Houtman Abrolhos Islands
Pelsaert Group
Pelsaert Island 44NM, 7hrs
Thursday April 1 - Wednesday 7
Thursday April 1 - Wednesday 7
Thursday, at the highly unsociable hour of 0430, we awoke in order to fuel up and catch the best sailing conditions to the islands. Fortunately, the captain said there’s always time for coffee first.
The fuelling dock in the fishing boat harbour is not exactly lit up with a neon sign, and we weren’t sure we’d found it until some punk-ass cray fishing boat raced in ahead of us. They could see we were there for fuel, but they could manoeuvre that boat on a dime, plus they had significant horsepower. I’d like to say we graciously let them in ahead of us – time is money for them after all – but that’s not exactly how it went.
At least we knew we were in the right place, and once they left we pulled off a perfect docking (wind assisted), fuelled up, and departed with a perfect “spring off” (by “perfect” I mean we avoided collision with any other boats).
Out of the harbour by 0600hrs, we enjoyed a significant number of flying fish on our travels, and the next day via satellite phone this was the captain’s report back to my parents …
“Hi Anne, Col here. We had a lovely sail over, though it was a little more boisterous than I’d anticipated. It took about 5 hrs to get to the top end of the Pelsaert island group, but then another 1.5 to 2 hrs to motor down into the large lagoon we are in. We took it a bit slowly and cautiously because the electronic charts are all way out with depths. In the end it is all very clearly marked and quite easy to see anything you might hit! We have had dolphins playing all around us when we arrived, and have just been for a snorkel.
We had Hot Cross Buns for brekkie, and I am eyeing off the chocolate, but I’m told I will be crucified if I eat it before Easter Sunday!! Love Col”
The fuelling dock in the fishing boat harbour is not exactly lit up with a neon sign, and we weren’t sure we’d found it until some punk-ass cray fishing boat raced in ahead of us. They could see we were there for fuel, but they could manoeuvre that boat on a dime, plus they had significant horsepower. I’d like to say we graciously let them in ahead of us – time is money for them after all – but that’s not exactly how it went.
At least we knew we were in the right place, and once they left we pulled off a perfect docking (wind assisted), fuelled up, and departed with a perfect “spring off” (by “perfect” I mean we avoided collision with any other boats).
Out of the harbour by 0600hrs, we enjoyed a significant number of flying fish on our travels, and the next day via satellite phone this was the captain’s report back to my parents …
“Hi Anne, Col here. We had a lovely sail over, though it was a little more boisterous than I’d anticipated. It took about 5 hrs to get to the top end of the Pelsaert island group, but then another 1.5 to 2 hrs to motor down into the large lagoon we are in. We took it a bit slowly and cautiously because the electronic charts are all way out with depths. In the end it is all very clearly marked and quite easy to see anything you might hit! We have had dolphins playing all around us when we arrived, and have just been for a snorkel.
We had Hot Cross Buns for brekkie, and I am eyeing off the chocolate, but I’m told I will be crucified if I eat it before Easter Sunday!! Love Col”
The green areas are reef. The only land is yellow. Can you find it?
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It’s hard to get a sense of the immensity of the islands as so little land is above ground. I was expecting the lagoon to be the size of Thomson Bay at Rottnest, but it was a couple of miles long and almost a couple of miles wide! The Pelsaert group alone is around 12 miles across.
As we entered the lagoon a cormorant kept just ahead of us off the starboard bow, flapping along the surface then diving for food, and reappearing to do it all again. Relieved and jubilant to have finally made it to the Abrolhos, we were sat with a cold drink checking out the serenity when a dinghy approached crewed by Sue and Florrie from the catamaran “Tigress”, fellow sailors we have met on several occasions in Quindalup. The people you meet!! |
Today’s most magical experience was a pod of dolphins chasing a bait ball to the edge of the boat, and underneath to the other side. I felt like I was in a David Attenborough series… “Here, in the remote wilderness off the Western Australian coast, we can observe the rarely seen afternoon behaviour of the dolphin at play in its natural habitat. Not concerned with eating the fish, they simply round them up to instruct the calves how to hunt.” Fascinating!
