Cara and I had met Dave and Jackie when visiting Oamaru in 2021. They were living aboard their Hanse 370e Hansel having been trapped by the Covid lockdowns. Dave was from Melbourne Australia, Jackie a Kiwi, but as the boat was registered in Australia the tax man decreed that they had to leave or import their boat and pay GST on it.
The easy decision was to leave, and Cara and I were quick to put up our hands and offer ourselves as crew. Unfortunately, the lack of flexibility with dates meant crossing the Tasman in mid-Winter, which is less than ideal, but was still too good an opportunity to sail off-shore with experienced cruisers.
We left Nelson on 15th June on a bright and sunny day and Dave soon had the spinnaker flying. The weather picked up that first day and I came down with the dreaded mal de mer, something I rarely suffer with. Whether it was lack of recent sea miles, the livelier movement of a more modern yacht, or the Thai we had for tea the night before, it was a miserable 24 hours.
The voyage was a mixture of fresh winds and doldrums. Being becalmed in the middle of the Tasman allowed one of the coolest experiences with Dave and I stripping to our undies and going for a swim. The closest land was about 1,200 km’s away, and the depth of the water was about 5kms. Dave had an old mask and when he handed it to me and I looked down into the depths I will always remember this incredible blue light that seemed to radiate up. The experience was also pretty sobering. I’m not a great swimmer and I’ve been suffering with a torn shoulder muscle for the past couple of years, but even in my ‘togs’ I could barely keep up with the boat slowly drifting along at about a knot and a half. If I ever fall overboard catching up with the boat is unlikely to be an option.
The days passed and on day nine we caught sight of Tasmania. A Westerly gale was predicted but we were all keen to press on, a decision that led to a memorable eighteen hours. Just on dark and as we were approaching the channel between Tasmania and Flinders Island, which gives access to Banks and Bass Straights, the winds rose almost instantly from about 15 knots to 35 knots. Poor Hansel took an absolute hiding for the rest of the night as we tried to maintain headway and a safe distance from the various islands that pepper the route. The boat banged from one side to the other, water began leaking in a top hatch, the bilge alarm was going off, the steering seat jumped from its mount and got wedged in the wheel. It was an eventful end to the trip.
Early afternoon the next day we saw the welcome sight of the lighthouse at Low Head that gives access to the Tamar River. The passage had taken ten days and made us realise how much we had to learn, whilst giving us confidence that we had a good base knowledge to take our own boat off-shore and continue accruing experience.
The trip wasn’t quite over as Hansel needed to be taken to Port Phillip. Cara and I had a couple of weeks free whilst Dave and Jackie sorted their boat ready for the next leg, and whilst we waited for a weather window to cross the notorious Bass Strait. We decided to get a camper van and have a look around Tasmania, somewhere we had always wanted to visit. The depth and quality of history, nature, and food in this Australian state is second to none, and if you haven’t been we would thoroughly recommend you go. Summer might be a better time for living out of a van though…. we were lucky to find a couple of cheap sleeping bags in an op shop to bolster the pretty minimal offerings the rental company provided!
The final leg to Port Phillip was pretty uneventful as the weather gods played ball. One embarrassing incident occurred when I went to make a sandwich after my watch at about 2am. The boat was heeled well over so I had to lean on the bench top to keep upright. When I went back to the cockpit to talk to Cara who had relieved me, she noticed my pocket was flashing. Somehow I had managed to set off my PLB which was in my jacket pocket. Never having set it off before we briefly wondered if the flashing lights warned of a low battery, but we quickly realised that we had to try and turn it off, the only way to do so being to extend the aerial… Hoping that no signal had been sent, the unit only having been set off for a minute or so, mainly inside, and without the aerial raised I decided not to wake anyone. However, an hour or so later the Australian Coast Guard called us up on the VHF to make sure we were all OK. We had only just got back into VHF range so presumably they might have sent a helicopter to find us if we hadn’t answered… It’s nice to know that these things work, but clearly they aren’t sufficiently idiot proof to be entrusted to me!
The entrance into Port Phillip is very narrow and sees massive amounts of water racing through with the tides, as well as the massive container ships that supply Melbourne. We had a leisurely sail waiting for the right tide and then a calm journey to Sorrento where Cara and I were to disembark. We had plans to visit relatives in Melbourne and catch up with friends at the Sydney Boat Show, so our our journey wasn’t quite over yet, but the sailing element was sadly done.
Many thanks once again to Dave and Jackie for imparting so much knowledge and making us feel so welcome in their home.
Sailing Taurus NZ 
Leave a comment