Port Hacking
26/4/16 – 1/5/16
( Blog readers please note - by left clicking on photos you will see them full size and a photo gallery below. The same applies for previous blog posts..see blog archives below.)
The ports of greater Sydney area, of which
Port Hacking is a gem in its south, are geologically, as recent as the
internet, and addiction to coffee. Indeed, we were headed for Cronulla, where
outside one of four thousand coffee houses a sandwich board declared that we
should “save the planet – it is the only
one with coffee”.
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| Happy Birthday Colin! 26th April |
There
is evidence aplenty to suggest that about 12,000 years ago, the same rising of
the seas that cut off Tasmania from the mainland and marooned its peoples to a
life of isolation until sails appeared on the horizon, also drowned the valleys
of the Hacking, Georges, Parramatta and Hawkesbury Rivers, and in the process
created some of the world’s finest harbours and playgrounds for those who enjoy
a life afloat. Back in Bermagui, Marina Manager, Keith put it to us that to
sail on past Port Hacking to higher profile locations to the north was to miss
one of New South Wales’ finest cruising destinations. Because Port Hacking
requires some skill in working around troublesome sand bars, and managing the
tides in the process, many cruisers fail to make the most of the delights that are
to be found here. We were happy to take Keith on his word, or as he put it to
us….”would I lie to you?” So Port Hacking bound we were.
Still though, the problem of the batteries,
the regulators and the solar panels irritated us like a prickle in a sock. Every
day was compromised by this issue and it looked as though more time and money
would have to be thrown, or thrown away, at this before it was resolved. BOAT! Bring out another Thousand!, is the line
said sometimes in jest although it is not funny at all to those who have to pay
for any service labelled “Marine”. In common parlance the battery and solar
issue was doing our heads in.
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The channel into Cronulla Marina
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Whatever we yearned to do may have been one
thing, but what we had to do was to was to head for the Cronulla Marina, tucked
away at the head of Gunnamatta Bay, where another SA cruiser, Jim Shepherd had
found a local marine electrician who he could highly recommend. In the
meantime, though, we had our first significant breakthrough in our power
systems problem courtesy of Phil from Solar 4 RV’s, the Victorian company who
had supplied the panels and regulators. Phil was puzzled by our power surge
problem and provided excellent assistance as we tried to troubleshoot a number
of potential solutions. It was Phil who suggested that we start again with our
wiring connections, by disconnecting everything and then re-connecting it all
following exactly the procedure in the instruction manual. This we did, with
Phil providing expertise on the phone, a little like a station owner setting
the broken leg of a stockman over the radio via the Flying Doctor. Phil really
was outstanding, giving us his personal phone number and saying, “call me if
you get stuck, anytime over the weekend is fine”. Now, that is real after sales
service, above and beyond the norm. We did as Phil suggested and waited…. Touch
wood! The panels were making power, the regulators were regulating it and the
batteries were storing it, but not to excess. Maybe, just maybe…
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| Secure amongst the Bull Mastiffs again |
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| A sea of masts behind us in Gunnamatta Bay |
Arriving at Cronulla, via a well-marked
channel through the bar, we were concerned that here in Sydney’s southern
suburbs, we would lose the friendliness that is a hallmark of most country
destinations. Not so. The Cronulla Marina is oh so convenient and the staff was
excellent from every respect although the attraction of the marina, for us, had
not to do with the railway station, only a five minute walk away, the shops
beyond or the fine cafés and eateries that were dotted all around. Cronulla is
perched on the Cronulla Peninsula, and Gunnamatta Bay curves back into it so
that the Marina is but a short stroll from the beaches of Cronulla, North
Cronulla, Elourea and Wanda. Yes, from our boat to the surf was just a couple
of minutes across the peninsula! We were in seventh heaven!
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| Cronulla Surflifesaving Club & Pavillion, Cronulla Beach |
There are a small number of marine places
where one can park a cruising yacht within easy walking distance from the sea
and the surf. Mooloolaba is one, where at the Wharf Marina the beach in front
of the surf club is so close that when we were there in 2010, a pre-breakfast bodysurf
or long swim along the bay was a daily treat for us both. On this voyage we
have shared how at Port Fairy, especially, and at Bermagui we often left the
boat with towel across the shoulder. We should have listed Robe as well in this
category, for its proximity, although the water temperature was fiendishly
unfriendly. When not at sea cruising folk do many things, but we are never
happier than when in the ocean, taking in our daily dose of vitamin sea!
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| Laps in the Cronulla Ocean Pool ..... |
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| ...then a bodysurf at North Cronulla |
Now, as we hoped, we could add Cronulla to
the above list of surf ‘n sail destinations. Maybe we need to write a guide to
this. To our delight we found that at Cronulla, a walk through the train
station tunnel, and down the main drag had one with sand beneath the toes at
Cronulla Beach in a trice. What is more, there was a free beach pool available
for laps, an indoor heated 25m pool next to the surf club, and for some
bodysurf with some more grunt, the North Cronulla beach was only a stroll
around the headland away. If one adds a brace of fine shops for reprovisioning,
and a selection of good value eateries to provide a variation from our on-board
menu – we eat really well on board Calista
it must be stressed – then Cronulla ticked many boxes. Indeed, when the
recommended sparkie came on board to check our electronic work, and to see that
the wiring for the solar panels was linked in sympathy with our wind generator,
he gave us the much longed for thumbs up!! “You should be fine now I think”
were the magic words, “everything seems to be working well now” were what he
said, words as sweet as Tasmanian Leatherwood Honey. Could we really get on with
enjoying our voyage now? We were greatly encouraged but preferred to wait and
see before sliding the champagne into the fridge. There is old adage about not
whistling at the helm lest you bring on a storm.
