How I Stopped Worrying and Learnt to Love Biocides

We are back in Malaysia, with the breathtaking beauty of white sandy beaches and clear water of the Thai west coast becoming a memory, we launched into some hard work for the start of our cruising year ahead. Such tasks included hauling the boat out of the water and having it propped up on the hard stand for 4 days while we sanded, scraped, scrubbed and washed the bottom ahead of a new painting of antifoul (this was to become my domain while Hugh wrestled with the more technical projects on the boat). We went shopping in Kuah town, hired a car and bought three tins of antifoul paint, sanding gear (including a new grinder and orbital sander, much to Hugh’s joy) and protection equipment required for the hull work. We had a short but fun two day reunion and catch up with our friends Bill on ‘Solstice’ and Jake and Jackie on ‘Hokulea’ as they were at the end of their time in Malaysia and heading to Thailand. Some goodbyes and ‘see you down the road’ and they were off to explore a new country.

15 tonnes of EJ suspended from the Rebak Island Marina travel lift

There is something unnerving about seeing your boat hauled into the air a foot off the solid concrete ground. The boat looms above you, reaching some 25m into the sky and being meticulously driven in an enormous travel lift cradled in a soft canvas sling. The guys who did the hauling work were very experienced and do this 8 times a day in the high season, so thankfully it all went smoothly. From the hauling, to the pressure wash, to our home propped up by stilts for 4 days, the travel lift was skilfully driven around the hard stand. With a ladder lent against our starboard side, we climbed up to view our new savannah. Sailing boats to the left, sailing boats to the right and then another line behind us. We were in a new anchorage, no wind, no shade and concrete below. It was certainly a different context for living aboard a boat!

Antifouling fun under the keel

While Hugh was problem solving the dripless seal on our prop shaft that had been giving us heartburn for 4 months, I got busy being the grunt. I donned my plastic jump suit with hood, gloves, eye goggles and nose mask, and started sanding the hull of the boat in 33C of blistering sunshine. There is nothing like getting to know the underside of your boat. Through the next 4 days, I got to know every nook and problem spot, every section that attracted barnacles and all those wonderful ones that did not. I was also resembling someone just emerging from a fire disaster with black biocide antifoul paint dust covering me from head to toe.

We got to know our neighbours – Trevor and Yolanda from New Zealand aboard ‘Wanderer’ who were giving their boat a birthday by repainting the entire hull and topsides and repairing some holes that they had in the hull. Also Drew aboard ‘Lara Pinta’ who had an incident with a coral bommie and his keel had come out the worse from that incident. We also met Michael on ‘Blitz’ who was a friendly bloke with an extremely extraverted 3 year old daughter who was tirelessly interested in EVERYTHING we were doing. Once again, meeting such friendly cruisers was a wonderful part of our adventure. Throughout the days of sweat, swearing and just plain disappointment, our neighbours became our brains trust with the dripless seal drama providing a shoulder to whinge on and handy lenders of tools.

We had to do a run into Kuah town, as we needed to pick up some more boat bits, because there is always something that you forgot when doing boat projects. Thankfully our friends Jack and Zdenka on ‘Kite’ wanted to go in as well. It is a bit of a mission from the Rebak Marina as we were on an island away from the main town. So we organised to get on the 8:45am ferry and made our way to Mr Dins’ car hire (the bloke that hires cars to the cruisers and must have a booming season because he is known in cruising circles as the car man). Today we managed to get a 40 Ringgit car ($13AUD) and we had learnt from our previous trip here that a 40 Ringgit car was a risk as there was always something about it that was dodgy (like not starting, not having widow wipers that work in torrential rain or not having doors that open). Today it turned out to be windows that wouldn’t open, the rear left hand door that was falling to pieces and the air conditioning that seemed to use the entire engines capacity to push out a modicum of cool air. Nevertheless, it went and we hooned around town running into hardware stores, engine part stores, supermarkets, the booze warehouse and the necessary lunch stop for an Indian feast at our favourite hawker market. 

Hugh using his diplomacy skills with some stubborn bolts

Back to the marina and Hugh continued his ongoing battle with some prop shaft bolts that needed some persuasion to undo, they came, but not before a snapping sound which had me convinced he had just broken the propellor shaft off.

So at the end of our haul out adventure we had a hard earned thirst, but more importantly a seal that did not leak, a newly painted hull and we were all set (fingers crossed) for some more blue water adventures. A goodbye to our hard stand neighbours with thanks and wishes of fair seas for them on their return to the water and we were making our way out of the marina lagoon.

