Be Careful What You Wish For...

I’ve been bitching and moaning that I’ve had nothing to blog about.  Woo hoo, my prayers have been answered… in the form of a flood.

Late Saturday afternoon we were warned by another boat yard occupant that by Sunday night or Monday morning we may need to leave our pontoon at the boat yard.  You may think a pontoon is a pretty good place to be but unfortunately our 17 tonnes pulling against a pontoon will tear it from its grounding and then our boat and the pontoon would make their way down river together. 

On Saturday evening, Michael went to the petrol station and got fuel for the generator and a couple of bits and pieces… milk, bread, etc with plans to get a few more things on Sunday.

Saturday night was absolutely pouring down and as our automatic bilge pump is not working, I stayed up all night emptying the bilge every 10 minutes.  At 5.30am, first light, I looked out the window to find all of the ground between the pontoon and the boatyard office was under water.  I then saw Andrew wading waste deep in water towards us.  I went out on deck where Andrew told me “it’s time to go”.

Boatyard Shed at 5.30am Sunday

The same shed earlier today

(Photo courtesy of Alan Hicks)

Michael started up the motor and Andrew untied (or more accurately… cut) us from the dock and gave us a shove.  Michael turned with the current and headed down river towards Devil’s Elbow… we may have been travelling with the current but we were travelling against the wind.  With the rain still pissing down, the wind in our faces and the current carrying us at about 10 knots, the rain became a real pain in everything.  It stung my legs like thousands of tiny needs and burned my eyes, making it impossible to see.  Michael did his best at steering with his eyes closed whilst I stood up at the bow with the boat hook trying to move large debris out of the way. 

About 10 mins into the trip, I went inside to empty the bilge and looked at the motor temperature.  We were overheating.  Michael eased off the throttle and basically let the tide just take us.  It took about 30 mins to make it to Devil’s Elbow and we anchored on the inside bend… the outside of the bend having the faster running current.

I was buggered.  I hadn’t slept in over 24 hours (whereas Michael had got in a massive 2 hours sleep the night before), so I had a nap.  Michael was watching our anchor to make sure we weren’t dragging and also trying to keep debris from hitting us.

A couple of hours later I awoke and to my relief, the sun was shining!  I went out on deck for my shift of debris fending.  What an array of objects you find floating down the river.  Grace was sitting on deck making a list.

·         Drum (musical)
·         Helmet (bicycle)
·         For sale sign
·         Road marker
·         Tyres
·         Watermelon, etc

During my debris fending shift, Michael was looking at the motor as it had finally cooled enough to touch and was trying to work out why we were overheating and losing coolant by the bucket load.

… then I saw it.  A pile driving rig, unattended, floating and spinning down the river. I called to Michael and a couple of minutes later a yachtie anchored on the other side of the river got in his tinny  and came over to us.  “That rig is unmanned, best you move”.  Unfortunately we had not yet sorted out our overheating problem and had half the motor on deck rending us immobile.  “Can’t mate.  No motor!  We’ll just have to try to fend it off”.

Runaway Rig

Knowing we didn’t have a hope in hell of fending off 50 tonnes with a boat hook and an oar, I ran inside and told the kids to get their life jackets on and to grab one for Dad and me.  I grabbed passports, wallets and the ipad and put them in a ziplock bag.  I then placed it in the “emergency grab bag” at the saloon doors.  It was at this point that the kids started to panic a little (okay… Jed didn’t give a shit and Grace panicked a lot).

I went back up on deck to see the progress of the rig and found the yachtie who had warned us and another tinny pushing at the rig and directing it away from us.  I looked a Michael and just about sobbed with relief.  I can generally hold things together in a crisis but when it’s over I’m as soft as pudding!

I don’t know who either of those men were… but I do know, without a shadow of a doubt, they saved our boat (our home) from certain destruction and possibly (probably) saved our lives.  I will be forever grateful that they put themselves in danger in order to save us.  

Runaway house boat complete with it's own block of land

I continued to fend the debris while Michael started putting the motor back together… without solving our overheating problem.  Nothing was stopping a gum tree that hit us, caught our anchor chain and started dragging us down river.  Michael started the motor (even though our overheating issue had not been solved).  Grace jumped in the anchor well and was raising the anchor and I was trying to remove the tree from our anchor chain.  The anchor got to a point and refused to budge so I told Grace to pull at it from the anchor well.  The awkward position meant she burnt her arm on the anchor winch motor... but the tough little cookie didn’t stop.  She whinged at me and kept pulling until I could take over from her.

The motor was overheating before we even got the anchor raised… very worrying indeed.  But we did manage to remove all the debris from our anchor chain and motor down river a little to another anchoring spot.  I took over the helm and Michael dropped the anchor.  As the anchor bit, the stern of the boat swung violently around so that the current was again hitting the bow.  I could only hope the anchor held because if it didn’t there was no way I was getting the boat back under control.  Thankfully, it held.

Michael and I spent the rest of the day fending off debris in shifts until it was too dark to see anymore.

