Hot air, homecomings and a monster fish
A night spent observing. The challenges of the previous days had slipped far off into the recesses of my memory as we left beautiful Coffs Harbour. The driving rain, 35 knot winds and confused seas, were as distant as the stars that were now guiding lights on a clear night, with a waning crescent moon. Phosphorescent trails danced in Magic Miles’ wake and Humpback Whales could be seen breaching in silhouette against the backdrop of a gun-barrel grey Tasman Sea. The wind, well there was no wind, had blown itself south and all the elements were there for the sort of idyllic transit one would expect to read about in motor-sailing blogs.
But of course this was not to be. Complacency has no place on a sailing boat. Ross, the Peter Pan of the group, who never grew up and was meant to have been married in a hot-air balloon, was definitely not full of hot air when he informed us that more smoke than normal was blowing out of our ummm exhaust. ‘Speak for yourself’, I’m sure I heard someone say, but I could easily have been mistaken, as Timmy our first class First Mate, noted larger than normal vibrations coming from the engine bay. This was cause for some concern, so a decision was made to shut the motor down and let it cool off before Timmy entered the fray to assess the situation. All observations came back positive; coolant levels good, oil levels good, transmission fluid good, temperature good, no obvious further signs of what the issue might be. After some serious conversations with minds far greater than mine, it was decided that the issue was likely to be a blocked fuel injector and we pushed on slowly into the night, alert but not alarmed, and with the phone number of a Gold Coast marine diesel mechanic, saved on speed dial.
Our night of idyllic transitting across silky smooth water, was further interrupted when our AIS system decided now was time it took a much needed holiday. As if sailing the seven seas is not enough! Now it wants some rest and relaxation. As we moved north, traffic started to flow more regularly and the challenges of using other observational tools to determine proximity to marine traffic, became a good one and the reality of our reliance on new and wonderful technologies was not lost on me.
The night became day, the dark became light, and the motoring became sailing as a 15 knot southwesterly breeze blew across the Northern NSW coastline and drove us onwards and upwards to the sunny Gold Coast. I realised very quickly that this was our first and best opportunity to put the guys to work and set the asymmetrical spinnaker. We gathered a team of sailors, who were each given their own set of instructions, and our plan became two hours of first-class sailing, as Magic Miles sprinkled a little bit of magic dust on the turquoise blue water that was trailing in her wake.
As the wind faded, the spinnaker was dropped and socked, thoughts as they often do, turn to food. Enter Jonathan our mild mannered Canadian fish whisperer. He’d been wanting to catch a fish all trip and here on the final day all our dreams came true. Jonathan with all the guile of a David Copperfield impersonator, talked a Stripey Mackerel onto his line and into the frying pan before it even knew it was there. Within five minutes, we were being presented with a plate of very fresh, cooked fish, which was devoured with gusto and as I sat there contemplating all the good things in life; a clean shower, fishing, sailing, hot air ballooning, I almost, almost fell into a very satisfied state of complacency…
Words: Skipper Jimmy Emms
