Five worst things about cruising, by Liss

1. Cabbage. Even when the outside resembles a slimy yellow soccerball, that persistent vegetable manages to retain a heart of relative crispness. It lasts for as long as you can keep it. You can put cabbage in sushi, curry, pasta, sandwiches, coleslaw, stew, wraps, tacos and burritos. You can put it in "salad" but it will be the only ingredient, because the only reason you're making a salad out of cabbage is because all the other vegetables were eaten weeks ago. Heck, you can cut it up really small and hide it in your kids' porridge. But only once. We have a fridge on board, but it has limited space so we can usually store about a week and half's worth of fruit and veg. This last trip we stayed out for over three weeks, hence our ultimate dependence on cabbage. "Remember cucumbers?" I overheard my 6 year old saying wistfully to her brother one night as she sat toying with her fish and cabbage and rice. We didn't know it at the time, but we were about to experience something much, much worse than cabbage.

2. NO CABBAGE!

This pitiful array is the perishable food we had to spread out over the last four days of our most recent departure from the mainland. Please note that one of the lemons is rotten, that the sweet potatoes are the size of baby carrots and that the sprouts are at the Soaking Stage, at least 72 hours from the Eating Stage. Supplement the above with tinned sauerkraut, tinned tomatoes and a feisty handful of sea rocket, and you'll see why the kids all ordered jumbo salads when we got to the Rosslyn Bay cafe. Come back Cabbage, all is forgiven!

3. Fear. Okay, I don't mind the odd burst of adrenaline, such as that provided by the presence of a very large whale sliding under the very small dinghy containing my nearest and dearest. But white knuckles for hours and hours and hours on end (thank you Hummocky Island, we won't be back to your demon-possessed, merry-go-round ride of an anchorage any time soon), no thanks. Miles summed it up the other day: cruising involves one quarter fun, one quarter boredom, one quarter sleeping and one quarter crapping your nappy.

4. Too much wind (see above) or not enough wind. I hate, hate, HATE motoring long distances.  Purists (we've only met 2 so far and they lived on the same boat) just stay put until the wind builds, but our late start up the coast means we have to hussle more than we'd like to.

5. Rolly anchorages. I don't mind up and down, side to side motion when you're sailing along at a clip; the excitement of being On The Move combined with the joy of those little ginger treats that we only seem to eat on passage makes a corkscrew ride bearable, and you know it'll stop when you anchor. Only, sometimes, it doesn't. Our worst anchorage so far (other than Hummocky, for different reasons) was at Svendson's Beach on Great Keppel Island where we serendipitously combined a brisk southerly wind with an enthusiastic easterly swell almost big enough to surf. In the end the kids and I threw a tantrum and we left with tea towels and underwear still hanging from the rails and the tender panting along in our wake.

* 5 worst things about cruising are subject to change at any time.

Who needs snow?

The black slopes at Butterfish Bay, Wop-pa Island.

RJ turns 14

Here's a movie her dad made about RJ's 14th birthday, which we celebrated on Humpy Island, coincidentally also the scene of our honeymoon seakayaking trip 16 years ago. Watch youtube video

The Ridge Walk, Humpy Island

Fresh growth on Xanthorrhoea

Newbies get slammed

The way the tasks have divided themselves:
Helmswoman & Navigator (Liss): It's a bay, right? There won't be any swell.
Emergency Response, Weather Forecasting & Cocktails (Milo): Thirty-five knots, could be hairy...[hands wife a handwritten summary of the weather modelling, knowing that she takes things in better visually]
Liss: Yeah, but it's a BAY...
Milo: Could be hairy...

Enjoy
Film by Malachy

I love whales

Lady Musgrave

Not much internet here, but with the phone dangling at the top of the mast, we can report that all is well.  We have been anchored in the lagoon at Lady Musgrave Island for about 5 days.  It's a large clear lagoon in 8 meters of water; you anchor by standing on the mizzen maststeps (another excellent use of mizzens) and call out directions to the helmsperson to avoid shallow bommies.  There are a few other boats here, and we joined up with the team from Molly, a 48 foot alloy cat and the kids played for a few days, and we shared fish and stories. We're waiting out a strong northerly before riding a small lull before a strong southerly arrives to get to somewhere more protected.  It's all about the weather, and I have massive respect for the days before iphones up masts and daily weather from the coast guard.  Stay tuned for an underwater video from Sylvie. Miles

