Where To Now?

Under weigh again!

With an untried makeshift rudder, significantly smaller than the original, we felt it unwise to attempt the Coral Sea crossing to Cairns though that was still the ultimate objective.

Dave had been doing some research at home in Australia and he’d passed on information that there might be boat builder near Samarai Island in the China Strait. If so, they might be able to provide us with a permanent seaworthy replacement.

As Samarai was only a minor detour from the direct route to Alotau (where there was an airstrip, small seaport and enough commercial activity to make us believe there could be help there) we decided to make for there in the first instance.

The new rudder performed fairly well; being unbalanced it was a bit heavy on the helm and its smaller area limited how much sail we could safely run with. The autopilot would fight a losing struggle to hold a course with it so we switched to manual for the rest of the journey. Other than that, it was good to be moving again and we soon had the lines out looking to replenish our fish stocks, depleted during our short desert island ‘holiday’.

Shark bait

We could still just about see the anchorage at Duchateau Island when we had our first strike. Reeling in was proceeding easily when there were a few noticeable extra tugs on the line and a decidedly mauled mackerel tuna was brought aboard.

As we considered its condition, three grey-black shapes cruised to the surface in the dark water just off our transom – the sharks that had attacked our catch wondering where their potential snack had gone.

Samarai's dilapidated wharf

It was windless, grey and wet as we motored slowly up the channel towards Samarai Island in the early light of dawn, May 15. It was a discouraging sight – much smaller than I’d imagined and whilst the roofs of many buildings and substantial sheds attested to the islands long occupation and various roles as provincial headquarters of the pre WWII Australian administration of PNG and wartime seaplane base, they were now just relics. As we got closer we could see the sheds were dilapidated and the wharf was largely in ruins. A few local souls hung quietly around the remains of the dock apparently waiting for speedies to run them to Alotau or elsewhere.

We put ashore in the dinghy to see what we could find out. As we were technically re-entering PNG, the Customs officer was roused though he advised that we should warn in at Alotau. After we queried whether Samarai was still a Port of Entry he then seemed to think he ought to do some work that day and marched me off to his office to spend 45 minutes filling forms.

The people were friendly and helpful but the news was not good: there were no boat builders and the slip across the Strait had closed. However, it was suggested that our best bet might be to head to the end of Milne Bay past Alotau town to NAWAE Construction, an industrial yard on the coast that had a big ship slipway. Whilst we had seen nothing so described during our previous stop in Alotau and they weren’t answering the phone number we’d found in the Customs officers ancient Yellow Pages, Jeremy had a recollection that he’d seen something whilst exploring the area when waiting there for us to pick him up. The chart showed it was the end of the line, in many ways, but it was worth a look. It also meant we’d pass through the China Strait, a locally historic stretch of water named in the late 1800’s by Captain John Moresby as a shipping short cut around the eastern PNG mainland to points in the northern Pacific.

NAWAE Construction yard

Passing Alotau and motoring towards NAWAE’s reported location the coastline gave nothing away so there was a sense aboard that we might be heading to another dead end.

However, as we rounded a small headland before Stringer Bay we were presented with a picture of a serious operation; a heavy slipway with a ship in position and obviously undergoing some major work, an organized yard, and men in hard hats. There was even a small residential section with large houses on the waterfront and a jetty.

Franks Pier - our refuge in East PNG

Intriguingly, across the bay behind the yard we also noted the twin masts of a large sailing ketch tied up alongside a small pier. We anchored in front of the yard and went in search of help. Our plan at that time was to try and get the rudder properly rebuilt as quickly as possible and get Harlequin on her way to Australia again.

The helpful engineering staff at NAWAE agreed to have a look at the possibility and we dropped the blade again for inspection. However, it soon became apparent that their facilities and the limited availability of suitable materials locally would only produce another temporary fix and that at significant cost. A brand new rudder was the best solution but this would clearly take many weeks to procure. Unfortunately, as the crew had originally expected to be disembarking in Cairns two days previously, real life was now calling and there was no one with the time to remain indefinitely to babysit a yacht at anchor in this insecure location.

