How Our dream of Owning a Cruising Sailing Catamaran Came True

Chapter 1 The Dream

There are many theories about the human psyche that are all about different types of thinking among humans. Me, I’ve always been a dreamer. I have always got pictures in my head. My dreams are of taking a slightly differing path. My dreams are of adventure. My dreams are about living life.

My dreams are rarely fantasies. Fantasy is a dream that won’t become reality. Many people have the fantasy of winning lotto but rarely, if ever, buy a ticket. Dreams however, have the potential to be real. My dreams have led me to succeed in business, have a fulfilling relationship and have given me the opportunity to experience living.

Many times I’ve wanted to stop them. To turn off the pictures and have the opportunity to be present in the moment would be quite new. To just “smell the roses” without dreaming up a method to bottle the smell and sell it through a listed company could, I imagine be very peaceful.  But, the dreams don’t stop. I just have a fantasy that they might.

I even sought counseling because I was so driven and single minded in the pursuit of one of my dreams, that I ignored all the other aspects of my life that I thought I was pursuing my dreams for.

These counseling sessions taught me that it was OK to dream. As any great adventure, any new journey and any real discoveries start with a dream. What I needed was to dream of a scenario that involved my beloved and other people so that I could share the journey, the efforts and the triumphs of realizing that dream. But where do dreams start.

The seed for the realization of my “Cruising Sailing dream” was planted 6 years ago, on a golf course.  I had taken up playing golf socially as I tried to wean myself off workaholic single mindedness. As we wandered through the scrub looking for my lost golf ball, I casually asked my playing partner, Nigel, what his interests or dreams were.

Nigel told me he had done some sailing when a kid and yearned to buy a yacht and go “cruising sailing”. He spoke of being propelled by the wind to deserted tropical islands, clear turqoise waters and pure white beaches.

Cruising sailing. I liked the sound of that. It also had the right element of adventure for me, as I had probably spent about ten hours on any sea going craft over my 45 years of life, even then, this was as a fee paying passenger on the Rottnest ferry. The dream had begun spawning in my mind.

I asked around my small circle of friends and acquaintances. It seems they all considered themselves quite expert on cruising sailing topics, even though they had spent less time on a on a boat than I had. It seemed the common opinion was about the man eating sharks under those beautiful turquoise waters, and the pirates and other bandits on top. Everyone seemed to have a bad story such as the one about the 3 blokes who went missing from a catamaran in Queensland. I didn’t give these common beliefs a second thought.

Off to the newsagent to purchase all the sailing magazines I could find. Late night searches on the web for stories of cruising sailing adventures, saving suitable looking boats in the favourites a few more hours of discussion, (usually while looking for my lost golf balls), with Nigel, my one known aficionado on cruising sailing.

My cruising sailing dream was planted.

CHAPTER 2  THE TEST.

Like all creations that come into being, at some point dreams that don’t fade into fantasy need to face a test.  This is to see if they are plausible reality, mildly entertaining or in fact just laughable. For me, at this stage, my dream to reality process involves running the idea past my beloved.

My beloved wife Leanne, as in any partnership or union, is of course my opposite. She’s definitely my greatest asset and also my biggest critic. This is because Leanne lets me know within an instant where my dreams rate on the scale of A; thinking I am being funny, to Z; thinking I belong in a funny farm.

She has had to decipher my offerings for the past 30 years, knowing well that her first reaction will either be A) a first hit knock out blow, or B) a mere glancing blow from which I can make a come back, or, C) every now and then she can give a green light.

My best dreams that got the green light from Leanne and became real were travelling around Australia in a bus (kids, budgie and all) and buying a small hobby farm where our kids could have horses, motorbikes and an outdoors life.

These dreams each fell about half way on Leanne’s scale. But then succeeded because she got involved with me in them. The travelling around in a bus dream came just at the time it was needed. The hobby farm came at a time when it was so far from achievable it was ridiculous. Yet the achievement or realization of these dreams played such a huge part in shaping our future together, and, an even bigger part in how our children are today.

I have also learned that with any great proposal the manner of presentation is vitally important.

So it was with a good deal of trepidation that I suggested to Leanne that we go on a kayaking journey around the local small boat harbor. A beautiful day was had paddling about in and out and around the many different boats dangling loosely on their mooring lines. I was hanging around the sailing catamarans, that were similar to those I had been secretly coveting during my late nights on the internet.

“I reckon it would be great to own one of these” I said to Leanne as we floated aimlessly past one of the flashiest boats in the Marina.  I got the answer within a second or too. “yeah, right” she said.  There it was. A middle of the road answer. Only a glancing blow. Maybe. Just maybe.

My cruising sailing dream got a shot of fertilizer to help its growth not long after our kayak mosey round the harbor. We had by this time moved into town and had taken our boxer dog called Molly with us. Molly was used to having some acres to run around on. So, since we’d moved into town, we had to take Molly down to the beach for a run every day.

First thing that was fortunate about this was the best place to walk Molly was along the small boat harbor beach. Second fortunate thing about this was that other people walked their dogs along the same beach. This is when Leanne met Noel and Jennifer, who also had a boxer dog.

Best thing about that was Noel and Jennifer also owned a cat. As in Catamaran. As in a cruising sailing catamaran.

After a few more times walking the dog and crossing paths with Noel and Jennifer, conversations turned to how they came to buy their boat. Then they offered us their DVD on sailing adventures in the Whitsundays.

The test for this dream was passed when I answered a call from Leanne while I was at work. “I have just been kayaking with Luke (our son)” she said excitedly. “I have an idea. I reckon we should look at buying a catamaran.”  All I could do was smile. “What a great idea. That sounds really interesting.” Was my reply.

Test passed with 10 out of 10.

CHAPTER 3 A Taste  Of the Dream

I had hatched a dream of going cruising sailing. I had introduced my dream to my beloved, Leanne. Leanne became interested in exploring the possibilities after she met Noel and Jennifer who owned a cruising sailing catamaran. One day Noel and Jennifer gave us a DVD on sailing in the Whitsunday Islands.

That night we sat down together and watched Noel and Jennifer’s DVD. From it we found out about bare boat chartering. We were hooked. A few weeks later Leanne booked a trip to the Whitsundays, where we would hire a sailing catamaran for ten days.

For those couple of weeks, our excitement built as we talked about days spent lazing about the turquoise waters, or strolling along the beautiful beaches. Suddenly, a question just seemed to come out of nowhere. Who was going to drive the boat?

A quick review of the DVD showed hirers of boats self -skippering or that there were skippers provided if you chose.

Of course, being opposites we had quite differing views. I liked the idea of skippering myself as it appealed to my desire for a bit of an adventure and a challenge. The idea of having a professional skipper appealed to Leanne, as she has suffered many times before from my attempts at a an adventure and a challenge.

Like the time we hired Hobie cats in Mauritius. We had to be rescued the three times we went out in the resort’s Hobie cat.  The first time we ended up upside down on the reef where they told us not to go. The second we ended up upside down and being dragged out to sea by a rip. The third time, we were right way up, but being dragged out sea by the rip. Yes, the same rip. The fourth time we asked to have a go, they very basically said no.