24/1/2014

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Windlass Woes

As eluded to in the previous story, our time at Koh Lipe was not quite the start to our Thailand adventure that we had hoped. With the tropical low passing through a new threat lurked in our midst, the windlass (winch that pulls up the anchor) was on the blink. As we attempted to leave Koh Lipe in search of calmer waters, the windlass failed to work. After much head scratching, 'turning it off and back on again' and concerned looks between us, Hugh pulled the anchor chain up by hand. At a weight of 2.3kgs per meter of chain and 30kg of anchor at the end, Hugh pulled up 40m of chain and the anchor in 8m of water depth (some 110kgs!). An impressive feat indeed. We relocated the boat to a mooring just a few hundred meters away to have a closer look at the windlass. Upon looking at the windlass, reading the manual and checking the electrical load, the windlass was operating fine in 16m of depth. It was puzzling indeed.

We took the boat one nautical mile north on the western side of Koh Adang, a spectacular secluded spot on the side of a national park island. Gorgeous golden sand and aqua water atop a reef splayed out in front of us, this was more like what we had envisaged. We picked up a mooring and enjoyed the picturesque scenery and swam to shore. Not yet sure how long our trip to Thailand would be, we were desperate to make the most of it. Testing the windlass again while on the mooring was a success, but doubting the functioning of the 20 year old out of production winch was haunting us.

Koh Rok Nai

The following day we sailed 40nm north to our favourite spot, Koh Rok Nai. Two national park islands (Koh Rok Nok and Koh Rok Nai) nestled together with a protected lagoon conveniently located for yachts. We picked up a mooring again and enjoyed the trip to shore, where we learned that Koh Rok Nai was the location for one of the French 'Survivor' TV series and has been living off that strange fame ever since. Thankfully due to its rather remote location at the southern end of the Andaman Sea Thai island group, it is rarely visited by the local tour operators and it was very tranquil.

After one anchoring success and picking up two more moorings, we found ourselves in one of the most visited parts of Thailand - the Phi Phi Island group. We anchored in 13m next to the boat super highway, with speed boats and longtail boats zooming past all day. It wasn't until we planned to leave the next morning that the windlass decided to give up on us and Hugh was once again on the bow pulling in 55m of chain. I went up on the bow to try and help, but after one failed whimpy attempt, I went back to my post at the wheel and Hugh continued. Once Hugh got the anchor up (to the applause of the cocktail sipping meerkats looking on from nearby boats) we made a beeline for the port town of Ao Chalong (Phuket) to work on the windlass. Trying to solve the problem of a discontinued essential piece of machinery on the boat was going to be quite the project, not one relished by us!

Dismantled windlass undergoing cleaning

It was Saturday night, scrubbing wheel cogs with diesel to remove grease atop our dining table was not what I had in mind for a fun night in. Trying to identify the issue, which seemed to be broken bearings was part one of the process. Imbibing in a sip of wine was at least a small consolation.

Sea Wolf Windlass, case opened

Part two came the next night, one quick name drop at the Phuket Cruising Yacht Club and Hugh had his contact - Mr Him, the Thai engineer who might just be able to divine some sort of solution for the windlass by machining the bearings. The week long process included many trips to Mr Him's workshop, one which saw Hugh driving a motorbike in crazy Phuket traffic with the windlass cradled between his knees, to deliver the critical carcass for further inspection. The other trips involved much sign language and looking for examples to break the language barrier.

5 days after first contact with Mr Him, we were gluing the windlass onto the deck, reconnecting the electrical system, undertaking final last checks and weighing anchor to sail off to Raileh Beach in search of that Thai paradise we were dreaming of. This was more like it! 

Raileh Beach picture perfect sunset, reward for labour

17/12/2013

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Kakadu and Darwin

Ubirr sunset

With 10 days to go until our great launch out of Australian waters, Hugh and I took a car to Kakadu for a couple of days to escape the hustle and bustle of boat preparations in Darwin. After walking through the cultural centre and watching the people standing in the water, fishing in Cahills Crossing (not minding the 'beware crocs' sign) we went to Ubirr and peered over the diverse landscape below. We were perched on a huge sandstone rock escarpment that was formed from volcanic action some billion or so years ago, towering above the savannah plain and monsoonal forest below. Our guide told stories of the Aboriginal rock art and the significance of this place to its owners. Whilst sitting in silence to listen to the birds calling each other across the plains we watched the sun set on the horizon sending brilliant colours across the land. It truly was a beautiful place, rich with thousands of years of Aboriginal history. An Aboriginal elder 'Kakadu Man' Bill Neidjie who has passed away now, had great visions for the continuation of the Kakadu stories and culture, he dreams of people from all walks of life and ethnicities telling the stories of this sacred place so that they are not lost in the sands of time. This is one reason why we are lucky enough to be able to come here and experience such an amazing wonder.

