Streaky Bay to Sceale Bay     21/3/15 - 28/3/15

 We are self-confessed fans of Streaky Bay. It is like that pair of old shoes you wear on a Saturday morning; familiar and comfortable. At least that's how it felt arriving back at Streaky after a number of days at arm's length from humanity. If we had to drag ourselves back to a town, then Streaky Bay would fit the bill. Besides, it was Saturday eve and despite the fine fare we enjoy on Calista, to "duck" ashore and to grab a table by the front window of the Streaky Bay Hotel, overlooking the town jetty and anchorage, had a special feel to it. We could raise a glass to our noble little ship, and the fine excursion to western waters she was enabling us to enjoy. One could have lingered and mellowed in the SBH, but for the reality that night was approaching, and we needed to get back on board, get the "duck" on deck and prepare for some heavy weather that was due the next day. Reprovisioning would have to wait until the "blow" was over. With this in mind and in the knowledge that shops would be off the agenda until things settled, Cookie was up early and the aroma of a loaf of a light rye loaf, fresh from our oven, was at least a welcome start to the day.

Hot bread for breakfast!

 

The bay at Streaky Bay  is technically called Blanche Port, and is like a 4nm by 2nm oval, almost north aligned, with an entrance about 1nm wide at the Northern end alongside Gibson Spit. The town of Streaky Bay is at the southern end of Blanche Port, with the anchorage, alongside the jetty, in the SE corner. In this semi-protected crucible, one could, in theory, move around to gain protection from strong winds, keeping clear of Sponge Rocks North and South which are hindrances to passage across the middle of the bay. The tricky part, in our case, was to decide whether a modest Northerly, followed by a firm Westerly on the change, and later, heavy conditions from the SW warranted our steaming around the bay chasing the wind-shifts. With this meteorological conundrum to play out on the Sunday, we opted to anchor out a bit and to stay on board for the day, ready to move if things got really nasty. The pleasing part was that this challenge was scheduled for the daylight hours, with a more direction friendly SW, in theory, in place by nightfall.

Boat bound so a good time to "blog"

 

In spite of all the internet weather sites predicting heavy weather later, apart from a light puff from the North in the morning, a calm settled over the Port that might have lulled the unwary into a false sense of security. Often when a strong summer change is to arrive, low scudding cumulus clouds can be pointers to trouble. We acutely recall such an event on Christmas Day 1998, the first time we took charge of a yacht - a rented 27' Northshore, Bruin the Bear - in our own right. We were lounging dreamily in the lee of Spilsby Is, off Port Lincoln, with potted meats, salads, condiments and lubricants in glorious profusion in the cockpit, when over the shoulder of the island swept a couple of dark, rolling clouds bringing a sudden feeling of foreboding. In seconds it hit, with full malevolence and intent. By the time we had reached shelter at a nearby island the wind was blowing to 30kn and the sea had turned white with spray. This same system continued on its horrid way to help concoct the perfect storm that decimated the Sydney to Hobart Yacht Race fleet in Bass Strait. On this occasion in Streaky Bay these grey and ominous bullies swept over the western landscape, in late afternoon, almost on cue; raising dust from fallow paddocks and reserves along the foreshore before collecting us amidships. Calista leapt about like a tethered kelpie, but with lots of chain out, we were well placed to see out the maelstrom. Just to be sure, we kept watches into the night and into the early hours of the morning until conditions settled enough for us to get some sleep. An episode like this reinforced our belief in the importance of being well prepared and in a safe place - if possible - when heavy weather is predicted.

The weather gods deliver the tempest on sunset.

 

Although conditions had eased a little the next day, and we re-anchored closer to shore, the duck ride into the shore carried its share of excitement and could have been sold to the daring, like a ride at the Royal Show. Streaky Bay seems not to go beyond second gear, and it exudes country qualities that have been long lost in the suburbs. At the Service Station where I took my trolley and jerry cans to get some diesel, the local bloke came up, introduced himself, we shook hands, and then he explained that he "had been held up waiting for the tanker from Lincoln" and "needed a bit of a hand" with bleeding the diesel lines to the supply tank "around the back". This was the same principle as bleeding our diesel lines on Calista I figured, just the pipes would be bigger. Sure enough,10 minutes of coaxing and elevating flexible pipes and opening and closing cut-off valves amongst tanks and old drums out the back saw the slippery liquid flowing freely from the bowser. He apologised that he could not "run [me] down to the jetty". Meanwhile, at the Supermarket, Cookie, needing a trolley to get her wares to the jetty asked if she could borrow a grocery omnibus for the purpose...."no worries, she'll be fine" was the agreement. A contract with a smile. Earlier, at the Newsagent, I asked the owner if he had an Advertiser footy program to spare. He was sad to say he could not help, when an older gent interrupted saying, "I've got one of those at home if you want it...I'm the third house down the road toward the Caravan Park. Just call in..." Nice place, Streaky Bay.

