Dampier Peninsula
Cape Baskerville Wednesday June 23 - Saturday 26 50nm, 10hr sail
Beagle Bay Saturday June 26 - Tuesday 29 25nm, 5hr sail
Cape Leveque Tuesday June 29 - Wednesday June 30 40nm, 7hr sail
Beagle Bay Saturday June 26 - Tuesday 29 25nm, 5hr sail
Cape Leveque Tuesday June 29 - Wednesday June 30 40nm, 7hr sail
Wednesday we were heading north by 0730 hours, happy to leave, not Broome, but the lurching waters of the anchorage. For ten hours we had smooth sailing conditions, though to arrive at our destination before sunset Colin did assist with the motor from around 1330 hours.
Reaching Cape Baskerville at 1720 hours we dropped anchor in time to watch the sun set. Conditions remained calm into the night, but in the wee small hours the wind picked up and we were once again side-on to the waves, rolling around like a lotto ball on a Saturday night. Come to think of it, the weather has been a bit of a lottery this trip.
Thursday our plans to move further north were scuppered by the wind yet again, as it blew way stronger than predicted and the captain determined it would be better to stay on a safe anchorage rather than sail in rough seas to an anchorage that may be no better and potentially worse.
Friday was wind, waves, lurch, repeat, as we recalled our thoughts from earlier this year…
We’ll go to the Kimberley we thought. It will be warm and calm. People have said it will be a bumper season after all the rain…
Perhaps we misheard and they said “bumpy” season. Colin thinks the IOD (Indian Ocean Dipole) is to blame, creating blasting “beasterlies” when the winds are typically mild. To quote a well-used term, the weather pattern is unprecedented, a bit like the Corona Virus if you ignore the Spanish Flu in 1921.
Saturday we made a break for it and got a couple of very comfortable hours of sailing in before having to motor as the breeze died. The pick stuck fast at Beagle Bay on the first drop, and we sat in awe of the glassy conditions as the sun set, watching a shark fin flopping about on the surface of the water. Bliss at last after two weeks (!!!) without a calm day.
Sunday, after three loads of washing, we deliberated over whether to launch the dinghy or be lazy. Tough decision, but Mum and Dad had told us how much they enjoyed Beagle Bay during a 4WD holiday, so it seemed wrong not to check it out. We were glad we did as we headed towards people on the nearest outcrop of rock. We introduced ourselves, and they turned out to be local teachers and their families from the Beagle Bay community who were out for a weekend of fishing. We got some firsthand knowledge of whether the waters were crocodile infested (no, unless you’re near the mangroves), and how to catch mud crabs. Such warm, lovely people, happy to have a chat with strangers wandering into their family weekend away.
Leaving them in peace we embarked upon a long beach walk, enjoying the squishy sand, crusty tyre tracks, waves, and little birds skittering about near the water line, then we plunged into the cool water, confident we wouldn’t be rolled by an aquatic reptile. The sand was so spongy you sank in up to your ankles. I wondered if it was all the little bivalve mollusks under the surface making it so.
Back on board we had a visit from a lovely couple who were passing by on their way back from fishing. Colin quickly ran downstairs to put clothes on, and I put the kettle on (tight fit) and got out the biscuits. Rod and Donna were from New South Wales. Yachties in a previous life, they were now caravanning with friends, enjoying the ocean in a different way. They were equipped with a VHF radio but weren’t sure of the emergency channels. We told them, and made sure they knew that if they ran out of biscuits it was only a “Pan Pan” call, not a “Mayday”. It’s an emergency, but not life threatening.
Monday brought early morning rain, and lots of it. Captain Weather Goat had been studying the clouds (as weather goats do) and had thought it looked like rain, but he deferred to the official weather predictions (no chance of rain, or of the forecast being correct) and did not mention it. Hence, some soft furnishings got a little bit wet, and possibly a little bit clean. One can only hope.
The rest of the day was rock, roll, lurch, repeat, with the occasional turtle and shark sighting.
Click images to enlarge
Reaching Cape Baskerville at 1720 hours we dropped anchor in time to watch the sun set. Conditions remained calm into the night, but in the wee small hours the wind picked up and we were once again side-on to the waves, rolling around like a lotto ball on a Saturday night. Come to think of it, the weather has been a bit of a lottery this trip.
Thursday our plans to move further north were scuppered by the wind yet again, as it blew way stronger than predicted and the captain determined it would be better to stay on a safe anchorage rather than sail in rough seas to an anchorage that may be no better and potentially worse.
Friday was wind, waves, lurch, repeat, as we recalled our thoughts from earlier this year…
We’ll go to the Kimberley we thought. It will be warm and calm. People have said it will be a bumper season after all the rain…
Perhaps we misheard and they said “bumpy” season. Colin thinks the IOD (Indian Ocean Dipole) is to blame, creating blasting “beasterlies” when the winds are typically mild. To quote a well-used term, the weather pattern is unprecedented, a bit like the Corona Virus if you ignore the Spanish Flu in 1921.
Saturday we made a break for it and got a couple of very comfortable hours of sailing in before having to motor as the breeze died. The pick stuck fast at Beagle Bay on the first drop, and we sat in awe of the glassy conditions as the sun set, watching a shark fin flopping about on the surface of the water. Bliss at last after two weeks (!!!) without a calm day.
Sunday, after three loads of washing, we deliberated over whether to launch the dinghy or be lazy. Tough decision, but Mum and Dad had told us how much they enjoyed Beagle Bay during a 4WD holiday, so it seemed wrong not to check it out. We were glad we did as we headed towards people on the nearest outcrop of rock. We introduced ourselves, and they turned out to be local teachers and their families from the Beagle Bay community who were out for a weekend of fishing. We got some firsthand knowledge of whether the waters were crocodile infested (no, unless you’re near the mangroves), and how to catch mud crabs. Such warm, lovely people, happy to have a chat with strangers wandering into their family weekend away.
Leaving them in peace we embarked upon a long beach walk, enjoying the squishy sand, crusty tyre tracks, waves, and little birds skittering about near the water line, then we plunged into the cool water, confident we wouldn’t be rolled by an aquatic reptile. The sand was so spongy you sank in up to your ankles. I wondered if it was all the little bivalve mollusks under the surface making it so.
Back on board we had a visit from a lovely couple who were passing by on their way back from fishing. Colin quickly ran downstairs to put clothes on, and I put the kettle on (tight fit) and got out the biscuits. Rod and Donna were from New South Wales. Yachties in a previous life, they were now caravanning with friends, enjoying the ocean in a different way. They were equipped with a VHF radio but weren’t sure of the emergency channels. We told them, and made sure they knew that if they ran out of biscuits it was only a “Pan Pan” call, not a “Mayday”. It’s an emergency, but not life threatening.
Monday brought early morning rain, and lots of it. Captain Weather Goat had been studying the clouds (as weather goats do) and had thought it looked like rain, but he deferred to the official weather predictions (no chance of rain, or of the forecast being correct) and did not mention it. Hence, some soft furnishings got a little bit wet, and possibly a little bit clean. One can only hope.
The rest of the day was rock, roll, lurch, repeat, with the occasional turtle and shark sighting.
Click images to enlarge
Tuesday, departure was at 0615 hours, and we were anchored at Cape Leveque by 1315 hours. Calm water was clearly too much to hope for, but at least the rolling didn’t last all night and we got a decent sleep.
Click images to enlarge
Click images to enlarge