For anyone who reads our blog you may have noticed we’re rather slow on the posts lately. A few people have gotten in touch to see how we’re doing, and I have to say we’re fine. Australia, on the other hand, desperately needs help with its phone service and internet; so please send phone service technicians if you know any.
We’veĀ just finished cruising the Whitsunday Islands where we’ve been lucky to get glimpses of internet as we go from one bay to another. I use this precious time to get Wordle and quickly check Facebook while Rich deals with emails. The few days we’ve spent in marinas have been devoted to restocking, boat maintenance, laundry, and making plans for the next outing. Not surprisingly this busy time combined with lack of internet when we do have downtime has not been conducive for doing blog posts.
At this moment we’re motor-sailing past the town of Bowen (Australia). The internet has popped up again; so I’m posting this note. As we continue north we should be near cities (and doing blog posts) more often. I’m planning to be “current” for awhile and start doing posts about our time in Australia so far. We should be in Townsville in day or so and intend to spend at least a week there, getting us out of frantic-rush mode and giving us more time to get things done. –Cyndi
Our friend is planning to sail from NZ to Oz in November and we were talking about tools to view historical weather data. Here’s my two cents worth in this video.
I threw the ‘zone of misery” in as a bonus.
I’m sorry about the audio quality on this video. I have a failing mic and promise to replace it soon.
Table of contents
0:00 Intro
0:20 Pilot Charts
1:04 PredictWind Historical Weather
1:51 earth.nulschool.net Historical Weather
4:45 Zone of Misery or Misery Index (MI)
During nighttime passages, or even while anchored at night, I make it a policy to discard my first impressions. There’s been too many times when I’ve come into the cockpit and panicked over a unexpected boat’s light right next to us only to realize after a few seconds that I was actually worried about getting hit by Venus, or that really wasn’t a cruise ship bearing down on us but rather the rising full moon on the horizon.
I didn’t follow my own advice on a pitch black night a few days ago. I looked over the side of the boat and saw a huge, mysterious gray object (creature?) just below the surface of the water and right next to Legacy.
“What the hell!”
After the flood of adrenalin passed, I took a closer look.
Finally, after weeks of waiting, we had a weather window to head to Australia. This was a big relief because our visas would soon expire–if we couldn’t get to Australia, we’d have to head somewhere else. Thankfully it never came to that.
As tends to happen when we’re in a nice place, it’s hard to pull ourselves away. There were so many things we’d miss! With knowledge accumulated from several visits over the years, we had our favorite spots. We knew the best stalls for bananas, papayas, and fresh seafood at the Central Marketplace, where to buy the best baguettes, croissants, and pastries, the places to go for our favorite gelato and chocolate liegeois, and we even had “our” restaurant, La Table de Sanchez, where Mssr. Fox, our little orange doggie friend, would joyfully bark a greeting whenever we showed up.
We also enjoyed visiting some old favorite places, in particular a place to enjoy wonderful pasta while overlooking a palm-lined beach and a brewery that served delicious flammkuchen (much like a very thin crust pizza) to go with pints of cold beer. We also managed to make a few new food discoveries, in particular mille-feuille pastries with thick layers of whipped cream sandwiched by crisp puff pastry and fresh fruit (at this time of year it was strawberries or bananas). Unfortunately we didn’t discover these until our final week; so to make up for lost time we had them every day.
Around town we enjoyed the colorful displays created by rainbow lorikeets, hibiscus flowers, bougainvillea, and golden evening light that preceded bright pink and orange sunsets. We also saw a lot of construction! It seems while much of the world was on hold during Covid, city planners in Noumea were still at work. When we arrived, lots of trees had been newly planted, walkways were being renovated, an impressive cruise ship dock with newly-opening shops and restaurants had been completed, and the marina had been enlarged and upgraded. Parts of the Latin Quarter in the downtown area were now torn up, but a fantastic new museum building was being built and all the surroundings were being renovated. Noumea, it seems, is serious about making itself a more mainstream tourist destination.