A couple of phone calls to the Whitsundays company settled the score. “Don’t worry”, they said, “for new self -skippers we’ll teach you everything you need to know”. I had great visions of us mastering the concept of sailing using the power of the wind and having a great adventure. Leanne had great visions of us ending up lost at sea and using the power of the sea rescue services.

In the end we did reach an agreement to self- skipper. I would like to say this was because Leanne believed that we would master the art of sailing in no time. But no, it was basically because it was a hell of a lot cheaper.

Soon the day came. We drove from our home in Bunbury, flew from Perth to Brisbane and Brisbane to Proserpine. From Proserpine we caught the bus to Airlie Beach arriving just after dark. As we waited at the marina for our contact and our key, the enthusiasm and excitement of our adventure had now worn down to irritation and irrational thinking from a long day’s travelling. Fortunately, the company allowed us to spend the night on the catamaran we were hiring so I was hopeful that we could unpack and wind our enthusiasm back up once we got on board.

After one some time waiting that seemed to be an hour when it was actually only ten minutes, Wayne appeared out of the dark.  He unlocked the gates and asked us to follow.

We followed Wayne along a wobbly jetty. I was thinking it was a bit strange that the boat hire company couldn’t even properly secure the jetty. If the boats were a bit rickety like the jetty, we might be in for a nightmare. Perhaps we could call it quits and find a good hotel. As I said, a long day’s travel had lead to irrational thinking. How was I to know it was a floating jetty.

Then, Wayne stopped. He turned left and stepped down on to the boat. Leanne and I looked, looked at each other, blinked twice and looked again. “oh my god” we both said in unison. The boat was picture perfect from the brochure. Lit up by soft mood lighting the polished floor invited us on board towards the big soft lounge suite. This wasn’t a boat, surely. This, was a five star holiday apartment!

After a very quick once over the gas, cooking and hot water systems, Wayne left us all alone.  I don’t think we slept at all. I don’t think we even unpacked anything. Unable to wipe the smiles off our faces we explored the boat, opening every cupboard and drawer and wandering all over it, not knowing what to do first.

Daybreak came and after breakfast prepared in the galley, we waited anxiously for our sailing tutor to arrive. We had already walked up and down all the jetties comparing all the other boats. Of course we decided that ours (as we had already branded the one we were hiring) was perfection. In fact, “ours” was actually named “Perfection”.

At about 7.30 am a suntanned, long haired and rather weather beaten looking man came walking along the jetty, jumped on to “our” boat and introduced himself as John. He was our sailing instructor. Leanne and I looked at each other. This guy was to be our teacher? After recovering from our first meeting of a real been there done that, still doing it sailor, the questions fell out of our mouths in quick succession.

Turns out that John had all the answers in very plain terms. Leanne’s main question was “ what if we wake up in the middle of the night and we are way out at sea?” This had been the burning question she’d had for weeks. Come to think of it ever since our sailing attempts in Mauritius. John answered in a matter of fact voice…”you got lucky”. “Got lucky!” retorted Leanne “how’s that?”

“Well, you got lucky because you didn’t end up on the rocks” said John. “First rule of sailing and boats in general… Land is not your friend”. Our sailing lessons had begun.

So we sat on the boat for about four hours taking in information on the gas, the water, the electrical systems of the boat. We opened every drawer, cupboard and hatch on the boat as we had done the night before, only this time with each and every item’s use and purpose explained.

We then were taught to use the VHF radio and radio call-in schedules were explained. Next was the art of basic navigation using the chart plotter, charts and a book that is the sailor’s bible for the Whitsunday islands.

After that, John tied a second dinghy onto the boat. We started up Perfection’s engines and motored out of the marina. Leanne and I were two nervous little puppies set on to the floor of their new home for the first time.

‘”Right”, said John, once we were out in the bay. “Take the wheel and we’ll get these sails up”. Leanne and I looked at each other. “You do it” she said. Big mistake. I took the wheel and daren’t let it go for the next few hours. This meant that when John said “right; pull the Halyard; tie off the main sheet; Bring the traveller across; throw the rope clutch for the furler”; Leanne was the only one with both hands free, so had to take on the rope work.

We had no knowledge of the ropes on a yacht. They just looked like a pile of multi coloured spaghetti.

Fortunately John was patient. Very patient. We sailed up and down the bay outside Airlie Beach at least twenty times. Tacking, jibing, close hauled and goose necking, were trialed. I was getting excited because I was getting the hang of it. “Tacking” I called to my trusty deckhand as I masterfully steered the boat into another maneuver. No response. I looked around to see my trusty deck hand Leanne was in tears from exhaustion. So I quickly called “parking”.

John offered us one last piece of advice as he was about to step into the spare dinghy. “Remember the first rule of sailing. There are only two things that can happen. One is entertainment and the other is excitement.” He said. “Entertainment is when it happens to someone else; Excitement is when it happens to you. Trust me, you don’t want too much excitement”. With that he started up his dinghy and roared off towards the marina.

Anchoring was the last activity we had learnt and John had left us anchored. As John’s dinghy disappeared from view I looked at Leanne. “Well what do we do now?” I asked.

“Go to bed and get some sleep” she said. “Cruising sailing is exhausting!”

“Yeah” I said, suddenly realizing that the adrenalin and nervous energy had left us. “I’ve got a question though. How come there are two first rules of sailing?”

CHAPTER 4 SAMPLING the Dream

After 10 days of hiring the cruising sailing catamaran called Perfection, Leanne and I were convinced it was the best holiday we had experienced.

We had sort of mastered the art of sailing a catamaran. Well, we could get it moving in almost the right direction. We could “park” the boat on a mooring and once we had even plucked up enough courage to anchor near the shore of Whitehaven beach.

Leanne had managed to get some confidence in her VHF radio skills as she called in our whereabouts and our plans for the next day. Then we would sit next to the radio and listen intently as all the other boats announced their location and their plans for the next day. We were hoping that they would not be going our way.

We laughed together when we heard others on the VHF radio doing some really daft things. Like the boat that called up to say they had both motors going and all sails up but were not moving. Only to be told that they were stuck on a well marked sand bar. Or the other boat that called for another anchor as they had used the one provided on board.

I had taken sympathy on Leanne and had agreed to do the rope work while she took the helm as we hoisted the sails, tacked or jibed. Except the time that we approached Hamilton island. As we rounded the corner, the whole race week flotilla was coming towards us. I called for Leanne to steer the boat while I dropped the sails, only to be told that she was on the phone to her mother, and they will all have to go around us!

In the evenings we did, literally nothing.  If you call cuddling on the back step of the boat watching the lights of nearby island resorts twinkling and listening to the turtles gasp for air as they surfaced nearby, doing nothing.

We were amazed at the peacefulness and the calm that settled into our minds as we cruised or not, swam or not and did pretty much what ever we felt like. Or not.

