Portland Road to Margaret Bay 133 nautical miles to Cape York, the very tip of Australia.
We left Portland Road and were cruising along having a lovely sail to Margaret Bay when a rain squall came through, bringing a few 30+ winds gusts with it. While Hubby was getting wet and fighting the helm to keep our course, I was downstairs at the chart table. No I wasn't. I was flying across the cabin. I was flung into the galley, on my back, legs in the air, like a rag doll. Every day has some kind of excitement ☺ .
Add to that, the convergence of 2 cargo ships passing each other just as we needed to cross the shipping channel at it's narrowest point, with reef on one side of us and a group of islands and a headland on the other. And our yachtie mates on Speakeasy about to pass us. It was a case of pulling sails in to slow down, changing course direction and hoping the ships pass us before we hit the reef. Second hit of excitement for the day.
When we rounded the headland into Margaret Bay we were excited all over again. It was stunning. Tree and rock covered hills, white sand as far as the eye could see, and a mangrove fringed beach. Cape York knows how to turn on the awesome landscapes. We were told there was a track from this bay to Indian Bay on the south side of the headland, so exploring we did go.
Two other yachtie couples joined us and we searched for the track. Once we found the start it was well marked with blue things. Blue rope, buckets, bottles, containers and the favourite, blue thongs. It was a meandering trail that took us through mangrove and teatree swamps and passed a perfect little lagoon, complete with lilly pads. We trudged through mud, pushed through chest high grass and ducked under low tree branches, all the while watching out for the green ants that were on everything we brushed against.
The start of the trail
the blue rubbish trail
After about an hour we hit sand again and found ourselves at Indian Bay. And found the source of blue things. There was so much detritus washed up on the shore, it was incredible. Plenty of driftwood and coconuts but also so much rubbish and, bizarrely, mostly blue rubbish.
On returning to Margaret Bay and back to our boats, we were shocked to hear that while we were on shore, the resident large crocodile cruising this bay had actually stuck his head up on the transom of Speakeasy- a catamaran that has been travelling with us. Needless to say, Carol and Glen won't be fishing off the transom again whilst we're in crocodile country. Just one more exciting moment to add to our days.
Until next time, Watusi Woman - flying sailor, out.
