Writing in paradise…

We’re still floating around this beautiful waterway – Broken Bay, just 16 nautical miles north of Sydney. It’s a huge harbour, full of long, wide arms (called creeks), with snug little coves and quiet anchorages off each of them. This is the Hawkesbury region, one of Australia’s earliest settled places after Port Jackson. Read more »

Just keep Australia on your right

You really appreciate the size of this country when you travel slowly down its east coast. From hot and humid Cape York, with its forbidding, barren-looking landscapes which gradually morph into mountainous rainforest, to the gentle rolling hills along the northern NSW coast and then the majestic Sydney Heads, it’s a huge island.

We cast off the lines again on 8 January and headed for Sydney, expecting it might take four or five days. In spite of sometimes contrary winds, we had an absolutely brilliant sail down, arriving at Sydney Heads exactly 2 days and 19 hours later. Tramontana is very fast boat when she gets her head, and she sure let us know what she could do this time.

Leaving Scarborough marina

We had a third crew member on board, the delightful Bill Hatfield, a very fit 76 year old glider pilot, champion rower, and very experienced sailor. That’s one of the things I love about sailing – the people you meet. He’d been admiring Tramontana on his way past to his own yacht in Scarborough marina, and ended up coming with us. His own sailing history would make a great book – heading out into the Pacific some forty years ago with his wife, in a 24ft yacht. That’s a very small boat. They rounded Cape Horn, and spent a couple of years exploring South America and the Falklands, eventually returning home via the Panama Canal, Easter Island, Pitcairn, oh, and a brief stopover to have a baby in Fiji along the way!


Something we did this time, was register with the Volunteer Marine Rescue network, a collection of people who man the radio and keep an eye on boats out at sea. As you pass their location, they hand you on to the next station along the coast. It’s a good feeling knowing that if all your other SOS systems failed – radio, phone, EPIRB -someone would notice you hadn’t logged in at a certain time, and eventually a search would happen.

Mt Warning

Other people were watching out for us too. My sister lives at Broken Head, just south of Cape Byron, so when we neared that point I phoned her. They could see our sail 11 miles out to sea for about 40 minutes. It was strange speaking to her on the phone as we sailed past!


A lot of dolphins have called by on this voyage. Somewhere between Scarborough and Sydney, a pod of about forty dolphins surrounded the boat just before sunrise and stayed for a couple of hours, surfing, leaping out of the water, rolling and flashing white bellies at us. All sizes from very large to little tiny ones. Every so often one would roll sideways and an eye would stare up at the human staring back. I wish they could talk. No successful still photos but some great video footage.

                            Dolphin morning…


We were within 10 to 15 miles off the coast most of the way, until the last 24 hours when we ran almost a hundred miles offshore to get better sailing conditions and pick up an expected wind change to easterly.



It worked a treat and gave us a good angle to sail into Sydney, and we passed through the Heads at exactly 6 am. It was dull and rainy but it was exhilarating!

Dropped anchor in Little Manly Cove, cooked a huge breakfast, and then caught up on much-missed sleep.




Entering Sydney Harbour – North Head through the early morning rain


We dropped Bill ashore the next morning to catch the ferry and train to the airport for his flight home. A few hours later we dinghied back across to Manly, thinking about finding some lunch when my phone rang, and a familiar voice said, “We’re on the Manly ferry and we can see your boat.” It was good friends of ours from Darwin, the Edwards family, en route through Sydney headed home to New Zealand. We knew they were travelling but thought they’d left Sydney the day before, while they were wondering if we’d arrived yet. And there was Tramontana, out the windows of the Manly ferry! We couldn’t have planned it. Lunch was a lot longer and more fun than we’d expected!

So, here we are in Sydney Harbour, now moored for a day or two at Spit Bridge. First time our boat has stopped the traffic! The weather and some maintenance requirements will keep us here for a few more days but In the meantime we’ll do some exploring by water of this magnificent harbour. It was good to be back in Manly too, the setting for a lot of the action in Ronan’s Echo.

It’s quite a buzz seeing a bridge open up for you



One lovely thing that happened in Scarborough before we left, was catching up with fellow writer Helene Young. We first met in Cairns several years ago. Helene writes excellent romantic suspense, and her latest one, Safe Harbour, is a great read. She and her husband live on their catamaran in Brisbane. It’s rare that I get to spend time with other writers, but it’s so inspiring when I do. My own work in progress is on hold at the moment, but it’s simmering away in the background.


Tea, anyone?

When people write about sailing, it’s usually about the dramatic stuff – storms, near-disasters, actual disasters, exciting or terrifying experiences. But in between those fairly rare events, sailing is a lot more comfortable and safe. Often there’s not enough wind, let alone too much. You’ve tried all the possible sail combinations to keep the boat moving and sometimes you just have to give up and start the engine. Read more »

Middle Percy Island to Scarborough, Qld

One of the things I’m enjoying about cruising down the Queensland coast, is the early dawn. After nine hours of night, which are very pleasant when all is calm and moonlit, but not so pleasant when it’s black, windy and turbulent, the discerning of a faint glow in the east is cause for celebration. 4am on a cloudless morning sees the eastern sky starting to pale, and by 5am you’re wondering where you left your sunglasses, because you’ll need them in another half hour.

We usually up anchor and leave by 5, and get a few good miles under the belt before breakfast. On a good day we can cover over 100 nautical miles, even sailing to windward as we have been so far. The conditions have been varied on the voyage – a lot of strong winds around 35kn and some heavy seas, but the boat handles it well (a lot better than me!) I’m not a fan of speed and strong winds, but I’m improving. I think. Read more »

Cairns to Middle Percy Island

I now understand that old sailors’ maxim: “A gentleman never sails to windward”, although I think they were more concerned about spilling the drinks. It’s certainly a lot more work sailing into the wind, requiring more tacking, hauling on ropes and grinding away at winches. My hands, gone soft and smooth after years of city living, have callouses again which appeared so fast I think they were just lying dormant under the skin.

Cairns was a welcome respite after the slog from Cape York. The genoa and staysail needed repairs, so the moment we tied up, we pulled the sails down and rang a number we found on the internet. Read more »

Cape York to Cairns

Entering Torres Strait

Lex and I sailed out of Darwin on 8 October, arriving at the Torres Strait islands after a non-stop seven day passage. The biggest discovery about the Straits was the wind! Rarely stops blowing, and had a lot of yachts hemmed in for a while. After exploring Thursday and Horn islands, we set off for Cairns on the 19th October…


31 October – Hooray, Cairns! We motored quietly into the marina yesterday morning just after daybreak, at the end of a 24 hour sail from Lizard Island. It’s been a long haul from Horn Island. Read more »

If someone remembers you, you’re not lost

I was tidying up my work space this morning and it got me thinking about the things I was picking up. Or more to the point, what wasn’t there. We’ve lived on a boat for the last six years, and my writing space is a bit small. Just part of the saloon table, where my MacBook Air sits. When we lived onshore, I had my own room to work in, a delightful, odd-shaped, attic-like place upstairs that held crammed bookshelves, an old Huon pine cabinet with wide flat drawers full of art paper and paints, a big table and a comfortable chair. Read more »