Monday, March 30th: The Lady cast off at 0900 hrs, with the 13 crew excited about the forthcoming trip. All crew except cook Vivienne and Master Brian were divided into 3 watches with watch keepers Mal, Sam and Mick R to stand 3 hrs on, 6 hrs off for the next three long days. Down the river, the crew settled in, carried out the routine safety muster, then some running repairs on the ratlines, allowing a Steve and Monica to learn some new maintenance skills. As we approach the Iron Pot and Storm Bay the swells started increasing and many crew dived for their seasick tablets, if they have not taken them already. We motor-sailed with a few fore and afts set, passing spectacular Cape Raoul, then heading through the slot between Tasman Island and Cape Pillar. With Brian at the helm, Lindsay had the unenviable task of rough furling the fisherman as we rocked and rolled our way across the confused swells. Everone was on deck gazing in awe at the stunning cliffs on both sides. Few seals remained on the rocks at the base of Tasman Is because of the big swells.
As we head north with the wind on the bow, those not on watch retired below to catch some rest before their next watch, bracing themselves into their bunks, trying to avoid
both body and stomach contents being ejected. Steve preferred to stay on deck and managed to snatch some sleep while standing upright with his arms and harness entwined in the ratlines. All but three of the crew were suffering the effects of the heavy seas, and even those three admitted to feeling rather seedy at times. Sam verified that acupuncture
does not work! Brian ended up with less sleep than anyone since he was up and down on each watch and had to stand in for some seasick crew.
At 2100 we were passing outside Maria Island. There was heavy cloud with not a moon or star to steer by - only the light of an oncoming fishing boat! Steering a compass course was a challenge when irregular big seas knocked the head off in one direction and gusts of wind in the other. While on watch in the bow, the bowsprit dipped under the waves repeatedly, and midship’s gunwales were regularly rolling to the waterline. We were very glad we were all harnessed on.
Below deck chaos reigned. Jan was rudely awoken to find her head on the floor beside the foc’sle head door. Opening the frig for a dash of milk for tea in the middle of the night released its contents. A tossed salad of apple pie, eggs, onions and cherry tomatoes dressed with an exploded bottle of Boags joined the biscuit tins, books and other items bouncing around midships. We were still picking up cherry tomatoes from under the freezer after docking at Beauty Point. They never did make it onto a plate!

Tuesday, March 31st: Dawn found us just north of Schouten Passage when Brian decided to run for some shelter to give the crew a welcome break from the seas. We surfed through the passage to anchor at Bryan’s Beach. However breakfast was cut short as she dragged anchor, so we headed back into the wind. A two hour slog found us half way to the entrance to Wineglass Bay, and it was touch and go whether we would turn back to wait out for calmer weather. But our resident weatherman advised us that the weather would not ease for several more days, so we battled on. The highlight of the trip was at the entrance of Wineglass Bay. Crew gathered around the helmsman as Brian conducted a short, moving ceremony to sadly farewell our former crewman, John Terry, fulfilling his last wishes to spread his ashes onto the waters of Wineglass Bay, on behalf of his wife Pam. As the wind and waves carried his ashes into the Bay, a large flock of shearwaters spiralled around the ship and up into the sky.
Further up the coast we were treated to several pods of common dolphins frolicking in our bow wave. We also enjoyed large flocks of birds following fish schools, including
lovely gannets with their orange heads and many pairs of albatross skimming over the waves. The second night saw us motor past Scamander and Eddystone Lights.
The darkness accentuated the phosphorescence in the water, showing in the white caps, bow wave and propeller trail and occasionally the phosphorescent creatures landed on the deck with a wave. After two days of corkscrewing into the headwind, Vivienne commented:…“It is wonderful to be able to take the Lady north so all my friends can visit her, if only we did not have to endure a trip like this.” Mick recalled yelling out: “Big wave” to Vivienne as she was bringing snacks on deck, but he was too late – she was already sliding across the deck on her backside. Lindsay praised Vivienne’s amazing perseverance in the galley, producing food under the roughest conditions for the few who had an appetite; he was one of the fortunate few not to be feeling too sick! Charles however was the most appreciative, at one stage having no trouble cleaning up left overs as well as eating the extra meal Vivienne had dished up by mistake!

Wednesday April 1st: Thankfully the wind had started to ease so we made better time and reached the entrance of Banks Strait just before dawn. Time to wake the Master, who
has been trying to catch a few hours rest before this tricky passage. The seas were choppy and confused at first, but gradually subsided as we passed between Swan and Cape
Barren Islands. As the sun rose, so did the spirits and appetite of the crew. At last Vivienne’s efforts in the galley were really appreciated and, finally, the wind was in the right quarter to set some sails! Everyone was so busy enjoying the lovely sail that we all forgot it was April Fools day. Except Jan, who managed to fool us about a pod of dolphins that were not on the bow wave but on her T-shirt. Robyn, at the helm doing 6 knots with five sails set in a steady 15 knot breeze, commented that: “If you judged a trip by the number of bruises, this one would win hands down. However, if all the days were like this, today would not be special.” Sam reported that during that first 24 hrs almost everyone was sick and most said they would never do it again, even wanting to jump ship. But by Banks Strait, almost everyone had adapted, was enjoying it and wanted to come again!

Charles noted that the trip had its gremlins, but not as bad as previous trips. We had to get hot water in buckets from the shower, because the galley tap had jammed on cold, until 48 hrs of shaking managed to free it up! Then Peter and he had to repair the salt-water pump so we could flush toilets. The secondary sullage alarm that beeped constantly in the saloon (unless by-passed) had to wait till Beauty Point to be fixed. We timed our sail along Bass Strait to reach the entrance to the Tamar by dead low tide, 2330 hrs.
Just short of Hebe Reef off Low Head we turned into river. It was a slow, tense trip in the dark, with Charles at the helm Brian, Mal and Sam aft with the radar and chart and the rest looking out for’ard, following the leading lights and channel markers that zig-zag their way between the mud flats and rocks. What a relief when Mick’s spotlight picked out the pontoon at Beauty Point, and Brian eased the vessel alongside with assistance from the incoming tide. At 0230 a tired and relieved crew celebrated that Brian had delivered us without serious mishap, over tea and cakes since nothing stronger had survived the trip! Only Peter was heard to mutter: “It’s past my bedtime.”

Thursday April 2nd: A late start after the first restful night saw a ravenous crew appreciating Viv’s wonderful breakfast. Then we thoroughly cleaned the ship, from heads to stern. Mal engaged in a spot of fishing off the wharf , but neither he nor the fish were impressed with his luminous pinkrubber bait; he only managed to hook some smelly old broccoli that somehow got onto his hook while he was asked for his opinion by the engineers repairing the sullage alarm. The crew were finally able to relax that evening over
Vivienne’s award-winning roast lamb (held over from Tues when NO-ONE would have appreciated it).

Friday April 3rd: A rest day for everyone except Vivienne, who headed to the supermarket to restock supplies for the next leg of the trip. All but three of the rest of the crew headed for the bus, leaving Sam wailing: “Who is going to fix my lunch?”, having no success at inveigling Monica into the galley.

Brian summed up the trip:“We had some bad times. A good crew for my first off-shore solo trip. Persistent NE head wind with nowhere to shelter. Constant worry about so many crew seasick with all the duties left to the few left standing. Banks Strait was not as bad as I had feared.”
Lindsay described the trip as: “A character-building experience battling head winds and confused swells.”
But Monica won the best quote of the trip:“You should always join a ship after the first 24 hrs since the first 24 are the worst!” (She is now singing the praises of Quells.)
Jane Elek