Emigre's Voyage to Tasmania - Leg 2 - Augusta to Albany

Augusta to Albany - Leg Two

A after a few beers, a pub meal, and a solid 12 hours of sleep, I was beginning to feel human again. Some say a crucial trait of any offshore sailor is a bad memory. If we really remembered how bad it was in the moment, none of us would go back to sea. I believe it’s called ‘type two fun’.

Waking up to warm sunshine on the cabin, Ash and I enjoyed eggs for breakfast, accompanied by tea and coffee, having already washed the boat down and hung our sailing gear out to dry. 

Ash decided it was a good idea to find a replacement crew for the next leg to Albany, giving her some time to fully recover from being green in the gills.

After sending a text message to a few mates looking for someone to join me at short notice, the phone rang with Steve and Abi on the other end of the line. They agreed, with about an hours notice, to join me for the second leg of my voyage from Augusta to Albany. They have sailed from Albany to Quindalup aboard Emigre before and I have crewed aboard their 32ft Jeanneau race boat for the Fremantle to Exmouth race in 2023. 

Dad agreed to facilitate the crew change, driving Abi and Steve to Augusta and picking up Ashlee to return back to Dunsborough.

With some time to kill. Ash and I started on a list of boat jobs. We cleaned the cabin and galley, serviced the rope feeder on the anchor windlass and oiled the timber toe rails. 

By lunch time, my crew were aboard and we prepared to depart Augusta Boat Harbour for Albany, slipping lines at 1250hrs. The passage started with a couple of hours of motoring through the minefield of cray pots before the wind filled in and we set a double reefed mainsail and number three jib. 

We worked in three hour watches with me taking the 1200-1500, Abi taking the 1500-1800, Steve taking the 1800-2100 and then me taking the 2100-0000, etc, etc.  This arrangement allowed us to spend three hours awake on watch and six hours sleeping or eating, making for a much less fatiguing passage. 

Watch duties included looking out for ships on the horizon and using AIS (automatic identification system), a method of broadcasting and displaying ships positions on a chart using a VHF radio signal. We took time every two or three hours to enter our position, speed, wind strength, and distance run into the ships logbook. These records not only allow us to accurately recall details of the voyage but provide an accurate starting point for beginning dead reckoning or coastal navigation should the electronic navigation systems fail.

The wind built overnight to a force five or six, pushing us along on a reach at about seven knots. As we rounded Point Nuyts and headed for West Cape Howe, the Southwest swells became more on our stern and the wind veered abaft the beam.  

We enjoyed a steady force six for most of the morning with the wind coming astern at lunch time and freshening to a force seven as we crossed Torbay and made course between Cove Point and Eclipse Island.  

We decided to rig the preventer to the double reefed mainsail and the polled out a reefed number three headsail. From the cabin looking astern, the thirteen to sixteen foot swells (4-5m) towered ominously over the stern, threatening to dump a few hundred litres of briny into the cockpit. Up until this point of the passage, we had all remained dry with no need for foul weather clothing. Unfortunately, for Abi, this changed rather quickly with a wave hitting amidships and delivering a bucket of cold water down her jacket. 

As we pressed on past Eclipse Island, the Aries Wind Vane (an old fashioned wind powered mechanical self steering device) worked hard to keep our stern to the weather and prevent us from an accidental gybe. Once abeam of Bald Head and with winds consistently at force seven, we decided to remove the spinnaker pole before completing a ‘granny tack’ and making course up King George Sound towards Princess Royal Harbour. 

Shortly after our course change Steve decided to unfurl some more headsail to get us moving unwind. It was at this point, Abi remarked about the black looming clouds over Bald Head and no sooner had Steve winched in the headsail, we were hit with a force eight wind and rain squall. Emigre immediately powered up and heeled sharply, rounding up into the wind. 

All hell broke loose on deck with the three of us climbing over each other, attempting to furl sails and get the boat under control. I called for Abi to quickly steer the boat downwind whilst asking Steve to ease the main sheet. This quick turn away from the wind combined with the easing of the mainsheet causes a reduction of apparent wind and wind pressure in the headsail, making it easier to furl. 

Despite our best efforts, we struggled to complete a very messy furl of the headsail and vowed to fix it in harbour. 

I started the engine as Abi spun the bow towards the wind, allowing me to drop the mainsail. We headed for the lee of Bald Head, closely hugging the steep rock face to have some protection from the fierce winds. Every wind wave washed the deck and cabin despite having only a couple of hundred metres of fetch. We set the electric tiller pilot and all three of us piled into the cabin, making barely four knots under motor into the wind and rain. 

We tied up in Albany Waterfront Marina as the squall abated, completely soaked and ready for a hot shower and a cold beer. The trip had taken just 27hrs with an average of 6.5 knots.  My friend Steve lent us a marina key so we could access the facilities as the office was closed.

After a freshen up, we could hear the pub calling our name. We clambered up the hill to Albany’s historic Earl of Spencer Inn and enjoyed piping hot beef and Guiness and cauliflower cheese pies and ice cold pints. An ideal way to wrap up a great trip. 

Emigre has now been hauled out at Emu point Slipway to rectify some structural issues prior to continuing her voyage to Tasmania.