Shark Bay: Shelter Bay Paradox

Ashiki anchored - Photo Geoff Davis

Our first anchorage in Shark Bay is ringed by a 2 mile long beach that is peppered with 4WD tent cities. I counted 7 of them, usually 2 to 4 offroad vehicles at each. They had dinghies and were busy buzzing in and out. We tried holidaying a few years back with a rental 4WD and loved it. Can really get away to magical places in a 4WD, they would be having a ball. Just too bad paradise is crowded nowadays!

Action on the beach at Shark Bay

The water is crystal clear, the weather had cleared and I made good on my promise, that is when we finish this leg and are safe at anchor, I was going to cook those two steaks in the bottom of the fridge. Vacuum sealed organic Kimberley beef. What a difference good food makes to cruising! We didn’t bother going ashore that first day, because after a multi night voyage, all we want to do is eat then sleep.

Shelter Bay

Anchored @ Shelter Bay - Photo Geoff Davis

Next day I caught fish, landmark occasion! Fresh meat for lunch at last!

Then we had a visitor

I noticed a tiny sailboat, more like a dinghy sailing towards us. Saw it yesterday but found it hard to believe fishermen here would step a rig on their boats. They are all such petrol heads! Anyway, this little boat got closer and I said to Susie I thought it must be someone who trailered it up behind their 4WD since this place is way too far from civilisation for someone to sail up…  When it got closer I couldn’t believe it, a word came to the tip of my tongue, I said “Paradox”. It was a tiny fully enclosed boat (think coffin) with tiny sailing rig and the skippers head peering out the hatch. He rounded up and said- 
“Hi there, I saw your Benford Badger and have read your blog”.     

:-O  !!

I rushed below, opened my notebook, crossed out the number “2” and triumphantly wrote in a “3”. The number of people who read this blog. Rupert, here I come…

Yep, Geoff sailed "Small Fry", a Matt Layden Paradox micro cruiser, up from Fremantle. 370 nautical miles in 5 days. All 14' 6" of it.

Bonkers. 

I thought we had the monopoly on that.

Seems to be coming our way..

Lookee, its one of those micro cruising boats I've read about.
Sails fast, no motor (no need), did an easy circle around Ashiki.
He SAILED from Fremantle. 370 nautical miles. (685 km!)

Lug sail with boom furling. Nifty! 

Susie is taking ownership. I had a look too. There's a line circling
the living area on blocks, pull on it and the rudder moves. Steering from bed.
Sounds ideal to me! He has everything in there, VHF, ventilation system, 
anchor, it really is a brilliantly designed little boat.

Geoff relaxing on Ashiki. 5 day sail from Fremantle with 110 litres
of fresh water and 2 months supply of food. Museli and baked beans mostly..
(he says). I don't know how he fits it all in.
I stood on deck hanging back from the mast trying to tip it, it firmed up
quickly, heeled maybe 25˚ then stopped. Has about 620kg displacement.

Off again. He told us he rounded Cape Leeuwin previously, that's one cape down,
4 to go of the great Southern Ocean Capes, Geoff.
Next there's Cape of Good Hope, Cape Horn...

Shark Bay

Zuytdorp cliffs - 180km long, 300m high. Named after the Dutch ship
which wrecked itself against it in 1712. The anchors were still stowed
indicating they were taken by complete surprise in the night.

After failing to catch a single fish in the fish mad Abrolhos (had one good nibble) we packed up and set sail for Shark Bay. 140 miles to the entrance, through a pass called Steep Point. This is at the end of a particularly treacherous lee shore, the Zuytdorp cliffs. I heard they are really something to see but the pilot book advised to keep 5 miles distance from them to avoid confused seas. 

Two hours out a plane circled back and buzzed us, we dumbly waved at it, then flew away. Next thing we knew a call came over the radio for a “ketch with red sails which a plane just flew over”. It was the Australian Maritime Surveillance Service wanting to know who we are, what’s our next port and are we smuggling asylum seekers? (I made up that last bit.) Susie calls them the “Stop the Boats” Service, which is accurate enough.. I gave them the info but not sure if they received it, then we lost reception. Ah the advantages of a 5W handheld VHF.