Fortunately, learning of our predicament the Doc at NAWAE arranged a meeting with the owner of the ketch we had spotted across the bay. It turned out that Australian cruisers, Frank & Leslie, lived aboard Tamilaini alongside the pier that jutted out from the estate of the owner of the local palm oil plantation.

Leg 6

After (I suspect) satisfying themselves that we weren’t hooligans or drug smugglers, they very generously offered for Harlequin to come alongside their pier and keep an eye on her until we could get a new rudder delivered to Alotau and sail away to complete the journey to Cairns.

But that's another story...

Steve.

Building a new rudder

What now...???

In daylight the boat was a bit of a mess. Lines from our 'drogue' and the various experiments to control the 'oar' filled the cockpit burying the ‘oar’ itself, stowed on the deck. The folding transom platform was just hanging on by one hinge, the other having broken under stresses from being used as a pivot for the 'oar'.

However, tidying up could wait. Safely on the hook and now able to relax a little, a wave of relief and exhaustion washed over us all and most headed for the bunk but not before Roger had thrust a bowl of steaming pasta into everyone’s hands!

Seagoon, one of the yachts we’d seen the previous afternoon was still in the anchorage and her skipper, Hans, soon headed over to enquire about the reasons for our return. It was decided that we would be better sheltered from wind and swell by re-positioning further into the anchorage and some local fishermen passing in their speedy duly obliged for some cash and a beer each.

A glance in their boat showed what they had been up to before coming to help us – shark finning. They seemed to be making efforts to conceal their haul as if conscious of the general disapproval that most westerners have towards the practice though we weren’t in any position to grumble at that particular moment.

The tow was not without a little drama of its own as an errant line fouled the speedy’s outboard prop just as we were squeezing through some coral heads in the entrance to the new anchorage. Fortunately, we were able to kill the speed with a bit of reverse from Harlequin’s engine and we didn't drift too far off line before the fishermen had their motor running again.

Harlequin, Seagoon and er... nobody!

Re-anchored about 75m from Seagoon and 150m off the beach in flat crystal clear water we were able to tidy up the ship and turn our thoughts to the rudder problem.

We knew we could coarsely direct the boat with the makeshift drogue system at about 2kts tops. This was OK for calmer open water but would be too hard to make progress in any sea – it was 500 miles to Cairns and rough seas were still forecast.

Bwagoia on Misima Island was 46 miles in a straight line but the way was obstructed by many reef systems. Besides, there wasn't likely to be much in the way of technical help there.

The distance to Alotau was 126 miles and offered a clearer track plus we’d already visited the town and based on that believed there would be more assistance available. However, it was over 2 days of continuous motoring away. A small voice then pointed out that before all that our biggest problem might be simply navigating unscathed through the coral heads surrounding our anchorage.

Loaded up with food and supplies for the planned Coral Sea crossing and with an onboard watermaker, we weren’t going to starve in a hurry but we really needed to see if it was possible to repair the rudder to make any of the journeys feasible and safe. Reconstructing the blade in situ underwater would be too hard so our first challenge was to drop the rudder and recover it to the deck of the boat.

With a suitable system of ropes, this actually proved to be fairly straightforward. Once disconnected and hanging free below the boat, a block and tackle off the end of the boom craned the heavy stainless steel frame up and over the hand rail and we manhandled it to the foredeck. With light and energy levels reducing we left it at that for the day.

With a night's sleep under our belts, we woke early the next morning with a purpose. An awning to give shelter from the sun was raised over the foredeck and a plan was hatched as to how we might reconstruct a working rudder.

The boys hard at work

Hans from Seagoon had already advised us that he had about 1 sq m of fibreglass cloth and some resin that we could have (read buy). The Skipper’s Bunk, a temporary platform that we’d built in the saloon for the cruise, and Pat's homemade ‘windscoops’ could provide some small ply sheets and a party headed to shore to see what else could be found on the island to assist. Marine adhesive and screws would hold it all together and the fibreglass cloth would tape and seal the joints.

