Australia - Part 10

Indulgence ship’s log day 6

Our stores are beginning to run a little short, the soft tack is weevilly, the fruit has seen better days and all our meat is gone; fortunately we have literally gallons of fruit juice and even more beer.

A rather breezy night with some cheeky chop and occasional showers which would not have been an issue had the Chief Buffon not elected to sleep on deck.

With some decent wind we decided to sail out of the anchorage until the depth alarm went off (it was showing 0.6 metres (they draw 1.8 metres)) and it was decided that the iron donkey was probably a safer course of action.

As we reached the open seas the winds freshened quickly and the washing was all deployed and with the ballast on the windward side (i.e. First Lieutenant and Chief Buffon) the good ship really showed her class bowling along at 11 knots and 3 fathoms.

Lunch was a rather strange a affair enlivened by the Master and Commander’s attempts to fix the tender’s outboard (it has broken again) and tearing the start cord out of it. Not a helpful step. He had however sensibly already untied from the Indulgence and was drifting away at an alarming rate of knots. Much to his relief and everyone else’s surpise the Chief Engineer dived in and swam over to help him paddle back to safety.

A further treat was the Chief Buffon's discovery of a novel use of a snorkel mask - preventing tears whilst chopping onions.

Some more hard sailing in the afternoon


brought us back into Hamilton Island for a sheltered night in light of the weather predictions and so no anchor horse up of the day today but the Master and Commander did at least horse up the parking only not putting a hole in the boat thanks to the good lady fortunately placed on the pontoon who managed to hold them off; at the expense of two broken arms.

With port duly made and so many days at sea behind us the crew did what every sailor would do in such circumstances, doned their best shore-going rig and hit the local bars and nightclubs. The rather astonishing local licensing laws prevented them ordering straight Sambucas and despite their best efforts at persuading them that “Sambuca on the rocks (with just one little rock)” was a recognised cocktail they were thwarted.

The Chief Purser was found in a dishevelled state in the early hours in the cockpit and the rest are a similar shower.