Albany Adventure Part 1 – From Day Sailor to Offshore Passage Maker
By Morgan Flower
When telling people at the Fremantle Sailing Club about my plans to sail Emigre to Albany in the middle of winter, most people’s reaction was that I am absolutely crazy. Maybe they are right.
To make matter worse, earlier in the week I decided to leave, Fremantle was battered by strong winds, heavy rain and freezing temperatures. Why would anyone want to go south! Call me crazy but that was exactly my plan.
Albany is a regional city in the Great Southern region of Western Australia with a population of 34,000. It was Western Australia’s first European settlement, founded on the 26th of December 1826. Now-days it’s mostly made up of retired farmers seeking a sea change from the Wheat Belt.
According to my trusty chart plotter, the route I intended to sail was approximately 320 nautical miles from Fremantle non stop to Albany, rounding Cape Naturaliste and Cape Leeuwin, one of the three ‘great capes’. The sea conditions between Cape Naturalist and Cape Leeuwin and between Cape Leeuwin and Albany are regarded as some of the roughest in the Southern Hemisphere. Many a ship has been wrecked on the reefs south of Cape Leeuwin. These rather daunting facts certainly made me proceed with caution.
The reason for this mid winter adventure was mostly due to the need for accommodation in Albany for most of August and September while I completed a university work placement at Albany Entertainment Centre as part of my bachelors degree in Audio. Taking my boat (home) with me seemed like the logical option as the town marina in Albany is not even 150m from the Entertainment Centre where I’d be working.
Knowing I had this trip coming up, I had assembled a crew well in advanced that consisted of the ever reliable, yet green gilled James Myburgh and the overqualified delivery skipper Jon Sanders. Upon discussion with my parents about their concerns about the voyage, Mum put her nerves at ease by saying “if you can’t make it to Albany with Jon Sanders on board, you should probably give up ocean sailing.” Thanks mum.
It’s Monday July 12 and I received a text from my weather routing service. i.e. Jon. It read:
“Windy App still shows good wind strength - mostly mild, and direction for 3 days, 72 hrs, midnight Friday to Midnight Monday = 72 hrs plus some more favourable hours. I’m happy, if ready, we go to Albany.”
Translated into what Jon actually meant, it reads more like, “You don’t get weather windows like this very often in winter, get your act together and be ready to leave Midnight Friday!” This wouldn’t be easy. Let me list what still had to be done:
• Replace faulty bilge pump control panel
• Pick up Aries Wind Vane parts from the anodisers
• Install new lee cloths
• Pick up and install re-welded stainless-steel bracket that links the tiller with the rudder stock
• Bend on mainsail and staysail, these had just been serviced by the sailmaker
• Replace genoa furling line (now that I had received the missing part that I had dropped overboard the week before)
• Design, machine and install a new top bushing for the rudder tube (This was a potential show stopper!)
• Install Aries Wind Vane, cut aluminium tube to length, bolt brackets to stern, install lead blocks, replace steering lines, devise pulley system for tensioning steering lines (not a small task)
• Service the Engine, replace impeller, replace anodes, clean heat exchanger, drain and replace engine and gearbox oil and replace fuel and oil filters
• Refuel and stow 6 additional fuel cans and two water cans
• Provision the yacht for three days at sea with three hungry crew
• Cook meals to eat underway
• Two loads of washing
• Fuel for the outboard (for the tender & life raft)
• Clean up the absolute pigsty that was the cabin
• Contact my four employers and Uni to tell them I was leaving for 8 weeks
and last but not least
• Cross my fingers that James would be able to get a week of work at very short notice.
Just to make life easy, I had to write off Monday and Tuesday as I had a two day full time induction at a new job i’m starting. Great.
So at this point you’re expecting me to tell you we postponed the trip a week. Nope. The only option was to call in the pit crew.
This team featured all stars Jon Sanders and Brian Marsh, a fellow live aboard at Fremantle Sailing Club backed up by the legendary John and Roger owners of Yacht Grot, a marine chandlery I work at in Fremantle. We still had three days to get things organised!