The shore party came back with some usefully long lengths of partly shaped timber that Chris and Colin spent hours with our only handsaw painstakingly trimming them down to fit. Threaded into the frame, these ‘stringers’ provided the base onto which we could attach the ply panels. Glued, screwed and rounded off a bit with a heavy grit sanding disc (bought from Hans with the cloth and resin for AU$200 – I think he knew he was the only hardware store for 50 miles!) it was starting to look like it might do the job, provided we could actually re-attach it to the boat whilst afloat.

Tomorrow, we would apply what fibreglass we had and hopefully go for the refit. In the meantime, buoyed by our progress, it was decided that we should have a bit of a party and entertain the four crew of Seagoon, Harlequin style! Noise complaints from the neighbours would not be a problem.

Apart from some very sore heads in the morning, Roger and I managed to ‘glass the rudder successfully and by mid-afternoon it was ready to be rehung.

"Just don't let it go!"

Seagoon departed the anchorage for points east a little earlier in the day so we were now alone once more - at least they wouldn't have to hear our curses if something went wrong with the next stage. All our effort would be for nothing if we couldn't get the rudder reinstalled or we accidentally dropped it to the bottom of the lagoon in trying so we held a team meeting to discuss ideas on how to handle it. In the end we decided that reversing the system we’d used to remove the frame was the best approach. We also drilled a small hole through the new blade into which a line was fitted to serve as both a lifting point and a tether in case something went wrong with our untried process.

The new rudder in place

With Pat and Colin guiding things in the water and me overseeing the moves on deck, there was a focused silence as we dangled our ticket out of dodge over the side of the boat. With either luck or good planning on our side, when released to the cradle of supporting lines, the rudder swung nicely beneath the hull in an upright position with the top of the shaft only inches from the lower bearing hole. A few carefully coordinated cranks from the winch team on deck and the shaft rose slowly but surely into position.

A little while later the top of the shaft made it through the top bearing and there was a small cheer of relief as Jeremy wound on the big nut that holds it all in position. We’d done it! By the time we had reconnected the steering quadrant and made some adjustments, the light was too poor to attempt navigating out of the anchorage so we would spend another night and leave in the morning.

But where to next?

Steve.

Louisiades - Cairns… or maybe not!

Frequent friends

It was early afternoon on 10th May as we pressed into the steady ocean swell in the passage past the Duchateau Islands anchorage off Pana Bobai Ana Island.

We saw two cruising yachts, our first in many days, relaxing at anchor we assumed after their trip from the south. We learned later that Hans, the skipper of one of them had been trying to call us as we passed to discuss the weather he’d experienced but we’d got so used to being alone that the radio was off and we missed the chance.

The expected SE’ly winds were fresh and occasionally gusty to over 20kts from squalls moving in from the east as we headed out to sea. With a single reef and reduced Genoa we held good speed and course through a moderate 3m swell. By late afternoon the Louisiades were almost 20 miles behind us and we were being accompanied by a large pod of dolphins. Things were going well and the watches were getting themselves organized for the night shifts to come.

Then there was possibly a slight thump and the boat abruptly rounded up and continued beyond windward to a heave-to position lying uncomfortably across the swell. Moving the helm had no effect even though the twin wheel moved in unison with the inputs.

We dropped all sail and started the engine but the boat was still unresponsive and remained in its athwart swell position. An inspection into the transom compartment showed that the steering gear was attached and correctly moving there so we decided to put a crewman into the water for a look. This was not a popular assignment in the circumstances but with a lifejacket and security tether the job was done.

All that remained of the rudder below the hull was its internal steel skeleton; not much good for steering the boat anymore. Of course, it was now getting dark and beginning to rain!

