Australia - Pacific Crossing Notes: A Sailor's Guide to the Coconut Milk Run - page 437

Getting Ahead of Ourselves
Namani made such good speed that we realized we might get ahead of ourselves. If the
good times lasted, our eventual arrival in Brisbane would be at nighttime - not an enticing
proposition given the shoal-ridden approach to Moreton Bay. In the second snap decision
of the trip, we hung a sharp left and pulled into Coffs Harbour thirty-six hours after leaving
Port Stephens, just beating the setting sun in. We much preferred a night at anchor to a
night heaving-to among ships, so we grabbed the chance at a solid night's sleep before con-
tinuing on to Brisbane, 235 miles away. We knew the layout of Coff's Harbour by heart,
having initially cleared in to Australia there: the jetty, the breakwater, and the marina to one
side. We dropped the anchor in eighteen feet and immediately treated ourselves to a quick
dip in the water, followed by a fresh water shower and a hearty dinner. Our one regret is
that we couldn't go for a rejuvenating swim. Just six weeks earlier, a surfer had been killed
by a shark in the immediate area.
On our last visit, we'd spent two weeks in Coffs Harbour waiting for a weather window to
head south to Sydney. Then, as now, we ended up tackling the distance in several hops.
This time, we had the luxury of a stable weather system, unlike the very short windows of
opportunity of our previous trip. Still, we made it a quick pit stop and headed out early the
next morning for a final push north. In contrast, leaving Sydney had been a much harder
proposition, at least mentally. I always get a case of the nerves about heading offshore after
a few weeks close to land. The minute I head out, however, the butterflies are gone with the
wind.
Thus far on this trip, we'd sailed twenty-four hours, stopped for a night in Port Stephens,
then sailed another thirty-six hours before stopping for another night off - quite a comfort-
able schedule, as it turned out. We did, however, hope to make the remaining distance in
one long hop, although we did note alternative pull-in points such as Yamba, at the mouth
of the Clarence River, and Ballina, on the Richmond River. We were in no rush to conclude
our final voyage afloat, but neither did we want to drag out the inevitable.
As we bid goodbye to New South Wales and watched southern Queensland slide into view,
it seemed as if shipping traffic thinned. Fishing boats were out in full force, though, includ-
ing slow trawlers that slalomed left, then right, then left again. By day, their movements
were easier to predict. We could relax more and watch the coast roll by, thinking of Captain
Cook discovering this continent and its people for the first time. It's not the most inspiring
coast, however, with dun-colored hills marked only by the odd beacon or jutting cape. At