On the last day we were almost mournful. We had to give “our” boat back. It must be the sign of a really good holiday if the worst thing about it is the end.

We were hooked though. Cruising Sailing. I had been   nurturing a dream for about a year leading up to this. Now that we had tasted living as a cruising sailor my mind had started planning for the whole course.

When we arrived back at Airlie Beach, Wayne dragged us kicking and screaming of “our” boat. In order to placate us, he made polite conversation. He told us that other people own all the boats they hire out. The company hires them out for a commission. My entrepreneurial brain went into overdrive. “So If I bought one of these I could hire it out, in order to pay for it”? “Yep” says Wayne. “In fact Robin and I own a boat and hire it out. We just work here to keep and eye on it”.

Wayne invited me to look over his Fusion 40 Catamaran while Leanne did some washing and packing. While it was very hard to compare another with our much loved “Perfection”, Wayne expertly pointed out the differences such as bridge deck clearance, beam and other such terms that I soaked up. Not knowing at the time how relevant this would all be.

I was like a sponge in a bathtub. I couldn’t store the information as quick as it was being provided, before it saturated me and I lost some of it. But I was on to something. Maybe that is how I could realize my dream of owning a cruising sailing catamaran.

CHAPTER 5 It’s a Knockout.

After our trip to the Whitsundays, we were definite. We would love to own our own cruising catamaran. I set about researching all manner of brands and scenarios. Do we buy one that was in charter, or not in charter, or buy an owners version or an ex charter. All ideas were investigated.

We spent dawn to dusk at the Mandurah Boat Show, we continued to rush the newsagents for the latest copies of sailing magazines. I spent countless late nights trawling the web, adding up inventories and comparing values. I came to know very well the intricacy of catamaran brands such as Seawind, Leopard, Fountaine Pajot Lightwave and Lagoon.

I liked the extra head room and feeling of space aboard Noel and Jennifer’s Lagoon. After looking over Wayne and Robyn’s Fusion 40 in the Whitsundays, I really liked the extra beam and the feeling of space that gave. So, my searches would most often include Lagoons or Fusions. One of the first Fusions I found and saved as a definite favourite was a boat named “Easy Tiger”.

“Easy Tiger” was a 2 year old Fusion 40. It had basically everything I thought we would need on board. It looked luxurious in the advertisements, fitted out in a Tasmanian oak looking interior. Problem was that the price was almost double what we had.

For two years our dream continued to bubble away. We pestered the company salesman, took every opportunity to find out more and even went and had a look at the one or two catamarans that came on the market in WA. All this time “Easy Tiger” sat at the top of my favourites list. It was just out of reach.

We also went about the normal routine. I was working at a transport company. Leanne ran a home- based business.

 We needed a fix.  We needed to get out and experience cruising sailing again to keep the dream going.

We found out through friends that there was a local sailing training company. Perfect. Just when we really needed a chance to get out on the water and do some sailing to reacquaint with our dream. After three days of theory, one day  of fine weather sailing in no wind and the third morning of rough weather sailing in gale force wind, Leanne and I became certified. Certified Competent Sailing Crew that is.

During our time with the sailing trainer, we let it be known that we would like to own our own boat. His comments and stories of people on boats became a really big test to see if my dream would continue. It wasn’t the stories of wrecked boats and lives in danger, those were part of the adventure of it all. It was the realization of the dollars and cents involved that literally knocked the wind out of my sails.

He pointed out things I had never even considered. What about mooring costs, whack. What about boat lifting costs, whack. What about annual antifouling, whack and what about maintenance and repair costs, whack. What about doubling all these costs for a catamaran. Knockout.

All the “experts” that I consoled in, all came up with, apparently, well known theories. “Oh yeah, the definition of boat is Bring Out Another Thousand hahahaha, and oh yeah a boat is a hole in the ocean that you throw money into hahaha”.

My realization was that we had enough from the sale of our business to be able to afford either a basic small catamaran or a bigger but older boat. While purchasing my saved favourites would chew this money up, there would be nothing left for any repair and maintenance, leaving an older boat out of the equation. On our current income we could not afford to moor or improve or perhaps even use a newer boat.

They had me. I very nearly gave up on my dream. It seemed that to own a cruising sailing catamaran and travelling by the wind to the beautiful turquoise waters and deserted island with the pure white beaches, was not for me.

One evening, about six months after our sailing training course I arrived home from my job.  Leanne had seen a new client in her business that day. Leanne told me that her new client owned business, but were trying to sell it. It was a boat and marine sales, repairs and parts business.

A flash bulb went off inside my head. What a perfect business for someone who wanted to own a boat. I plied Leanne for more information. She said she would talk to the lady some more on their next meeting.

CHAPTER 5 Not the Best Time

As with all great holidays and newfound adventures we all like to tell our friends and acquaintances of our exploits. Leanne and I talked about the “best time” we had found on a cruising sailing catamaran in the Whitsundays to anyone who dared to listen.

Of course the stories we told often ended in an invitation to join us on our next adventure.

We had tried to rekindle our cruising sailing dream and booked to go back to the Whitsunday Islands. We were both surprised when Leanne’s friend, also named  Leanne said that she would book a charter with us.

In our excitement at returning to the Whitsundays and having another go on a cruising sailing catamaran, we probably overlooked a reasonably important point. January, being cyclone season, is probably not the best time to go bare boat chartering in the Whitsundays.

The “other” Leanne and her new boyfriend Pete, spent the week before departure at our house where expectations and the excitement of our upcoming adventure were discussed at length, usually over a late night champagne or six.

This time, instead of a bus trip from Proserpine, the “other” Leanne’s brother picked us up from Mackay Airport and drove us up to Airlie beach. On our arrival at Mackay, it started raining very heavily and persisted even after we arrived at Airlie Beach. We heard on the radio an hour or so after we got there, they closed the road due to flooding.

Perhaps it was six hours flying on a cheap economy aeroplane seats, a couple of hours in a small car containing five people plus luggage or the week of late nights with champagne indulgence, that meant no-one was really feeling the excitement or really enjoying the anticipation when we arrived.

My excitement and anticipation was dampened on arrival at the jetty. This time there wasn’t anyone to greet us or escort us to the boat. It was just a note with some keys. Seems it wasn’t the best time for the company to have someone wait for us. They were all busy dealing with the impending flood.

Our boat for this charter was called “Bahama”. While it was a nice looking clean and tidy boat, it wasn’t “Perfection”.

The next day was spent preparing for a week long hire. We had to get to the liquor store, supermarket, the liquor store, the dive shop for stinger suits and then back to the liquor store. All our food was carefully packed into the outside freezer on the Bahama, which we thought was a handy idea. All forms of storage for the gallons of champagne and enough food for gourmet banquets every night were sought out and used, including the bilges under the floor.

No witty sailing instruction this time either. Pete told the guy that he knew how to sail and I told them I had been here before. I think that they were glad that they didn’t have to do much in the way of explanation or demonstration in the rain, so after motoring the boat out of the marina, the guy was very quick to depart.