We assessed the situation. Apart from the uncomfortable motion of the rudderless boat in the prevailing seas, the vessel was otherwise secure, we were in very deep water with reasonable sea room from both the reefs behind us and the shipping lane 10 miles to the west. However, we were being blown towards them.

The ability to advise people of our predicament with the satphone was a comfort (we spoke with the Australian coastguard to let them know of our problems) but with 500 miles of the Coral Sea between us and Cairns, and Alotau over 120nm to the west, it was clear we would have to recover the situation ourselves.

We resolved to explore ways of steering the boat and in the meantime hold offshore until the morning when, assuming we could regain some control, we would attempt to return through the reef passage to the nearest anchorage at the Duchateau’s, where we’d seen the other yachts. We experimented with various forms of makeshift steering systems including a spinnaker pole and board ‘oar’. Without a secure pivot point this proved very difficult to control and likely to damage the boat further or injure someone with the loads placed upon it in the seas.

The 'drogue' in action

We eventually found that a makeshift drogue affair, trailing a long weighted (with our spare anchor) line from a bridle hitched to both Genoa winches would permit us to hold a course at around 2kts under engine with an acceptable workload on the crew who, despite generally feeling tired, seasick and apprehensive, were working hard to keep things together and support each other.

Jeremy was down below handling comms and navigation, while Chris and Roger did a great job watching over us – throughout the night they made sure that the small but critical things like being clipped on, food, hot drinks and getting some rest weren’t overlooked in our efforts to control the ship.

We set a northerly course, timing our arrival at the passage for first light. However, the reef passage was affected by steep following swells. This made holding a steady course between the lines of surf breaking on the reefs to either side tricky, but with a combination of simultaneous drogue adjustments, remaining helm and occasional amounts of Genoa we got through into the shallow water of the anchorage and dropped the hook.

Good job team! We were now anchored off a deserted island in the middle of somewhere the Lonely Planet doesn't cover and with no rudder.

I called my wife on the satphone and told her I didn't think I’d be home in time for our wedding anniversary next week!

Steve.

Leg 6 Alotau - Louisiades

Leg 6 began early afternoon on Monday, 7 May as we cruised SE out of Milne Bay.

Darkness fell by the time we reached the charted shoals between Shortland and Hakalihi (Grant) Islands but we passed through easily enough before skirting south of the Engineer Group by night with just enough breeze to sail gently along. There are a few lit channel markers around the Shortland Reefs that offer back up to the GPS for confirmation of position and we used them as best we could.

Big bucks private island

The Ship Pass entrance to the Conflict Group permits a wide and easy entrance to the lagoon but to be sure we timed our arrival for dawn and made our way across to Panasea Island. Here we planned a short stop to visit Conflict Resort, a small and exclusive luxury island hideaway. We had no booking or invite but thought it worth a look.

The best anchorage in the conditions was actually off the N end of Panasea Island, back out through a narrow and shallow pass from the lagoon that was generating a turbulent overfall with the incoming tide as we motored through.

 

And airstrip

The private island resort (www.conflictislands.com) has its own grass airstrip, is well manicured with walking paths through the jungle and neat guest cottages looking out over a pure turquoise bay.

The easiest tuna I ever caught!

It's a ‘price on application’ hideaway and probably doesn't hope for ad hoc visitors like us. However, everyone we met was polite and inquisitive about our trip. The fishing in the area is excellent and as they had a surplus from the mornings outing we were given a super fresh tuna to restock the fridge!

Nivani Island approach

Not wanting to overstay our welcome we moved on towards our nights destination of Nivani Island in the DeBoyne Group.

After crossing the very busy north south shipping lane (Australia’s mineral wealth heading for China!) we entered the lagoon through the western passage and enjoyed a fine afternoon blast across to our anchorage just NW of Nivani.

Martin

Local elder Martin paddled out to meet us in his canoe. As well as trading for some limes, bananas, coconuts (and pearls), the following morning he also led us to the wreckage of a WWII Zero fighter lying in shallow water just a short swim off the beach. Chris even took his outrigger canoe for a spin.


