Along the way dad sends us weather-updates via satphone text. It’s looking like we are going to get some very gnarly weather soon. 30-40 knots of headwinds for the rest of our 800NM to Hobart. It would take us a long time to get there, and even worse, since there is no protection from land it means bashing into waves that keep building up. With a cracked porthole, jury rigged steering cables and the slowness of a heavy long keeler – that is not something I am looking forward to.
So we started heading closer to shore in hope of catching some milder winds, but we’re also aware of strong currents along the Australian coast. A day before the southerlies are supposed to show up we’re sailing along in a strong northerly, about 25-30knots. I decide that we couldn’t continue like this if the forecast remains unchanged.  So I change course towards Port Kembla, which is the closest port of entry. During the next night the winds shift and we can’t keep our course even on a close haul. We’re bashing into waves, making little progress and trying to keep track of all the big monsters ( freighters) that are heading out of Port Kembla to different places in the world. We’ve got only about 80NM to go but at this pace (barely 3kn) and not even on course…. it would take us at least another whole day or even two – with north westerly winds blowing and a strong northerly current.
I sit on my night watch for a long moment thinking what is best to do now… then get up to let the sails out and steer Anna Rose down the waves to head further south – at a speed of 7-8 knots now! Attempted destination: Jervis bay. Although it’s not an official port of entry, they clear yachts if there is a good reason for it – I’m not too certain what a “good reason” would be but hope our situation is serious enough and that they won’t get upset with us.
Sailing is good on this course now – quite wet and rolly but fast and towards a safe bay which should provide good shelter for the coming strong southerly winds.
Dawn reveals land in sight already and I manage to get in contact with the authorities to explain our situation. They seem very understanding. … Then I have a closer look at the map, and find a great section marked as “military practice grounds’ right on our path into Jervis bay!
“Oh dear…!” That means we’re not allowed to cross that section – but if we don’t, to avoid that section we’ll have to go down wind first and then back north into 30kn of wind plus the current. We wouldn’t get there for a long time yet and the porthole is still a worry if beating into waves. “Oh darn! Land so close that we can see it, but so hard to reach! Why do they have to practice right in front of our nose?!” I’m not happy…

I contact the Jervis Bay marine rescue (JBMR) and ask whether they are training today and – if not – whether we could sail through.. I don’t think anybody would be out in such weather, but… they are!, practicing – which means shooting. To calibrate their weapons the navy shoots at targets on the northwestern peninsula of Jervis bay. We’d sail right under their bullets if we’d try to cross…

A helpful fellow from Jervis Bay marine rescue says we can try to call the navy on VHF but also that they don’t usually answer. Which we soon find to be true. But as he hears us try without success, he calls them up himself, explains our situation and they agree to let us pass, without any bullets flying over our mast. Wow! We definitely didn’t expect such helpfulness!
That helps us to get into the bay about 4 hours later, but not into more sheltered water, as expected. The waves are lots less but the wind funnels trough the bay so that we have to take down more sail and the wind still keeps us heeled hard.
Once moored we smell good food besides the standard australian perfume of eucalyptus scent. Customs won’t clear us till next morning though as it is to rough for them to come aboard. So close to the good food but can’t get it yet… 🙁
The day ashore is a very welcome change after 17 days sailing. There’s good food that we craved for and for uninterrupted sleep too. It seems as if the strong southerlies will prevail for a week which makes it timely impossible for us to finish this trip. What an annoying thing, to do half a job – we both feel that way. We go online in a cafe and find that the weather forecast changed since yesterday. Crossing the Tasman sea suddenly looks as possible as it rarely ever does – with rather too little wind in fact. Although we kind of settled our minds on “done with this”, Laura and me get exited at this chance to finish what we’ve started. And this little break of a day was the perfect amount of recovery and re-stocking with food that we needed.
Next day: about 25nm south of Jervis bay we fill our fuel tanks at a busy fishing port in Ulludulla – to be able to make good speed in windless days so that we can outrun the next gale.
We sail some of the next couple of days whenever we can or use the engine to push us through a “sleepy” Tasman sea. We’ve heard a lot about it’s infamous character and Laura even knew a family of sailors that disappeared when they attempted to cross that sea a few years ago.. Thank God that it is nothing like that for us. Dolphins show up in heaps but don’t care about our bow much. Freighters show up in heaps too (until we leave the Australian coast) and luckily they stay away too. The sun keeps painting the skies for us twice a day and soon again we smell something like eucalyptus. Tasmania rises out of the water wildly. What a sight.
A day before we could have arrived in Hobart, strong southerlies force us into a sheltered bay again. On our way towards shore we spot a mount in odd colors, like pink, red, violet… “World of wonders!”, I think and wonder about the reason behind these colors. Someone in Hobart tells us later that this mount is one of the sights on this coast to observe at sunset.
We drop the anchor in the dark and – what we don’t know at this stage is that – Simon and Rosie ( Anna Roses owners) watch us from ashore as they spend a night in their camper van. It’s magical for them as it has been uncertain whether we’d make it to Hobart or not, but now as they see us anchor below the stars, a bright shooting star even passes over us – to them a sign that all’s going to be fine!
The anchor holds as good as a mooring in 40kn of wind plus gusts even much stronger the following day. Even in the bay. Great design that Rocna anchor. We leave the bay in the early morning after the 2nd night. There’s a passage with shallow sandbanks that we’ll have to pass at high tide ideally and after that the man-made Dennison channel. It turns out easy enough although we’ve got lots of wind on the nose. Good that Anna Rose’s engine is a work horse. 120 horses strong. Once in the channel we remember places in Holland for some reasons and dwell in memories. The current is extreme in the channel and at the small turning bridge it funnels through and rushes through the row of posts that makes me wonder how much more until they brake. We’re glad the current is against us, not with us. Good chance it would make you unable to steer and end in a disaster.
We arrive a few hours later in Hobart and meet Simon and Rosie for the first time. How nice to see them so happy to have their boat back. It makes it all worth even more!
At the yacht club we meet the commodore and Laura talks business with him about the presentation that evening. I’m so glad that I don’t have to strain my brain that day no more. My girl can go far if needs! I wonder sometimes how deceptive appearance can be. She’s such a …well, a rather small and lean girl – but never the less, there’s some serious HP (horsepower) in that young heart! One wouldn’t call her Guppy in that respect for sure.
We fly out without delaying much so that we only get a day to stroll through beautiful Hobart with all its odorous gardens filled with trees and flowers of kinds that give the town a mediterranean feel. A great way to finish one of life’s adventures. Funny how the most ordinary and seemingly “small” things in life are the greatest rewards for extraordinary labor and solitude.

Laura