We left Dillons Bay for a little anchorage that we hoped would be a bit calmer – Ponusia Bay. The sail was fairly craptastic – everything banging around, the Smalls left all the hatches unlocked on the port side ceiling, I left the one above my pillow unlocked. Wet, wet, wet. Gah, gah, gah. Small …
It’s always the same after we have stayed somewhere for four or five days. In the case of Yamba, we were waiting for a part for the autipilot to arrive, having belatedly realised that Express Post does not exist in Yamba because it has no nearby airport. “And that’s the way we like it,” stated …
Two days after the departure of the Mothership and T, Mung and the boys turned up. The weather was inclement, but they seemed happy enough to spend a night on the mooring at the Royal Yacht Club of Tasmania (RYCT) and a second night in Hobart proper. Those boys. If I could keep them, I …
Sleet during the night. Actual sleet. I am so grateful for the woollen blankets that Jess washed and dried for me ? Snugged up under one of them, I was warm as a bug. I thought briefly and unsympathetically of all the motorboating people over in their camp, shivering wetly, and slept in until eight …