We saw plenty of sailing outriggers in the area, many coming down to fish the outer reef from the bigger communities on Panapompom Island and just as we were leaving we managed a very quick morning trade with a passing ‘sailau’ for another bucket of crayfish.



From Nivani we headed out of the southern Nivani Passage for the crossing to Cormorant Channel and the entrance to the Panasia Island anchorage, our last planned stop before we would head for Cairns.

Fish were hitting the lures but unusually we were having trouble keeping them on the hook. Eventually we landed a nice Skipjack tuna that Colin elected to administer. Unfortunately, a last wriggle whilst he was de-hooking the catch saw it slip from his grasp and back into the blue! There goes dinner! Good job we had the crayfish.

'Fish o...

A jagged ridge of rock, rising from within a pristine lagoon, Panasia is a spectacular island. It is remote and generally uninhabited (there are a couple of temporary huts on the beach which were unoccupied when we arrived) which only adds to the sense of discovery as you approach.

'Er...fish off!'

The instructions we had on which was the best channel to pass through the reef were a little vague, even in the cruising guide, and we made an incorrect choice which led to us creeping over the narrow sandbar with just one foot of water below the keel at one point before making it through to deeper water.

A tense time for Pat on the helm with Chris’s diminishing depth readouts getting louder in his ears!

Once again, the mast spreader lookout position came in very useful for advising the helm on the hazards ahead and best route to take. From our eventual anchorage, the far deeper ‘correct’ channel was a more obvious, much closer to the island than the guidebook appeared to suggest and we noted it for our eventual exit.


A quiet night in a beautiful spot and a chance for us to review and prepare the boat and ourselves for the water we had to cross to Australia. We planned to leave Panasia the following morning, cross the lagoon and exit into the Coral Sea via a passage close to the west of the small Duchateau Island group, also uninhabited though there is a popular anchorage here for boats having just completed the crossing from Australia.

Panasia Island

A little over 500nm at 7kts would take us approximately 3 days and have us able to arrive in Cairns sometime on Mon 14 May to face the rigours of Australian Customs, Quarantine and Immigration. A quick satphone call ahead to confirm they had our previously emailed arrival information turned into a long call as it turned out they didn't and wanted all details of every crewmember read out over the line!

Expensive!!

Leg 5 - Madang - Alotau

Leg 5 kicked off on the 27^th April from the dock of the very welcoming and conveniently situated Madang Game Fishing Club, north eastern PNG, in bright sunshine with a fine view of the Karkar Island volcano.  There had been a bit of a crew change with some hands departing back to real life and new friends joining; Jim was releasing the reigns of Harlequin to Steve and Pat with Colin, Chris and Roger along as crew.  There was a slight concern about Chris who had had an insect bite that he’d picked up in Ninigo go very bad on him, necessitating a visit to the doctors in Madang and a night onshore in a comfy hotel bed.  However, he had the drugs, assured us he was feeling good and definitely seemed to be getting back to his old self so we pressed on with the plan.

Route Plan for Leg 5

Madang direct to the Trobriands via the Vitiaz Strait and Solomon Sea.  From there we would follow the surveyed channels on the chart through the Amphlett Group, Dawson Strait between Ferguson and Normanby Islands, Goschen Strait to Milne Bay and Alotau, overnighting on the anchor as required.

In Alotau we’d pick up another crewmember (Jeremy) to make 6 for the eventual Coral Sea crossing to Cairns, refuel and reprovision before clearing Customs and Immigration outbound.  Time permitting we’d head south east for a few days to improve the sailing angle to Australia and get a little taste of the Louisiades area before leaving PNG waters for the 500nm stretch to Cairns.

Madang – Vitiaz Strait

Leaving around mid afternoon and with a good breeze we soon put a few miles between us and Madang, the day closing with one of the typically spectacular sunsets we have been treated to on the Mega Cruz. 

