Paul, bow surfing <strong>Queimarla</strong>’s first sail Story & photos, attached us to the marina floor (O.K. levers into forward, I watched the years of cruising. We tighten up the We are both good swimmers, and <strong>The</strong> surfers had to be satisfied with Barbara Jahnz, <strong>SC</strong> <strong>Queimarla</strong> an exaggeration! But close). We jetty move away from the boat. My lazy jacks, unzip the bag, and had the life ring and vests handy, so watching <strong>Queimarla</strong> sway at anchor March 1997, Hillary's Marina, Sorrento, Perth, Western Australia. <strong>The</strong> easterlies had been coming in more regularly, reminding us that it was now or never to get our girl sailing. We had been working hard organizing everything. A second hand main sail from the Australian Racing Catamaran, John West had been cut down to size to fit our rig and was lying in its bright red bag on the deck, ready to be man handled onto the boom and up the mast (yep, we have the sails that John West rejects!). Laid out on the lawn a few days earlier, we had decided, definitely, to lose the colour scheme. Stripes of dark green, duck shit green and baby poo yellow had to go. Ready to go were our no.1 jib, self-tacking no.3 jib and a roll of 12mm rope, now cut down into sheet lengths. Halyards were already strung through the mast. Our two 9.9 Yamaha motors (nicknamed P & S) checked and the control shift problem sorted out. <strong>The</strong>re was a disconcerting moment the day before when Paul pushed the control levers forward and the boat tugged against her mooring lines to move in reverse! A few hours during each of the preceding days we had been diving on the underwater hulls to scrub down, disconnecting ourselves from the forest of marine growth that had sold the domestic bar fridge, connected the solar panels, lost all the lamps and extension leads to friends, disconnected our shore power cable and a myriad of other paraphernalia got carted away. We had decided we were ready, and the next morning, early, we would quietly sneak out of our berth, around to the southern side of the marina, and anchor there to put the main sail on. <strong>The</strong>n we would go for a sail. Our first ever on <strong>Queimarla</strong>. We woke to a fantastic day except we didn't really notice. Over breakfast we talked ourselves through our contingency plan, going over every step we would take to get out of our pen, so that it wouldn't turn into an embarrassing screaming match. O.K. Action. Everything was made shipshape inside and on deck for our trip outside the heads and into open water. <strong>The</strong> motors had been given a chance to warm up, half of our mooring ropes had been removed and along came the first of our dock rat friends. So much for sneaking out before anyone woke up; wish they'd wipe the smirks off their faces. “Finally getting the big bitch movin, are ya guys?” “Cummon, we'll give yers a hand and fend 'er off.” “Thanks guys.” Groan - no turning back now. So, letting the mooring lines go, and Paul gently easing the control stomach tightened. We were actually moving away from the jetty, and that felt so foreign! I had to give myself a mental shake and tell myself to get a grip. “All of this is not new,” I said to myself, “we have done this dozens of times.” On other peoples boats and on our first catamaran, Nortrek, but that was 10 years ago! This was our newly built boat. Not a scratch on her. Never sailed before. Oh boy. Free fall. And as her bows pointed out towards the heads, I watched the water play around her bows, and the Rottnest Island Ferry steam into the marina. But <strong>Queimarla</strong>, unlike me, took it all in stride and rode the bow waves and on out to meet the elements outside the heads. We motored around the “Boy in the Boat” reef, waved to a couple of powerboats whipping past, and found a nice sandy place to drop the anchor. Wow. It is so peaceful here! We relished the new gentle easy motion of a free boat at anchor, made ourselves a congratulatory cup of coffee and sat, watching the bathers on the beach from a whole new angle. We talked, business, rehashing what to do next. Between the two of us we managed to man handle the 4.5-meter long red sail bag onto the boom. <strong>The</strong> sail is heavy, but we know also strong, and will last us at least a couple of unwrap our main sail. Sliding the cars onto the mast track worked a treat, and soon we had the out-haul tied on, the main halyard attached, and everything looked ready to go. <strong>The</strong> plan was to haul up the anchor, motor into the light offshore easterly breeze, and pull up the main. And it all was going to plan, we had the main half way up, and we heard a plaintive call “Help, I'm caught in the current!” What? We looked at each other in total disbelief. Now??? Our first ever venture out?? We weren't sure of what we were doing ourselves, let alone helping someone else!' Three guys had swum out towards our boat, all with masks, snorkels and fins. Two were finning it, slowly but steadily, at an angle with the current back to the beach. But the third was looking at us, expectantly, a bit red in the face. “Ahhh, um, there's not much chance of getting you on board mate, but you've got fins, recon you can swim in if we shadow you? We'll toss you a rope if you really need it.” said Paul. He looked up at us dejectedly. But really, <strong>Queimarla</strong>'s transom is sheer, and the ladder was packed away. We could put it out, but it would take time and then what do we do with him? Head back into the Marina? No, if possible we'd help him get out of his own mess, the way he got in, and be ready if it really got serious. we dropped the half hauled main, got the ropes ready if he really got into trouble, and motored towards him. He turned and slowly started