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| Should have brought the surfboards ! |
Back at Bermi, Keith had stressed to us that,
even if time was pressing, no sojourn in Port Hacking was complete without
plying the waters upstream past the sand bars on the tide to South West Arm,
where, in midweek especially, solitude in a sheltered backwater of Royal
National Park was an experience not to be missed. With an afternoon high tide
scheduled for the next day we hastened to refuel and head to the shops before
departing the Marina for the South West Arm. First though, there was one other
Cronulla treat to enjoy before we slipped our lines. Surprisingly, this did not
involve hopping on a train out of Cronulla for a trundle on Sydney’s extensive
rail network, or boarding a ferry from the train at Circular Quay, or as good
friends Brian and Maree found, that the Cronulla train linked directly to the
airport, for an oh so convenient way of getting home to WA to see family. Yes
it was a ferry, but not one of Sydney
Harbour’s famous fleet, rather a unique Port Hacking vessel, that we had seen
depart and arrive every day, from no more than a stone’s throw from our stern
in the marina. M V Curranulla is a
beauty, and built in 1939, she is the oldest Australian ferry to be still
serving the route for which she was purpose built. Lovingly cared for and
resplendent in her wattle livery, she is the Grand Dame of Ferryism.
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| MV Curranulla |
A number
of times each day she departs from alongside the Cronulla Marina for the suburb
of Bundeena, across Port Hacking, alongside the Royal National Park and Jibbon
Beach where we first dropped anchor from Bermagui. Should some upwardly mobile
boffin in a remote office push for a service upgrade and putting old Curranulla out to pasture, there’d be
riots on the streets of Cronulla, for sure. Fax us; we’ll hold a banner too. The
trip to Bundeena on MV Curranulla, needs
to be written into the must-do list for visitors to Sydney, who have a nautical
pulse in their bodies. Forget the Bridge, forget the Opera House, go MV Curranulla.
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| Aboard MV Curranulla |
From Gunnamatta Bay, the passage up the
Hacking River to the South West Arm required strict adherence to the river
markers and close attention to pilotage.
On the way out of Gunnamatta Bay, if not maintaining a hawk-like watch
on the beacons and shoals, a highlight is the period river-front houses, some
of which perch up on the peninsula and have regally layered gardens spilling
down in descending contours to ancient boat houses, that give exclusive river
access. Ratty and Moley would have loved life here, messing about in boats Soon
we needed the NSW Waterways buoyage update, provided by the good marina folk to
sharpen our focus on staying afloat and not fetching up on a shoal near Lillli
Pilli and Gorgeley’s Points. In the end, the slalom course through the sand
bars was worth the effort, and as we rounded a curve in the deep waters of
South West Arm, all signs of suburbia disappeared, and surrounded by the
forests of the Royal National Park, we were in a wooded fjord of great natural
beauty. A sea eagle wheeled overhead, cast an inventorial eye in our direction
and glided to roost in a nearby tree. Keith was right, South West Arm really
need to be visited.
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| Entering South West Arm |
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| Our free accommodation at South west Arm |
A feature of this remote place, on the
doorstep of suburbia, was the voyage up the arm in our tender to reach the
Winifred Waterfall, deep in the forest. Again, only high tide provides access,
and again, careful negotiation of shallows and sandbars was the order of the
day. The creek meets the forest in an expansive pool and from there a trail
leads upstream to a fine cataract with plunge and swimming pool to boot. In our
coastal naiveté, we assumed that the falls, as remote as they seemed, were
rarely visited by man. We were wrong. At
the falls there were a number of people, none of whom had sailed from South
Australia, and chanced their arm amongst the shoals by boat and by duck to get
here. Up on the ridge there was apparently a car park, and any Thomas, Richard
or Harold, could put on their scuffs and tolerably wander down to the falls, or
so it seemed. Some, we noted, had done just that. Few however, shunned the
evidence on their Certificates of Birth as we did, by plunging in the pool,
swimming its perimeter or perching beneath the torrent, in the buffeting shower
of all time. Carrying on like a pork cutlet should not be the sole province of
the Gen Y’s or Zedders. Too much fun to be wasted on young people we figured.
And, it was too!
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| Checking out our swimming pool & spa |
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| Lovely walk through the bush to the head of the creek |
Our way back out of the Arm and back into
suburbia via the labyrinth of watercourses was uneventful, partly as we had our
track on our plotter to guide us along the way. Cookie handed me the helm, figuring
that the hard work had already been done. Abeam of Gunnamatta we cast fond
glances to port, hoping to see old Currunulla
doing her thing as only she could do.
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| Safely through the sandbars and back to civilization |
Our last eve in Port Hacking was
spent in the cosy confines of Jibbon Beach with wilderness to the south and the
murmur of a city that never sleeps to the north. Jibbon Beach is not far from
the runways of Sydney Airport that protrude into historic and industrial Botany
Bay. Sipping on an evening coffee in our cockpit, we played a game for a while
to see how many planes, we could see in surrounding skies, either leaving, or
on finals for Sydney. They were lined up like kids for free ice-creams at the
Sunday school picnic. A plane-spotter with the destination app going into
overdrive would have a field day here. Would not be a Flight Controller at
Sydney for quids. Across Bate Bay, beyond Cronulla to Cape Bally, the final
sail up to Sydney would commence. Sydney! Going through the heads! Sydney
Harbour, all the way from Wirrina in our little ship! Wow. The forecast for the
next day promised a pearler and sleep, for all the right reasons, might be
challenged by the thought of the forthcoming sail up to and into the Great
Harbour. Bringeth on the dawn.