At 4.30 on Sunday morning, after a much needed sleep for everyone, something hit us with a great deal of force and started dragging us down river again.  Michael and I raced outside to find we were travelling backwards down river at about 5 knots.  I started the still unfixed motor as Michael raised the anchor.  Again the anchor was not coming up and we were spinning down the river, hitting banks and low hanging trees.  This would probably have been a good time to start praying but I stood hard and fast to my atheistic ways and, as tempted as I was, I did not attempt to bargain with God.

Steering having absolutely no effect with the anchor dragging, I decided I would be more useful helping Michael raise the anchor.  Together we managed to get it out and headed for the other side of the river as the bend was snaking back the other way.  We anchored and shortly afterwards a tinny came up to us.  It was a couple from a house across the river, Tracey & John.  They gave us their number and told us if we needed to abandon ship, to call them, they would come and get us and we could stay at their place. 

All day we have watched Tracey & John and one of their neighbours, in two tinnies, chasing down large items floating down the river… boats, concrete blocks, pontoons… and nudging or towing them and securing them out of harm’s way.  It’s going to look odd when the water subsides and there are concrete blocks and pontoons tied to the tops of gum trees!

I’ve met some bloody fine people during my sailing travels, and during this flood I’m lucky to say I’ve added a few names to the list …. as well as a few nameless faces.

 

Happy New Year

Well karma finally came back around our way.  After hours of online research, wiring diagrams, calls to the manufacturer of the motor, swearing and the occasional kicking of stuff, a friendly chat with a couple of lovely ladies in the laundry at the Sandy Straits Marina revealed that one was married to a retired auto electrician.  He, Bob, came straight over to have a look at why our motor was not starting. 

At a glance, all the wiring seemed to be in the right places, linked to the right connections but there was no denying the motor wasn’t starting.  A more in depth look was required.  Within no time Bob discovered the wiring was faulty and needed replacing.  Michael and Bob replaced the faulty wires, turned the key and the most beautiful sound known to a stranded, frustrated and almost broken yachty cut through the air.  Okay, okay… most of the time we prefer the noise of the flapping of sails to that of a noisy motor, but when you haven’t been able to move for a month, it was as joyous as hearing a baby laughing or children playing.  I cried!  I cried tears of sheer relief.

I have so far failed to mention our new yachty friends.  We’ve met a fantastic family who had just a month earlier bought their first yacht, a trimaran called Tradewind.  A family of 6… Mum and Dad, 4 kids aged between 5 and 12, 1 dog and 2 cats (and I thought we were fucking crazy).  For the first time on our journey, the kids have someone to play with, both Michael and I have someone to play with and even the dog has someone to play with.  A couple dinners, many wines, more laughs and we become quite close very quickly. 

 

Then it happened… as it happens to all boat owners, their first problem reared its ugly head, and it’s a major one.  Wood rot.  They were taking on water, a lot of water.  They, like I’ve done on so many occasions, cried.  Scared they’d made the wrong choice and that their family home was now sinking, they would be homeless with 4 children, 1 dog and 2 cats.  As ready as we were to move on, we were not going to leave these new sailors in the lurch.  We managed to do a very bodgy patch job, good enough for them to make it from Hervey Bay to Maryborough about 40 nm away on the Mary River.

Much preparation was required prior to the trip.  Michael and Alan had to come to the slipway and build a customised trailer to get Tradewind out of the water.  They were given the materials and use of all the tools at the slipway.  A couple of days later, they had the trailer built so we could start our journey to beautiful Scaryborough Maryborough.

The trip wasn’t completely uneventful and for the first time in quite some time we hit a damn sandbar.  We got off our boat and onto Tradewind to wait for the tide to rise. 

 

My boat fell down!   Things were falling off the deck and as the tide was low Michael and Alan were wading through the water retrieving our things.  I was online looking for the tide times in the area and found out that’s where a couple of crocs had been spotted and that traps had been set up there.  No need to tell the boys… I need them to collect the stuff falling off my deck!  I did keep a watchful eye out though but didn’t spot them and when the boys got back to Tradewind all legs and arms were accounted for.

We had to wait quite a few hours for our boat to right itself and for Tradewind to pull us from our sandy prison but eventually we were on our way again on a high tide so hopefully we’d be right for the rest of the way.  It was Alan’s first night sailing experience and he did a fantastic job.  He led the way, as Tradewind has no draft, so he could warn us of any shallows that could become our undoing.  We made it to about 1nm prior to the slipway at about 11pm, a mere 16 hours after setting sail, and anchored ready to pull Tradewind out first thing in the morning.

We’ve now been here for a couple of weeks, Tradewind has dried out, removed the boot, the prop, we’ve cut a hole in her bottom, each move could be a chapter in a book, but it’s not my story to tell, it’s theirs.  The rebuilding has begun and further issues have been found, but again, that's their story.

We spent Christmas and new year in the dusty, dirty, boatyard and really… we couldn’t be happier!