled in their shiny vehicles and designer clobber. Iluka on the other hand is blue singlets, tinnies, holiday shacks and several gears slower than its cross-river cousin. We are very fond of both, probably because they are very different. We have visited both towns by road and by sea, and on our last foray there, by road, we happened upon the Iluka pub, the Sedgers Reef Hotel, an iconic and charismatic watering hole, bedecked with memorabilia; brag snaps of fishing conquests, natty signs highlighting human frailties and sepia pics showing how this backwater used to be. You could imagine Mick Dundee bursting through the doors and plonking a writhing croc on the bar, and no-one turning a hair! By chance, on our road trip, we happened to be at the pub on that tribal night of nights, the final of the NSW vs Queensland State of Origin Rugby League competition, the game that brings the eastern seaboard to a standstill. League devotees had flocked there by the truckload, bedecked in blue or maroon and it was six deep at the bar with pandemonium breaking loose each time a side scored. For non-aligned souls like us the ebullience and fanaticism of the crowd was infinitely more entertaining than the game itself. Later, as we spilled out into the post-game night, we wondered what it would be like to visit the pub when it was not gripped by oval ball madness, when we had some space and time to fully take in the character of one of our favourite pubs. Now, having spent some fine time with Brian and Maree on Urchin, we headed ashore to stroll into town with a view to wandering down to the pub, to make an evening booking for four marine visitors.

This time, being a sleepy Sunday, we found Iluka dormant, and with the exception of a handful of souls becalmed in the aisles at the supermarket; lethargy and sloth ruled the day. Sadly we were destined not to re-visit the pub, as a check of the latest weather for the NSW north coast, warned of severe thunderstorms that evening, and if a cell hit the area with ferocity, we really needed to be tucked in on board  and not noshing it up ashore. In the end despite some spectacular flashes and drum rolls away in the hinterland, we escaped the threatening tempest as it rumbled away to the north.

On the same road trip to Yamba / Iluka we had headed upstream along the Clarence, following the local boating guide which suggested that, for keelboats, the river was navigable all the way to the regional centre of Grafton and that along the way there were some excellent places to visit, many of which had landings constructed, especially for vessels like ours.  For us a highlight was the historic river town of Ulmarra, where having wandered down its charming main street we found the Ulmarra Hotel, perched on the bank of the Clarence, and lo and behold, an excellent pontoon with tie-up facilities, just perfect for the visiting voyager, directly below the beer garden. We had mused about what it would be like to pilot Calista up the Clarence, dine in the beer garden bistro and then by gravity, head back to our floating domicile. To us doing this would be one of those delightful things that one can do in life to put bubbles in your lemonade. Now Brian and Maree were urging us to join them for a couple of days on an excursion up the Clarence, maybe as far as Ulmarra, which lay 30plus miles upstream, just shy of Grafton. We took little cajoling to accept this invitation, and to begin preparing our ship for an entirely different voyaging experience. Maybe our “bucket list” item of visiting Ulmarra by river was about to be ticked!

We have referred to the Clarence River as The Mighty Clarence, and with very good reason. The Clarence drains a vast hinterland of over 8800 square miles, from the Great Divide to Southern Queensland, and when rain falls in quantities to the east of the divide, the Clarence can flood in spectacular fashion and is apparently a sight to behold. Frankly we’d prefer to see this from land – maybe from the beer garden of the Ulmarra Hotel!

