We pulled into Hamilton Island to pick up our friend Robert who flew up from Melbourne to spend a week with us. The island is operated as a big resort with all the stuff that goes along with it. Daytime resembles an ant colony, as holiday makers scurry around hurriedly in little golf carts on a mission to nowhere, by night silence replaces daily hub of activity, neon signs flash over empty bars and cafes, large fancy power boats sit sparking still in the marina, waiting patiently for the next day's polishing to begin all over again.
We left immediately for the tranquility of Whitehaven Beach which only occurs at evening time when all the day trippers return to where they came from. Robert fell into the swing of things quite rapidly as we pitched and tossed over the boiling stew of water towards the anchorage. We were all a bit "crook" as they say here in Australia, except for Kara of course, who likes to surf the waves by sliding from one end of the cockpit to another.
The breeze had increased sending a chill over the rippled waters of the WhitSundays, which kept all but the hardiest of folk (that would be Uwe) out of the water. A roly day sail brought us to the tip of Hook Island, into a pretty little spot called Butterfly Bay. A continuous and steady stream of dive boats and pleasure boats came and left to enjoy the fish life and clear water. Only those souls with that steely Germanic blood braved the waters without wetsuit. Robert had promised us a fish, expert fisherman that he is. He almost succeeded when he and Kara dropped a line of the boat while at anchor, something bit, but we were ill equipped to aid him with a net to hoist the fish on deck, and it swam away. He was disappointed; I was impressed that we ALMOST got one from the boat, which was a new experience. We sailed all day and night downwind up to Townsville with our brightly colored gennaker pulling us along swiftly and comfortably all the way. A day that started out somewhat roly emerged into one of those days where you wonder why it can't always be like this or forget that it could ever be any other way. We are unable to hoist our mainsail due to the fact that 4 of the travelers are kaput. It was the very first time we left the gennaker up for the whole night; usually we take it down for fear of not being able to take it down in the dark if it starts to blow. It was a very comfortable ride. For even extra bonus points, with a 3rd person on board, we slept for longer intervals. Early in the afternoon, we pulled into sunny Townsville, where it truly feels like we have entered the tropics.