Knackered of Taswegia
19 February 2019 | Bryan's Corner, Schouten Pass
For a bit of a larf we signed up for the Round Tasmania Rally. Seven hundred miles dodging weather, tides and rocks. Now, we've enjoyed our fair share of rallies, at least the parts I can remember, however, to a degree, we've outgrown them, preferring and able to find our own routes, anchorages and social life. However, our plan with the new boat was to use the tougher weather of Taswegia to build our knowledge of what ropes did what, what buttons to press and generally build confidence in the new steed. Joining the rally seemed like a good way of getting in some hard miles.
So, we've replaced ropes, the buttons, at least on the computers are all goosed and latest, an engine battery went up in smoke. Literally. We haven't actually done much sailing. Just fix things.
On the second down smoke leg of the rally from Port Arthur to Maria Island, I couldn't fathom out where all the amps were going. It wasn't that sunny so there wasn't much input from the solar but we did have the hydro generator down and at six or seven knots that usually puts out amps in the teens, yet we were negative that amount. When we finally anchored in Chinaman's Bay I opened up the engine compartment lid to have a poke around only to smell the stink of rotten eggs and see smoke coming from the battery. Now, I'd both experienced and read about runaway batteries and I guessed this is what we had. The boiling sulphuric acid was the clue. Battery swiftly out then hours of fault finding with the multi meter, kidding on I knew what I was doing, showed everything else was cool, literally. So, divert from the rally and off early to Triabunna, so named as it was the location of Tasmania's first Indian restaurant where Aussie diners, out for their first eastern culinary experience would ask what was best. "What would I recommend?" says the chef. "Either the chicken korma or, perhaps, Try a Bhunna". Hence the village name. Or so I've imagined. Next morning, new battery, and half a dozen Triabunna oysters inside me, off we headed to catch up with the rally and have a barbie on the beach at Schouten Pass. Twenty four miles dead upwind in about ten to fifteen knots and we were the only boat that sailed. Reefs in. Reefs out. Solent in. Code Zero out. Code Zero in. Solent out. And repeat.....all day. By the time we got in we felt we'd done a full Scottish Series race two up and were ready for the barbie on the beach. But horror of horrors. No prawns on the barbie. Instead, trendy hand made, coconut encrusted veggie burgers. No stubbies. Fine vintage red wines.
Whatever happened to stereotypes?