For the next 2 days as we tried to sail but spent most of the time just bobbing about not making any progress without engines on. The rain persisted and humidity was intense.  Our friends were beginning to be a bit disbelieving about the beautiful turquoise waters, the deserted islands and the pure white beaches. All they could see was grey skys, rain and the inside of the cabin where we all roasted together. Their moods were certainly somber. It probably wasn’t the best time for me to express the feeling of freedom and enjoyment I get from cruising sailing.

The third day began with bacon and eggs for breakfast. The first trip to the outside freezer to replenish the internal fridge was when we found out the hard way that external freezers on catamarans are not actually a great idea. The rain had caused water to run off the roof and dribble into the freezer. It had then filled the freezer and frozen to form into an ice block, which could not be penetrated. Oh and it started raining again just after breakfast was packed way.

Not to be deterred we carried on through the rain to the next destination. As we were trying to put the sails up to catch a bit of wind we found that the rain had made the decks like ice rinks. After some nasty bumps and bruises we had to abandon the idea of getting the sails up for fear of doing a nasty injury.

Fourth day out we all commented on how fortunate it was that it wasn’t raining as much, and headed to shore for an excursion. It was of course the tropics so still very hot. On arrival back on board the boat a horrid smell was noted. A thorough search of the boat in the heat of the day found, the rotting vegetables in the bilges under the floor.

After a day or so of airing out the boat (in between rain showers) someone put something in the toilet that really should not have been put in there. The toilet was blocked solid. After several calls to the hire company who offered to come fix it for an exorbitant fee, Pete made a call to the other Leanne’s brother who brought some tools out in his small boat. Pete, bless his heart, spent the heat of the day wedged face down in the small bathroom, unblocking the toilet, which also was now producing some offensive odours. Not really the idyllic cruise around the turquoise waters he had hoped for.

On the fifth day it was decided that we head for Hamilton Island where we could restock the fridge, as we had still not been able to extract any food from the freezer.

While on Hamilton Island, my Leanne and I went to the shops. When we returned, there was no sign of the other Leanne, and Pete had his bags packed on the jetty. He apologized and said he was flying home. They had some sort of argument and she had gone to the shops on the Island.

My Leanne stayed with him to “talk “. I set off to find the other Leanne, actually hoping not to. I didn’t really get on with this friend of Leanne’s. I could think of nothing worse than having her alone on the boat with us for the rest of the week feeling sorry for herself. I found her in a bar drowning her sorrows. I convinced her, after a few more drinks, to patch things up with Pete. Then I had to half carry her through the rain back to the boat.

The next day, it was decided that we head back to Airlie Beach and get off the boat. But, there was another problem with that. We were told when we radioed our intention to the hire company that Airlie Beach was closed as they had major flooding in the town.

A very long day was spent gritting our teeth and tolerating each other. Finally, we ended our charter several days earlier than planned and paid for. This time there were no regrets leaving the cruising sailing catamaran adventure behind us.

We did not see or speak to our friends for the rest of the holiday. Perhaps we had oversold the dream.

The horrible stink of rotting vegetables, the bruises and scrapes from the slippery deck, the toilet blocked by something unmentionable or, that we had spent 5 days and nights huddling inside the small cabin of a catamaran with people we didn’t really like, pushed our mental endurance to the limit. I couldn’t see how I would get my beloved on to a catamaran ever again.

CHAPTER 6 The Omen

Our dream of owning a cruising sailing catamaran had taken some interesting twists and turns since it’s inception a couple of years earlier.

Our dream had survived the original germination in my mind, the test of telling Leanne, the knocking of the experts and the holiday from hell we had on our most recent trip to the Whitsundays. I was really nicely surprised when on one quiet weekend Leanne asked me to show her the boats we had saved as favourites.

One of the first boats I had dreamt of and saved on my favourites was the Fusion 40 sailing cat called “Easy Tiger”. We were quite surprised to see it was still for sale and even more surprised to see that there was quite a reduction in price now being offered.

We also trawled over a number of boats in charter that I had saved as I thought this would be the way that we could have the boat “finance” itself.

Leanne suggested that we start to talk seriously about the options, which gave me a huge lift. As we talked and worked our way through the options we came to realize that owning a catamaran, that was on the other side of Australia, that was being used by all levels of sailing ability and that had a lot of criteria attached to our use of it, was not what we had dreamt about.

Another alternative was to move over to the Whitsundays and self manage our boat. That would make us more money, however the thought of cleaning the toilets and polishing our boat continually so that other people could enjoy it was not in our picture either.

We then deleted all the boats in charter from our favourites. We were narrowing down the field.

That left another dilemma. We probably had enough money tucked away to afford a middle ranked boat. But, if anything went wrong we would not have enough left over to cover major repairs or the money required to accommodate and maintain it. The rest of the weekend was spent tossing numbers around and coming up with a basic budget. Then we sat staring at the page, disheartened once again.

There was no way that my job at the transport company, even though I had been promoted to “Fleet Controller” was going to give us enough income or the time freedom to sail to our dreams.

Leanne reminded me that she would talk to the lady who had a boat business for sale again. “That’s it” I said. “We have been very successful in business before so if we could find a business that produced enough income and spare time, we could achieve our dream”.

We made appointments with the business broker handling the sale of the boat business. Yes, it made enough money to meet our requirements. Yes, we could fund the purchase if we mortgaged everything we had. NO, we did not want to work every weekend, NO I couldn’t see myself being a used boat salesman and NO I couldn’t see us in this business.

The business broker was told the boat business was not for us. But he cannily left a couple of other options and their details in smartly presented folders on our table. They sat there for a couple of weeks unopened. Then out of the blue I got a phone call while I was at work. “Steve, Steve” a breathless Leanne gasped into the phone, “I have found the perfect business for us. We have a meeting with the broker at 5.00pm, gotta go”.

This was very unusual for us. Normally it is me getting excited about an idea and trying to persuade Leanne, who supplies a dose of reality.

I was a little frustrated at the urgency, as I normally like to be well prepared and informed and would normally go with a list of questions. On this occasion though, I was prepared to go with Leanne’s hunch.

We met with the broker and Derek Spencer, the owner of Spencer signs. He explained that it was a long standing business that designed, made and erected signs. The initial meeting was very positive because many of our boxes were ticked. The business only operated 8 to 5 for 5 days a week. All we needed to do was get the work in the door, which we knew Leanne was very good at and organize the staff , which I could manage.

Another meeting was arranged at the business premises, once all the staff had gone home. Almost the moment I walked in  I saw the omen.

The lady, Wendy, who handled reception and did all the accounts had left her computer on. The screen saver had kicked in. The screen saver was a picture of a cruising sailing catamaran anchored off a small island with white sandy beaches, surrounded by turquoise water.

We signed an offer to purchase the next day. 

CHAPTER 7 Working for a Dream

On the 1^st May 2008 Leanne and I started work as owners of Spencer Signs. We had bought the business, hoping to fund our dream of owning a cruising sailing catamaran. While we didn’t know anything about the sign making industry we both knew that to succeed in business, all you have to do is find enough customers then give them more than what they want, when they want it, at a price they are prepared to pay.

