You guessed it! Condesa is southbound, leaving Lizard Island behind.
We are counting our blessings to have had the weather window and the guts to head so far north, knowing people can get caught at Lizard Island for anywhere up to a month waiting for the right forecast (which would send some humming people troppo). What did Pedro say? The biggest thing sailing will teach you?...... is patience.
They wait there because no one likes to bash into the weather to move south. I probably should explain. The underlying pressure to keep moving, is that the insurance companies require vessels to be south of Bundaberg for cyclone season.
However, this rambling was not meant to be about weather. 🙉

We said goodbye at sunset drinks the day prior and parted with a bag of fresh fish fillets, gifted from the young fisherman who wanted nothing in return. Too bad ... he got the beers taking up room in my fridge for his kind gesture!
Ok where was I ..... Yes, the feelings when Condesa turned her back on the kaleidoscope of reefs and marine life and navigated away from her anchorage. He Who Hums so loudly, put up our sails and I played my part in exiting Watson's bay in a very serene and humbled manner equaling the surrounds.
Once settled into the rhythm of the sea, it was sweet grilled Fish salad prepped for lunch and fish disguised in crumbs with vegetables for dinner. Enough to sustain us for the nightsail ahead.
Being the end of the moon's third quarter, the stage was set for a dark voyage. There was nothing to see, not even on land. We travelled with the whoosh of the water that mesmerised us. Whilst the navigational screens had us visibly pointing in the right direction. It was no surprise there was minimal marine traffic around us or on the radio throughout the night as we were sailing in pretty isolated waters far north Queensland.
After 20 hours in next to no wind, we motor sailed toward the distant red and green harbour lights. This sight slowly sharpens your mind the closer you draw near. Eventually, we turned Condesa to landfall and followed the very long channel markers into port, whilst everyone was sleeping.
We dropped our sails first, then entered the rock wall passage and found our allotted mooring. It is here your brain electrifies into 💯ON. He Who Hums was manoeuvring with precision and in the wee hours of the morning I was using my low voice and spotlight to guide Condesa dockside.
All this happened with the lullaby of the one lonely little bird nearby who sensed a new day pending. We tried not to disturb him as 3am was way to early to start the flock of gulls off and I would hate to try to sleep with those guys banging on about picnic scraps and hot chips (as they do in this seaside marina).
We held a little supper of tea and toast before bed where we both silently acknowledge our safe arrival, something we never take for granted.
The pillow never felt so good! (I lie. I say that every night. 😂) The brain had us rocking, while our bodies remained dead still.
I swear the sleep fairy must have circled once with her wand and all the wonders of our Fitzroy Island voyage replayed in fast forward from beginning to end.
We had a solid 4 hours recovery before the seagulls announced another stunning day, the reef tour boats were in action, clearly with some food onboard by the sounds of it.