This was a 2 day and 2 night voyage, we aren’t really used to overnight voyages, sleep is disturbed and doing things on a moving boat is hard work. Downwind is no fun either, as the boat rolls too much. But the technique I figured for the wind vane, is that it’s more about the sails than the vane itself. If the boat speed is kept to 4 to 4.5 knots, that is, the sails are reefed down enough and balanced, the vane can steer her. Ashiki ended up steering herself, via windvane, for 18 hours straight without either of us touching the tiller. At one point I thought we may arrive at Steep Point before first light, so we sailed with only 3 panels on the foremast to keep her speed to 3 knots that second night.

Zuytdorp Cliffs.. I can't imagine a worse lee shore.

Not long after dawn, with 10 miles to go, the wind died. We could see the cliffs on the horizon, and already they were impressive, being 300m high, but dark clouds were coming up from behind and I thought maybe we should motor in before it gets too hairy. I wouldn’t want a date with those cliffs. We motored for 40 minutes at 4 knots, the sky became darker, then the wind came back, so we raised a few panels of each sail and killed the motor since sail power is better, it steadies the boat for one. The main body of black clouds passed to the south of us, which was a relief, but then the grey body of clouds behind caught us, rain began to pelt down and visibility dropped to 50m. We could no longer see the point, nor those huge treacherous cliffs. All we could do is hold the course as dictated by the charts, 31˚, hoping for the best. This could be really scary if visibility doesn’t improve, we’d have to tack away, but the reason I didn’t do that right away was because many of these fronts in WA last only a short time, or so I hoped. Sure enough, after 5 minutes, the front passed, the grey veil lifted revealing the coastline and we were on our way to Shark Bay.

Steep Point, Australia's western most extremity
 and entrance to Shark Bay. Note the balloon fishing.

Steep Point after sailing through and entering South Passage.

The cliffs are huge, the point is huge, I would call them majestic, the true sense of the word if there ever was one. The gas balloon fishing is odd..  Susie was repeating several times “I’ve never anything like this”. Sure was something to behold, sailing our little boat through the great pass separating Steep point and Dirk Hartog Island.. As soon as we are in, inside the UN World Heritage Sanctuary known as Shark Bay, we are buzzed by fishing dinghies. This place is remote, 4WD (SUV or truck in USA) territory only, but remote is popular and this place is full of people. Must be the popularity of 4WD vehicles in Australia, it seems like every deserted little corner of this continent is no longer… deserted.

See the bloke fishing? Hoodie infront of the vehicles. He's is using a
gas balloon to carry his hook out into the straits. I'd heard of
gas balloon fishing up here but first time I've seen it.

Inside the South Passage, looking at Monkey rock.

Not all the fishing dinghy guys waved, one lot maybe were a little gobsmacked. Maybe our boat, the colours, the sails are beyond the their ken..  I don’t know. We headed for a bay recommended as pleasant in the guide book, a bay infront of a homestead. Dropped the anchor onto what appeared to be sand, powered back on it and noticed it seemed to skip along the bottom. At that point a large RIB had dropped a load of tourists off at the homestead and then motored out to us, asked how we’re doing. An American. I told him fine but I’m about to dive on our anchor because it doesn’t seem right, that’s when he let us know there’s no good anchorage here, thin sand over rock and yachts drag here all the time. I don’t believe he was trying to get rid of us, because the anchor wasn’t taking hold. We moved to the next bay back, Shelter Bay, our no.2 choice where there’s lots of sand, dropped the hook and backed up on it and it dug in. 

Typical dirt road up here.

At anchor in Shelter bay

View from our anchorage, Steep Point & Dirk Hartog Island on the right

Added section to "Why bother" page

I have added more to the "Why bother with a junk rig" page, about good tack and bad tacks.