It was also fun to watch the yachtie folk start to arrive. We arrived early and were pretty much the only cruisers here for a couple of weeks. Slowly, boats started to arrive from Fiji and trickle in from New Zealand. It had been a long time since we’d been part of a cruising community, and it was fun to be back with the flock. By the time we left, Noumea was full of boats coming and going in every direction.
Below, some photos from our time in Noumea (click any photo to enlarge).
As far as cruising, we’d developed a deeper understanding of the local weather patterns and how best to time visits to nearby islands. As often happens when traveling, it’s easy to overlook nearby places while focusing on visiting the big attractions. Well now we’d seen those attractions and were able to focus on some of the lesser ones not far from Noumea. I have to say these turned out to be real gems, not “lesser” at all.
We spent our lagoon outings anchored off little white-sand islands, watching fish and turtles swim in the luminous blue water around our boat, collecting shells along the beaches, enjoying the sight of osprey flying overhead and spotting their nests in the trees, basking in the warm water by the shore, and listening to the sound of waves breaking on the reefs, especially at night when the sound seemed to carry further.
During these trips we really appreciated the things that make cruising the small islands of New Caledonia unique. Of course there are those things that are prevalent throughout the tropics such the unmistakably large cloud formations, the gentle thunder of big waves hitting a distant barrier reef, and the shades of blue and green the sea takes on over a shallow sandy bottom.
Unique, though, was the look of the horizon. With prevailing SE winds, boats generally anchor on the north side of the islands, and ever-present is a view of the mountainous coastline not far away. This gives the scene an extra splash of beauty and a certain feeling of coziness. Between us and the mainland, the sea would sparkle in the sunlight, anything from sliver glitter to flash-bulb pops. There were times it was hard to imagine anything more beautiful than this.
Below just a quick video of the ever-sparkling water . . .
Yet however at home we felt in New Caledonia, it was a stop along the way, not our destination, so another week-at-sea passage was always a looming cloud on our horizon. We never felt relaxed in the way we do when we have months to go before having to think about leaving again. Every day we’d check the weather. Sometimes we’d find possible windows only to realize the sea state would be rough and make us miserable.
We had planned to be cruising up the coast of Australia in June (when winter begins), and here it was near the end of July. I felt surprisingly OK with this. Frankly this had been a terrible year for weather in Australia; so it wasn’t like we were missing out. I hoped by arriving later in the season that the weather would improve (and as it turned out, it did). But there was the increasing pressure of our New Cal visas nearing their expiration date. When the final weather window showed up, we either had to take it or head to Vanuatu as New Cal does not grant visa extensions. The window wasn’t as good as we initially hoped for, but it was good enough.
Our agent checked us out of New Caledonia on August 3, and the next morning after taking our trash to the bins, turning in our keys, and stopping at the fuel dock to fill the tanks, we headed off across the lagoon, out through the reef pass, and into the Big Blue. For the first time in years, we were headed to places we’d never been, all new experiences ahead. It was both exciting and intimidating, a future with so many unknowns. For now, though, we were mostly focused on the passage ahead. –Cyndi
Sailing near Mackay, Australia a couple of days ago, we saw this humpback whale doing tail slaps. It went on for a very long time. Here’s some somewhat shaky video of it.
We’ve seen humpbacks almost every day we’ve been out of marinas. They begin to arrive in this area in June or July. In July to September, mating takes place and this tail slapping may be part of attracting a mate – kind of like adolescent human males yelling “Heeeeyyyyy” in clubs or on the street to attract human females. The previously pregnant females give birth here and then the whole gang heads south to feed in Antarctica. Lather, rinse, repeat.
We’ve also seen a lot of breeching, spy-hopping and fin slaps as we’ve sailed about. No matter how many times we see it, it’s always exciting!
Note: we got a chance to snorkel with these amazing animals in Tonga. Here’s the video.