In the evenings I finished soldering the new bilge pump control panel and installing the lee cloths, on Wednesday and Thursday I worked from morning to night, ably assisted by Jon installing the wind vane on the stern, working out of a dinghy in the middle of a gale. We also installed the new top bushing for the rudder tube, expertly machined at very short notice by Michael at Pacific Nylon Plastics in O’Connor. I can’t speak highly enough of Barry Tasker and his team who also machined the aluminium ball joints that mount the Aries Wind Vane to the stern.
Next we installed the stainless bracket onto the end of the tiller, fitting new larger bolts. We fitted two large pad eyes, 18 inches up the tiller to take snap shackles attached to the Aries Wind Vane steering lines.
On Friday Brian helped me replace the furling line (without dropping the furler parts overboard) and then we spent the better part of the day servicing my 27hp 3 cylinder diesel.
I regularly service and maintain the engine to ensure that it is reliable, which it has been thus far however at my last service 13 months ago, I noticed a blade missing from the Johnson raw water impeller. I replaced it with a genuine Johnson part and put the failure down to a poor batch of impellers. Thankfully it had lodged in the outlet of the bronze pump making it very easy to retrieve with a pair of needle nose pliers. This engine service, was less simple. Once I removed the water pump which is required to remove the covering plate which allows access to the impeller, I noticed that a blade had yet again broken off the 13 month old genuine Johnson impeller. To make matters worse, this time it wasn’t conveniently caught in the outlet of the pump. This meant we had to pull apart the entire raw water loop to track down the missing impeller vane that could be blocking a hose, restricting cooling water to the heat exchanger. Unfortunately we had to remove the two end caps from the tube nest inside the heat exchanger, something I had really not wanted to do as I didn’t have time to source replacement seals if we damaged them in the process. After some persuasion with a hammer, both end caps were easily removed, revealing the missing impeller vane on the inlet side of the tube nest. After pushing a wire down each tube in the ‘nest’, we reassembled the cooling systems and fitted another genuine Johnson impeller which I believe is the most expensive part of the boat, costing a whopping $82! I won’t name names however I was repeatedly told I should have gone to Yacht Grot. We wrapped up the engine service about 1600hrs on Friday afternoon thanks to the persistence, knowledge and skill of Brian. It was now time to clean up and do some shopping. Next stop Woolworths.
After buying what felt like everything in the store, I took the provisions back to Emigre and somehow managed to fit it all on board. I had even remembered to make the all important stop at the chemist to pick up some Seasickness tablets, mostly for James.
It was then off to Crawley to pick up Jon before heading to Mt Lawley to collect my equipment from Uni. By the time we arrived back on Emigre it was after 2100 and I was exhausted. Unfortunately cooking still had to be done. Whilst I prepared enough chickpea vegetable curry to feed an army and enough pasta to feed an football team, James had arrived and was assisting Brian and ‘Dallas’ Darcy Mair, another FSC live aboard to secure the fuel and water jugs and set up the Aries Windvane. Jon tapped away on the B&G chart plotter, plotting the route that we would religiously follow all the way to Albany, not daring to stray inside of the plotted line in fear of striking reefs or shallow ground.
At 0045hrs on Saturday July 17th, (no we would never leave on a Friday) the fridge was stocked, the last dishes were dried and stowed and the crew had donned their foul weather gear. Brian and Dallas coiled the mooring lines as we edged backwards out of the pen. They really thought they had gotten rid of us for good!
The Kubota purred away as we quietly slipped out of the Sailing Club and made course towards Carnac island, the final obstacle before we could set course for our first waypoint, some 100 nautical miles to the south south west. The ever reliable Simrad TP22 tiller pilot took the helm very soon after we cleared the dividing marks at the entrance to Fremantle Fishing Boat Harbour.
After we transited ‘Challenger Passage’ a narrow route between Garden and Carnac Island, we set course for Cape Naturaliste and relaxed as the Simrad tiller pilot steered us into the windless night. The Kubota chugged away at 2200rpm’s for hour after hour with its drone becoming more and more relaxing as we became more tired. At 0300hrs, once we cleared Carnac Island, I fell into my bunk.
We motored through the night and following day, averaging 5 knots into flat seas and very light winds just as our weather man had predicted. I woke the crew up after my sunrise watch with the smell of pancakes bubbling away on the stove, topped off with a few strawberries to keep the scurvy at bay. Yum
I spent the afternoon plotting our route on the paper charts that Jon had brought along for the trip, just in case we had electronics failure. It’s always a great exercise to practice plotting waypoints on a paper chart, measuring distance and even taking coastal sights to get an estimated position.
