|
Anchorage |
Date
|
Position |
|
|
Lizard Is |
Thu 4 Oct |
14°39.68 S |
145°27.13 E |
|
Yonge Rf |
|
14°36.31 S |
145°36.55 E |
|
Cod Hole |
|
14°40.46 S |
145°39.52 E |
|
RR10 |
Fri 5 Oct |
14°54.31 S |
145°42.59 E |
|
RR9 |
|
15°00.02 S |
145°42.12 E |
|
RR7 |
|
15°12.95 S |
145°44.01 E |
|
RR5 |
Sat 6 Oct |
15°22.61 S |
145°46.77 E |
|
RR3 |
Sun 7 Oct |
15°29.96 S |
145°48.15 E |
|
Ruby Rf |
Mon 8 Oct |
15°44.98 S |
145°44.21 E |
|
Escape Rf |
Tue 9 Oct |
15°48.88 S |
145°48.64 E |
|
Agincourt Rf |
|
15°59.15 S |
145°48.72 E |
|
St Crispin Rf |
Wed 10 Oct |
16°05.17 S |
145°49.78 E |
|
Hope Is |
Thu 11 Oct |
16°22.90 S |
145°33.84 E |
|
Cairns |
Fri 12 Oct |
16°54.45 S |
145°47.26 E |
Finally the weather forecast is good. Seabreeze predicts a week of light south easterlies
and maybe even a northerly or two to ease my anxiety about spending a week anchored
amongst the coral. It is still a frightening thought to anchor 20 miles offshore,
amongst nothing but submerged rocks and coral. So with that thought pushed to the
back of my mind, early on the morning of the 5th October I lifted the hook from
the sandy security of Mrs Watsons Bay and headed east to the Ribbon Reefs for a
week of isolation at the edge of the Coral Sea.
I had heard that Yonge Reef, just to the north of the Cod Hole, was a good spot
but as soon as I was underway I realized I had bitten off too much for the first
day. I had planned to dive Yonge and the Cod Hole and then move south to the bottom
end of Ribbon Reef 10 for the night. But it was too much so I chopped Yonge. I hated
to pass a good dive opportunity but it was the only way I was going to get to my
destination that day and have a chance of anchoring in good daylight. Anchoring
in coral in anything other than good daylight was not something I wanted to do.
A huge mackeral jumped on the hook as I got close to the reef. I was still outside
the GBRMP no-fishing zone but about to cross the line so I headed back out while
I let the fish tire so I could haul it in. I gradually reeled it in and as it got
to about 20 m from the boat it made one last violent attempt to get away, there
was an explosion of blood and guts, and all I had on the line was a very large fish
head. A shark had got the rest.
The Code Hole was great. There is no anchoring in this area as it's a Cairns Special
Management Zone but two public moorings and several commercial moorings make it
unnecesasary. Some people from Adiamo, a super stink boat, were in the water but
they ignored me, not even returning my wave. Five minutes later I was in the water
too. The Code Hole is at the northern end of Ribbon Reef 10, the most northerly
of the Ribbon Reefs, and gets good currents flowing in from the Coral Sea. This
means great coral and every sort of life up to the big pelagics. It's a popular
spot with the recreational dive companies and the fish are used to divers and to
being fed by people. However, there are stories of fish becoming quite aggressive
during feeding frenzies here and, being alone, I wasn't game enough to try feeding
them. There were plenty of fish without needing to attract more and the Cod Hole
deserves its popularity.
I spent just one hour at the Code Hole before starting south down the inside of
Ribbon Reef 10. The wind was from the SSE at about 15 knots and I chose to motor
directly into it. Otya, a Melbourne yacht I met up with at Hope Island, were just
ahead of me and chose to tack out undersail. I got to the south end of the reef
just after 1500, a bit ahead of Otya and with plenty of time to find a good anchorage
before the sun went down. In smooth water and bright sun, with the light behind
me, the reef stood out like teeth on a barracuda. I spent a bit of time picking
amongst the reefs and bommies to find a place I was happy with, with a clear path
to the NW in case the anchor failed.
Securely anchored I ran out 50 m of chain just in case, and killed the engine. Total
isolation. Not a soul around. I would have the reef to myself once the sun went
down and the half-dozen million dollar game fishing boats still patrolling the outside
reef dissappeared. Imagine my dissapointment when, one after another, all six stink
boats headed for me and anchored in an arc within 100 m. Then another two big ones
arrived from over the horizon to complete the insult.
Next day, with the weather holding, I continued motoring south to Ribbon Reef 5.
This was another fairly long day, made less pleasant by the need to motor. Game
fishing boats trolled up and down the reef-face everywhere, most taking advantage
of the calm weather to come in close to the outside edge of the reef. I do not understand
how people can enjoy hunting or fishing for its own sake. Yes, I fish. But I take
what I need to eat and it's a secondary activity to sailing and diving. I do not
enjoy seeing fish die and I am aware of the pain, fear, death and destruction that
I cause. I didn't see one person from a stink boat get in the water. Not even for
a swim to cool off, let alone to snorkel. There was a woman on one boat, otherwise
they were all men. Why are they there? Are they there for the booze, the male bonding,
and the hemmingway rights? There is a sharpening of the senses that comes from hunting
-- the innate superiority that comes from being the hunter instead of the hunted.
Is that what they get off on? Or do they simply enjoy the killing or at least the
flagrant disregard for life that goes with catching more fish than you and your
mates can eat in a month? Even a cat only kills one bird at a time. Or is it the
mindlessness of it -- like a small boy nonchalately pulling the wings off butterflies,
unaware of his destruction?
