I got up very early around 05:30 this morning as I wanted to
make as much distance as I could before the wind came up as I knew it would,
and we had a long way to go and most of it to windward.
Around 07:00 we headed through the dreaded Eclipse Island
passage (This is where Phillip Parker King observed a full eclipse of the moon
to correct his longitude tables) where there are several uncharted rocks to avoid
and very strong tidal streams to deal with.
We made it through without incident and headed for the Anjo
Peninsular for another dodgy passage through the Geranium Harbour passage.
All the way we had a thirty-knot wind right on the nose and
I had to run one engine to push the apparent wind forward enough to create
enough lift in the sails to point thirty-eight degrees where I wanted to go.
Without the help of the engine (only running at 1800 rpm instead of the
cruising 2800 rpm) I wouldn’t be able to sail.
Having the sails up steadies the boat and makes the ride
much more comfortable and we were using half the fuel consumption we would
normally use.
It was a very uncomfortable ride but still fast averaging
six knots all the way to West Bay where the track into Truscott air base is
located. I wanted to stop and have a look at all the WW2 relics left by the
Americans after the war ended, as they walked out and left everything there.
There are even two crashed liberators near the runway, but
that is over ten kilometres away, too far for me to walk.
I dropped the pick in West Bay and it was rough as guts as I
motored into the old concrete landing in the dinghy. I anchored the dinghy and
as I walked up the beach a car pulls up and a grumpy man said this is Aboriginal land and you need a permit to come ashore.
I said to him that I have an Aboriginal permit and an MSIC
card as per the sign next to the car, and I said that I’m not interested in the
airport or any of the companies private property, I just want to come ashore
and take some photos of the rusting WW2 relics.
The grumpy man calmed down and said there was some stuff
along the side of the road about a kilometre away and to watch out for the huge
5.5-meter resident crocodile.
I walked around for
about two hours looking at all the equipment left to rust after the war. Most
of it was empty USAF AVGAS drums, but there was a grader, a steam roller and many
old trucks as well.
Rusting WW2 grader on the beach
On the way back to the dinghy, I noticed many cattle tracks
and droppings and then I came across what looked like a huge turtle track until
I realised it was a HUGH fresh crocodile track.
I quickly looked around and followed it and couldn’t see
him, so I fast tracked my way back to the dinghy, stopping to say thanks and to
have a chat with Mr Grumpy.
By now he had stopped being a police man and was quite nice
to chat with. We said our goodbyes and I cautiously went back to the dinghy.
There were about a dozen huge brolgas on the beach off in the distance that
looked magnificent, but there was no time to hang around here with this huge
croc lurking in sight.
It was a very rough trip back out to Sirocco who was bucking
up and down in the high winds. Once on board, I hoisted the main and pulled the
anchor heading for Honeymoon Bay up wind ten miles away.
It was a rough shitty sail all the way. We rounded Bluff
Point (Covered in WW2 land mines) just on sunset and dropped the pick out of
the wind and swell in Honeymoon Bay just before dark.
It was another big day and we were both glad to get out of
the wind and relax in the shelter.
Track Sirocco’s
progress
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