Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
water. We were in constant radio contact and were in sight of each other most of the time.
Gavin and I always suffered depressions of not having girlfriends like normal guys. There
was this couple up ahead now, so happy and together, making it along on their own, and
Gavin and I, it seemed, were to always to spend our lives looking for girls, always on the
outside looking in on other people's happiness. This was really the only negative factor of
this lovely cruise.
We had found a great music station on the radio and left it on constantly. We eventually
reached the large sand dune of Fraser Island and veered inland between the ocean and the
dune. It was a huge, sluggish looking island of beach sand as far as the eye could see. The
water immediately became calm, like a big lake. We still had plenty of wind but without the
uncomfortable swell that accompanied it. We were able to anchor at night and slept rest-
fully in relative comfort and with few mosquitoes.
Gavin had the fishing line out and we caught several fish, which we shared with the couple
on occasion. We sailed into an area with narrow channels and had to be on our toes with
the navigation, as there were shallows here that we could easily run aground on. We were
following the couple down one of these buoy marked channels one day when they took an
early turn to starboard. I should have known better and not been so hasty to follow. This
was one of the few times I cast caution to the wind and regretted it. Suddenly Déjà vu
slowed to a standstill and slew around. We had run aground. “Quick, get down the sails!” I
yelled at Gavin, and I turned on the engine. I tried in vain to go astern and then forward but
to no avail. I got onto the radio and advised the couple we had run aground. He reminded
me that the tides were fairly high and low in this part of the world and hoped that the tide
was coming in. Of course it wasn't! Murphy does not work like that!
It was too late to do anything now, and we watched sadly as the seawater drained rapidly
away, exposing Déjà vu up to her keel. She lay down reluctantly in the mud on her star-
board beam, giving in to the rapidly lowering water level in quiet dignity. We raced around
picking up sliding objects as gravity turned our world on its side.
The couple came over later as the tide was coming in. They were to attempt to use their out-
board engine on their inflatable dinghy attached to a halyard at the top of Déjà vu's mast to
try to careen us over when the water was high enough. We had also rowed out the biggest
anchor to kedge her mast over as much as possible, thus presenting as much floating hull
to the water as possible.
It wasn't from lack of trying. He took several fast runs at it, and I was almost afraid he
would damage the top of the mast. The idea was a good one, but it wasn't working. I was
advised by a passing boat owner to call up the coast guard. This apparently happened quite
often. They would come out and tow grounded boats out of the mud for a donation.