Posted March 11, 2023 about
August 31, 2022
After a leisurely morning we pulled up our anchor and set off on the 27-mile trip to Great Keppel Island. The weather conditions were much nicer today as we motor-sailed along in moderately light wind, 12-knots on a broad reach, the sea only marginally bumpy.
As we neared Great Keppel, we passed by the little island just south of it, Humpy Island. It was tempting to stop and check out its bay and pretty beach, but we really didn’t have the luxury of time to do so. Conditions were now picking up as the wind shifted to our beam, now stronger at 15 knots, the sea getting bumpier. At this point we were just anxious to get to our anchorage.
Soon we were motoring up the east side of Great Keppel and getting our first close look at the island. Huh. It wasn’t that it didn’t look nice, but it was hardly the “remote tropical paradise,” that we’d heard about. I realized at this point that I might need to temper my expectations (Rich didn’t really have any expectations to temper).
Below, a few photos as we motored up past Great Keppel to our anchorage (Click to enlarge and scroll on any of the photos below.)
We rounded the NE point and passed by a couple of small but exposed beaches before getting a first look at our anchorage, the bay off Svendsens Beach. The bay looked alarmingly crowded with boats, the last thing one wants to encounter on arriving!
We motored past the long, low rock arm which stretched out from the east headland, creating a natural breakwater for this part of the anchorage. Still, enough swell wrapped around it to create waves that enabled a paddle-boarder to surf alongside it. It looked fun for him, but our objective was to get in close enough to shore to avoid the swell effect known as “The Keppel Roll.”
What a relief as we motored past two boats to find there was enough room between them and the shore for our boat. As we set our anchor, the wind that had been behind us now felt like a wonderfully refreshing breeze coming over the island, keeping us cool and comfortable. Best yet, we were out of the swell! I couldn’t say the same for the boats anchored further away from shore, where we could see some visible roll going on.
As far as the scenery, we were in a large, semi-circular bay with two light-sand beaches (Svendsens Beach and Second Beach) divided by a high bushy outcrop. The island was hilly, densely covered with tree and bush-type vegetation. It wasn’t what we’d consider tropical–it looked more like the drier forests of the outback. There were a few palm trees by the beach, probably planted by the owner of a vacation retreat as, from what we’ve observed, palm trees are not native to the Barrier Reef islands.
Beyond the west headland we could see part of a longer, more deeply indented beach called Leekes Beach. It looked lovely; so I was surprised to see only one boat over there. What gives? Only when I looked at the chart did I realize its best-protected area was quite shallow. (Those people with shallow draft boats sure get a lot of places to themselves!)
To the west, adding to the attractive view, was a nearly-adjoining island called Middle Island and just above that, Miall Island. They were smaller, lower and drier versions of Great Keppel with beautiful-looking beaches that belied the fact they were actually exposed to prevailing wind and sea conditions. The fact is that the weather would have to be unusually calm to anchor off those beaches comfortably.
Scattered to the east were rock islets and off in the distance, the North Keppel Island group. These gave our anchorage the always-appealing look of being surrounded by islands.
I sat outside to gather my impressions of this place, held in such high regard by so many. We’d officially crossed the border into the tropics as we sailed over the Tropic of Capricorn latitude after leaving Gladstone. But in spite of a few fledgling signs, like slightly warmer weather and streakier clouds, this didn’t look or feel like the tropics yet. Meanwhile the scenery, while not exactly jaw-dropping, was plenty attractive enough to make me see this as a worthwhile stop.
It was a sunny day and we considered going ashore, but the prospect of blowing up our dinghy and making the effort to do a land excursion in our late-afternoon tired state wasn’t very appealing. Why not just do it tomorrow? (Spoiler Alert: tomorrow might be cloudy.)
For now, we enjoyed a relaxed afternoon and a lovely evening in blessedly calm spot, something we would come to appreciate when later hearing how rolly it had been for others.
Tomorrow we would go ashore.–Cyndi