Easy delivery of our groceries

 

With the larder stocked and conditions on the make, we resolved head for Sceale Bay next day and hopefully to see through yet another change, the 4th in a week after a period of stability, before planning our next leg, to somewhere in the Investigator Group, off Elliston. We toyed with staying in Streaky to see the next burst through, but decided to go on the BOM forecast, of mainly SW winds with a heavier SSW predicted on the back of the change. Sceale Bay we knew was fine in SW through to South, and Easterly weather, so dawn saw us gliding across Blanche Port, before the good souls of Streaky Bay as much as stirred. 

Dawn departure... farewell Streaky Bay

 

 Cookie's Cafe Calista was open early with a couple of her fine cheese and tomato jaffles under construction and the kettle rising to the boil. It takes about three hours to clear the broader Streaky Bay, leaving Cape Bauer and its awful reefs well to starboard. The wind was from a nagging direction not far off the bow, and the swell had risen to significant proportions following the change. Up, up, up we slogged, and down, down, down we slid, time after time after time over mountains of blue. With our motor, mainsail and autopilot managing the passage, there was time to relax in the cockpit, investigate a newspaper, and occasionally to cat nap, between glances at the horizon.

 

The author relaxing at sea

 

 

With Corvisart Bay crossed we kept well clear of Point Westall on the entrance to Sceale Bay, with us hoping that in the corner of Sceale we could find agreeable shelter. Thus it proved to be, although a feeling of some unease was felt on board with the issuing of the afternoon met forecast. Winds from the WSW now preceded the change and the wind strengths were now expected to be more than originally forecast. We could expect little shelter from a WSW wind, but the die was cast and apart from more drastic measures like putting to sea to ride it out, our first option was to tuck in to the headland as best we could, lay out every link of chain we carry (nearly 50m of 10ml chain) and make the best of what was coming. Sleep on the brink of such events is patchy at best.

Cape Blanche struggled to provide shelter from the WSW winds

 

By noon the next day the wind had filled in from the WSW as predicted, and conditions on board Calista were such that moving around below became a challenge in itself. In spite of the confused sea-state and drag on out ground tackle, we rode almost acceptably, owing largely we think, to our "traditional cruiser" wine glass shaped hull. In such conditions we deploy a heavy rubber "snubber", a shock absorber if you like, connecting our bow to the anchor chain. This prevents violent jerking on the chain, thus making things much better, for crew, boat and ground tackle. Hours dragged by with our frustration growing as the wind simply refused to move from the WSW to the SW, which would give us improved protection from the headland. Nearing 5pm a pallbearer black roll of cloud swept up from the SW, and as it approached, curtains of rain could be seen out to sea, and soon its leading edge enveloped the headland before sweeping into the bay. We were not exactly sure what to expect, although in the event of gale conditions we were ready to start the motor to take pressure off the anchor and chain. Wooosh it went, as it enveloped us and our little ship shuddered. Spray flew and we slewed around as, with the tempest, the wind hammered in from...YES....the South West! We knew that now the wind could blow as it liked, as we were under shelter from the headland. We would be secure as night approached and if the wind moved further to the South later, as predicted, the outlook for us would be better still. We could now relax a little on board, knowing that we had survived the storm.  

At last the wind went SSW... we are no longer facing Cape Blanche !



In the morning, with conditions much improved, we re-anchored further out in the bay, and planned to embark on a long walk along Sceale Bay in the direction of Yanerbie. After two days of being "boat bound', walking along this sweeping stretch of Coorong - like beach, and perhaps taking a plunge in the surf was just what we both needed. Besides, if we were lucky, the changeable weather of the past week might be giving way to a more stable pattern, allowing us to move out of Sceale Bay, cross Anxious Bay, and reconnect with the wonderful islands of the Investigator Group beyond. There were still some great places that we wanted to see, and with luck that could still be possible. 

A walk along Sceale Bay