We were quickly hit with the reality that the business we had bought into was a bit of a train wreck.  Leanne had to learn quickly how to quote prices and I had to learn how the signs were made, along with who did what.

The first six months went past in an absolute blur. During the week we were flat out doing the doing, often 14 or 15 hours a day and weekends were spent refurbishing the production area, trialing new systems and managing the accounts, again, usually from dawn to dusk. Glad we bought a 9 to 5 week day only business.

By the first Christmas, we had removed 130 cubic meters of rubbish, Leanne had brought in more work than we could handle, we had new work systems in place and the train was back on the rails and pulling out of the station.

Slotted back into our work, work, work pattern, the dream could easily have slipped away, as it was a rare occasion that we had time to think anything else. We were constantly and continually driven to make our business succeed. Fortunately, I had kept the screen saver (a picture of a catamaran anchored off a beautiful tropical island) from the previous accounts lady.

During the Christmas break, having a rare weekend off, I showed a friend who was visiting, the website with my favourite catamarans for sale.

The first boat that came up on my list was the Fusion 40 catamaran called “Easy Tiger”.  Again I was slightly surprised to see it was still for sale, as it had been in my favourites for nearly 2 years. I also noted it was now offered at a further reduction on price.

Next morning after friends had left, I asked Leanne, if the time might be right to buy a boat. We were working very hard towards our dream, so at least we could enjoy the results of our damn hard work, on our down time.

Any one who knows Leanne, knows she loves bit of negotiating. In fact she has a beaming smile that I know now is her “I got a bargain” smile.  So I suggested that we contact these sellers and tell them how much we are prepared to spend. Even though it’s way below what their asking, we might get a response. We might get a bargain.

That afternoon we drafted and sent off two emails to the sellers’ agents, saying that we had X to spend and if they were interested, please get back to us.

Leanne and I were quite surprised that the next day we received a reply from the selling agent for Easy Tiger.

It read “I have spoken to the owners and they have agreed to conditionally accept your offer to purchase Easy Tiger. This is pending an engineers inspection, a test sail, and payment beforehand of a deposit”.

“Oh, Wow”, I said after I had re-read the email to Leanne. “Looks like we bought a boat”.

CHAPTER 7 Is This Really Happening

I have heard somewhere that if you want something done you give it to a busy person.

For several years Leanne and I harboured a dream of owning a cruising sailing catamaran and experiencing the adventure of sailing to exotic destinations.

To fund such a dream we had re-entered the world of small business and now had the obstacles of finding the time to continue with our dream. During a rare moment of down time, we had sent off a crazy offer to purchase a boat, which to our amazement was accepted. Now we had to find some time away from our business to get over to the Gold Coast (the other side of Australia) to do the appropriate inspections and test sail.

We managed to have the previous owner of the business agree to run things for a week and flew to the gold coast. The trip was a mixture of feelings.

There was a lot of excitement in seeing a long held dream coming real. All the nights spent searching boats and information and comparing values, inventories and design features, had lead to this.

There was a lot of trepidation in knowing that this was not an investment. We could easily have bought an investment property for the same money. But as I said to Leanne, “an investment property wouldn’t float so well or be half as much fun”.

There was a lot of consternation. Would this be the right one? How would we know? How would we know if there was anything wrong with it?

Basically the flight to the gold coast seemed to take about a week, when in fact my watch told me it was about five hours. Then we had to hire a car. Then we had long drive to find the Marina and our hotel. Then get checked in and then a walk to the jetty and wait for the gate to be unlocked. The anticipation was so palpable that everything seemed to be in slow motion.

“You must be Steve and Leanne” said a man who was strolling across the carpark at the end of the jetty. “Kenny’s the name”.  Kenny was about 50+, dressed in old denim work shorts, a tshirt and sandals. He looked anything but a boat salesman.

“Oh yeah, I came down for me mate, who couldn’t make it today” says Kenny. I was horrified. We had come all this way, to look at our dream and the sales man couldn’t make it so he sends his mate. This cannot be good for us. Or could it.

“I’ve only got about an hour so we’ll go and have a look ay?” says Kenny. I looked at Leanne who glared at me. “Umm we were supposed to go for a sail and to have the boat lifted for the engineer. Who is going to do that tomorrow?” I asked. “Keep your shirt on” replied Kenny. “I have to go and take the kids that I teach sailing. Then I will come back tomorrow and do all that.”

With that he unlocked the gate and walked down the jetty. Leanne and I almost pushed him along. Finally in between two houseboats, reversed into the jetty was a pure white, 40 foot Fusion 40 sailing catamaran.

Leanne and I momentarily hesitated on the jetty. “Oh, my, god” said Leanne with her hands up to her face. She just stood there wide-eyed and mouth open for about ten seconds. Then she smiled.

“I stepped on to the deck of Easy Tiger for the first time. The deck is covered in cork leading to walk through transoms that are wide, but I just stood on the back step and stared, trying to take in every single detail.

Took a lot of washing polishing. Should have seen it yesterday. It was covered in dirt” offered Kenny, as he stepped on board and started typing in a code to the door. We found out later that Kenny had spent the day before on the boat washing and polishing it.

“Bloody nice boat” he said from inside the saloon. “What boat did you guys have before?” he asked.

“Ummm, this would be the first boat I’ve ever owned” I said. Kenny stood and stared at me. “Oh” was all he could muster. Then “Oh well, it’s nice for tea and biscuits, but a bit fruity for racing” he came up with. It was then my turn to say “Oh”, not really sure what he meant.

Kenny then said he had to go. That time had gone in a flash and neither me or Leanne were going to be shifted off Easy tiger any time soon. But that didn’t seem to matter to Kenny. He tossed us the keys and asked us to lock up when we were done, then trotted off down the jetty.

Still not really sure what to do first, we slowly started and then became more frenzied at opening all the drawers cupboards, hatches and hutches. They were all full of everything a household would need, including cutlery, linen towels, some scuba diving gear and many boat spares. There really was just too much to take in at once. We stayed exploring Easy Tiger until well after the sun went down and it was too dark to see anything.

That night we even stood out on the balcony of our hotel room balancing on the rail as we strained to see if would could see Easy Tiger in her berth that was frustratingly just around the corner.

We were so close. So close to achieving our dream. “We have to keep calm though Leanne” I said “We still need to find the reasons that shouldn’t buy this boat”. This was said as I was waving the cheque book around.

Next morning we were up early and perched on the bows of Easy Tiger when Kenny arrived. He showed us how to go through the prestart checks and an hour later after putting some fuel in at the marina we were motoring up the river to get the boat lifted for hull inspections.

Kenny told me to take the wheel. I asked him which way to go, he said he was just looking it up as he hadn’t been there before. It felt good. Here I was steering my dream on a perfect day. It didn’t matter that we may be lost.