The guide warned of strong tidal flows of up to 3kts against us in the Strait and suggested closing the mainland coast to within a half mile to minimize.  Come dawn this is what we did with a purpose and enjoyed a spectacular rolling show of coastal native life from just outside the reefs that line the shore.  The chart and guide suggests there are anchorages at Kelanoa Harbour and Kasseroa Lagoon and whilst they looked promising, we didn't have time to explore.  The scenery along this stretch is magnificently rugged with stepped and eroded ancient coral reefs giving way to humid peaks in the distance.  

As night fell we passed abeam the light at Kitumala Point and, under a starry sky, headed out into the Solomon Sea, Roger’s ‘Harlequin Cool’ playlist on the stereo.

Vitiaz Strait – Trobriand Islands

The entry to the Solomon Sea was peaceful enough but as the ITCZ typically wags its western tail in this area at this time of year it was unlikely to stay that way for long.  By breakfast we’d caught our first fish since Madang – a modest skipjack, had begun to feel the pressure from the developing SE monsoon (not great as that's the way we were headed) and looking ahead we could see the thick grey trunks of storm cells marching along with it.   

So followed a couple of days and nights of beating, reefing and dodging into the uncomfortably short sea kicked up by the gust fronts from the cells.  An added dimenson was the very busy shipping lane that runs straight through the area.  Unfortunately, during one of our storm preps we irreparably blew the repair to our reefing genoa that had been done by the upholsterer (not kidding) in Palau.  

Fortunately, we had a spare.

Dampened spirits were kept up by some top products from the galley (CM’s roast chicken dinner in particular) and we finally closed in on the Luscany approach to the Trobriands after 520 sea miles (to cover 360 crow miles).  A cheeky bird even hitched a ride for the last cold, dark and wet few.

 

It tends to shallow a long way out from the shore in the lee of the extended Kiriwina Island and the guidebook suggestion was far too exposed for our liking.  We found a good and quiet spot off the north shore of Muwo Island some way south.   

We were approached by a speedy with a full load of swarthy locals on board.  As a precaution we got all hands on deck to match their numbers but it turned out they were hoping that we might have some extra ‘zoom’ (petrol) to guarantee their trip to Alotau.  We had none but gave them all a beer and they went on their way.  However, we were generally left on our own in that spot.  


One day, we made the trek back up to the Boli Point channel entrance to Losuia and thanks to the telephone numbers in the Lonely Planet guide and a helpful chap named James (thats him on the left with the beer) we managed to tee up a boat ride into town for a look at the land of yams and free love!

The marked channel to Losuia ends at a rough jetty, on the way up we passed other speedies as well as outrigger canoes from the traditional villages being paddled or hand poled along.  Everything for the community comes through here and when we arrived it was teeming.  

A diesel shipment from Alotau was being unloaded, fish and bread was being hawked from boats, a boar on a pole and everything needed for betel nut chewing was on display. 

We did see this fellow with a pole full of poisonous puffer fish heading off home for dinner – we were assured by a local that ‘they know how to prepare them’ (sure I read somewhere that Japanese sushi chefs spend years learning that skill).  There were also a lot of the carved wooden items that the Trobriands are known for available for sale – funny that as we were unannounced tourists and it didn't seem like the locals were buying.  Maybe James had tipped someone off? 

We made a short walking tour of the town checking out the three local stores in the process.  They all sold only tinned foods, washing powder and soft drinks.  No cricket (only soccer), no free love, but plenty of friendly people.

 Trobriands - Amphlett Islands

We followed the surveyed channel on the chart south past several iconic desert islands, stopping for a swim and explore on the way. 

 

In contrast to the low sand cays, the Amphlett Islands stand tall and impressive with steep-to shorelines that make anchoring tricky.  

However, we eventually found a hold off the west of Gumawana Island (near the rockface in the picture) in 40ft with acceptable clearance from the many coral heads that sprout very close to the beach.  









