Well it never rains but it pours seems to be the story for those down under as well as little old England. I has been no consolation to hear of England's sorry summer records of rain any more than it might you to know that our Barrier Reef experience has been in rain, grey clouds and strong winds, as well as record breaking rainfall!



When Peter John left us in the Whitsunday Islands, we enjoyed two days of sunshine, with a biting cold wind, but at least we have seen those beautiful islands as they should be, and had our only really excellent snorkel there, with wonderful brightly coloured corals, and fabulous sometimes large fish to be seen, plenty of sting-rays along the beaches, and turtles too. It was also fun to catch up with Brits:Vicki and Dave on 'Papillon', who we haven't seen since Fiji, we enjoyed the only evening we've had outside, in their cockpit, (admittedly with fleeces on), and made great in-roads into their cellar!



However while we were there, the wind built, and the clouds came in, so it was time to move on from these paradise islands, and an overnight sail took us to Townsville, and Breakwater marina. This was a bit of a business stop, where we took off our Air-X wind generator, only fitted in New Zealand, and not working since the gales of Scawfell, and arranged for it to be sent back to a dealer in Brisbane. Giles also fitted new windlass switches on deck, and took advice on the fridge which he managed to get working again. We also found the right parts to re plumb the water maker filler, which had been badly installed in Annapolis, causing huge air pressure in the water tank, a job that was long overdue, and had meant that we could only make water when we released the filler cap, not ideal if a wave came shooting along the decks! Ever the optimist I found a good camera shop, and treated myself to a lovely little waterproof digital camera to take snorkelling.



We were also keen to visit the excellent museum there, which houses the wreck of the 'Pandora', the ship that was sent out under the command of Captain Edwards, to recapture the Bounty mutineers; they too ended up doing an extraordinary trip on to Java in an open boat! My cousin Freya worked on the dive 10 years ago, but it remains an on-going project, there is still plenty to retrieve when the next bit of funding comes in.



So on we went from Townsville to nearby Magnetic Island, in time for a walk ashore and a drink at one of the many bars on this very lovely but touristy island. We failed to spot any of the koalas, which are apparently there in some numbers. On again to Orpheus Island, one of the Palm Islands, a lively and very fast sail with 30 knots up our back side! When we arrived at Little Pioneer Bay, there was one other yacht, 'Carpensis' who we had last seen in Vanuatu. The weather was particularly horrible, and our walk ashore thwarted by lack of a decent path, although we did bash through the jungle for a bit, and went to see the remains of a 19th century stone built house.



Orpheus is the only one of the Palm Islands which one can land on, the others are all Aboriginal, and sadly do not have a good reputation for crime. We discovered later, that one of the islands had been a leper colony, while the largest island had been used to house evacuated Aborigines from the York peninsular during the war. Many had returned home, but those that remained did not have their family or their history, so were deeply unsettled.



We had to catch a favourable tide for the entrance to Lucinda the next morning. This shallow sandy entrance takes you inside Hinchinbrook Island, as the pilot book declaimed 'the most dramatic and beautiful scenery on the east coast of Australia'! We thought twice about wasting time on the entry, but decided to be optimistic, in spite of the relentless rain and low cloud! At one brief moment Giles spotted a dramatic waterfall, and the mountains on the landward side did eventually reveal themselves, but sadly the cloud sat almost kissing the sea, and the rain continued unabated. It was hugely disappointing, as this is real crocodile country, and we had been assured that we were bound to see them here, but crocs like us only come out onto the sand when the sun is shining. They have to absorb heat and light from the sun, a problem shared by the solar powered buoyage. Lack of sunshine turned them from navigational aids to navigational hazards.



In spite of the rain, Hinchinbrook was a beautiful peaceful place, and we had one of our calmest anchorages there inside Scraggy Point, where we anchored off some ancient stone built Aboriginal fish traps similar to the ones we had seen inland in Brewarrina, which were 40,000 years old! From here it was another grey drizzly day for the 100 mile sail to Cairns, meaning I couldn't see Cooper Mountain, but made do with Cooper point! We arrived in Cairns in the dark. When morning came we were astonished to find that we had anchored right next to Wylo II, Nick Skeats, a friend from Opua, a true water gypsy if ever there was one! He is on his way home in his 31' steel boat that he built himself. His only aids to navigation are old charts, a sextant and a GPS. No luxuries like echo sounder or even a VHF. We were thrilled to see him, and later shared some of his excellent rum! Perhaps we'll see him again in South Africa!



Bicycles once again proved a godsend in Cairns, the more so as the only decent chandler was miles away. We needed to do a proper restock, and Cairns has a fabulous market, as well as a good supermarket that you can push a trolly from. It's amazing how much wine you can transport hanging from bicycle handles! Cairns is a buzzy vibrant touristy town, which we liked much better than Townsville, and a decent wireless connection on board to give us internet.