We never take for granted how lucky we are to be able to sail to such exotic locations, and while watching a magical sunset we counted our blessings…
1.Living in such a stunningly beautiful state
2.The other boat owners of FatBlueSky letting us take her on such a long adventure
3.Our Premier, Saint Mark McGowan, keeping Western Australia free from COVID virus. It's a pity Tony Abbot's not Pm. He could have given him a Knighthood.
Friday, and how special it is to awake to the sound of dolphins, bobbing around with their snouts above water, clearing their blowholes and taking in air. I’ve never seen dolphins doing this, just hanging out on the surface like lounge lizards (assuming that’s what lounge lizards do. I don’t actually have one).
Another of the magical things about cruising is being able to walk upstairs directly after waking, and plunge into cool waters. I’m not saying I do this, just that I could if I wanted to. After my first cup of tea is early enough for me.
A shakedown is primarily for fixing things that go wrong, and the captain can fix most things, but this morning I was making him coffee when we smelled burning. Unaccustomed as I am to putting two and two together, it wasn’t until Colin saw the coffee pot steaming that I looked inside. I started to say ‘but the coffee hasn’t bubbled up yet…’ then realised I’d forgotten to put water in!!! The captain was NOT happy. Well, I won’t do THAT again, especially since the rubber ring melted so the whole outfit is now defunct. Oops. I reverted to the backup plunger, and we’re hoping we can find a replacement ring in Geraldton.
N.B. I shouldn’t claim I won’t do that again since I already have priors in this area.
After hot cross buns from the Rottnest Bakery for breakfast (it is good Friday after all) we launched the dinghy and set off to go snorkelling. We found a patch with some diversely shaped and vividly coloured coral. Getting back in the dinghy has always been a challenge for me. I seem to recall breaking a few ribs hoisting myself in at the beginning of our last Kimberley trip, and was keen not to repeat the experience. With Colin’s help my ribs remained intact.
Returning to the boat we came across dolphins dipping and diving, and we slowly motored in for a closer look. They seemed unaffected by the stealth dinghy approach, and in fact swam closer, ducking and weaving directly beside the boat.
Yet another luxury of cruising is the afternoon nap, after which I climbed the mast to try and get sufficient reception to complete a quick bit of internet banking. From my vantage point I could see the dolphins moving laconically through the bay, and a reef shark meandering not far from the boat. I called down to Colin but he couldn’t hear me above the motor, which was running to charge up the batteries. Someone, and it wasn’t me, must have accidentally switched off the solar panels so we were a bit low on power.
The evening was a picture-perfect glass off, and I went to sleep with the gentle sound of waves lapping on the hull.
Click images to enlarge
We never take for granted how lucky we are to be able to sail to such exotic locations, and while watching a magical sunset we counted our blessings…
1.Living in such a stunningly beautiful state
2.The other boat owners of FatBlueSky letting us take her on such a long adventure
3.Our Premier, Saint Mark McGowan, keeping Western Australia free from COVID virus. It's a pity Tony Abbot's not Pm. He could have given him a Knighthood.
Friday, and how special it is to awake to the sound of dolphins, bobbing around with their snouts above water, clearing their blowholes and taking in air. I’ve never seen dolphins doing this, just hanging out on the surface like lounge lizards (assuming that’s what lounge lizards do. I don’t actually have one).
Another of the magical things about cruising is being able to walk upstairs directly after waking, and plunge into cool waters. I’m not saying I do this, just that I could if I wanted to. After my first cup of tea is early enough for me.
A shakedown is primarily for fixing things that go wrong, and the captain can fix most things, but this morning I was making him coffee when we smelled burning. Unaccustomed as I am to putting two and two together, it wasn’t until Colin saw the coffee pot steaming that I looked inside. I started to say ‘but the coffee hasn’t bubbled up yet…’ then realised I’d forgotten to put water in!!! The captain was NOT happy. Well, I won’t do THAT again, especially since the rubber ring melted so the whole outfit is now defunct. Oops. I reverted to the backup plunger, and we’re hoping we can find a replacement ring in Geraldton.
