When you finally get to lay eyes on your parents after an 8 month adventure at sea you are surprised at the grief stricken look they wear, mixed with relief, and tears of happiness. You then get a rush of guilt for putting them through such pain when you have been out there enjoying the Pacific and all it has to offer. No matter how many posts you upload that you are happy healthy and careful, it only takes a television news break of high seas and strong winds that has a boats within it's grasp to wipe any comfort you have given. However, the last 4 day dash from Noumea to Bundaberg was exhilarating from the minute the lear jet swooped low to take a good look at Condesa as she surged onwards out of French waters homeward bound. The last half of the crossing had us race the weather into the Bundaberg port. All forms of contact with land regarding weather updates were under way as we counted down the nautical miles home. At first we sailed... then we motor sailed ... then really we really motored and really sailed to try to make it to land to enable us to hide from what was coming our way up the Eastern coast. It goes without saying that our 2 boys also carried that concern but never let on throughout the journey that was. It was 18months ago I recall them both informing us that you could put Condesa on a transport ship and get her home without the risk. But it was the journey, the experience, the education, the lifestyle we were yearning and the adventure and achievement was foremost in our minds.
So back to the weather the anxiety and the concern. As the shifts in weather occurred, returning home became more of a challenge. On the 4th day I woke at 6am to the increase sound of the engine intensifying. The VHF was broadcasting the next weather report with volume up to override the engine noise. The 2 boys also were texting and ringing through many changes as they had obtained more information about the massive high and low coming out of the Tasman, predicting 6-7mtrs seas. We know this coast with can be both fast changing and unrelenting - no more 'pacific', clearly. We had already altered our course from Bundaberg to Brisbane and then back to Bundaberg to make closest point of land from sea. The pressure was building in more ways than one, but we knew what we had to do and were outwardly calm onboard. We had come so far in a myriad of conditions and mostly beguine; it now appeared we may have been going to be put to the test in the last leg knowing what was coming our way. I surfaced and saw 'he whose hum was on the back burner' and Pedro heads together doing the maths on distance and speed over ground and thought that something like comfort food was in order. They watched.... we watched... everybody watched as Condesa stomped through the confused and rising seas with the big wind in her main and the motor piercing her heart reminding her to hurry us back home.
To embrace! ..... Finally embrace that moment of our return - it was so heavily weighted just as it was for our departure. We had hoped it was only us onboard and our informants who knew what was out there but we could see that pressure had built on land too. Little by little the pressure inching it's way into minds as the many months sailed by both on land and sea.
La Condesa Del Mar, in all her glory made it into the Bundaberg seaway just in the nick of time. The familiar Australian accent on radio welcoming us and the clear ongoing procedures was like the end of an era had come; and was as warm as a mother's hug. However before I wrap up, I have to tell you that she looked magnificent coming in through the narrow leads heeling over as the afternoon sun wrapped her 4 full sails in sunshine trying to counteract the chill in the air. We were so proud to bring her into Australian waters. She stoically sailed by the other yachts who had also dropped anchor and awaiting next steps. She silently drifted on parallel with the Bundaberg Port Marina and turned her face up into the breeze and gave one last shimmer before all 4 heavy and overworked sails dropped in effortlessly and unison to the wet salty decks. Now here with anchor dropped safely we still have on the forward decks the last of the emergency fuel drums almost done reflecting the half full/ half empty emotions we had inside.