Noddy terns, getting ready for bed

Budi, lingering

Coralhenge

Kid crews from Pandion and Molly

Five best things about cruising, by Liss

1. You can wear any old thing. Or nothing at all. Those of you who know me well know that a report card about my general appearance might say, Could do better, needs to apply herself. On Pandion we encourage people to recycle their clothing several times and apply the Sniffer Test before putting them in the clothes bag, so for a few days (I'm being deliberately vague here) I don't even have to think about what to put on in the morning, I just put on the same stuff I wore the day before.
2. These awesome pegs. I would like to pay tribute to my Father-in-law (Henry the Lettuce Farmer) for the gift of these unblow-offable pegs. When one was dropped overboard we rescued it with all the urgency and intent of a Man Overboard.

3. The general deprivation. In the same way that squatting beside a smoky campfire stirring a pot of stew in the rain makes the food taste better, having a hot shower after a few days of birdy baths is utterly, utterly divine.
4. There are moments that always happen when I'm alone and without a camera in my hand that make me grateful to be alive. Leaving Rooney Point under the full moon I glanced out to sea and saw what looked like a phantom sailboat about half a kilometre away, steaming with no light. It turned out to be a pair of whales breaching in phosphorescent water, throwing up great sails of greenish light.
5. I love how much we're all using our bodies and how tired we are at the end of the day. When we were living on land and sleeping on a queen size inner spring mattress, Miles and I had deep misgivings about the bed in the aft cabin. It came (new!) with the boat 30 years ago, it's thin, narrow, and covers all manner of flattish items that don't fit anywhere else on board, like mozzie screens. Last night I was so knackered I could have happily slept on a crate of pineapples, so snuggling up in my little nook was like Sleepy-bye-bye Heaven.

* 5 best things about cruising are subject to change at any time.

One of those little places on the way, by Reminy

Lake McKenzie, by Reminy

We loved this freshwater lake in the middle of Fraser Island.

One of the differences

At 3am, newly awakened by the alarm to set off on passage, Miles sat up to screw down the hatch in our cabin in case of waves/spray/rain.
"I've been thinking about how to make some kind of tool to make gripping these dials easier, you know?" he said. "Like something to rotate them when your hands are wet or cold, or if someone's done them up too tight. I'm thinking some kind of arm with a clamp on one end, but I haven't figured it out yet."
"Wow," I said, sitting up. "I never think about stuff like that. I just think, yay I did it, or bugger, I can't do it."

The Thinker improving the salt water pump

Spot's Big Day Out, by Sylvie

The first time I tried to smuggle Spot into Mum's backpack she took him out. Little did she know I snuck him back in. Spot had a lovely time at Lake Mackenzie.

The Walk, by Malachy

Today we went for a walk to Lake Mackenzie on Frazer Island. Before we knew it we were climbing a very steep hill. There were about 30 false summits, but finally we reached the top.  We walked and walked until we came across a sign that said 3 hours and 30minutes to Lake Mackenzie, and then at last we reached a fence.  It was an electric dingo fence meant for keeping dingoes out, so you can probably guess how I felt, being on the SAME SIDE as the dingoes.  After a long time of walking on gravel we came to the dried up sandy forest and a really beautiful creek. I told Reminy to hold my heels while I drank but I forgot to take my cap off so it fell in.  It was about to disappear when Sylvie prodded it with her stick and it sunk.  I finally I fished it out but for a long time my head was underwater.  Then I got up and didn't even get my drink!  At last we got to the lake and I realised that I didn't bring my swimmers so I had to go in my underpants with a knot tied stylishly on one side because they were too loose.  The lake was clear, freshwater and really amazing.
p.s. We ended up walking 26 km there and back. Even Sylve.  

Landmarks

This was the devastating sight that we woke to this morning. Coming through the shallowest part of the Great Sandy Straights yesterday, and trying not to beach ourselves on Sheridan Flats, we passed close to two humpback whales, struggling to come unstuck on the highest tide. They were being monitored by Parks and Wildlife, and several times during the night I thought of them, and hoped they'd make it off the sandbar and into deeper water. The pair were still visible six nautical miles off, giant landmarks that shouldn't be there.