Our searching for a spot had highlighted our arrival to the local village and we were soon busy with trade to top up our fruit and vegetable supplies as well as order some crayfish.  We wanted them that evening which meant delivery after dark but the local lads seemed reluctant to do this.  It emerged they were worried that we would shoot anyone approaching our vessel after dark!  Apparently it had happened.

 

They came back later that night as agreed bearing some wonderful crayfish.  We shared a starlight beer and a cigar (they actually preferred their own rollups using newspaper!) with these very amiable young men and listened to some of their own home recorded music (on a old cassette player!).  

In the morning we serviced the electric motor in the windlass as it had become a bit erratic in operation and with the depths we were usually forced to anchor in we needed it working well to avoid the backbreaking manual lift of chain from the depths.  We then proceeded further south towards the D’Entrecasteaux Islands and the Dawson Passage.

Amphlett Islands – Alotau

The channel south proved easy to navigate and reliably charted.  The narrower east entrance to the Dawson Strait between Normanby and Ferguson Islands soon opens into a wide clear channel with significant communities on either shore.  

There are good mobile phone comms all along.  The cruising guide suggests strong tidal flows at times but we made our passage at slack water and saw little current.  As our plan was to continue overnight to reach the head of Milne Bay at dawn we decided to anchor briefly for dinner near the jetty at Es’ala Anchorage on the south side of the Strait.  Sailing boats must be a more regular feature here as no one visited us.

We exited the Dawson and entered the Goschen Strait in bright moonlight.  The unsurveyed area on the south side of the exit is annotated with vague reports of an unmarked reef extending some way out to sea. Tentative exploration close to the edge of the surveyed channel suggests that it does indeed shoal quickly and a useful reminder that the depth of the seabed is extremely variable in these parts.  Proceed off the beaten and surveyed track with great care! As soon as we cleared the exit and its hazards we set a course for the light on Meimeiara I off the end of East Cape which marked the next set of reef passages into Milne Bay. 

Entering Milne Bay from the Goschen Strait requires careful navigation through one of a number of narrow, shallow reef passages.  

 

 
Further south the east-west passages are deeper and marked with beacons and radar reflectors (eg Raven Channel), however, from our approach direction it was quicker to squeeze through either Hornbill or Jackdaw Channel. With a bit of care and Colin’s view from the mast spreader lookout we slipped through Jackdaw without difficulty in 30ft and were soon cruising towards the head of Milne Bay and Alotau.  The markers in Hornbill are obvious and it saves a few miles.  However, as first timers the charted depths made us wary.

  
En route to Alotau early on the 6th May, we then enjoyed a terrific display of seabirds attempting to swoop down behind and chase down the many flying fish spooked into flight by our passage.  It seemed to be a race that the fish won more often than not with a knack for reentering the sea just as the birds were within inches behind.

Alotau

As we approached close to Sanderson Bay looking for an anchorage we had a close encounter with the remains of a submerged palm tree.  Strong vibration from below indicated we had badly fouled the propeller but were now drifting towards a concrete seawall.  Quick work by the crew got the main ready to raise and fenders over to protect against the closing shore.  At the same time, Pat grabbed the mask and knife we keep close to the helm for such events and went over the side to clear the debris so we could resume motoring to anchor.

Eventually we anchored in a good spot just to the west of the entrance to Sanderson Bay and just out from the WWII memorial (Alotau was the site of a significant battle for the Gurney airstrip).  Everywhere else was steep-to a lee shore and most uncomfortable!  It is sheltered here from the prevailing SE’rly and associated chop as well as giving easy access to the services of Alotau town.  Fuel, markets, banks, some hotel compounds and the Customs office are all within a short walk of the memorial.  There’s not much in the way of restaurants but a few miles further down the coast on the way to the airport the steak and chips at the Driftwood Resort is highly recommended!

Leg 5 covered approximately 550 nautical miles from Madang to Alotau in 10 days.  It had a bit of everything; inclement weather, beautiful islands, tricky passages and charming people.  Bring on Leg 6, Alotau to Australia via the Louisiades!

Steve