Abrolhos: Wallibi Group

Another mooring area next to a tiny island - Easter Group

I was surprised to see how many islands are occupied. A dozen or more and must be hundreds of people living here without government infrastructure. In fact I think it was a free for all in the early days, now the state government strictly controls settlements, no new shacks (some are converted shipping containers), need fishing license to own one etc. We hung around Morley island for a couple days and noticed the perfect white sand beaches, WA has a thousand miles of white sandy beaches, really white powdery stuff, so I have to say, I seen it before…  

I know someone catches fish here, just not me..

Most the cruising boats here had an aluminium dinghy (with outboard), obviously prepared for the main activity on the Abrolhos, which would be fishing. We didn’t come for an Abrolhos specific holiday, just passing through, so weren’t adequately prepared. Though I did try to catch a fish with my puny 6 lb line and rod, for a whole day & failed miserably.

Rat Island - largest settlement in the Abrolhos

We decided its time to check out another island, this time it was off to the next island group, 10 miles to the north, called the Wallibi group and our destination is Turtle Bay. Also I wanted to sail past the biggest settled island here, Rat island. The one next to it is called “Little Roma” also full of shacks - guess which nationality named that.. After 2 miles sailing within the island group and we were in open sea again, but not away from people, several power boats headed for us for a closer look at the funny rig. Susie was quite perturbed by one boat heading straight for us, only for it to turn at the last moment. I had lifted my hand to…  wave… as the aft deck revealed a dozen people all with cameras pointed at us. Sure hope one or two of the multitudes who have photographed Ashiki so far would upload one to the net so my googling can find it…  This patch of continental shelf is swarming with Geraldton boat charters, busy business.

Charter boat made us a tourist attraction.
The cross we bare..

We entered the Wallibi group, wing on wong at 6.2 knots with zero rolling, because the water was completely flat. Susie took the opportunity to make coffee in the stable horizontal galley. We found Turtle Bay at the northern end, 3 of the 7 moorings were still unoccupied, the rest taken by quite large power boats. This island is the largest on the Abrohos and actually has hills and is quite pleasant to wander on.

Turtle Bay mooring - missed the Turtles..

East Wallibi Island has an air strip, which we tramped all over, when we got to the other end we saw the sign which said do not tramp all over..   Tourists are dropped off daily to hike across the island and sit at a purpose built shelter on the beach, and have a snorkle. We met the pilot of one of the flights, he had hiked to the top of a hill for phone reception, same reason we were there.  Susie asked him what iPhone app he prefers for wind and weather forecasting. As expected he knew a very good one “Willy Weather” -  a free app - for the Aussies. 

Wallibi Island trail, lots of lizards and heard there
are some wallabies, but very timid as we didn't see them
maybe because of the aerial predators, see other pics.

I never want to learn who owns the flash boats which may cross our path because often its some household name, but the pilot was eager to name drop. The guy on the next mooring to us bought a fishing license just so he could own a shack on Pidgeon island, then turned the interior into a palace, added a heliport etc. Two clues to who he is, owns a construction company and (for our English readers).. refurb of Wembley Stadium London…

Wallibi Airport - runway, tarmac, terminal, hanger & Novotel.. somewhere..

Incoming

Airstrip jetty

Pidgeon Island in the distance

A few land bird species live on the Wallibi, here's
an Osprey. 2m wingspan.

Same Osprey

White Bellied Sea-Eagle on the loo.
About 5 Ospreys and Eagles call this little Island
home (1.5 miles across) and generally terrorise
the local ground critters..

Same Sea Eagle

Turtle Bay from "phone reception" hill..

Shelter for the plane tourists

View from shelter

Eastern side of Wallibi Is

Wallibi sunset

Abrolhos: Easter Group

At day break we had drifted above the southern entrance of the Easter group of islands, but the laptop battery was dead and the morning looked heavily overcast, not much chance of solar energy for awhile I thought. Susie’s laptop, our backup navigation computer had mysteriously stopped working last week so we had nothing to go by. We didnt have alternative means of charging, the outboard was supposed to fill that role, but its alternator never worked. So what the heck, nothing for it but head back to Geraldton. I was a fool believing we could cruise without paper charts. Boy what a fizzer this was turning out to be. At least we know where Geraldton is. 

Did I already mention it’s not easy in a small boat on the… ? I think I did.