N.B. I shouldn’t claim I won’t do that again since I already have priors in this area.
After hot cross buns from the Rottnest Bakery for breakfast (it is good Friday after all) we launched the dinghy and set off to go snorkelling. We found a patch with some diversely shaped and vividly coloured coral. Getting back in the dinghy has always been a challenge for me. I seem to recall breaking a few ribs hoisting myself in at the beginning of our last Kimberley trip, and was keen not to repeat the experience. With Colin’s help my ribs remained intact.
Returning to the boat we came across dolphins dipping and diving, and we slowly motored in for a closer look. They seemed unaffected by the stealth dinghy approach, and in fact swam closer, ducking and weaving directly beside the boat.
Yet another luxury of cruising is the afternoon nap, after which I climbed the mast to try and get sufficient reception to complete a quick bit of internet banking. From my vantage point I could see the dolphins moving laconically through the bay, and a reef shark meandering not far from the boat. I called down to Colin but he couldn’t hear me above the motor, which was running to charge up the batteries. Someone, and it wasn’t me, must have accidentally switched off the solar panels so we were a bit low on power.
The evening was a picture-perfect glass off, and I went to sleep with the gentle sound of waves lapping on the hull.
Click images to enlarge
Saturday’s sky was threatening rain, but we were determined to get to land. Heading to shore we got waylaid by a visit to Sue and Florrie on Tigress. I must say, catamarans look a lot more spacious and comfortable for cruising, but Colin maintains I’ll have to find another boyfriend if I want a Cat. He’s a monohull purist. Still, eight out of ten of the sailing vessels in the bay are Cats, so that certainly says SOMETHING for their cruising comfort!
Sue and Florrie had lots of good local tips for us, like wearing long pants to shore due to aggressive March flies. Dressed in shorts, and with the rain beginning to fall, we decided to put off the walk until tomorrow.
Next in line for “boat maintenance in exotic locations” was the water maker. Whilst filling the starboard side tank we noticed a very ‘wrong’ noise coming from the motor. Dread set in as Colin suspected he might have cooked the motor (Geraldton here we come…again) but after installing a new clutch he happened to have spare (as you do) the problem appeared fixed.
The evening entertainment was an electrical storm, with thunderclaps so loud they rattled the stanchions! The loudest clap followed the lightening by only a second and scared the daylights out of us. It makes you a tad nervous when you’re basically sitting in water on a giant conductor.
Easter Sunday
Clad in long sleeves, long pants, sneakers, socks and a frill neck hat, we took on the March flies to explore the southern end of the island. We had to trek through some bush to avoid walking in water, and to give a wide berth to a sleeping sea lion. Peaceful as he looked I was tempted to walk past him, but there was very little space and as I approached he opened one eye to look at me. I decided to go bush instead.
We cut to the outside of the lagoon at the boardwalk across the narrowest isthmus. In the spring the island becomes home to many flocks of nesting birds including Common Noddies and Wedge-Tailed Shearwaters, the latter tunnelling into the soft coral sand where they build a long burrow and lay a single egg. Towards the end of April the young have feathers enough to fly, but we were lucky enough to see them still on the island under parental guidance.
Fishing. Now there’s a sport. One might think that in a lagoon full of fish even we could catch one, but our first attempt to catch the abundant whiting that were jumping out of the water, taunting us, only landed blowies. We ventured into slightly deeper water and caught a couple of wrasse which, cooked the right way, can be a nice enough meal. Unfortunately, we didn’t cook them the right way. We chalked it up to experience and consoled ourselves with chocolate rabbits for dessert. It is Easter, after all.
Monday brought beautiful conditions, so we dinghied to shore to snorkel in a shallow area we spotted yesterday. The expanse of magnificent coral seemed to stretch for miles, with lavender, turquoise, purple and pale blue corals as far as the eye could see.