Eventually we found the Gold Coast Marina. It is a mass of boats and activity. We tied on to the first available space we found on the jetty after Kenny expertly steered around an obstacle course of superyachts, work-boats and fishing trawlers. Some guys came around with a huge boat-lifting crane. They maneuvered the crane over the boat and placed belts underneath. Then with a roar of the engines up came Easy Tiger out of the water. The crane waddled over to a flat bitumen area where they washed and scrubbed the underneath. Easy Tiger looked huge out of the water.

A youngish looking guy in casual attire came over and introduced himself as the marine engineer who was going to do the inspection. I responded by saying that I was the prospective owner. That felt really good.

To say I followed him closely was an understatement. Every time he wrote something in his book, every time he touched or poked at the hull I would ask him what he found, was it bad, could it be fixed.

After a couple of hours on the hard stand the engineer asked for the boat to be put back into the water, and then came with us as we motored back to the marina berth. I was still peppering him, or should that be pestering him with questions. As we arrived at the dock the engineer told me to sit down and he would give us his findings. Oh no, I thought, it must be serious. Our trip and the excitement and the anticipation may have been all been for nothing.

“Basically, I have found” began the engineer quite sternly, “nothing wrong with this boat. There are a few small items which I will list in my report, but all in all nothing alarming or that would stop you being able to use and enjoy this boat”.

Another obstacle cleared. Now for the test sail.

That afternoon after we bought lunch at the marina, we went for our test sail up the Coomera river. I am not sure how to describe the exhilaration of our first time hoisting the sails and letting Easy Tiger loose to glide effortlessly through the turquoise water.

“Bloody good boat, she sails well for a Tea and Biscuits Boat” said Kenny, breathless after winding up the sails.

I looked at Leanne perched on the other bow seat.

“Is this really happening? Are we going to buy this boat?”

Leanne answered me with her “we got a bargain smile”.  

CHAPTER 8 Cruising Sailing; Am I up to it.

Leanne and I had our dream. We had signed up to purchase the cruising sailing catamaran that we had dreamt of for more than two years. We now had a day to organize the logistics of accommodating a 12 metre long, 7.2metre wide 8 tonne boat somewhere on the Gold Coast, the opposite side of Australia from where we lived.

We had spent three days inspecting and testing the boat and now that the deal was done and the check was signed, we felt a small of amount of panic starting to set in. The marina where Easy Tiger had been berthed wanted to charge a lot of money to stay there, plus with a big earthworks project happening just meters away would see that the boat covered in dirt and probably damaged if we left it there.

Kenny, who had shown us over the boat and had helped us take it for testing over the last couple of days, came to our rescue. “I’ll take it up to Brisbane and can put it in the yacht club for a week or so until you sort it out”.

So with our hearts in our mouths, we decided to leave our new “baby” that we had just spent our life savings on, with a knock about guy that we had only met three days earlier. He would take it somewhere where we didn’t know and had never been. What could go wrong?

So we left for home the next day, having paid Kenny a “management fee”, feeling that we had just adopted out our newborn.

As it turned out we needn’t have worried. Kenny took to his new task like the boat was his own. He found a property owner with canal frontage and a private jetty in Brisbane. We would only have to pay $800 to have the boat stored there for three months. That was a fraction of the normal mooring fees.

Back at the office in the sign shop, we had to carry on with the doing in our business, with only a few photo’s to show that we had achieved our cruising sailing catamaran dream.

So the next step was to be able to get to use it. We had weekly or often almost daily updates from Kenny, who really was a godsend. On one of these updates he asked how we were going to get the boat from Queensland to Bunbury Western Australia.

Great question. I had thought of trucking it over, but the sheer size of it made that quite impractical and massively expensive even if it could have been achieved.

Really there was no alternative than to have to sail it around. I sure didn’t have enough experience to even think of doing that myself. We would have to hire a crew to bring it around. God knows how expensive that would be.

Kenny came to the rescue once again and offered to do it for a very fair set fee.

We didn’t know any better so we agreed that Kenny and a couple of his mates would sail our boat from the Gold Coast around the top of Australia to it’s home in Bunbury WA. They would leave a few days after ANZAC day, as they were Vietnam vets and the march was very important to them.

The planning began in earnest from that point on. It was decided that we would have to fly over again in March, to provision and prepare the boat ready for Kenny and Co’s epic adventure.

A quick look at our calendar revealed that we had one week in March that suited the previous owner to baby sit the business. As Why not spend some time over there sailing on our boat then do whatever we need to get it ready for the voyage. As it happened our daughter Bree and her then boyfriend Clinton would also be accompanying us.

Following some rapid organisation, bookings and packing, the four of us set out to go sailing on our own catamaran.

On arrival at the Royal Queensland Yacht Squadron, we were amazed to see that Kenny had our boat, polished to a bright sparkle and tied up front and centre to the club house.

Everything seemed perfect. The boat was as amazing as we when we first saw it. The only difference was that it was now ours. We very proudly showed Clinton and Bree over the boat.

In our excitement though we suffered a few “trials”.  I suggested to Clint that we go for a dinghy around the yacht club and the marina, to see if we can find the way we would sail out in the morning. In my excitement I let the dinghy rope clutch go while I was holding on to the rope. Big mistake. The dinghy fell to the water, resulting in five metres of the lifting rope ripping through my hands at rapid pace. Instant rope burn blisters welled up across both of my palms.

Leanne had planned a celebratory barbecue for our first dinner on our first boat on the first night. I was unable to handle anything, so Leanne took it upon herself to get the small pot like barbecue out and set it up. While she was bending down trying to plug the gas line in to the bayonet, she overbalanced and fell into the water, much to the delight of a full clubhouse.

The next morning, with my hands bandaged and Leanne dried out, we set out on our first sail. We headed out across Moreton Bay towards Stradbroke Island and Tangalooma, where Bree and Clinton were going to go scuba diving.

With me issuing instructions and Clinton doing the manual stuff we managed to get the sails up and had Easy Tiger effortlessly gliding through the water at a lively 9 knots in a steady breeze. After half an hour or so, Leanne had started fishing off the back, Bree was sitting on the deck reading and Clinton was having a nap. I started to investigate my boat. I was experimenting by seeing what would happen if I pulled the sails in a bit more, results noted. Then what happens if I let this rope out a little etc…

It then came time to tack or turn the boat into the breeze, before we hit the island. I can do this I thought. So I turned the wheel and let off the rope clutch.

The boat only lurched a bit and didn’t turn. There was a brief sound of rope running rapidly through the clutch and then the dinghy fell into the water. I had let the wrong clutch off! The dinghy was in the water and had now flipped upside down spewing the items that were conveniently stored in it, into the ocean.

“Oh shit the dinghy’s in the water” I thought I yelled but obviously not loud enough, as everyone just carried on with what they were doing. “Fucking hell, man overboard” this time it came out loud and clear. Leanne rushed over and got both the motors going. She turned the boat into the wind and I dropped the sails, stopping the boat.

Amid much swearing and cursing, and amid a world of pain through my blistered hands I managed get the dinghy hoisted on the ropes the right way up. Once that was done I flopped breathlessly on to the back deck and looked at Clinton who was standing in the doorway shaking his head from side to side.