Emu roadblock

After spending a night on the Merl campground affectionately known by locals as the mozzie pit, we awoke early and made our way to Nourlangie and climbed up to see the base of another huge rock escarpment. We decided to do a walk to the Gubara rock pools and took the 15km drive on the dirt road. Halfway there we were stopped by an emu who was clearly disinterested in us passing. We managed to get lots of photos of the roadblock and his mates before they sprinted off, with their heads down, bolting into the scrub. After an hour long walk in the hot savannah, it was refreshing to reach the monsoonal forest which provided shade and an abundance of bird and spider wildlife. We were deeply disappointed to reach the mostly stagnant water of the pools and no relaxing swim after our trek was to be had. After some enthusiastic but unrewarding bushbashing and bouldering in search of a waterfall, we trudged on back through the hot savannah to the car (slightly different to the way the Aboriginals would have travelled the land).

Sunbaking

That afternoon we went on a sunset boat cruise through the Yellow Water, the West and South Alligator Rivers. Crocodiles were spotted relaxing on the shore, catching the last of the days sunshine, or patrolling the waters to see if any freebies were to be had from the boat passengers (we were advised to keep our limbs well inside the vessel). We also spotted an amazing array of bird life, with datas, kites, eagles, kingfishers and ducks a-plenty. Another amazing sunset to close our time at Kakadu.

Wangi Falls

Later that week Dad came to visit all the way from wet and cold Sydney. Thankfully Darwin put on a show, and 33C of beaming sunshine greeted him at the airport. At 7am the next morning, Dad and I met Rob our guide for our tour to Litchfield National Park. After the lack of swimming at Kakadu, Litchfield was a welcoming contrast, providing waterfalls and rock pools at every turn. We also got a snap next to some enormous termite mounds and listened to the interesting history of Darwin from our tour guide. The planner in me was very intrigued as to why this city looks so different to all other cities in Australia and why it was so dense in the city centre, with no low level housing to be spotted. The three cyclones and bombing of Darwin had virtually demolished all history of early European settlement, leaving a clean slate for high rise unit blocks to fill the city precinct. 

After a day long tour of swimming holes and lookouts over amazing waterfalls we stopped by at an old tin mine to see the harsh life that the miners here would have lived through with malarial mozzies, searing heat and humidity and the flooding rains of the wet season. The mine closed in 1951 after a particularly wet wet season and now houses bats and snakes, which is a fairly persuasive way to keep people out of the old mine shaft I think.

Dad and I returned to the boat to see the new wind generator installed and functioning and the oven fixed! I should go on holidays more often!

25/7/2013

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A Thump in the Night

It was around 2am waning gibbous moonlit night, and we were about to have our first gear failure of the trip.  

Katie was asleep down below, and I was up on deck taking in an episode of Game of Thrones (thanks Abe).  The boat was performing fairly well, however the conditions left something to be desired. We were near Smokey Cape (around 60km north of Port Macquarie), an area where the southbound east australian coastal current picks up speed to a frustrating 3 knots.  That means with the boat doing approximately 6 knots through the water we were in effect only going forward at 3kts, add to that the nasty habit of sailing boats not sailing directly into the wind, and we had progress towards the Clarence River entrance slowed a meagre 1.5 knots.

As we came around the cape there was a marked increase in the seas, with a few 3m waves seemingly appearing out of nowhere, that was the final nail in the coffin of my will to sail for the evening, so we started up the "iron spinaker" (the engine) and I furled up the staysail that we had been using on the foredeck.  Now all that we had left to do was listen to the sound of the engine and pound our way through the oncoming waves.

It was then that an apparent oversight from our rigger decided to rear it's ugly head.  Although we can't be sure, my guess is that the tensioner at the base of our inner forestay had not been correctly refitted by our rigger after some work was done on the boat in Sydney, the end result, a big metal thing dangling from the mast banging on the deck as the boat pitched.  And subsequently, a very wet Hughbie scrambling around with a head torch, harness and tether (piece of rope that keeps you attached to the boat no matter how hard you try to fall off).  It wasn't too difficult to get the thing under control and lash it back to where it should have been and the worst of it was probably over within 20 minutes.

I didn't want to go too much further without the option of putting up a staysail, so we evaluated our possible destinations. Port Macquarie was now about 80 km behind us, and Coffs Harbour was 100 km ahead.  Coffs Harbour is renown for being a very easy anchorage to enter and my rough calculations had us arriving at 9am, plus the thought of retracing such hard-won sailing steps was not appealing.  So 8 hours of motoring later we pulled into Coffs Harbour where the words of one of my cruiser friends in Woolwich echoed in my ears:  "Cruising. Otherwise known as sailing to exotic locations and fixing things".

30/4/2013

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