The sky was grey and overcast for most of the day, threatening to rain. The rain held however and eventually the cumulous clouds parted to give way to some blue sky and sunshine west of Bunbury. I wrote in the log at 1300hrs on Sunday.
“Just work up to flogging sails… Wind! Sanders has everything under control.”
Sadly this was short lived and before no time, the Kubota was humming again. We continued peacefully into the afternoon in flat seas until sunset where our first challenge arose. The Engine revs began to reduce with the throttle at the same position. We were losing power. This isn’t idea right on dusk. Off came the engine covers once again as set to work deducing what might be the problem. Air? Possibly… Compression? Unlikely.. Fuel? Very likely.
As I suspected, the glass bowl on the fuel filter was full of water. I figured their may have been some water in the fuel tank as I had a leaky fuel filler cap.. Easy, i’ll just drain the bowl and let the electric fuel pump push any water in the hose back into the tank via the return line. Not so fast…
The fuel filter is mounted in a very difficult spot to get at, beside the fuel tank behind the engine. This means you must climb over the hot engine to access it. To make matters worse, It’s mounted too low down to allow the bleed screw to be easily removed and it required the entire filter and bowl to be removed to simply drain the water. Great… (this is something I intend to fix)
After an hour or so of cursing at the filter, I managed to remove the water, change the filter and replace the bolt holding the whole lot together without over compressing the rubber gasket between the glass bowl and the bottom of the filter. Eventually I opened up the taps on the bottom of the fuel tank and clean diesel flowed through to the engine. We were off!
As we rounded the cape, James’s sea sickness had set in, causing him to retire to his bunk for the foreseeable future.. Jon and I took four hour watches for the remainder of the trip. In the early evening, the wind built to 15 knots from the north west, allowing us to stop the engine, set the wind vane and sail comfortably at 5-7 knots with three reefs in the mainsail, with the small self tacking staysail and the number three genoa unfurled completely. Perfect!
0430hrs Sunday, July 18th. I wrote in the log,
“S**T! 40knot squall just came through! James and Morgan struggled to furl the genoa. Managed to get it under control. 13-15 knots again.”
0545hrs Sunday, July 18th I wrote in the log once again,
“Large tool bag just came crashing down onto James’s empty bunk, then fell on floor. Jon cleaned up.”
Jon was incredibly lucky it didn’t land in his bunk, It could have done some serious damage. Note to self..: Stow heavy objects on the floor, not above peoples heads. (I thought it was was secure behind a rope)
We continued to round Cape Leeuwin as I took my watch at dawn, having travelled the 60 nautical miles between the capes throughout the night. I remember seeing a fantastic sunrise over the top of Cape Leeuwin as we rounded approximately 12 nautical miles offshore. It’s moments like these that make offshore sailing so special, the ones you don’t get sailing around islands or in protected waters. Having done so little offshore miles, I still find it mesmerising. It makes me want to go further.
Jon took over after my watch and I headed straight for my bunk. We were sailing nicely towards Albany in some rather big and confused swell with the wind on our quarter. After two blissful hours of sleep, I work up to light winds and thought I’d start the engine to get us moving again.
Prior to starting the engine, I did my usual engine and bilge checks only to find water in the aft bilge and squirting out of the engine’s air intake… At this point repeated expletives were used, waking up a seasick James and catching Jon’s attention. My instincts combined with hours and hours of YouTube watching, reading of technical manuals and a dose of good luck told me to NOT try and start the engine. Instead I opted to attempt to remove the injectors, turn the engine over to remove the water from the cylinders and then replace the injectors and attempt to get it running again. Not a bad idea on paper.
At this point, my lack of mechanical know how failed failed me.
I began what I though was removing the injectors, only to find out when I turned over the engine that I had in fact not removed the injectors, but split them in half, showering tiny injector parts (and sea water) all throughout the bilge… Great. Did I mention it was rough? The next hour and a half was spent muttering more expletives and pulling up every floorboard attempting to find all the tiny pieces of the three injectors. Thankfully the nozzles had flown out, relieving the pressure in the cylinders and expelling a lot of the water. After a thorough search, including trawling through an oily bilge, I had found all but one tiny part of the injectors. Ok.. enough trying to be clever. Now to consult the boat owners bible, Nigel Calder’s book Mechanical & Electrical Systems. After doing just that, I was reassured that I had completely thrown away any chance of getting the engine started the minute I opened the injectors. The book was thusly closed, engine covers replaced, bilged pumped out (yes that auto switch decided to stop working too) and I cleaned myself up.
