Dampier
Wednesday June 2 - Saturday 12 165nm, 33hrs
Tuesday the 25-30 knot SSE wind that had been blowing for the last two days was not forecast to ease off at all in Exmouth on the day of our departure. However, it was forecast to ease off if we got further up the coast, therein lying the problem. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, because it was definitely not going to be pleasant leaving but was the best weather window in the upcoming week to get to Dampier, we decided to bite the bullet and get ourselves a day and a half closer to Broome. We also didn’t think we had much choice because we didn’t hear back from Shannon until an hour after we left, saying she had managed to find us a pen for another ten days! Waaaaaaaaah.
Nick, the second instructor from Oceanwest’s Samsara, had kindly agreed to help us get out of the pen safely, letting off lines as we left. There was not going to be any room for errors backing out into a 25-30 knot wind. Colin, Nick and I talked through the departure plan and made sure all the lines could be let go easily, and in the end it went off without a hitch. I must admit that entering and exiting pens in strong winds are two of my least favourite things and make me very nervous, and seeing Colin reversing full steam out of the pen until he could turn the boat and gun it out of the harbour did nothing to allay my anxiety.
For the next 10 or 15 minutes we kept our fingers crossed and hoped the engine wouldn’t fail us, pushing against short sharp waves and howling winds to get through the entrance channel. Once clear we could bear away with the wind on our side, let out a small amount of jib, turn the motor off and start racing towards Dampier. Not in pleasant conditions mind you. Those wouldn’t arrive for an hour or so when we got across Exmouth Gulf, and the wind and waves began to ease. From then on we had a very pleasant sail for the rest of the day (yes, even by my standards), sailing flat and fast in ideal conditions. It turns out the forecast was right about that, but about the light easterlies in the early hours of the morning it was wrong. So very, very wrong.
The prediction was for 10-15 knots, which wouldn’t have been too bad to tack into, but the easterly (now known as a “Beasterly”, thanks to Stewart from Mad Fish) that came in around midnight was 25-30 knots and not pleasant at all. For 12 hours we had to beat into steep seas, the bow crashing over waves and often under them, with heavy spray washing over the deck. Because we were tacking the bilge wasn’t emptying (the suction hoses are in a sump in the middle of the boat, which was empty when the boat was healing) so to add to our joy we had bilge water slopping through the saloon. It’s making me laugh to write this, but I can assure you I wasn’t laughing at the time. Colin used a manoeuvre he’s been just dying to try in heavy seas and ‘heaved to’. This stopped us dead and gave us a chance to pump out the bilges. Colin was amazed at how settled the boat became, lying with the jib backed and the mainsail set with the steering wheel tied hard over. We just drifted slowly at an angle of about 50 degrees to the waves in our own calm slick, up and over the waves. I didn’t get to witness this as I was bucketing out the bilge downstairs, but unfortunately I’m pretty sure I’ll get another opportunity.
Wednesday at around 1300 hours we finally made it to Enderby Island, which is the western entrance into the commercial Dampier Port. The breeze had started to ease but we were also now coming into the relatively protected waters of the Dampier Archipelago, so our passage became much calmer. We motored rather than sailed the final 15 miles into the Hampton Boat Harbour as we were pointing directly into the wind and racing to get anchored before dark. Our final challenge, as if we needed one, was that the anchor winch remote wouldn't work. It had been underwater so many times all the connections were wet, so Colin manually dropped anchor around sunset, and we settled in for dinner and bed. Once again the captain had been extremely generous in letting me get sleep, as well as making sure I was as comfortable as possible during the passage. I’m pretty sure he fears a mutiny, and rightly so!
Click images to enlarge
Nick, the second instructor from Oceanwest’s Samsara, had kindly agreed to help us get out of the pen safely, letting off lines as we left. There was not going to be any room for errors backing out into a 25-30 knot wind. Colin, Nick and I talked through the departure plan and made sure all the lines could be let go easily, and in the end it went off without a hitch. I must admit that entering and exiting pens in strong winds are two of my least favourite things and make me very nervous, and seeing Colin reversing full steam out of the pen until he could turn the boat and gun it out of the harbour did nothing to allay my anxiety.
