Momentous day on October 10^th since we flew down from Coffs Harbour to Melbourne to get back to Anui. The next morning, we were leaving Wyndham Harbour for good to start sailing her home.

The return on board late on Saturday afternoon was a peak of activity heightened by the fact we had a short weather window to leave first thing on Sunday morning, ahead of a strong westerly change. If we missed it we would be stuck in Port Phillip Bay for a week, so we had a pile of tasks to complete in just a few hours. Of course, our departure the next day was dependent on what all our system checks would reveal. So the pressure was on and we both felt more than a little flustered, wondering whether we still wanted to play this game.

However, amazingly, everything worked out: hulls, engines, batteries, instruments, electrics were all fine… We spent a bit too much money on Ubers to and from the airport, to and from town for provisioning, and we were running around like headless chooks, but by 10.00pm everything was done, the boat was clean, tools, gear and food put away, and we crashed into bed. We did have a rough night with body aching, mind uptight, feeling anxious and sad as one crew member is missing: our pussycat Bengie.

By 6.30 am on Sunday morning, both with a pit in the stomach and major need to go to the loo, the engines were warmed up, Wade untied the mooring ropes, Chris put the motors in slow reverse, and we glided out of the berth Anui had called home for 10 months. We were on our way! No photos, no looking back… we are outta here!

We still had a few things to check along the way: AIS, navigation instruments, auto pilot. But little by little everything got sorted and the pressure diminished. Instead of focusing on the chores, we started noticing the birds, the smells, the seascapes, the movement as we passed through the Heads and entered Bass Strait for a beautiful long sail.

Friends ask ‘how does it feel to be back on the water?’ Well, it is actually just like it used to be. We know our stuff, we know the boat, we have our habits, we haven’t forgotten our processes, so it is all familiar and ‘normal’, except for one thing: we are doing it without our Bengie.

You think you are okay. She passed away 9 months ago… the grief is not as sharp as it first was… but that’s until you get back to her ‘domain’. The wave of sorrow hits you hard, swamps you, tumbles you straight back to that dreadful day … and the wound is raw again.

In our mind’s eye, she is here on board with us, being her usual demanding self: looking straight at us, loud, insistent, cheeky, and we think… ‘gee we miss her’ and that feeling is so much more intense on Anui. 

We are hoping to be able to go south to the Bass Strait Islands and deal with the unfinished business of scattering her ashes. We are intending to do this at Key Island Bay on Cape Barren Island where she ran around many times in her life, including in her last year.

But the weather is not exactly cooperating and we have a deadline: Anui is booked for a haulout at The Boat Works on 30 November for an insurance survey and service. Although it is seven weeks away, with the northerly winds already established, it could be a hard slog to get back up, waiting for SW blows to make progress northward! So we are watching the forecasts carefully and will see how things develop. Touch wood, lots of wood!

The sail along the Bass Coast

By 10.30 on Sunday, we had motored through the RIP and by 11.00 am, the breeze had picked up. We raised the main and jib, turned the engines off and breathed as Anui sailed off, humming. She has her freedom back. She is behaving… everything works. The stress comes down another notch. Since leaving Sandy Beach it has been a series of gradual decompressions as everything has fallen into place and we have got off to a good start. 

On this voyage we are minimising stress, which requires being a little kinder to ourselves even if it means more flexibility and less ambitious plans. We are not inclined to push ourselves hard; our tolerance for frustration, discomfort and pressure has diminished a lot. It was not that high before but it’s even less now. Living on land has shown us one thing: we have felt less tense and better physically. We are not into taking backward steps. Making our life easier is the way it’s got to be if we want this part-time cruising to work.

With an eye on the forecasts, the itinerary changed as we were sailing along. We soon decided to skip an overnight stop at Phillip Island and instead to head straight for Wilson’s Promontory. Initially we thought we would get to Waterloo Bay in the wee hours of the morning, sleep in then move onto Sealers Cove to hide from the Westerly blow. But as the conditions strengthened early and we were making great progress, we kept going and went straight to Sealers, dropping the anchor there by 2.00am, after a 19^1/2-hour passage from Wyndham Harbour.

The highlights: Seeing the many albatrosses soaring, one of the pleasures of being in Bass Strait, and enjoying a trouble-free and very pleasant sail in sunny, mild weather.

Monday was a recovery day, in windy and soggy conditions. We definitely had made the right choice. Nobody likes to sail in the rain and 30 knot winds, especially after several months on land!

We stayed put on Tuesday. With 50 knots at the Prom at the lighthouse and intermittent rain, we were not leaving our protected anchorage! And the 10^oC temperature in the morning was a good excuse to run another piece of equipment: the diesel heater. Yap, we did a good impersonation of a steam train, but we got warm!

Believe it or not, it’s nice to just potter around, float about listening to the wind. Chris has spent a little time writing, sorting through photos, putting this post together; Wade has been plotting our next move and giving Anui a bit of TLC… you know, wiping her clean, making her shine… Just the usual amount of fuss from our boat-proud skipper!

With unfavourable winds to reach the Bass Strait Islands, we headed instead to the Gippsland Lakes, using a short window to get there on Wednesday. It was a 2.30am departure – no light from the New Moon but a splendid Milky Way. We hoped we would not meet any whales during the night! Most of the Humpback Whales migrate south to Antarctica along the East Coast of Australia at this time of year so the Victorian coast should be safe. But it might be a different matter once we cross the border into NSW… a risk for later in our voyage!

As is often the case after a blow, the wind disappeared all together and we ended up motor-sailing all the way. We crossed the infamous bar at Lakes Entrance in the early afternoon.

We spent a couple of days in Paynesville, caught up with a few friends and studied the weather yet again.

It turns out we could either sit at the Lakes for 10 days waiting for the northerlies to switch to the SW and let us get around into NSW, or we could use the NE to head south straight away and get down to Key Island Bay.

You can guess what we are doing: we will take our chances and head for the islands tomorrow!