After another round of my finest Greens Shaker Pancakes, crew morale lifted, as did mine. The sea was still rough but not dangerous, confused by swells from two different oceans and the backwash off the coast. The wind had filled in meaning that we were making good progress again. After all, Emigre is a sailing boat and plenty of sailors before us have sailed this route engineless. Electronics were switched off to conserve power and we allowed every ray of sunlight to be captured by my tiny100 watts of solar panels.
Thankfully the autopilot could not be blamed for draining the batteries as it was powered entirely by the wind. The Aries Wind Vane is an impressive feat of engineering. It steers straight and true no matter what the wind strength or swell conditions are. It’s reliable, well built and simple to use unlike other wind vanes I’ve used in the past. Frankly it blows the Monitor and cape horn wind vanes out of the park. Their delicate parts and complicated installations make them look fancy but they do not work anywhere near as well as the Aries. I can confidently say I will not sail a boat of my own offshore again without an Aries. Do yourself a favour and get one, this is most certainly not sponsored.
We powered through the morning with a fresh breeze from the quarter which slowly came further and further aft as the breeze dropped. At 1645hrs on Sunday afternoon, I wrote in the log,
“The genoa won’t stop flogging. Painful!”
I spent the afternoon going from three sail reaching to wing on wing on wing with the genoa poled out to port and the staysail and main to starboard with the preventer attached. We sailed between 4-9knots SOG all night, trimming the sails regularly and trying to get rest where possible.
About 2100hrs, while the conditions were mild, I heated up some home made curry on the gimballed stove and we sat in the cabin having a laugh about the day’s events. All was at peace with the world and we had all passed through the first day blues that you get in the first 24hrs of a passage. We could have been anywhere on the planet but we were in the pitch black on a boat sailing down some fairly steep swell with no moon and no stars. There was really something magical about it which I can’t put into words. Jon and I continued to take turns keeping watch. Jon oiled the Aries Wind Vane and them made his signature milk coffee which consists of long life milk heated up in a saucepan which Nescafe instant coffee is then added to, quickly followed by one equal sweetener. Maybe thats the secret to keeping sailing at age 81? I have my doubts.
At 0830 I wrote in the log,
“Great sleep! Rough as Guts! Good wind!”
At this stage we were approximately 7 hours from Albany, making great progress. This progress slowed down throughout the day as we battled fading winds from right behind us. After a few gybes, I managed to set the spinnaker pole and we cruised past Eclipse Island just after lunch. Jon sighted a whale which was making quite a racket under the water! The scenery was spectacular as we passed Bald Head and made our way up King George Sound.
As we rounded the corner, the wind became very light and flukey. We could see the city of Albany in the distance but the wind yet again tormented us and slowed our progress. After an hour or so of flailing about, a steady 20 knot breeze set it and we sailed directly towards the entrance to Princess Royal Harbour under full sail. Jon and James enjoyed their last opportunity for sleep in flat conditions as we approached the narrow shipping channel into the harbour. Jon pointed out the shallow spots on the chart plotter as we entered the channel. The wind backed in our favour allowing us to sail close hauled straight up the channel and into the marina.
I had arranged with the Department of Transport in Albany to temporarily tie up to the wooden town jetty to on the southern side of the marina so I could prepare the tender and outboard to push the yacht into our designated pen. As we sailed past the shipping terminal, James disembarked his bunk for the first time in two days, sensing that we may be close to a gum tree for him to sit under. The tried and tested remedy for sea sickness.
He and Jon assisted with the mooring warps and fenders as I formulated a plan for once we were in the marina. With clockwork precision, the crew turned Emigre’s bows to face the marina entrance and put her alongside the wooden town jetty under main and staysail.
Once the ship had been squared away, James inflated the tender and I affixed the 2hp outboard before securing it tightly on the port aft quarter. James operated the tender, as I steered Emigre down the fairway and into the pen despite the moderate cross wind. It’s amazing how little horsepower you need to move a sizeable yacht. As we glided into the pen, James jumped aboard and assisted Jon with the spring and stern lines before making the bow fast with help from our friendly neighbour.
