Our trusty helm taking us out of Port Davey to open ocean!

Sunday evening we picked up camp and left our beloved Bathurst harbor, setting our sights on Port Arthur. The hills of Port Davey bid us farewell as we headed for the sunset, and we turned South for the Southwest cape. Just as the sun was setting, we were greeted by a little seal leaping along with our wake. I’m sure that’s some sort of good omen! The last light disappeared, the stars assumed their positions for the night as did the crew, plodding along towards our destination.

The next morning met us with light winds, and a motor sail past the stunning sights of Cape Raoul and Mount Brown towards Port Arthur. Located on the Southeast corner of the Tasmanian peninsula, Port Arthur was once a notorious penal settlement established in 1830, where British convicts were sent to serve their sentences in harsh conditions. Today, it stands as a historic site, offering a glimpse into Australia's history through its well-preserved ruins. We anchored off the jetty outside the penitentiary ruins, and spent the morning and early afternoon appreciating all the heritage site has to offer.

After a lovely lunch in the sun on shore, we ferried ourselves back to Silver Fern and moved anchorages to one bay over, Safety Cove. We were right back to land for the afternoon, enjoying the sandy beach that borders the anchorage, swimming in clear blue water, and exploring the surrounding paths, making friends with the locals along the way. We returned to the boat for a curry feast, and an early night after the overnight sail.

While all this lovely exploration of the natural wonders of Tasmania was taking place, Silver Fern was still experiencing a ruthless string of murders onboard. Our game of Assassin was still underway, and there was no mercy being shown amongst the crew. After we bid farewell to Shien, Reinhard, Mish & John back in Bathurst, the next to fall was Stuart, taken down by Pieter with a vacuum in the engine room. It was down to Angie, Brendon and Pieter now. Angie was once again quick to the kill, ending Pieter with a cup of tea at the shrouds. The final death took us all by surprise, but most of all the victim, Brendon, who had a tube of sunscreen thrown at him upon leaving the heads, finishing him off and making Angie the ultimate assassin. To try to make amends and repair any damage she did to relationships along the way, Angie baked a batch of consultation brownies for the crew last night, and we all happily accepted her apology. Something tells me though that she’s secretly not sorry at all.

Right, back to the adventures of Safety Cove. We had an early start yesterday, hiking out to Mount Brown, and Crescent Bay from our anchorage. A few of the crew went for a swim in the shorebreak at Crescent bay, while the others got a head start on the climb up the dunes, appreciating the view from the overlooking hillside. We were back to the boat by lunch, as we had about 35 miles to put under the keel by dinner.

We made our way back up to North Bruny island to spend our final evening in the quiet anchorage close to Hobart. The sail back had another incredible view of Cape Raoul, and the cliffs and bluff that run along the Southeast peninsula of Tasmania. We had a few hours of true champagne sailing, running downwind in the protected waters in the lee of Bruny island with the afternoon sun shining down on us. We even had another go at sailing in confined spaces, tacking around the top of Bruny and right down into our anchorage, leaving the engine off as long as possible as the wind slowly tapered off.

Rob and Brendon enjoying our sail around the Cape

Anchored in Barnes Bay before sunset, we enjoyed our dinner and reflected back on the highs and lows we all experienced throughout the trip. We’ve managed to pack the last two weeks with incredible hikes, remote anchorages, cold water swims, freezing night watches, top notch sail training, endless laughter, cozy living quarters, overheating engines, too many cups of tea to count, unforgettable sunrises and sunsets, and a few things I probably can’t mention on the blog.

We’re unwillingly making our way back to Hobart now, cleaning the boat and preparing ourselves for the dreaded reintroduction back into society. I’m sure we will all be on our worst behavior at our final crew meal tonight, wreaking havoc in the streets of Hobart (never while sporting our Silver Fern crew shirts of course). This part of the trip is always bittersweet, but every time a voyage comes to an end, it’s once again confirmed that I have the best job in the world.

Cheers!

Liv

Dog Bark Road.

Eyes on the Prize!