Sailing Down the East Coast
Well, I finally know the answer to that age old question, 'What would you do with a drunken sailor?' THe answer, my friends, is leave him on the beach.

I was in search of a ride share down the coast from Cairns to Townsville so I headed to the local internet cafes in search of postings on their message boards. There were quite a few rides offered, but what really caught my eye was that there were a few sailors looking for crew to share the costs of a trip down the coast. I had already taken the road up from Townsville by bus and wasn't too eager to see it all again, so I thought heading back down by sea would be a great expereince and save me from retracing my steps.

There was really only one add that totally suited me perfectly. For $35/day, a sailor of a small yacht was looking for 4-6 people to help him crew, cook, clean, and just share the journey down to Townsville for a week. THere were plenty of other ads, some going up north to Cape Tribulation and some just going out to a variety of ilands around Cairns and coming back, but this was ideal.

So I called up John, the owner of a former racing yacht, Inch by Wynch, and arranged to meet him and have a look at his boat. I'd never been on a yacht before in my life, so I didn't know what to look for, but I took it as a good sign that no water was leaking into the hull (if that's what its called) and there were no holes in the sails. THe only thing that stressed me out a bit about the whole thing was the creepy guy who had come the same day to check it out. He was thin with super tight, short shorts on, a button down shirt on, massive curly blond hair, and straight from a sheep station somewhere near Mildura. He joked about killing the captain if he wasn't cool. Not cool.

Fortunately, the scary man I'm met the day before didn't show up. In his place were a Scottish couple, an English girl, and an Israeli former navy captain. We were all in our early twenties and hit it off, so it wasn't lookng like it'd be as dodgy as I'd initially thought. None of us knew what to expect though, and none of us brought any chocolate or alcohol. Fools!

After a quick lesson in basic ropes, I was assigned to some sort of crank device attached somehow to one of the sails. I had to hold on to it every once in awhile and lower it down or pull it in occasionally. I really didn't catch on well to the sailing as I was convinced I was going to be decapitated by the boon (I think that's the thing on the bottom of the main sail that swings back and forth) and made my contributions on the tea-making and cleaning fronts.

The first few days were quite slow with not much wind, but we managed to get to Fitzroy Island for a bit of a hike and look around. The weather was beautiful, the sea was calm and the whole experience was really refreshing and relaxing, especially after a hectic month of partying in Cairns. John had met an Australian couple who were keen snorkelers and looking for a ride down to Dunk Island, so he offered them a lift. They were really into stars and navigation and gave us all a lesson which I promptly forgot.

On the way to Dunk Island we stopped in at Normandy Island for some of that snorkeling our new passengers were so keen on. I put on some basic gear and headed out for my first go at it and was blown away! The water was crystal clear, but what I loved the most was the calm feeling of bobbing up and down on the waves entertained by the movements of fish I'd never seen before. I got a bit gutsy after awhile close to shore and decided I should adventure out further. I felt comfortable as I moved further away from shore - until an unwelcome visitor crossed my path. It's all a big blur because I turned as fast as I could and swam all the way into shore without a look back - but I know I saw a shark and I know it had the same face and beatie little eyes as Jaws. Now, it was only about a metre long and probably a harmless reef shark, but when you see a Jaws face you freak, no matter how small it is. I've never swam so fast. It was freaky, but quite exhilerating! I'm not in any hurry to see another one, though.

Dunk Island was to be our next destination and on the way we managed to catch a couple of massive fish. We prepared an impromtu BBQ and salads for the island from our basic on board rations and ate beneath trees that felt the need to drop massive coconut-like fruit near our heads from 20 feet up. Not the most relaxing place to sit. We eventually made our way to the beach to try our hand at the Scottish guy's kite used for surfing. That's far harder than they make it look! I think I did it permanent damage by sending it barrelling to the ground after about 2 seconds being airborne. There's also an artist's colony set up here inland that we took a stroll to. It was fantastic with clay building sunder construction and excellent pieces of art on display... though I must admit that you did get the feeling that as soon as the tourists moved away from the camp the bongs would be lit up.

Eventually afer loads of rough sailing we made or way to magentic island. It was the first time we'd come across a place with all the food we craved and, even more important, the booze we'd held out on for so long. Almost imediately after arrival we all sat down to a cheap meal at Maggie's Beachhouse hostel. They served alcohol as well, so we all eagerly got into a few beers or wines. Captain John started on the pints of Guinness and miraculously finighed ten in about two hours. This qualified him as periletic and he, as any respectful drunk would do, demanded that we head on to another bar. Us girls refused and got the lads to drive us back to the yacht in the dingy. Though we advised against it, they decided to head back to land and meet the captain at the next bad for a few more drinks.

They eventually began asking John what made him decide to begin taking backpackers on these cruises... an innocent question. He replied "You think it's about the money?!?!? (punched a wine barrel) You think it's about the money!?!?! ... ok it is about the money!" Noone really knew what to make of this rant that they suggested heading back to the yacht. After getting the dingy ready yo sail, the captain had pretty mcuh passed out. He never would have gotten onto his boat and the boys decided to leave him on the beach with a blanket. When we met him on the beach the next morning he was alert, seemed embarrassed, and didn't mention a thing about the previous night.

I left the boat that night, but a few of my former crew mates had to stay aboard and help him John steer over to Townsville before heading back. I was happy to be rid of my binge drinking captain, but so pleased to have had a wonderful experience aboard a yacht along Australia's beautiful east coast.

Kirsty Henderson
August 2001