View from the deck at Fortescue Bay
I spend the morning at work on the laptop, and we breakfast at 11.45. The boat is rocking on the mooring due to a slight swell in the bay, which means the seas outside would be fairly significant, and occasionally the bay is hit with a bullet of wind coming down from the hills that whips through the mast making the whole boat shudder.
Storm across Fortescue Bay
The chronometer on the wall reads twenty to twelve, as do the two needles on the barometer, indicating the pressure has dropped from 1010 to 980 as two significant low pressure systems cross from the Southern Ocean to the Tasman. The second front is to drop away to the south, so with a bit of luck we will sail tomorrow.The HF radio tells us we can expect North West to South West winds 15 knots and upwards which should give us a window of opportunity to sail north along the coast to Maria Island. We will ready the boat tonight to put to sea early tomorrow. Robert and Aimee have donned wetsuits and are exploring the seabed around the boat, which is largely full of a fine haired green weed that has infested the area in the past few years, suspected to be an exotic import that hitchhiked on the hull or in the ballast of a foreign ship. The worst of these is the dreaded phytopthora cinnamomi, a soil pathogen causing root rot that is gradually spreading across Tasmania. But it is not all bad news. Wakame has found its way here from Japan, and it is being harvested and exported back, infinitely better than the Japanese product which grows in largely polluted waters. A magnificent sea vegetable which is simply soaked in water and tossed into salads. It goes especially well with cucumber.
Fortescue Bay
Around mid afternoon thunderstorms roll in across the bay. Bullets of wind hit Escapade and we shudder and shake. We have to reset our anchor. Fortunately there is no-one else in the bay, we have the whole place to ourselves. Robert makes some adjustments to the stern so we can easily stow the tender across the deck. I prepare dinner, which is instant polenta with a rich tomato and garlic sauce, arincini balls baked in the oven and a salad. We are getting low on supplies, I am hoping we can pull in to Triabunna to restock. I am also keen to call home. Whilst the cellular phone network covers most of Tasmania’s east coast, the bay we have been holed up in does not, so it has been five days since anyone has heard anything of us. Dinner over, I crawl into the quarter berth and drift off into a deep sleep.