Tuesday was more than beautiful, it was a glass off. We brought the SUPs (stand up paddle boards) out of hiding and paddled over that same patch of reef, then on to the outer reef. When you see the waves pounding outside you realise how protected the lagoon is, and for that we are very grateful.
Later, with intel from Sue and Florrie who we’d paddled over to see, we dinghied out to snorkel some ship wreckage on the outer reef. Calm it may have been, but there was a rather swift current running and we had anchored a fair distance from the wreck. I managed to snorkel half way, by which time the captain was back on the boat. I drifted back to join him and we viewed the wreckage from the dinghy. We will try snorkelling it another time if we can catch it at slack tide.
Colin’s been keeping a close eye on the weather, downloading a detailed seven-day weather forecast twice daily via his “Iridium Go!” satellite modem, which is his new favourite thing. It can give up to six different weather forecast models, but he has only downloaded four, and one of those he ignores as it keeps showing a big cyclone nearby where the others don’t. It does show winds of ‘brown trousers’ strength, so it really is best not to look at it.
Joking aside, the predictions are indicating more and more that the cyclone is moving offshore, so we think we’d be safe on this mooring, which Sue and Florrie informed us is rated for 40kn winds for a 25m vessel. However, we’ve been able to secure a pen in the Geraldton Yacht Club, and from there plan to head to Perth for a few days to attend a funeral of a friend’s father. Decision made.
Click images to enlarge
Sue and Florrie had lots of good local tips for us, like wearing long pants to shore due to aggressive March flies. Dressed in shorts, and with the rain beginning to fall, we decided to put off the walk until tomorrow.
Next in line for “boat maintenance in exotic locations” was the water maker. Whilst filling the starboard side tank we noticed a very ‘wrong’ noise coming from the motor. Dread set in as Colin suspected he might have cooked the motor (Geraldton here we come…again) but after installing a new clutch he happened to have spare (as you do) the problem appeared fixed.
The evening entertainment was an electrical storm, with thunderclaps so loud they rattled the stanchions! The loudest clap followed the lightening by only a second and scared the daylights out of us. It makes you a tad nervous when you’re basically sitting in water on a giant conductor.
Easter Sunday
Clad in long sleeves, long pants, sneakers, socks and a frill neck hat, we took on the March flies to explore the southern end of the island. We had to trek through some bush to avoid walking in water, and to give a wide berth to a sleeping sea lion. Peaceful as he looked I was tempted to walk past him, but there was very little space and as I approached he opened one eye to look at me. I decided to go bush instead.
We cut to the outside of the lagoon at the boardwalk across the narrowest isthmus. In the spring the island becomes home to many flocks of nesting birds including Common Noddies and Wedge-Tailed Shearwaters, the latter tunnelling into the soft coral sand where they build a long burrow and lay a single egg. Towards the end of April the young have feathers enough to fly, but we were lucky enough to see them still on the island under parental guidance.
Fishing. Now there’s a sport. One might think that in a lagoon full of fish even we could catch one, but our first attempt to catch the abundant whiting that were jumping out of the water, taunting us, only landed blowies. We ventured into slightly deeper water and caught a couple of wrasse which, cooked the right way, can be a nice enough meal. Unfortunately, we didn’t cook them the right way. We chalked it up to experience and consoled ourselves with chocolate rabbits for dessert. It is Easter, after all.
Monday brought beautiful conditions, so we dinghied to shore to snorkel in a shallow area we spotted yesterday. The expanse of magnificent coral seemed to stretch for miles, with lavender, turquoise, purple and pale blue corals as far as the eye could see.
Tuesday was more than beautiful, it was a glass off. We brought the SUPs (stand up paddle boards) out of hiding and paddled over that same patch of reef, then on to the outer reef. When you see the waves pounding outside you realise how protected the lagoon is, and for that we are very grateful.
