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We had moved Imagine further out into the river just before the storm. This morning we decided to haul anchor and move back to give the ferries a bit more room. It should have only taken ten minutes, not three and a half hours.

After all the times we have rescued other boats, it was now our turn to be rescued!

As usual with Sue on the helm moving the boat forward against the tide, I started hauling the anchor up. With just over 20m to go the winch started straining and getting slower with each metre of chain.

Because of the storm and the river flooding a lot of debris had come down the river. What prey tell had caught around our chain?

Sue now had to hold the boat still facing into the river current while I raised the anchor inch by inch. There it was, an old pylon (3.5 to 4m long) nicely tied up with the chain. I could see that it was at the 10m mark on the chain. This meant that the anchor was now off the bottom as we were in 12m of water.

I first tried dropping the anchor fast, hoping the chain would come loose. But no. Okay, inch it back to the surface again.

Note: For the anchor winch to work under load the engine revs need to be high to keep the voltage up. So Sue had to keep taking it out of gear and rev the motor so I could winch. Then she had to put it back in gear to get the boat back under control and face into the current.

Luckily we had previously met the young couple on the Cat anchored behind us, so I jumped in the dinghy and headed across to get assistance.

After about an hour of Andy and I tying rope around the pylon and trying different things, I decided that it would be better to get to the public wharf down river and tie up against that. I phoned Ben to come and give us a hand as the pylon was too big for the two of us to handle.

So we slowly made our way down river against the incoming tide (at .07knots). As we went past another Cat, Andy called out for Wayne to give us a hand.

The pylon was at the 10m mark on our chain this meant take away the meter of chain around the pylon we had 9m of chain and an anchor below us. Most of the river was 12m deep but coming up to the wharf it dropped to 9.5m and to make it more interesting there is an underwater powerline crossing the river.

We made it over the power cable, but 20m from the wharf the anchor hit the bottom. All we could do was drag the anchor. Full throttle and we made it to the wharf.

The crowd thought it was quite interesting seeing a yacht with a pylon out the front.

With a lot of pushing and shoving we eventually got two ropes around the pylon and tied to the wharf. Then we could lower the chain enough to untangle it. Free of the pylon we were able to leave the wharf, haul anchor and return to our anchorage before the storm. We have contacted the authorities to remove the pylon we had left tied to the wharf.

With many thanks to Andy and Steph, Wayne and two people from the crowd. Ben got caught in traffic and as we had so many people helping we told him to return home. But thanks heaps for trying to get here.

Sorry no photos we were a bit busy.

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Just letting you know we have uploaded two new videos. Check them out, Whitsundays part 3 and Coral Coast return.

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This is Nivi and Guido’s final blog entry (for the time being). 

This was the last day of our spectacular adventure. 

We have sailed through sunny, paradisiac islands and into fierce and frightening storms, always with the guidance and wisdom of Andrew and Sue.

Feeling safe, something we felt every day, as certain as the tides can be. 

This boat has been our home, and the crew our family.

Sailing has only been a part of it all, as we learned much more than that during this month.  

Seeking answers and experiences, searching for more, finding more. 

Not only has this voyage been a confirmation of our desire to sail, but Sue and Andrew’s spirit is an inspiration for future projects yet to come. 

Being this a unique tale that will not be forgotten, we say thank you. Thank you for it all. 

Happy sailing, and until we meet again.

Nivi and Guido, over and out.

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We arrived and anchored at the river this morning successfully, but that is not the part of the story I want to tell you. 

As the breeze pushed us on, passing behind Fraser Island, we heard on the radio that there was a “strong wind alert” for the zones that we were still to go through. Reading our own weather reports, we concluded – for the moment – that we could still have all our sails up, so we did. 

By the early afternoon, the wind started to increase its speed, gusting violently. Sue turned the vessel into the mighty waves, while Andrew and Guido put down the main sail. We kept on course, motoring, as the flashes of distant thunder continued to get closer, quiet, but certain. 

Now surrounded by clouds, we witnessed the sun hiding behind them, like a sea of white and orange cotton, and the night fell upon us. 

The view, a breathtaking set of flashes and purple lightning, still in calm seas, nature’s way to advise us what lied ahead, magnificent and menacing all together.

The calm before the storm. I heard this before and thought of it as an expression, but I was proven wrong. It is as real as what happened next. 

I truly couldn’t say how or when did it start, but the wind raised severely and with furious anger, struck the beam of the boat with a speed of about 50 knots. Minutes seemed like hours. Flashes everywhere. Wind howling and water squeezing through every possible opening. 

Andrew and Sue tried to put the boat in the best possible position, while Nivi and I just wondered when would it all end. 

The boat kept heeling over more and more. 

And of course, as everything happens at the same time, we could smell smoke. The wind generator, which by the way was being hit and damaged by a halyard, was overcharging the batteries. One problem solved. 

Then, we realized the anchor winch was enabled. Another cause for the smoke smell, also solved after we turned it off and Andrew went out to check where the anchor was. 

When the front had passed and Andrew managed to put the boat into position, we were wet and honestly, quite frightened. 

A true demonstration of power. 

Being in the middle of a storm cell is an experience that makes you respect the wind and the sea like no other. 

“No one’s life is a smooth sail; we all come into stormy weather. But it’s this adversity – and more specifically our resilience – that makes us strong and successful.“ -Tony Robbins

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Because of the low winds on Thursday we had to force ourselves to endure another day at Lady Musgrave. Friday morning and the winds were still light but we had to make a move, so back through the narrow passage into the deep blue sea we went. The light winds meant light seas which ment Gennaker time (The Gennaker is a large light weight sail). A few hours later the wind increased and we were sailing with the head sail and main sail.
During the night we crossed another shipping channel. This time with minimal stress. Saturday brought more of the same as we sailed passed Fraser Island heading for Brisbane. Late in the afternoon and into the night the wind increased to 25knots and changed to the wrong direction and the skies were not looking good. We weren’t far from Brisbane shipping channel entrance so we dropped all sails and turned on the motor.
We were now close enough to get internet reception. We downloaded the Brisbane weather to find a group of storm cells terrorising the coast and coming our way. The first two passed by putting on spectacular lightning displays.
But the the third one rained its fury on us. The rain was bouncing off the deck so heavy you could only just make out the bow. The lightning was lighting up the cabin and the concerns on Guido’s, Nivi’s and Sue’s faces, as they recalled the shipwreck movies they have been watching lately. The sound of the thunder and howling wind was incredible. A waterfall came through the partly open hatch soaking everyone. Even with the brake on, the wind generator spun out of control as we clocked 100km wind for a few minutes. The winds ferocity lifted lids on the deck lockers and released a halyard that had not been secured properly, which promptly flew into the wind generator. Even under bare poles (no sails) Imagine heeled over as she sailed across the waves at 7knots. Andrew struggled but could not bring Imagine to face into the wind and waves. He just had to sail knowing there was a container ship anchored nearby but could not be seen through the avalanche of water.
Half an hour later we were laughing about how we were taking photos and saying how beautiful the first two were, without knowing what was descending on us.
Surviving the storm we continued to the entrance of the Brisbane shipping channel. We had heard that two cargo boats were about to head into the channel so we followed them. Daybreak found us at the entrance to the Brisbane river and the Port of Brisbane. We passed though with no dramas and stopped at Rivergate to fill the diesel tanks. We meandered up the river to find there was no one anchored in “our spot”. So we are now back in New Farm, close to transport.
Time to get some sleep.