From Triabunna to Hobart

Our stay in Triabunna turned out to be a few days longer than expected due to a number of reasons primarily relating to weather and tides at the Marion Narrows/Denison Canal.   I'll also be the first to admit I became quite comfortable there in the all weather safety of the marina.

After a week George was suffering badly from itchy feet and wanting to get moving when our good friends on SV Zofia arrived with the early afternoon tide Monday, December 17.  Through them we met David and Judi and absolutely had to stay for a very enjoyable BBQ at David's house that night.  We had planned to move on the next day but David explained that Tuesday night was the final evening for the Tribunna Community Film Event and it would be a special night we should not miss.  It took some convincing for George to agree to stay another night but finally he did.

These not-for-profit film nights had been running as a night to get together, share a few drinks and a good film but to also raise money for some of the town's projects.  All up over the years they've raised over $80,000 dollars for the community.   Unfortunately due to "council issues", which were never really explained, the event had to stop and we were lucky to be there for the final evening.  We saw "Mama Mia Here We Go Again" ... and Santa made an appearance at the end to hand out door and raffle prizes.  As it turned out even George - who normally would rather stab himself in the eye than watch a musical - had a good time!

David, Judi, George, Eva and Brian before the film commenced.

Santa and the master of ceremony calling the winning numbers after the film.

The next morning there was no further reason to delay, it was time to move on to Hobart.  As always happens with me after a while in a marina, I had a case of Marina Departure Dread.  Not sure if that's what you'd call it but there is a certain complacency that gets into the psyche after a while safe in a marina pen.  It's the little fear that the weather, the boat, the sea state .. anything ... might be really bad 'out there'.  It's that little fear that says, "things are fine here, why leave now?".  Of course one has to move on but I seem to always have that tussle with the 'Dread'.

Anyway, Dread or no Dread we left Triabunna at 8am with plenty of water under the keel headed to Chinamans Bay at Maria Island to wait for the right time to sail down to the Marion Narrows .. right time meaning just the last hour or so of the incoming tide.  Eva and Brian on Zofia weren't far behind.

The Denison Canal is a short cut to Hobart.  It means not sailing further south and around the bottom of Tasman Island.  To get to the canal you have to go through the obstacle of the Marion Narrows which is the entrance to the very shallow Blackman Bay.  The depth goes from just over a meter deep to as much as 6 meters deep as you enter over a sand bar and snake around the Bay entrance.  We have a 2 meter draft and we believed we needed every inch of the incoming tide.  Plus, the guide books say it's dangerous to go over the bar in strong N-NE wind.  The forecast for the afternoon was a lovely 10-15 knots of wind from the NE but nice and mild.  A gentle afternoon sail which would get us at the bar approx 45 min from the high tide.  Well, that didn't happen.

Southern Belle and Zofia upped anchors together at 14.30 ready for our lovely no hassle sail down to the Narrows and a planned dinner in the pub at Dunalley overnight before going through the canal early the next morning.  Unfortunately the wind picked up to 20 knots, gusting much more, and we got to the bar an hour and a half before high tide with building waves. The boat was rolling and pitching and I was worrying (as usual).  I looked at George and asked, "what are we going to do?", thinking we'd maybe have to tack back for half an hour.  He calmly looked a me, shrugged his shoulders and said (without a hint of alarm), "we're going in".   And we did.  My hands were shaking as I ticked off the passing channel markers as we motored through the surf and into the shallow channel.  Of course we made it in fine.  So did Zofia.  But it would have been better if we had the nice calm winds expected.

That wasn't the end of it.  We still had to travel through the shallow channel to Dunally.  By the time we got there it was gusting 30 knots.  Quite unpleasant.  We didn't get to the pub and it blew and rained all night.

Forlornly looking over at the village of Dunally with a perfectly good pub we were missing.

The next morning the wind had eased but the forecast for the waters to Hobart was awful.  The sky hung heavy overhead grey with fog and drizzle.  We had a booking at 8.00 for the bridge over the canal but wondered if it wouldn't be better to either stay in Dunally for another night or go through to and anchor in a bay on the other side to wait for a better weather window.  After discussions with Zofia the decision was left open .. we would go through at the booked time and see what the weather looked like at the other side.

Zofia passing through the canal bridge with Southern Bell close behind.

Traversing the canal was straight forward.  We had planned the tide time for slack water but the current was still against us at 3 knots meaning the engine had to fight it the whole way.

Once on the other side the wind was starting to build and the cloud had descended down close to the water making the bay ahead look ominous.  We met a boat at the head of the Frederick Henry Bay sailing along slowly.  It turned out to be Zofia's friend, and ours now too,  Chris on SV Bilbungra.  He's local and well versed in the changing weather here. Following some texts Eva said Chris thought the wind wouldn't be a strong as forecast and we should go on to Hobart.  With that the 3 boats set course down Frederick Henry Bay toward Storm Bay, the Iron Pot and Hobart.  The wind was right on our bow and building as the 3 of us took on a different sailing mode.  Bilbungra tacked across the wind and waves with all sails up, Zofia tried sailing and tacking but ended up motor sailing.  Southern Belle, with George saying "stuff this", motored hard into the waves cutting a rhumb line straight down to the Iron Pot turn and the Derwent River.   I was very happy as we turned in behind the lee and calm of Betsey Island after only an hour of wave bashing!  Rounding the Iron Pot - which is a light house - we had 25 knots plus behind us so the headsail unfurled and pushed us along at over 7 knots toward Hobart.  Finally.

Our berth in the Derwent Sailing Squadron was waiting for us and easy to get into on our own.  We quickly secured the boat and walked over to the Royal Tasmanian Yacht Club where Zofia was headed for their berth to lend a hand.  Good thing we did.  There was another boat in their assigned berth.  Following more than a few phone calls, moving a dingy that had been tied across another berth and lots of maneuvering Zofia down a long jetty and reversing along a walkway they were secure in their berth.  Time to celebrate arrival.

And after a long journey the moon welcomed us to a beautiful Hobart.