For the next 10 or 15 minutes we kept our fingers crossed and hoped the engine wouldn’t fail us, pushing against short sharp waves and howling winds to get through the entrance channel. Once clear we could bear away with the wind on our side, let out a small amount of jib, turn the motor off and start racing towards Dampier. Not in pleasant conditions mind you. Those wouldn’t arrive for an hour or so when we got across Exmouth Gulf, and the wind and waves began to ease. From then on we had a very pleasant sail for the rest of the day (yes, even by my standards), sailing flat and fast in ideal conditions. It turns out the forecast was right about that, but about the light easterlies in the early hours of the morning it was wrong. So very, very wrong.
The prediction was for 10-15 knots, which wouldn’t have been too bad to tack into, but the easterly (now known as a “Beasterly”, thanks to Stewart from Mad Fish) that came in around midnight was 25-30 knots and not pleasant at all. For 12 hours we had to beat into steep seas, the bow crashing over waves and often under them, with heavy spray washing over the deck. Because we were tacking the bilge wasn’t emptying (the suction hoses are in a sump in the middle of the boat, which was empty when the boat was healing) so to add to our joy we had bilge water slopping through the saloon. It’s making me laugh to write this, but I can assure you I wasn’t laughing at the time. Colin used a manoeuvre he’s been just dying to try in heavy seas and ‘heaved to’. This stopped us dead and gave us a chance to pump out the bilges. Colin was amazed at how settled the boat became, lying with the jib backed and the mainsail set with the steering wheel tied hard over. We just drifted slowly at an angle of about 50 degrees to the waves in our own calm slick, up and over the waves. I didn’t get to witness this as I was bucketing out the bilge downstairs, but unfortunately I’m pretty sure I’ll get another opportunity.
Wednesday at around 1300 hours we finally made it to Enderby Island, which is the western entrance into the commercial Dampier Port. The breeze had started to ease but we were also now coming into the relatively protected waters of the Dampier Archipelago, so our passage became much calmer. We motored rather than sailed the final 15 miles into the Hampton Boat Harbour as we were pointing directly into the wind and racing to get anchored before dark. Our final challenge, as if we needed one, was that the anchor winch remote wouldn't work. It had been underwater so many times all the connections were wet, so Colin manually dropped anchor around sunset, and we settled in for dinner and bed. Once again the captain had been extremely generous in letting me get sleep, as well as making sure I was as comfortable as possible during the passage. I’m pretty sure he fears a mutiny, and rightly so!
Click images to enlarge
Thursday and Friday were spent washing the floor mats and towels used to soak up the bilge water, and washing out the many cupboards that got wet from the numerous leaks.
Saturday and Sunday were spent fixing some of the numerous boat leaks, and finding new dry places for wet items once dried off. The whole episode of finding every day more places you didn’t think would be wet reminded me of the ‘rat encounter’ in Greece, where every day we would find something new and unexpected the rat had gnawed. That persistent and somewhat treatment-resistant rodent certainly took some getting rid of! You can read about it here…
Saturday and Sunday were spent fixing some of the numerous boat leaks, and finding new dry places for wet items once dried off. The whole episode of finding every day more places you didn’t think would be wet reminded me of the ‘rat encounter’ in Greece, where every day we would find something new and unexpected the rat had gnawed. That persistent and somewhat treatment-resistant rodent certainly took some getting rid of! You can read about it here…
Monday it’s still blowing and we still haven’t left the boat! We launched the dinghy Sunday with great intentions, but the wind didn’t ease off until after dark, and today the wind is even more boisterous, and definitely not inviting for a trip to shore, with white caps in the bay and rock and roll on the boat. Both kinds, due to having a hit from 1971 stuck in my head and needing to expose Colin to it. Have a listen, you’ll be glad you did.
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