Welcome to Albany.
After 62 hrs of non stop sailing, we were all ready for a shower and a drink. Let’s just say the first rum didn’t touch the sides. After a good meal at the pub, we were asleep by 2030hrs. The waterlogged engine was a problem for tomorrow and a whole other story.
I must thank everyone who made this voyage possible. I truely couldn’t have done it alone. I’m truly honoured to have Jon on board, teaching me navigation and seamanship. Whilst we didn’t see much of James, he’s never a problem to have on board and is by far my most reliable crew. For someone who likes to point out every problem with the mighty Duncanson, James seems to want to spend a lot of time sailing one! It’s been a pleasure sailing with both of you and you made the trip thoroughly enjoyable.
Without the mentorship and help from Brian, and the generosity, flexibility and understanding from John and Roger, we never would have left Fremantle Sailing Club. I can’t thank you enough.
Get on a boat and untie the lines. It’s not that difficult.
Albany Adventure Part 2 – The Return to Fremantle
Having wrapped up my six week audio secondment at Albany Entertainment Centre, it was time to untie the lines and heads towards Fremantle. Uni assignments and work commitments were looming requiring me to get back to the city as soon as possible. For the return trip, James decided that he was probably not cut out for the Southen Ocean and decided to sit this one out. That left me with ever reliable Jon Sanders and the adventure loving Paul Winkler to make up the numbers. I guess with a joke book like Paul’s it’s hardly making up the numbers and more like a 70hr stand up comedy gig. Not a hour passed without the crew being in stitches over one of Paul’s jokes or stories.
I drove my car back to Perth on Friday morning, using it to pick up my reinforced lee cloths that has been damaged on the trip south and a few supplies from Yacht Grot. Brian gave Jon and I a lift to the East Perth Bus Terminal where we boarded the 1730hrs coach to Albany. After arriving around 2330, we walked across the road to the marina and fell asleep very shortly thereafter. Saturday was my last opportunity for boat preparations including stowing the additional jerry cans of diesel, topping up water tanks and completing engine checks. I attempted to install a ball valve in the exhaust pipe that could be closed to stop water filling up the pipe and engine when under sail, solving the issue we had on the trip south. Unfortunately it was the wrong size so I had to resort to removing the exhaust pipe form the back of the heat exchanger and plugging it with a wooden bung to stop any water that got into the exhaust getting into the boat. This worked well enough but required me to do it every time we started or stopped the engine. I will solve this issue properly once I arrive back in Fremantle.
I had my last shift at 1600hrs at the Albany Entertainment Centre, recording the opera La Traviata. Whilst I was at work, Paul arrived at 1800 on the buss from Busselton via Bunbury. Jon escorted Paul back to Emigre and they finished the final preparations for the voyage. I got home from work at 2330 and after a quick bowl of pasta, we went straight to bed.
Sunday
We woke relatively early and got to work stowing the last of the fenders and dock lines, coiling the shore power cable and washing the dishes. My new friends Steve, a fellow live aboard and Mark from Southen Ocean Sailing both stopped by to say goodbye before we left pushed back out of the pen and motored slowly out into Princess Royal Harbour and King George Sound.
We enjoyed the picturesque scenery as we motored out towards Bald Head and into the Southern Ocean. This is when the fun really began.
CRASH! The boom came down hard on the deck as I began raising the mainsail. The pin in the gooseneck swivel had come undone. Thankfully I managed to grab all the parts before they went for a swim. Ably assisted by Paul on deck and Jon on the tiller I managed to get the boom back onto the gooseneck and get three reefs in the main. The wind was a steady 15 knots and all crew were more than happy to take it easy and make the ride comfortable. When returning to the cockpit I noticed the boom had crushed the teak handrail that runs along the coach house roof. Never mind. We set course between Bald Head and Eclipse Island and made good progress under number three headsail, staysail and triple reefed mainsail. The wind was a relatively constant southerly and the Aries wind vane comfortably steered Emigre throughout the day.
After a couple of days of gales, the see state was still very confused making for a bumpy start to the trip.