The pressure to reach Darwin is ever with us, so three days later we left Cairns with no rain, and enough visibility to see that there are some mountains behind the town, broken cloud, and the wind only 20 knots. On to Low Island, then next day with the normal 30 knots gusting 40 behind us a fast sail took us to Cooktown. We were intercepted en route by a large Australian customs boat, who took our details, and no doubt checked their data base to make sure that we had the requisite cruising permit and visa.



The Cooktown entrance was shallow with a huge set taking us onto the lee shore, only one leading mark was visible, the other has long since blown down, and anyway there is so little deep water to moor in that it would have been obscured by moored boats. Our arrival was not helped by 40 knot bullets, and very little deep water to manoeuvre in.



We were sceptical about the fact that our Air-X had been posted to Cooktown, but lo and behold on Monday morning there it was waiting for us! We wanted time here to visit the museum, which makes the most of the Captain Cook visit in 1770, when the holed Endeavour limped into Cooktown for repairs. It therefore claims itself as the first colonised place in Australia, - although there was a long gap after Cook left! The cemetery here which is on the outskirts of town is a moving story of Australian settlement in the 1800s. One grave marks a father and five of his sons. It was a thriving gold town in the late 19th C, and had a huge Chinese population of 19,000 which has completely vanished, they were sent back to China. Cooktown is now a shadow of its former self, but we liked its out-back feel, the wide roads with old bars and buildings lining the street. It is the last outpost on the trip on dirt roads up to Cape York, Australia's northern tip, and tarred roads only arrived here earlier this year.



The town is surrounded by Aboriginal lands, and we decided to spend another couple of days so that we could go and visit some Aboriginal rock art. We were duly collected by Willie early one morning, and driven off into the bush, where we met a few other tourists who were joining the tour. We walked for 4 or 5 hours looking at a variety of drawings of indeterminate date, some were 20th C., and others much older. It was a fascinating walk not just for the opportunity to see the art, but also for the stories that went with it, and the insight into plants and insects which enabled aborigines to live in the bush, as well as the pleasure with which Willie ate green tree ants!



So after three days in Cooktown, Lizard Island beckoned. We were again following in the footsteps of Captain Cook, and like him we climbed the 1,000 foot hill named Cook's Look in good time next morning. We had sun, that stranger we had hardly seen for three weeks. Our climb was well rewarded and we imagined his horror when looking out at the reefs in all directions. When he did eventually get through the outer reef he was almost wrecked, as the wind died on him, and the tide set him so fiercely on shore, luckily they managed to find another way back inside the dreaded reef, where it was shallow enough to drop an anchor, and he had to continue to do the passage which we are doing now, threading between reefs, which at this end of the Barrier Reef compress the channels far more than further south.



We had a magical day on Lizard Island, and at last managed to do some snorkelling, which did not sadly live up to expectations. The coral at this end of the reef has been badly affected by the 'crown of thorns' star fish, which is destroying much of it. The astonishing things here are the enormous and colourful giant clams, which measure about 1.5 metres across, as well as an abundance of brightly coloured fish.



We could have happily stayed much longer on Lizard Island, but were thankful that the weather had changed just in time for us to enjoy it at its best, so we left Mrs Watson's Bay, and headed on, aiming to do an overnight passage and put some miles behind us. The bay is named after the unfortunate lady who lived on the island in 1860, married to a b?che de mer (sea cucumber) fisherman. It was a sacred island to the aborigines, and when they murdered one of the Chinese servants, she fled in a large copper boiling pot with another Chinaman and her baby. She kept a diary of her days afloat, but died on another island 10 miles on from dehydration.



We took an offshore route that had been recommended by Tim and Ginny LeCouteur, on the RCC website. It proved excellent, and saved a dog-leg cutting about 25 miles off our passage. With the change in the weather came a change in our fishing luck, and we quickly caught a shark mackerel measuring 75 cms, it was a new species for us, and made delicious eating.



We had thought we would press on, but the pretty bay of Portland Roads looked worth a visit, so we sailed in there and dropped the hook yesterday afternoon. We rowed ashore, as it was low tide, and a longish way to carry the dinghy, and were greeted by a band of Aborigine children holding a baby crocodile that they had just caught! They had carefully bound up its jaw with a shoelace, and were altogether very pleased with their new pet! Imagine therefore my disappointment to discover that the battery that I had so carefully changed in my camera before we set off was dead, it was particularly sad as this was a true Aborigine settlement, which we had not seen elsewhere in Australia. We went for a walk along the red dust road, and met a white Australian who lived there. This is truly in the middle of nowhere! The other boat in the bay, a motor cat called Black Gold, invited us on board, eager to show us their newly designed boat that runs exclusively on either bio fuel or waste oils. It seemed very inspirational, particularly as their aim is to set up places where they can collect waste oil, making a double environmental benefit.



So now on to Cape York, and tomorrow should find us at the top of mainland Australia, edging into the Torres Straits, and ready for the long hop west across the Bay of Carpentaria towards Darwin.