The final leg: New Caledonia to Queensland

Photo courtesy of Moonshiner

Monday 13^th November, Rivergate Marina, Brisbane, Australia.

Brisbane!!!!!!!!! We're back! Very exciting and very weird at the same time. We docked at 1800 last Wednesday, got checked in and allowed ashore on Thursday, found a microbrewery, caught up with the Masters, the Chens and half the crew of Matilda, had a Bunnings sausage sizzle, took the Citycat to town, visited West End and now I'm packing to head to Perth on Wednesday. All a bit hectic really.

Karl sets the world record for dock to sausage sizzle.

Leaving New Cal, after we checked out of Nouméa, we headed down the lagoon to Amédée island, right beside the channel, to position ourselves for a quick getaway once the weather was right. Amédée is a tiny little island with a very impressive lighthouse opened in 1865. It was manufactured and assembled in Paris for structural and wind testing, then disassembled and shipped to New Caledonia where it took 9 months to reassemble on Amédée. During the day the island is invaded by visitors that come on the Mary D from Nouméa but they leave mid-afternoon and then we sailors have it all to ourselves. Moonshiner and Curly were anchored beside us so we went ashore and made ourselves at home on the deserted beach furniture for a final night's sundowners. Then we had a very impressive bbq (with real fire, none of that gas nonsense) on Moonshiner rounded off with a delicious drop of Glenmorangie. The perfect end to our final anchorage of the trip.

Just as we were upping anchor at Nouméa this came by at very close quarters.

Amédée and its lighthouse.

View from the top of the lighthouse of Gráinne and Moonshiner at anchor with the New Cal mainland on the horizon.

Remora fish hitches a ride

There were loads of sea snakes on the island (mating season we think), I'd only ever seen them in the water before. One of Curly's crew was distinctly unimpressed.

After everyone has left for the day.

A Last Supper on Moonshiner.

We had an absolutely beautiful sail from New Cal. Just lovely. The Universe was very kind to us – blue skies, gentle breeze, calm seas and nothing (nothing!) broke [Karl: well, the engine battery died, but we survived]. The fleet had a daily e-mail trivia competition and Gráinne won every day! (well, we drew for first on a couple of days). We arrived at the entrance to Moreton Bay with perfect timing first thing Wednesday morning and spent the rest of the day sailing through the bay past our old stomping grounds of Bulwer and Tangalooma on Moreton Island. It felt as though we'd never been away and were just taking a typical long weekend sail down from Mooloolaba. The officer on duty at Brisbane VTS (the marine equivalent of an air traffic controller) was an Irish lady, Hillary, who we've enjoyed listening to many times over the years. We got a lovely little thrill when we called her and she pronounced Gráinne Mhaol like it was the most natural thing in the world – that doesn't happen every day. The tide was with us (I really think the Universe was trying to apologise for the previous couple of trips) and we were hooning along and made it up the river in time to dock just before sunset. 

Beautiful sailing conditions - we even got the main up!

Using up the last of the good French cans before Australian biosecurity get their hands on them.

For one day's trivia Silver Chief challenged the fleet to write a poem about Karl bbqing. Here are some of the results:

Grainne (there was a five line limit - Karl pushed it a little)

1. The magma perches dutifully on the push-pit rail,

      in expectant await of the master

2. Lo! He appears, joyous sparkling of eyes,

     reflecting the night sky's raster

3. Replete with sacrificial kebabs,

     tongs, oil, tinnie and snags,

   he releases the gas with a twist of the wrist,

      an exultant hiss, a delicious kiss, a marinaded fish; liberation!

4. Click, click! A symbiotic dance, a perfect romance, spark and gas entranced,

       in a mortal embrace, in a box encased

5. His pulse quickens, the sausage sizzles,

   the Pleiades applauds, Orion explodes,

   the heavens weep, in jealousy deep,

   mute witness to keep;

     bbq perfection.

Tethy

As the sun begins to set

Karl brings out the brisket 

The charcoal has a perfect glow

And so starts the BBQ show 

Beluga 

Juicy ribs on the BBQ glazed to perfection,

From the cellar a gorgeous wine selection,

Fresh lobster tails in the oven steaming, 

Wake up Karl, you‘re on a crossing and just dreaming.

Curly

What is that smell coming from grannie Mhaol,

Karl is BBQing haggis, he should be in jail. 

An Irishman grilling can never be nice, 

We’d prefer to be on the Titanic, heading straight for the ice. 

Moonshiner

Karl, the captain of feasts, sails his boat,

Flames dance on the grill, casting a fiery coat.

The scent of sizzling meat, tantal aizing note,

Amidst the waves, he barbecues with glee and rote.

With each savory bite, his culinary prowess afloat.

After four and a half years Moreton Island appears on the horizon.

Sailing up river past the Port of Brisbane.

Finally safely tied up at Rivergate Marina beside the Gateway bridge.

And then we slapped ourselves on the back, popped the champagne and settled on deck for sundowners. Friends came by to say hi but the closest they could get (because we were still in quarantine) was to walk up the Gateway Bridge and wave down at us. First thing the next morning I had just settled myself in the cockpit with a big foamy mug of real coffee, still in my pyjamas, when five Border Force officers turned up. They handed me a couple of arrival cards and said that once I'd filled them out they would come aboard to complete the paperwork. It seems obvious now that that was their very nice way of giving me a chance to properly dress myself but in the midst of my sleep deprivation this didn't dawn on me at all. So that's how I did the final check in of the trip – in my pyjamas. And since then it's all been a bit of a daze of sleep deprivation and busy-ness mixed with a hefty dose of "I can't believe we're really back in Brisbane with Gráinne".

When your last port of call was French you get to have a little something nice on board for celebrations.

Photo courtesy of Katrina Masters - Gráinne is tied up on the outside between the two big boats.

In other news Sonrisa got into Southport a day ahead of us, Moonshiner arrived a day later in Coffs Harbour, Silver Chief have arrived in Bundaberg straight from Fiji and poor Mac are currently battening down the hatches and crossing all the fingers as they prep for cyclone Mal who's heading for them in Fiji (second cyclone of the season and it's only mid-November, crazy). For us the plan from here is to spend a few weeks in Perth replenishing the kitty, we'll spend Christmas in Sydney and then we'll come back and move Gráinne up to Mooloolaba via a couple of weeks cruising in Moreton Bay. And then Karl will, ahem, get a job.

For absolute über nerds, this is what our daily SSB (HF radio) calls to Gulf Harbour Radio, New Zealand sound like