This didn’t help Paul and I who were feeling ill from something we had both eaten earlier that day. We enjoyed steady sailing all day and as the wind eased in the evening, we started the engine and motor sailed through most of the night.
Monday
Monday brought fresh easterly breezes and we started out sailing wing on wing with the mainsail on the port side, held in position with a preventer line and the genoa out to starboard, held out by the spinnaker pole. This configuration is incredibly convenient as I can easily furl the genoa once if the wind builds and run under reefed main and staysail alone. As the day progressed, the wind slowly dropped so I managed to convince Jon and Paul to help me fly the spinnaker.
We hoisted the kite as we approached Cape Leeuwin on Monday afternoon. The seas were smooth and the wind was about 10 knots from the east. After a somewhat eventful hoist caused purely by my poor instruction, we set the chute and powered along at 6-7 knots on a nice sunny afternoon towards one of the three great capes. We commented on how lucky we were to be experiencing one of the roughest corners of the world on such a beautiful day under spinnaker.
The wind slowly built and after receiving suggestion from captain Jon, we prepared to drop the kite. With paul firing the brace and pulling in the sheet, Jon steering and me on the halyard, we executed a text book drop straight into the cockpit with nothing more than a sheet end getting wet! The genoa was promptly unfurled and the staysail hoisted as we powered along into the afternoon with the Aries back on steering duties.
Whist running the motor on Sunday, we had to restart it a number of times as it would lose revs and then give up. We decided to change the primary fuel filter despite the bowl being clean. When we got the filter housing apart, we found the top of the filter completely blocked with sludge created from water being in the diesel tank. After a quick change of filter and a top up of the fuel tank including nuking it with F10 fuel biocide the engine was once again ready to rock and roll. This process was made much easier thanks to the relocation of the fuel filter from behind the engine to out in the main cabin. A job that Brain had assisted with after the major nuisance changing the filter on the trip south.
As the afternoon progressed we sat in the cockpit and told lies and Paul brought out his world famous Julia Gillard joke and had us all in stitches in no time.
We enjoyed home made soup and garlic bread in the oven for dinner whilst Paul told us about his incredible four wheel drive adventures in the Australian outback.
At sunset I picked up my sextant and Jon have me some pointers in how to get an accurate sight on star. It took almost forever but I managed to get a fix on the moon.. pretty hopeless as accurate navigational sight, but a good practice for me. It’s much more difficult than it looks on a small boat bobbing up and down in the swells. As the night wore on, the wind stayed due east and we enjoyed a pleasant 60 nautical mile sail between Cape Leeuwin and Cape Naturaliste. We took turns taking watch throughout the night swapping when we could hardly keep our eyes open.
Tuesday
We passed Cape Naturaliste at 0600hrs on Tuesday Morning and continued due North for another thirty miles whilst the wind was still out of the east. As the day progressed the wind turned north east, meaning that we had to beat to windward to get to Fremantle, approximately 100 nautical miles to our north. We tacked and motor sailed towards Capel, a town two and a half hours south of Fremantle. The further into Geographe Bay we sailed, the smoother the seas became. We tacked again, furled the genoa, lowered the staysail and continued motoring north on course for our waypoint outside Carnac Island. The wind had died to nothing and the seas became flat as a lake as we motored along quietly, Kubota purring away in the background.
Wednesday
We entered challenger passage at 0130hrs on Wednesday morning, paying careful attention to the chart plotter and leads as we navigated the narrow entrance. After negotiating Parmelia Bank, Fish Rock would be the last obstacle between us and Fremantle Sailing Club. I joked with Jon that Brian would never let me hear the end of it if we ran aground on Fish Rocks after sailing to Albany and back!
At 0245hrs we cleared the rock wall at the entrance to the marina, tying up in the pen by 0255hrs. First priority was showers closely followed by sleep. That was the end of another fantastic trip. We woke before 0900 and headed for the usual coffee table in the Fremantle Sailing Club bar and shared stories of our adventure.
The most valuable lesson i’ve learnt out of the whole Albany experience is that offshore sailing isn’t difficult. Anyone can do it with just about any boat. You don’t have to be wealthy or have qualifications, just be passionate, willing to learn and have respect for the elements. Choose your weather carefully and take good crew with you. You can experience new places in your own boat without much trouble at all. The hardest part of the trip is always untying the lines.