Clinton and his Dad are heavily involved in sea rescue, scuba diving, crabbing and fishing. In general they are real boaty types with an affinity to the sea. If I wanted to show off my seamanship skills, I probably could have got off to a better start.

We managed to “limp” to Tangalooma and even anchored without incident. Bree and Clinton were keen to go scuba diving. While they got their gear on I got the dinghy motor dried out and started. That was lucky because a few minutes after the divers got into the water, Bree came to the surface calling for help. She was caught in the current and tiring quickly.

Leanne dropped the dinghy in to the water, the right way. I jumped in and got it started almost in one movement and the two of us took off to rescue Bree. Problem. In our haste to get in and get after our daughter, I had got in on the wrong side to drive the dinghy, so was still trying to work out why the throttle seemed the wrong way around, when Bree grabbed the front of the dinghy. By this time we were almost up to the famous sunken shipwrecks that make Tangalooma a great place to snorkel and dive. In my haste to shut the motor off so as not to run over Bree, I did the exact opposite and hit full bore. The Dinghy lerched forward, fortunately, at the same time a small swell came though.

Unfortunately the swell left just as quickly as it came and we crashed down hard on to a piece of partly submerged shipwreck. Leanne was screaming for Bree, who miraculously escaped any injury. Bree was screaming at me for nearly running her over with a dinghy. Just then Clinton surfaced and started yelling at Bree for not letting her dive partner know she was surfacing. I was yelling too, not sure at who or why, but it seemed the thing to do.

While all yelling at each other we retreated back on board Easy Tiger.  Still in a state of shock, I decided to take Leanne over to the beach. A bit of time on dry land to gather our thoughts was needed.

We mounted into the dinghy, the right way around this time and pushed off. I no sooner had the motor started and there was a huge shudder through the floor of the dinghy. “Oh that’s right you’ve wrecked the dinghy on our first day” screamed Leanne.

I couldn’t understand what was going on. The dinghy had worked fine until it slammed on to the wreck. Maybe being flipped upside down and dragged through the water at 9 knots had caused some unseen damage. I didn’t have time to think too hard about it as the motor cut out completely. Fortunately we drifted nicely to the beach. As I lifted the outboard out of the water I saw it. We had actually run over the rope used to attach the dinghy to the main boat.

After twenty minutes I had the rope untangled, and started the dinghy.  It ran fine all the way back to Easy Tiger. Once we tied it on, I went straight to bed.

Cruising Sailing indeed. Was I up to it?

 CHAPTER 9 Champagne Sailing

We took ownership of Easy Tiger in February. In March, we had taken her on our maiden voyage around Moreton bay, then provisioned and set it up for our delivery skipper to bring her home.

Kenny, our delivery skipper and his crew would be leaving Brisbane at the end of April. Leanne and I grew more nervous by the day as we tried to coordinate all manner of logistics from our business in South West WA to Kenny and a number of suppliers in Brisbane.

We certainly started to believe what the nay sayers had told us about boats being a hole in the water that you throw money into. There was getting the boat anti fouled, engines serviced. Then we needed such things as 8 jerry cans for spare fuel, full set of nautical charts etc… etc…etc…

About the same time our business was growing substantially. Also Leanne was booked in to have quite a big surgical operation and would take a few weeks of recovery at least. So, unfortunately going on the journey was out of the question.

I was woken early morning, by a phone call from Kenny. “We are under way”, says Kenny. I had almost forgotten that it was departure day and Kenny had forgotten about the time difference between states. “We are sailing but there’s not much wind”. I woke Leanne with “Easy tiger is under way”. We celebrated with a piece of toast each.

All day it was extremely hard to get into my normal work routine. I kept calling Kenny to check progress with no response, sent a few texts, called Kenny’s wife. No reports. I was the expectant father in the waiting room.  No news had to be good news.

I took Leanne to the local hospital for her operation the next day.  She was out of surgery some hours later and the very next day she was sent home. This all made it easier to stop hounding Kenny. We got one progress report from Kenny, around Gladstone.

Just when I had managed to put the boat trip out of my mind, with running the business and trying to look after Leanne, I got an early morning call. “We have hit a bit of a snag” Kenny started out. “We are in Cairns. But we have lost the starboard propeller, so maneuvering is a bit hard. We had to tie the dinghy on the side to get it into safety”.

Many frantic phone calls to the Brisbane mechanic that serviced the motors were made during the course of that morning. The Mechanic denied any wrong doing, claiming that they must have hit something to knock the propeller off, which didn’t make sense. More calls to Yanmar, revealed that the propeller had most likely come off because the locking bolt was not replaced properly.

I’d like to say that the Brisbane mechanic, when faced with these facts would at least offer to help us out in some way. Unfortunately that was not to be. After many phone calls and beating around the bush he admitted that his apprentice did the work and he hadn’t been near Easy Tiger to check it out. But still no recompense to us at all!

I was then forced to order a new propeller from Yanmar in Melbourne, have it air freighted to Cairns, find a mechanic plus a way it could be fitted without having to lift the boat out of the water. This would be no mean feet, as those familiar with Yorkies Knob Marina near Cairns know it is also the hangout of some very large Salt water Crocodiles.

Kenny and crew would have to sit and weight for a week in Cairns. This didn’t thrill them as they were on a set fee. So they spent a few days going up and down the creeks around them in the inflatable dinghy looking for crocodiles to take photos of. And succeeding!

One of Kenny’s crew opted out of the trip during this time and headed home. This was a major concern to me as it left only 2 crew on the boat.

Inspite of her condition, she suggested that while the boat was in Cairns I should fly over and go with Kenny to the next stop. I just laughed it off as a lovely suggestion and something that I would dearly love to do, but with a wife in recovery (still with tubes hanging out of her stomach) and a business getting busier by the day I thought it would be very irresponsible to go sailing.   

The next day, an infection flared up and Leanne was readmitted for emergency surgery. After a few days of recovery in hospital I went to pick her up and take her home. On the way home Leanne told me that she had made some phone calls and it was all booked. I asked her what was booked, she said my trip to Cairns.

My beloved had organized with Kenny and the travel agent for me to fly to Cairns and sail with Kenny around to Darwin. This would take about 9 or ten days. She had organised Derek, the previous owner of the business to come and run that for a week and had her friends Jenny Keyser and Maria Giacci to keep an eye on her. All organized by Leanne from her hospital bed.

What could I say. I didn’t really want to go. I really wanted to go. If I looked at my responsibilities I would have said no. If I went with my heart, knowing that Leanne would be OK and cared for, I would go. That was really what our dream of owning our boat was all about, not doing what we should, but doing what we dreamt. I flew out the next day.

The day before I arrived, Kenny had received the propeller. They had managed to get Easy Tiger on to a mud bank, then waited for the tide to go out. Then a young mechanic came to fit the propeller, while Kenny and his crew man Macca, kept a watch out for the 4 metre crocodile that called that mud bank home. By the time they finished the job, the tide was rushing back in. As they packed up the tools and got the engine started the young mechanic was waste deep in the croc’s home swimming pool. Money well earned I’d say.