The position of the anchorage at Ribbon Reef 5 is courtesy of Shaka (a Cairns reef
fishing boat) via several yachties. Thanks Shaka. I was expecting plenty of game
fishing boats here and was not disappointed. So I skip the next anchorage at Ribbon
Reef 3 which also came courtesy of Shaka and head for Lena Reef, past the south
end of the Ribbons.
I've used 35 l of diesel, rather a lot for a sailing boat, so I decide to sail.
Fortunately, the wind swings to the east and conditions for sailing get better.
I've also got less pressure to cover the miles, and many places to stop off. The
next leg is to Lena Reef and I tack back and forth between the outer and inner reefs,
covering several miles on each tack. The conditions are perfect and I cover the
16 miles by late afternoon, though it takes me all day to do it. Close in to the
reef the sea is flat and we rocket along. Further out and especially near reef openings,
the sea is confused and sometimes fairly substantial. However, we have enough breeze
to power through the slop with all sails up and no motor.
The anchorage this night was perfect and I am not giving out the position to anyone.
On the way I caught what I thought was a big mackerel but when I finally got it
on board it was much smaller than I thought and the teeth were huge barbs, completely
unlike the fine needles of a mackerel. It turned out to be a tropical barracuda.
These fish are unrelated to the barracuda of higher latitudes but just as strong
and aggressive. My fish book says they are not good to eat and ciguatera carriers.
There is no way I can extract the hook, which is embedded in its jaw so I just wait
for it to expire, remove as much of the hook as I can, and toss it over the side
feeling guilty for taking a life so unnecessarily.
I spend the night anchored inside Lena Reef, a perfect place on a quiet night, and
with only two distant stink boats for company.
A short sail south to Ruby Reef. I want to dive the northern end of this reef but
somehow don't have the energy today so I work my way into the center of the reef
and anchor amongst the bommies.
Braveheart is on the radio! They are just south of me at the northern end of Escape
Reef. We agree to meet up the following day.
I leave Ruby Reef before 7 under sail. I reckon it will take 2 hours to get to Escape
Reef, and so it does. I am surprised to find that they are right at the northern
tip, quite exposed to the swell. After dropping anchor at a beuatiful spot quite
close to the reef, and comparing notes since we last met, we agree to go for a snorkel.
From the moment the reef comes into view as you snorkel towards it you know this
place is special. Great underwater shadows turn into crags, bommies and gaps with
spectacular overhangs and drops. Perfect for snorkelling. And the fish are fantastic!
Too many to enumerate. Chris and Judy on Braveheart had two guests: Judy's sister
Deb and her husband Greg who also have their own yacht in Sydney. Chris remained
with the boat but everyone else was a keen diver. As we wandered along the reef
a few white-tipped reef sharks cruised past and checked us out. As time went on
they went and got their friends and relatives, and came closer and closer, obviously
curious about these strange and exceptionally awkward creatures swimming amongst
them. By the time there were eight large sharks following around behind us I had
had enough. I know they are only reef sharks with no record of aggression to divers
but Jaws still has a lot to answer for...
We moved further south to get out of the swell and had a wonderful evening on Braveheart.
Judy cooked Coral Trout, Yellowfin Tuna and Emperor -- simply and lightly battered
and fried. And they still had some fresh salad! We were supposed to decide
which fish was best, but how do you decide between three of the best fish on earth?
Next day we part company and I head for St Crispin's Reef. Along the way I call
in at Agincourt Reef. Quicksilver have constructed a huge thing here with boats
and playthings for the thousands of tourists they bring out to the reef each week.
Huge high-speed ferries whisk them around so they can do their day trip to the reef
from Cairns or Port Douglas. I went in closer for a good look at this absurd sight
and was greeted by a couple of lads on a barge who came out to meet me. They were
friendly enough but it was clear they wanted no yachties hanging around to interfere
with their tourist fleecing. So after exchanging pleasantries and nearly running
into the reef because I wasn't paying attention, I moved on to St Crispins. It was
a hot day with a light breeze but I sailed as much as possible. By the time I anchored
there was no wind left and I was hanging out for the cool clear water.
I dive around a couple of bommies but I've seen it all before. Getting blasé. More
game fishing boats anchored near by overnight.
Cairns: 12 October 2007
Conditions are very light next day so I decide to check out the northern part of
St Crispins and the outside edge of the reef. I pass a couple of commercial moorings
and think of stopping but have an urge to explore and to go places that the tourists
don't. So I keep going, looking for somewhere I can anchor over sand, and where
there is some interesting reef close at hand. But it's all reef, too shallow or
too deep to anchor. I can see shallow sandy patches but none near interesting reef.
It's frustrating as I pass miles of inaccessible reef. It's mostly too deep for
snorkelling anyway, even if I could stop.
I keep going past the south end of St Crispins and turn towards Low Isles. A northerly
breeze grows slowly until I can see the yachts bobbing about in the anchorage and
I realize that it won't be very comfortable in there. So I kept going, heading for
Cairns. It's only 24 miles and if the breeze holds it will be a pleasant sail, even
though a long day. The breeze drops out as the sun sets so I have to motor again.
I like sailing at night. The distinction between yacht and not-yacht is enhanced.
The world beyond the rail becomes an abstract pixelation of bright spots on a black
chart: stars, planets, satellites and a moonless sky above, and navigation lights,
channel markers, ships and confusing shore lights below. Distance is no longer discernable,
only angles.
Coming into the Cairns channel the wind rises to a reasonable breeze and I unfurl
the headsail to take advantage of it all the way to the start of Trinity Inlet where
the breeze deposits me in still air, like a wave leaving flotsam on the shore. I
motor past the sleeping sea gypsies and pick up Fritz's mooring further up Trinity
Inlet. But I am buzzing now and unable to contemplate sleep. I listen to a CD and
drink a beer, contemplating the state of the universe. I am glad to be back.