disappointment and they disappeared soon after.
The following days the wind picked up until it was blowing a strong 40 knots downwind. Kijana carried very little sail and was handling the long swell beautifully. But the sides of the boat were dipping low, to the point where water was constantly pouring onto the decks, and occasionally making its way down the companionways. Below deck it was akin to being in a washing machine, which was putting the girls through living hell.
The girlsâ sickness had been a constant since departing Melbourne 32 days earlier. Their inability to do little more than lie in bed and eat chips and chocolate meant we werenât running at full crew capacity, and with several weeks before our arrival in Papua New Guinea, the idea of pulling into Coffs Harbour, to our west, until the weather calmed and we dried our clothes and bedding, was greeted enthusiastically by all.
We changed course and willed Kijana along the remaining 23 miles so we could arrive before dark.
The sun was dipping behind the mountains by the time we spotted the town. The harbour entrance was tricky and, as I never expected to pull in there, we didnât have the necessary charts, having to rely on one that didnât have much detailed information. Nevertheless, it was either stay out in the weather or get into the marina before dark.
As we entered the harbour a rain squall hit, making it difficult to see the rocks we knew were on either side of us. We made it into the small harbour as the light vanished behind the hills.
It was a nightmare trying to locate the marina, then, once inside, it was chaos trying to manoeuvre the boat in the small space amid the driving wind and rain. After half an hour of me screaming orders to secure the mooring lines to one side, then the other, then back again, we had one shot at coming alongside a large steel-hulled fishing boat, which was the only mooring space available.
It was extremely difficult to pull off without damaging our wooden hull, for the wind was pushing us into the fishing boat. Kijana had to be slowly steered sidewards, then reversed at the right time so the wind would push us into position. A few scratches here and there and a hoarse voice, and we were safely tied up, albeit soaking wet and hungry.
I apologised for my yelling and I knew I was forgiven by the relieved grins on everyoneâs faces. It was time to relax and get some food.
The trip so far had been uncomfortable for all of us. I was on a downer because I wanted to get to the tropics, away from the cold, wet weather. Most cruising yachts choose to stay in a marina until the season is right for travelling, then leave when the weather forecast looks good for a week. But we were in such a rush to get to Papua New Guinea to start our adventure that we were enduring appalling conditions. I decided to hang tight in Coffs Harbour until the weather eased.
The rain had stopped by the morning but the wind was still strong. Everyone had managed to get a good nightâs sleep so we decided to get stuck into the mountain of jobs that needed doing. I compiled a list of everything I thought needed doing, then asked everyone to choose a few jobs to do during the day. These included wiping the salt streaks from the wood in the cabin, washing the dishes, drying the carpet outside, tidying the sail lines, putting the binoculars and charts away, washing the deck and hull with fresh water, checking the diesel, drying the bathroom, retying and covering the sails and buying supplies.
Josh took his list of jobs and headed into town. Back home he didnât have a car, choosing to walk everywhere. I think he was glad to get off the boat and move his legs again after being cramped up for five days since we had left Port Stephens. The rest of us decided to get our jobs on board out of the way so we could go ashore too.
Some jobs needed two or three people to tackle them, but most were individual efforts. Mika and
The following days the wind picked up until it was blowing a strong 40 knots downwind. Kijana carried very little sail and was handling the long swell beautifully. But the sides of the boat were dipping low, to the point where water was constantly pouring onto the decks, and occasionally making its way down the companionways. Below deck it was akin to being in a washing machine, which was putting the girls through living hell.
The girlsâ sickness had been a constant since departing Melbourne 32 days earlier. Their inability to do little more than lie in bed and eat chips and chocolate meant we werenât running at full crew capacity, and with several weeks before our arrival in Papua New Guinea, the idea of pulling into Coffs Harbour, to our west, until the weather calmed and we dried our clothes and bedding, was greeted enthusiastically by all.
We changed course and willed Kijana along the remaining 23 miles so we could arrive before dark.
The sun was dipping behind the mountains by the time we spotted the town. The harbour entrance was tricky and, as I never expected to pull in there, we didnât have the necessary charts, having to rely on one that didnât have much detailed information. Nevertheless, it was either stay out in the weather or get into the marina before dark.
As we entered the harbour a rain squall hit, making it difficult to see the rocks we knew were on either side of us. We made it into the small harbour as the light vanished behind the hills.
It was a nightmare trying to locate the marina, then, once inside, it was chaos trying to manoeuvre the boat in the small space amid the driving wind and rain. After half an hour of me screaming orders to secure the mooring lines to one side, then the other, then back again, we had one shot at coming alongside a large steel-hulled fishing boat, which was the only mooring space available.
It was extremely difficult to pull off without damaging our wooden hull, for the wind was pushing us into the fishing boat. Kijana had to be slowly steered sidewards, then reversed at the right time so the wind would push us into position. A few scratches here and there and a hoarse voice, and we were safely tied up, albeit soaking wet and hungry.
I apologised for my yelling and I knew I was forgiven by the relieved grins on everyoneâs faces. It was time to relax and get some food.
The trip so far had been uncomfortable for all of us. I was on a downer because I wanted to get to the tropics, away from the cold, wet weather. Most cruising yachts choose to stay in a marina until the season is right for travelling, then leave when the weather forecast looks good for a week. But we were in such a rush to get to Papua New Guinea to start our adventure that we were enduring appalling conditions. I decided to hang tight in Coffs Harbour until the weather eased.
The rain had stopped by the morning but the wind was still strong. Everyone had managed to get a good nightâs sleep so we decided to get stuck into the mountain of jobs that needed doing. I compiled a list of everything I thought needed doing, then asked everyone to choose a few jobs to do during the day. These included wiping the salt streaks from the wood in the cabin, washing the dishes, drying the carpet outside, tidying the sail lines, putting the binoculars and charts away, washing the deck and hull with fresh water, checking the diesel, drying the bathroom, retying and covering the sails and buying supplies.
Josh took his list of jobs and headed into town. Back home he didnât have a car, choosing to walk everywhere. I think he was glad to get off the boat and move his legs again after being cramped up for five days since we had left Port Stephens. The rest of us decided to get our jobs on board out of the way so we could go ashore too.
Some jobs needed two or three people to tackle them, but most were individual efforts. Mika and
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