finning towards the shore. Soon enough, he was able to stand, he waved, grinned, and gave us thumbs up, and relieved, we were able to back away and continue our manoeuvre. We felt a bit mean, but hey, bet he felt better getting back on his own steam and not having to be rescued or did he? We would never know. We didn't really care - we were going sailing! So, again, up with the main, the heavy thing costing a lot of energy to haul up and turn away, rotate the wing mast, let out the traveller; broad reach, heading south. Yes! She was moving under her own steam! We shut down the motors, pulled them up out of the water and the sound changed again. A peaceful rustle of water along the hulls. We were “moovin”! Hank on the no.3 self tacker (no need to over do it here) and run the sheet through, pull her up and <strong>Queimarla</strong> powers forward. Now we were really sailing! We tacked and played, tweaked and adjusted, grinning, till we passed Scarborough Beach. By this time it was nearly lunchtime, and we decided to turn and drop anchor. Scarborough Beach is a surfing beach, normally a seething mass of surf rolling into the shore, but this day the offshore easterly levelled everything out. in the flat sea. A bite of lunch, a cool swim, siesta in the netting on our very own no.3 jib, another swim, and then head for home. This time in a straight line, only 7nm. Too soon we were dropping the jib and starting the motors as we came up to the heads of Hillary's Marina and then turning into the wind in the duck pond just inside the breakwater to drop the main sail. Slowly we turned and nudged our way into our berth, taking up lines and tying off securely. We were home. Our first great adventure. One day we would sail out of those heads and not come back. But first, back to work to replenish the bank account. This is the stuff dreams are made of. And boy, did we sleep well and dream happy that night. TCP NOTE: Paul and Barbara Jahnz journeyed around the world on <strong>Queimarla</strong> from 1998 to 2010. <strong>Queimarla</strong> is a 42' Kurt Hughes designed open bridgedeck catamaran, constructed in the 'save and build' method! Built in Mandurah, Western Australia. Building commenced January 1989 and was completed March 1997. <strong>The</strong>ir 'cruising lifestyle' commenced May '98. Paul and Barbara now need to sell <strong>Queimarla</strong> and if interested, see this editions “Boat for Sale” page. Wok & Woody Say: “Considering an inflatable? Talk to the people that repair them. BUY AUSTRALIAN!” LIFE RAFTS, LIFE JACKETS & INFLATABLES Service * Sales *Repairs* Safety Equipment DELIVERY SERVICE TO BOWEN & LAGUNA QUAYS Local agents for: AQUAPRO, BAREFOOT, ACHILLES, & RFD Authorised Life Raft & EPIRB Service Centre CASA APPROVED PAINTS! PRIMERS! ANTIFOULS! WATTYL, & POR 15 Sealers, pre-primes, primers, undercoats, top coats & antifouls!!! From rusted steel to red gum, no matter what you want to paint, QUALITY PRODUCTS AT THE LOWEST PRICES! CALL US! WHITSUNDAY OCEAN SERVICES Boathaven Industrial Estate: Lot 3 Loop Rd., (Off Sh ute Harbour Rd., Behind Jubilee Tavern) Warwick & Janelle Eastwood (“Wok & Woody”) email: wokwood@whitsunday.net.au Barbara and Paul - life is good... PH: 4948 1366 Fax: (07) 4948 1377 Marlin Marine Whitsunday’s leading Chandlery and Rigging Specialists Hempel Marine Coatings RELAX, you’ve chosen Hempel WORLD CLASS YACHT COATINGS •Mast and Booms •Standing Rigging •Running Rigging •Halyards and •Sheets •Spinnaker Poles •Furlers •Life Lines •Balustrading •Mooring Strops •Rig Inspections •Mast & Rig repairs www.greatcircleliferafts.com.au Shute Harbour Road, Airlie Beach Hours: Mon-Fri: 7:00am-5:30pm Sat-Sun: 7:00am-12 noon Andrew, senior rigger for Marlin Marine Ph: (07) 4946 6453 email: marlinma@tpg.com.au www.marlinmarine.com.au Barbara in cruise mode Visit Marlin Marine for all your rope & splicing needs!
OIN THE GREAT WHITSUNDAY FUN RACE 2012 Robert Fenney photo Corrie Gardner photo Robert Fenney photo One of the special qualities of Airlie Beach is the overall party atmosphere of the town and one the highlights of their event calendar is the Great Whitsunday Fun Race. Hosted by the Whitsunday Sailing Club, this year the race has been moved to the 18 August, the weekend after Airlie Beach Race Week, to continue the fun and give visiting yachties another excuse to stay on in town and party. Not only is it a great day of racing but the after-party has created some legendary stories of its own! <strong>The</strong> original aim of this race was to market Airlie Beach as the “Mecca” for visiting yachts. <strong>The</strong> first race, in 1977, attracted 69 yachts out of a fleet of 98, including dinghies! <strong>The</strong> Fun Race has now become a favourite on the sailing calendar and traditions established include decorating decks and costumed crew, the “Miss Figurehead” contest and the major trophy, an empty bottle of Mount Gay Rum mounted on a block of Mackay Cedar. People can join in the race in all manner of sailing vessel or just come out on a spectator craft to enjoy the day. After the racing, join in the fantastic party on the shores of Airlie Beach and the Whitsunday Sailing Club. Live bands, heaps of prizes, fun competitions and a wonderful atmosphere of mateship combine to make it a memorable day on and off the water. Join in the regatta atmosphere of Airlie Beach Race Week and the Great Whitsunday Fun Race and create some ‘tall’ stories of your own for 2012! By Corrie Gardner Photos on this page by Corrie Gardner & Robert Fenney <strong>The</strong> Great Whitsunday Fun Race: Saturday 18 August 2012 For further information contact: Whitsunday Sailing Club (07) 4946 6138 or see web site: Robert Fenney photo www.whitsundaysailingclub.com.au Corrie Gardner photo Robert Fenney photo Robert Fenney photo
Change language