Sniff 'n Go

Coffs Harbour. A pleasant, small fishing harbour and marina created by breakwaters joining the islands to the land. Just like Croabh Haven.

It had showers, laundry, small shops, restaurants and bars. And live music. It seemed like a great place to stay awhile particularly as after the next 24 hours of northerlies a week of strong southerlies is forecast.

"Right" we said, "we'll base ourselves here and tour for a week." Decision made, we went to the pub, signed onto the wifi and, no sooner than the first schooner's slipped down than, "You've Got Mail". (Has anyone other than Tom Hanks seen this?). After ploughing through the kind offers from apparently gorgeous Russian girls eager to make me happy, an email from Aussie Dave and Galley Slave Jean appears. Now, Dave is just finishing his mostly single handed circumnavigation and is on the last stretch to home in Melbourne. He's been on the last stretch for some time now.

They want to go south. The winds are going north. It's taken them maybe four weeks of hanging around to catch the rare northerlies and make ground south. Consequently, Dave's strong advice was, "If you sniff a northerly, GO"

Oh bollocks. Dave and Jean are only a couple of hundred miles ahead of us, maybe two days sailing at most but its taken them weeks to get there struggling to find the northerlies in between the fairly consistent southerlies.

And not only had we sniffed a northerly, we were sat there with a forecast of 24 hours of north 15-20 sandwiched between southerlies. I guess Dave and Billy Connelly might say its Rule #4, Don't waste a northerly.

So, Coffs based touring plan was binned and we jumped on the north 15-20 and headed out. Well, we would have if the forecast was remotely accurate. For five hours we beat south, then, as time was running against us we motor sailed until finally, about midday, the wind backed to the east. And then, what a night.

With the winds alternating between south and north there's two opposing swells running. Add to that a south setting, one to four knot East Australian Current and the sea state is what they call, "rough".

Once the north breeze arrived it got faster and faster. One slab, then two and genoa rolled away to a hanky and we were still blasting along taking green and white water from all directions. Wet 'n wild. And that was just my missus.

The all weather entrance to Port Stephens loomed early morning and by noon we were anchored and nervously sitting in the cockpit while a forty knot lightning and rain storm passed over thinking that maybe the $115 marina might not have been a bad idea.