Underway on the mighty Clarence

In the new morning we slipped from our mooring and in Urchin’s wake we slid upstream from Yamba / Iluka, plying the tidal waters of the Mighty Clarence. North from Iluka we soon found ourselves in sugar cane heaven and after an agreeable trundle upstream for an hour or two we came upon a regional Sugar Refinery with its wafting aroma of burnt toffee and just beyond it the imposing span of the Harwood Bridge, which carries National Highway One, making north and south over the river. Clearance under the Harwood Bridge means that for vessels like Urchin and Calista that wish to progress upstream, a time needs to be booked for a bridge opening that will naturally bring traffic on Highway 1 to a grinding halt. Brian had booked an opening time, and whilst we milled around in great anticipation, eventually a team of officials arrived; looking from a distance like so many hi-vis ants, to man the apparatus that via a nest of pulleys wires and cantilevers saw two immense concrete blocks creak and grind downwards whist, hey presto, a slab of counter-weighted Highway One was hoisted aloft, like magic. In no time Urchin and Calista had puttered through to the other side, and whilst the bridge span grumbled its way back into place, traffic no doubt banked up to gridlock either side of the bridge, with burly truckies sparing nothing in their assessment of yachts, yachtsmen, and the vagaries of the Harwood Bridge.

Waiting for the Harwood Bridge to open

Safely through the amazing bridge

Not far upstream of the Harwood Bridge we tied up at the river-town of Maclean, where the spick and span visitor’s pontoon lay literally within metres of the centre of town. Maclean is a mix of yesterday and today and from its bustling main thoroughfare it was a curious to look back toward the river and see two masts belonging to us, the only folk in town who had got there by river. There is something undeniably wonderful about arriving somewhere by sea – or as in this case arriving by river – a natural extension of what Ratty and Moley described as “messing about in boats”.

Rafted up next to Urchin

Storm clouds brewing over Maclean

The air over Maclean and the broader north coast lay heavy and brooding with billowing clouds that would soon begin to grumble, giving a hint of the cataclysm to come. Warnings had been posted for dangerous storm cells to impact the region and with that in mind the crews of Calista and Urchin resolved to convene later that eve over refreshments and a grilled offering, and, from the ample shelter of Urchin’s entertainment area, watch as the sound and light show unfolded. We enjoy Brian and Maree’s company and the opportunity to spend some time with these fine folk was cherished by us both. As for the storms, they were indeed spectacular, and caused some mayhem in other places to the west, although from our snug vantage point at Maclean on the Clarence, we could have easily paddled about in a wooden dinghy in striped jackets and parasols.

It is some 18nm upstream from Maclean to historic Ulmarra, and we were off at a civilised hour in the new day, keeping to the outside of bends past the locality of Lawrence where the river shoals for a time, in a section referred to locally as “the Neck”. The fine tie-up facility awaited us some 18 miles upstream at Ulmarra, not far from the regional metropolis of Grafton, and we were delighted to find that this this charming riverside town was exactly as we had found it on our road excursion, although, as with Maclean, it was infinitely better to arrive there by water. Brian and Maree joined us for a café lunch before we strolled off to investigate a couple of fascinating “Old Wares” shops and celebrated our sojourn up the Clarence at the Ulmarra Hotel with a Coopers Pale Ale, on tap, in the beer garden; as water monitors ambled their way up the river bank with nary a thought for visitors like us, just metres away. That evening as storm clouds gathered yet again, we were but a stone’s throw from the hotel Bistro, where with Brian and Maree we spent an excellent evening, with the company being a highlight and the ambience all that we could hope for.

Delightful Ulmarra Hotel

We felt a tinge of sadness farewelling Brian and Maree at Ulmarra, as the next day we needed to leave on dawn to catch the tide to the Harwood Bridge, whilst Urchin would head off upriver bound for Grafton. Our departure was set at the unkindly hour of 5am, and perhaps not unexpectedly, Brian and Maree ignored our plea of the previous eve to not get up to see us away, and there they were in the feeble light of morning casting off our lines and bidding us a hearty farewell. What fine folk are Brian and Maree off the wonderful Urchin. As morning mists gave way to the warmth of the new day we made good speed trundling down river, so good in fact that we tied up for a time again at Maclean, before casting off for our 10.30 appointment for passing under the Harwood Bridge. It seemed that in no time at all the towns of Iluka and Yamba were appearing ahead and we made this time for the Yamba Marina, on the southern side of the entrance to the Clarence, via the “Hole in the Wall”, a gap in the riverine breakwater, which leads to a circuitous channel that requires close attention after the broad expanse of the river, and is best managed in a keelboat at full tide.