Ten minutes on course back towards the mainland the current coming through the solar panels was encouraging. It was still overcast but at 8:30am there was enough glare to make electricity and the laptop's battery was beginning to recover. Booted it up, 11% charged, noted some chart way points for the Easter Group entrance, closed it down to help it recharge and punched the course into the handheld GPS (which aways works). We’re back in action.

We tacked the junk schooner back on course for the Easter Group, good thing Ashiki is an easy boat to tack, really nothing to do but put the tiller over. Just make sure there's enough boat speed if there are waves about so she doesn't stall midway. But on this tack the foresail sheet wrapped itself around the dorade vent funnel and started pulling hard. It popped off, bounced along the deck, over the side and into Davey Jones’s locker.

We were making Sou'west in a good breeze with 9 miles to go. Ashiki went faster, then faster. The sky looked a little dark to the south and the waves started shredding apart at the their peaks and Ashiki went a little faster again, 4 to 5 knots to windward. Then the rain pelted down at 45˚, Ashiki heeled over more and powered along, reefed a panel on each sail, we stayed mostly dry because of the weather cloths surrounding the cockpit. A little stormy. We were used to windy and a little stormy. After couple hours of sailing I rebooted the laptop, 55% charged, excellent, and saw we were approaching the reefed lined entrance. All I could see was breaking waves everywhere and wondered if the pilot book had something to say about this. I went back below to read it, also on the laptop..

It said: “The southern entrance should not be attempted in heavy weather”. My heart sank, I think this qualifies as “heavy weather”. I broke the news to Susie. We’ll have to try the northern entrance, 4 hours back the other way. :( We had just sailed 3 hours “this way”.

Maybe this is why the Batavia crew were at each others throats..

Tacked around and pointed Ashiki back to the North East, whence we came. Then I noticed she’s moving at 2 knots. Odd, a bit slow with this healthy wind…  errr.. um..  what wind? Then I noticed the waves were flattening out. The front had blown itself out and the seas were very quickly approaching calm!

Maybe we can enter the south entrance now. I fired up the motor, swung the boat back around and at full tilt headed for the southern entrance buoy, I didn’t know if another front was coming, though it didn’t look so dark southwards anymore but not wanting to waste any time. The little 6hp outboard can push 5 tons of Ashiki at 5 knots if the conditions are right. We’re at the red marker within 10 minutes, then a 90˚ turn to starboard and follow the rhumb line North. A few moments and we were in, gliding over the table top flat, protected waters of the Easter Group.

17 hours to get to one entrance.. Come on, if we did it easy I’d have nothing to write about..

Navigating the long loop around the coral reefs to the moorings was easy, I had moved the laptop to the galley bench where it is within view from the cockpit and because navigation these days is by video game. Your boat is the little red boat on the screen, you drive it around the screen by moving the tiller on your real boat. Just keep your little red boat away from the green bits, they be shoals. (You lose points hitting those.. and your real boat springs a leak..) 

I almost hit a shoal. Saw a marker buoy and thought that’s the place to turn and forgot about the “little red boat”. Only sharp eyes on Susie’s part saved the day…

Picked up a mooring in front of a white beach and the job is done. We’re at the Abrolhos Islands. Finally!

Then the sky cleared, the sun came out and it was a glorious day, and we saw a seal waddle around on the beach.

A seal, had enough of us and headed back over the hill.

When we get to a reliable 3G connection, I’m downloading charts for the iPhone nav app so we have another backup. "Electronic" backup.. don’t learn do I? ;)

Settled at Morley Island, Easter Group.

On the other side of the coral hillock, the cruel sea.

Some dead coral 

Small fish, keeping tight. Maybe they fool predators 
into thinking they are one big fish?

Morley Island

Morley Island, Rat Island on the horizon with fishing settlement.

Morley Island "landmark"

An Island too far

Houtman Abrolhos Islands

At sea again, where's the wind?