Later, with intel from Sue and Florrie who we’d paddled over to see, we dinghied out to snorkel some ship wreckage on the outer reef. Calm it may have been, but there was a rather swift current running and we had anchored a fair distance from the wreck. I managed to snorkel half way, by which time the captain was back on the boat. I drifted back to join him and we viewed the wreckage from the dinghy. We will try snorkelling it another time if we can catch it at slack tide.
Colin’s been keeping a close eye on the weather, downloading a detailed seven-day weather forecast twice daily via his “Iridium Go!” satellite modem, which is his new favourite thing. It can give up to six different weather forecast models, but he has only downloaded four, and one of those he ignores as it keeps showing a big cyclone nearby where the others don’t. It does show winds of ‘brown trousers’ strength, so it really is best not to look at it.
Joking aside, the predictions are indicating more and more that the cyclone is moving offshore, so we think we’d be safe on this mooring, which Sue and Florrie informed us is rated for 40kn winds for a 25m vessel. However, we’ve been able to secure a pen in the Geraldton Yacht Club, and from there plan to head to Perth for a few days to attend a funeral of a friend’s father. Decision made.
Click images to enlarge
Monday brought beautiful conditions, so we dinghied to shore to snorkel in a shallow area we spotted yesterday. The expanse of magnificent coral seemed to stretch for miles, with lavender, turquoise, purple and pale blue corals as far as the eye could see.
Tuesday was more than beautiful, it was a glass off. We brought the SUPs (stand up paddle boards) out of hiding and paddled over that same patch of reef, then on to the outer reef. When you see the waves pounding outside you realise how protected the lagoon is, and for that we are very grateful.
Later, with intel from Sue and Florrie who we’d paddled over to see, we dinghied out to snorkel some ship wreckage on the outer reef. Calm it may have been, but there was a rather swift current running and we had anchored a fair distance from the wreck. I managed to snorkel half way, by which time the captain was back on the boat. I drifted back to join him and we viewed the wreckage from the dinghy. We will try snorkelling it another time if we can catch it at slack tide.
Colin’s been keeping a close eye on the weather, downloading a detailed seven-day weather forecast twice daily via his “Iridium Go!” satellite modem, which is his new favourite thing. It can give up to six different weather forecast models, but he has only downloaded four, and one of those he ignores as it keeps showing a big cyclone nearby where the others don’t. It does show winds of ‘brown trousers’ strength, so it really is best not to look at it.
Joking aside, the predictions are indicating more and more that the cyclone is moving offshore, so we think we’d be safe on this mooring, which Sue and Florrie informed us is rated for 40kn winds for a 25m vessel. However, we’ve been able to secure a pen in the Geraldton Yacht Club, and from there plan to head to Perth for a few days to attend a funeral of a friend’s father. Decision made.
Click images to enlarge
Tuesday was more than beautiful, it was a glass off. We brought the SUPs (stand up paddle boards) out of hiding and paddled over that same patch of reef, then on to the outer reef. When you see the waves pounding outside you realise how protected the lagoon is, and for that we are very grateful.
Later, with intel from Sue and Florrie who we’d paddled over to see, we dinghied out to snorkel some ship wreckage on the outer reef. Calm it may have been, but there was a rather swift current running and we had anchored a fair distance from the wreck. I managed to snorkel half way, by which time the captain was back on the boat. I drifted back to join him and we viewed the wreckage from the dinghy. We will try snorkelling it another time if we can catch it at slack tide.
Colin’s been keeping a close eye on the weather, downloading a detailed seven-day weather forecast twice daily via his “Iridium Go!” satellite modem, which is his new favourite thing. It can give up to six different weather forecast models, but he has only downloaded four, and one of those he ignores as it keeps showing a big cyclone nearby where the others don’t. It does show winds of ‘brown trousers’ strength, so it really is best not to look at it.
Joking aside, the predictions are indicating more and more that the cyclone is moving offshore, so we think we’d be safe on this mooring, which Sue and Florrie informed us is rated for 40kn winds for a 25m vessel. However, we’ve been able to secure a pen in the Geraldton Yacht Club, and from there plan to head to Perth for a few days to attend a funeral of a friend’s father. Decision made.
Click images to enlarge