Hamilton island Delivery

OK, I've been out of the loop for a month or so. I'd apologise but no one is reading this so I won't bother.

Last week I had the opportunity to sail a 46 footer from Sydney to the Whitsunday Islands (1000 nautical miles). With the promise of good times, sun and heaps of deep blue water I quickly jumped at the chance - taking a week off work. Sailing north is always a great deal; things get warmer as you go and the breeze and sea state tend to agree with everyone's overall health (as opposed to heading south - where there are no guarantees...none).

Here's a blow by blow:

Day 1 - got away late because there are always jobs to do at the last minute. Even after 6 months preparation there are still last minutes safety checks and hardware adjustments to make before pointing seaward. It's a state of mind thing...just ask any pirate you see walking down the street.

Sailed straight into 25 knots and building. The sea was confused and the waves came from all points out of the west and south. As we were pushed further out to sea the wind grew, and by 2am the next day we were at full hammer sometimes surfing 20 knots or more. The boat, I have to say, loved every minute of it.

Day 2 - The 2 not-so-experienced crew on board were put through a double reef and headsail drop in the darkest part of the night. I must say of all of the newbie experiences for sailing this was a full dance card. No moon, 40 knots, 2 metre confused seas, a boat surfing down anything, oh and seasickness to boot. They did well all things considered. Their colleagues gave no quarter until the boat was settled and back in rhythm. Lots of rest followed and the skipper took the helm for 5 hours until he had a replacement wake up. I was backing up the crew work and moonlighting as a bowman whenever needed - I think I got an hour's sleep that night.

Next morning, more of the same but morale was restored by a beautifully clear day...and a change of course back towards land ( we travelled over 50 nmiles offshore that evening).

Day 3 - Back into holiday moed well and truly. Breeze veered to SE and holding at 20 knots. Plenty of fun off the wind and the sea was much calmer. The boys got over the malaise and joined the watch, much happier to trim and keep the boat settled whilst we steered. I think the first of the wildlife sightings ocurred at this time.

meals consisted of muesli bars and water up until then so when a fahita was placed in my hand whilst I trimmed the main I was truly in awe. I literally cleated the bloody rope and devoured it in about 3 bites. I felt I could take on anything, which was a shame because I still hadn't caught up on sleep. A good couple of hours kip time quickly followed.

Day 4 - saw a full breaching Southern Wright whale off the beam during the day. Even hundreds of metres away this thing made a huge noise. I remember food featuring more and more, nothing much else came to mind at this point.

Except this.....we were almost charged down by the local wildlife. I was steering, I had my eye on a pod moving toward us when it dissappeared. I kept my on the sight line and sure enough a couple of minutes later the bovines popped up 4 lengths from the bow. I had already changed course so I almost soiled myself. I had a whale at full cruising speed heading straight at me. I called for a crash gybe and had my skipper racing for the running backstay. Whilst the new guys looked on with questioning expressions the two of us threw the boat through the manoeuvre and quickly checked the leeuward side. I must say at the point I was expecting this thing to ram us at speed so i wasn't sure if i'd see it before we felt it break the boat in half. I had a tingling in my feet and I preyed that it would pop up somwhere else. I didn't have to wait long. maybe one second after the gybe the whale surfaced again, its spine arcing through the water a single boat length from the stern, exactly where we were 2 seconds earlier. We'd missed it and it never even looked like slowing down. One thing I will remember - the mottle black and grey splotches all along its back, as it simply rolled through the water. That close, so close. The memory is purely what it looked like when I could make out the detail from that kind of proximity. I didn't sleep as well for the rest of the trip.

Day 5 - Generally a dulling of the previous day's excitement. There was a long, slow run up the Capricorn channel with a dying breeze holding square behind us. This made the boat roll and the rigging unsettled. Things weren't as comfortable but some added knots from the motor always helped (and made us believe we were keeping the whales at bay with the noise). Watches passed without anything to say, I think boredom crept in a little at this point.

Day 6 - Finally met a new day in the Cumberland island group. Saw a turtle and some beautiful islands as we drew a rhumb line to Airlie beach. The impatience grew as the breeze died and like all of murphy's good laws we spent a long time basking in sight of the finish line. I steered her in by memory (I spent a long time in the Whitsundays as a child) and were greeted with the challenge of not having a berth for the night. Whilst our skipper was pleading with the marina over the VHF the rest of us were giving our promised drinks nicknames and began writing pen pal correspondence to them.

Finally and anticlimactically we arrived at Abel point, washed the sea off us and warbled towards town for a beer.