We made an early start, stowed the hook and motored out of the bay to raise sail, after 5 pleasant days in Geraldton we were on our way to the exotic Abrolhos Islands. A collection of 4 island groups, mainly coral atolls as far as I can tell, 32 miles straight out to sea, but still just inside the Australian continental shelf. I know it has a semi permanent fishing community living there in makeshift shacks of which it is famous. In the old days it was like a heady gold rush attracting all nationalities. As the saying goes, the Finns built saunas, the Italians built chapels and the Aussies built bars. It is also a fairly popular long distance destination for Fremantle cruising yachts. I’ve heard about the islands my entire life, but never been there. There’s history in that place, and the beginnings of European involvement would be one of the most brutal and bloody in all Australian history. 

First glimpse. Really low island.

We were aiming for the closest island group, namely the Palseart group. Named after the Captain of the Batavia, a ship belonging to the Dutch East India Company, which shipwrecked there in 1629. The good captain took a long boat to Java where he was to return with a rescue ship for the remaining crew. After he left, merchant officer Jeronimus Cornelisz and his mutinous honchos went on a rampage and murdered 140 of his fellow crew/passengers and lay in wait to storm Palseart’s rescue ship on his return. His plan was foiled when some survivors made their way to the Walibi group (to the north) where ship’s soldiers had been left stranded. Palseart returned and learnt of the murders from soldiers thus able to capture the perpetrators who were then tried and hanged. Except for 4 of them who were deposited on the mainland to take their chances with the local aborigines. Palseart with 40 surviver’s continued to Java. (There’s been speculation in recent times that the 4 Dutchmen left behind mingled with the indigenous population and maybe there’s some European DNA in the descendants, but not substantiated.)

Fishermen settelment, basic housing.

We wanted to get there in daylight as there are reefs everywhere, but, of course, the day wasn’t ideal, the wind left us halfway across. We only use the motor if it is really serious, like today..  so we’d motor for 40 minutes, try sailing, then motor again.

A cairn! You know, those things mountain climbers
leave a top of mountains...
I figure these islands are so low lying, a wave can
obscure them, fishermen built it to
help find their way back.

We made the islands an hour before sunset so not enough time to find our planned anchorage, which would entail several miles of weaving around coral heads. Explains the name, Abrolhos is a shortening of Dutch phrase meaning “keep your eyes open”. The closest anchorage in the pilot guide was opposite an island called “the post office”. It said it was deep and recommended by “Fisheries Department”. It was 20m deep, and I don’t like dropping the hook that far down. So we motored towards the shore where there was a “real” house (not a shack), checking the depth sounder, at 5m Susie went forward to the anchor, then suddenly called back “Stop! Reverse! Its all coral!” I looked overboard, and there were the biggest coral platters I’ve ever seen. Several feet across, covering every inch of seabed and shoaling quickly. Wow. It looked like another planet down there! On the shore there was a man standing there, looking at us. But no time to hang around over a shoal. We couldn’t anchor here, probably never get the anchor up again..  As we motored back out I looked at the next anchorage the guide “recommended”, it was a good hour away. We had 1/2 hour of sunlight left. I came to the realisation we can’t do anything here. Its reef everywhere, no local knowledge, its dark soon and there’s no hope but to leave. Lets go to Shark Bay and Carnarvon now, 200 miles north and skip the Abrolhos as a bad dream. Susie understood the danger and fully agreed, care and safety of boat and crew overrides frivolous destination choices.

Yet another classic stuff up.

We should have gone yesterday (tons of wind then!) 

Nothing is easy in a small boat on the high seas.

I quickly plotted a course through clear water north east, out of here. Sails up and with Ashiki nodding along at 4.5 knots she was sailing beautifully, like she had not a care in the world, sailing like this has a calming affect. I started thinking of other possibilities. With a southerly blowing, we could heave to and not run into the next island group, another 5 miles to the North West. I knew the direction Ashiki would drift and knew what was possible. To quit Abrohlos all together was an over reaction, this was a better idea.

That is what we did, put Ashiki in heaving to mode, let out the sea anchor to slow our progress and sleep off the night in deep water in between the island groups. We would visit the Abrolhos after all, in the morning, choosing the 2nd Group instead. The Easter Group.