Dream come true: sailing under the Sydney Harbor Bridge after crossing the Pacific Ocean. Yep, we finally feel complete, as though we can now say we really did it. Even though the final piece of the puzzle was on someone else's boat, it feels great. We arrived at the North Head of Sydney Harbor at 4am, an hour before sunrise. Lachlan was at the helm, finishing off the last of his watch, and reliving happy memories of sailing in Sydney from a decade ago, before he moved north. The harbor is beautifully marked for night navigation, with lead-in lights through the headlands and down to the main part of the harbor where the city and bridge come into view as you round the corner. We wondered if the Opera House and bridge would be lit up for Christmas, but I think they're taking a break from all the hullabaloo over Oprah's recent high-profile visit, which included a huge "O" emblazoned on the bridge. As both landmarks sat quietly in the dark, we motored under the center of the bridge, a faint hint of morning light dawning, around The Rocks, the oldest part of Sydney, into Darling Harbor and near the Maritime Museum, where an old restored ship much like, or exactly like (I wasn't sure) the Endeavor, Captain Cook's first ship.

As we came back toward the bridge we had enough light to take a few pictures of the 5 of us posed on the foredeck while an overtaking ferry boat slowed and waited, perhaps knowing his wake would throw us all from the bow with nobody at the helm ... we hurried our efforts, returned to the cockpit, and waved as he passed.

The trip was good. I enjoyed the company immensely, the various personalities making things interesting. Neil is the owner of Spirit 7, and plans to live aboard in Sydney Harbor. Lachlan is a fairly new Catalina 42 owner, with plans to do more extensive sailing, and joined us for some offshore experience and tips on navigation. Michael is a seasoned sailor with lots to share about sailing Australia's east coast, and was a great asset, cheerfully assuming the role of Radio Guy, reporting in to the Volunteer Marine Rescue folks every 6-10 hours as we made our way south. He also made great coffee. Allan and I were there to lend our offshore sailing and passage-making experience to the mix.

The bed situation was complex and we never really worked it out with any rhyme or reason, with 5 people and 3 beds; two of the people married, the rest all guys and not really interested in snuggling. But it worked out, mainly because good attitudes prevailed and because Neil, Lockie and Mike were quite willing to roll with the punches, sleeping on the settee bed in the main cabin or the aft cabin in turns, in trade for a few days of fun.

We were disappointed that the wind only occasionally afforded us some good sailing; most of the time we had to motor due to lights winds or southerlies. Day Two provided some exciting thunderstorm action, with evening storms in all quadrants, moving quickly and close. Luckily, we had the fabulous EAC, Eastern Australia Current (Yes! It really does exist!) giving us up to 4 knots of push, and with the engine straining at 2800 rpm, we were able to outrun a big line of storms behind us, seeing at times over 10 knots of speed-over-ground. We had stuffed our electronics in the oven, which I rushed to cool after making meat pies, shut off all electrical, including running lights, for an hour, and sped along stealthily watching some serious lightening jump from cloud-to-cloud and cloud-to-sea. The Yanmar engine (I really love these Yanmars) performed perfectly, holding a nice temperature and purring willingly until we were clear. The storms gave us a chance to talk strategy and make alternate plans if things didn't let up, which they did.

Now Allan and I are in the Middle Harbor Yacht Club, charging up my computer, checking email, and waiting for our 2pm check-in time at a nearby hotel. A flurry of activity on the docks below provides some entertainment -- the Sydney-Hobart Race starts on Boxing Day, December 26th, and the MHYC is a serious racing club; many of the boats are in the Sydney-Hobart race and today is a training day for them. Focus and efficiency are the mood on the docks, under cloudy skies and with a good breeze for today's sail. Huge, heavy, silver and expensive-looking sails clog the docks, being repaired and checked. We understand they all leave at noon, which was 9 minutes ago, and then we're helping Neil move his boat into another slip. But so far, no movement below, so we'll continue to relax while the yacht club employees ready the restaurant for dinner and some smooth-voiced crooner sings meltingly over the speakers to a velvet jazz piano.

(Later) We've settled into our hotel room, a small apartment with a kitchenette bigger than the galley I've lived with for 18 months, a full oven and huge microwave, a giant ironing board which I hope I won't need, and a washer/dryer in the room! Based on the great view of Sydney harbor, it looks like we're in the same neighborhood as the dentist in "Finding Nemo." The hotel is in the suburb of Cremorne on the north side of the harbor, far from the areas I've usually tramped in this town, but bus and train service in Sydney are very good. Internet, on the other hand, is more challenging than we've had on the entire trip; even in French Polynesia we could have Internet on our boat much of the time. Here, the in-room hook-up fees are astronomical, leading us to walk 10 blocks to a dark and seedy convenience store and Internet facility that won't allow me to use my own laptop. We left our cell phone in Sanctuary Cove, as well as Allan's headset, so no phone, no Skype, restricted Internet. Hmmm, a message, perhaps? Are we over-communicators? Time to chill out, maybe? Gotta go. The view awaits.