Dawn mist on the Clarence 

On our Voyage to Vanuatu, we have come to expect the unexpected, as it were and this time it came courtesy of the genial Andy, dock master at Yamba Marina, who as he helped us to top up our diesel at the fuel wharf, astonished us by saying…”Calista..I know this boat, and in fact I knew Chris Fry, the guy who had her built….he came from Ulmarra”. Would you believe it! “What’s more”, he continued, “I’m sure I have a photo of her as she was originally built, up in my file of visiting boats…I’ll get it for you, and you can keep it”. When originally built, as seen in Andy’s 1990’s picture, Calista had brown stripes and bore little resemblance to the cruising appearance that she presents today, especially from the cockpit aft. We enquired about Chris Fry, believing in some hope, that 20 years or so on we might somehow connect with Calista’s original owner. Surely he would be delighted to see how she presented in 2016. Here Andy became a little sombre, saying…”I don’t know what happened to Chris Fry…he became very ill and had to sell Calista…something about a serious back complaint.” My back was painful too, and not getting better and it gave me cause to think speculatively about Calista, sore backs and Chris Fry from Ulmarra.

Our small ship in Yamba Marina

It is a normal practice of ours, once secure in a port, to head off on foot to investigate the new destination, and this time we headed into town to renew our acquaintance with Yamba, one of our favourite places on the NSW coast. In spite of my restricted gait, we ambled into town to the retail precinct, noting that the traditional surf shop up on the hill, had sadly closed its doors just a month or two earlier and from there we rounded the day by detouring to the breakwater at the mouth of the Clarence, where under a grumbly and threatening sky we examined the bar at the mouth in the outgoing tide, before heading back to our ship ere the heavens opened and it bucketed down.

As November gave way to December, this marked 10 months since we had piloted our way out of Wirrina before bearing away to port and the high seas beyond. At Yamba we pored over the latest weather updates, hoping that in a day or so, barring warnings of thunderstorms, we might head on our way south, even as far as Newcastle where we were keen to re-connect with Dr John Marley and his wife Anne, and return to them the navigational materials relating to New Caledonia and Vanuatu, that they had kindly loaned to us when we saw them last at the Newcastle Marina, an aeon ago in May. A fresh sou-easter had piped in, confining us somewhat to on-board tasks – like Cookie’s fine work in replacing the drive belt on “Tim” our wheel autopilot – causing Cookie’s observation in her diary that we had…”no swim today, too onshore and breezy! Soft!”

It is somewhat of a hike from the Marina into downtown Yamba, and given our need to undertake some reprovisioning before our departure, we hired a little Getz, a motorised shopping trolley according to Cookie, to make life a little easier in the process of getting around town, and to give us the chance to scoot about and make more of our “Yamba time” beyond Calista. The “shopping trolley” converted a mundane day into a fine one as we nimbled our way about, heading hither, yon and beyond, before capping the day with a plunge in the surf at the breakwater beach, with me hoping that the boiling brine might provide some medicinal alchemy and “free up” my back from its current state of infirmity. Sadly, it was not to be. Locals had recommended the culinary qualities of the Thai Payu Restaurant just off the main street, and with our minor omnibus, we got there easily to find the food all that we had hoped and that their BYO regime was….(SA Restaurateurs note)….no charge!

Time for a swim!

The normal cruising regime for yachts making south from Yamba, is to program in a halt in Coffs Harbor, but with the Marina there still in a ruinous state (see our June Blog re the tempest in Coffs!!), we opted to head on the long 250nm haul to Newcastle without breaking our passage. We hoped that the softer conditions forecast between other days of storm warnings would prevail and that we could make our way down the New South Wales coast in weather that was free of tempest. We had called Dr John Marley to discuss our plans and to share with him the concerns that we had about the deteriorating condition of my back. In Newcastle he had access to all the diagnostic tools that might be required, and after hearing of my symptoms his question was a simple one…”can you make it to Newcastle?”. Indeed…could we? Never had 250 of the 25,000 nautical miles that we had sailed Calista since 2007, seemed so far.