After a drive to Perth, flight to Brisbane, Flight to Cairns, bus to Palm Cove and Taxi to Yorkies Knob Marina, I was ready for a lie down. Kenny, obviously had other ideas. As I approached the jetty he was yelling come on, untie that rope. He had the engines running and was so anxious I had to throw my bag on and jump about 4 feet from the jetty to the rapidly departing boat. Not even a welcome drink. “What do you know about inverters?” was my only greeting.

I stepped into the cabin to be greeted by a Macca. Macca was about 6 feet 4, twenty odd stone, big bushy beard. He looked like he’d be at home in a boxing ring and was seated at the table looking intently at a chart.

“Gidday, I’m Steve” I said. “Yeah figured you might be” was the reply from Macca without looking up. I was wondering whether all owners are greeted like this from crew on their own boat.

By the time I had put my bag into my quarters, had a brief look at the burned out inverter and resurfaced, we were under sail. Kenny had the headsail out only and one motor chipping away at about half revs.

“Just wanted to get out of there” says Kenny. “Going stir crazy in there and it has been hot and humid”.  Now I understood their gruffness. “Be dark soon too, so want to get out of the way of shipping”.

In my excitement to get there and go sailing I hadn’t realised that I hadn’t boarded till 3.00pm. By then, it was nearly 5pm and I am realising that I will spend my first ever night at sea.

As darkness fell on that first night, we had only had the headsail up, but with a steady breeze behind us were making 9 knots, very comfortably.

Kenny was running around the boat, testing this, tweaking that. I was trying to watch and learn how he sailed my boat, as I wanted to contribute and was sure it would soon be my turn on watch. But watching Kenny was like watching the Kelpie sheep dogs round up sheep on the farm where I grew up.

All night he kept it up.  He would let this rope out. Pull that rope in, alter course five degrees this way and five degrees that. Every now and then there would be a gruff voice from the saloon ”should be able to see the light at 11 o’clock”. This was Macca’s role I see now. The Navigator. That’s what I needed to learn this week as well, I thought to myself.

That was the way they were at 2.00am when fatigue set in and I could no longer do anything consciously. That was the way they were at about 7.00am when I came to again.

During the daylight, I was amazed at how serene it was to sail on a cruising sailing catamaran. The only thing that interrupts your senses is the woosh of the water sliding by, or the occasional flutter of the sails as the wind changes slightly.

That afternoon I was given a turn on watch while Kenny finally succumbed to fatigue.  I know why they call it watch. It’s because the auto pilot, the radar, the chart plotter all do the work of actually steering the boat. All the skipper has to do is watch that it is on the desired course and watch out for any obstacles in  the way. Obstacles like other boats and large ships.

While on my first watch, getting quite used to the movement of the boat and the instruments etc, while Kenny and Macca slept, the VHF radio crackled into life.

“Sailing vessel, Sailing vessel off Cooktown” a very authoritive sounding voice said. “y y y yes is that me you are after” I nervously responded. “This is deep draft vessel Veranus. We will be passing on your starboard side. Please hold your course.” I looked behind us. I scanned the full 180 degrees of the horizon behind us and felt quite relieved when I didn’t see anything.

I was ridiculing myself for getting involved in a radio call that was obviously meant for someone else, when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. A massive ship had appeared out of nowhere. It was obviously going at least twice as fast as we were. It overtook us remarkably quickly and no more than about a half a mile away. Doesn’t sound like much, but it was close enough to hear the engines and comfortably read the name and other signage on the side of it. Close enough when you are on a boat weighing about 8 tonnes and being overtaken by a boat that weighs 80,000 tonnes.

After a mere couple of hours of rest and as our second night at sea set in, Kenny was back in his Kelpie like role and Macca was back perched on the end of the table, dividers, rulers and pencils in operation.

That night we were all standing on the rear seat looking out over the cabin roof. While we were looking for a reef marker light, sailing with headsail only, gliding along about 9 knots with a full moon in the sky, the water like glass, Kenny just blurted out “Champagne sailing, boys, champagne sailing”.

Considering, that I was just about to clock up my first dozen days of sailing experience and this being only my second night at sea, I had to agree that I could not have described it better.

CHAPTER 10 Coming Home

Following the champagne sailing experience up the east coast of Queensland we rounded Cape York at 1am. I got up especially to take a picture of the boat right on the top tip of Australia, but being dark there wasn’t much to see. I took a picture of our chart plotter showing the boat right at the top of Cape York.

Then the Champagne sailing quickly became more like flat lemonade. The strong southerly trade winds that had propelled us northwards dropped out almost immediately and on came an engine.

After a day and a half of motoring across the Gulf of Carpentaria, looking for some wind, we got more than we bargained for. 30 knot and stronger gusts were now what we had to contend with. The quick change in the weather startled me. One moment I was almost bored the next, Kenny the kelpi was in overdrive, get the multi purpose sail down and into a locker, then dropping the headsail and tying down every thing else.

For 24 hours we made very little headway as a strong rainstorm swept through on. Our radar screen normally has a few pink freckles that indicate a bit of cloud around. This night the whole screen turned pink.

I took a big stew pot out to fill it with water, and was back with 2 gallons or so within a minute. We were completely blindsided and had no vision around us at all. Fortunately we knew via GPS what our position was. Macca had been impeccable in his marking of the paper charts.

“Be right once we get past Cape Wessels” He kept saying. 24 hours later he was still saying it as we battled to make 3 nautical miles and hour.

On the third day across the Gulf of Capentaria, late in the afternoon the wind left as quickly as it came. It left choppy, mixed up seas that did not seem to know what to do other than to bounce the boat in every which way. My stomach then started to do the same as the ocean and before long I was suffering sea sickness.

I’d like to say that Kenny and Macca were sympathetic, but that would be wrong. They just mumbled something about it all being in the head. I assured them it was all in my stomach and I would soon have proof. 

I don’t think there would be much that is more debilitating than sea sickness. Dream or no dream of mine if I suffered too many more times like I did that day, my sailing career would be very short lived.

We rounded past Melville Island the next evening and were back on the engines as the water was as flat as a carpeted floor. With one engine we plodded on towards Darwin.

The new obstacle then became the strong currents created by the massive tide. Kenny went into overtime in his kelpie like activity and Macca doubled up on how often he would plot our position on the charts. I had taught myself how to use the chart plotter on board and would often call out my estimated position to Macca who would confirm and then mumble something about “bloody gadget”.

That night we were all hands on. We ended up having to steer 45degrees off course to keep the boat going on the track we wanted between islands and reefs and other unseen dangers. Just when we thought we were losing control of direction, the tide went slack and we could steer straight again. It was like we pulled against a giant elastic band and then it just snapped.

Relieved, we then arrived in Darwin, where after refueling Kenny and Macca turned the boat towards Kunnunurra, and, reluctantly I flew home to await the arrival of our dream.

Three or four weeks dragged on. We only heard from Kenny two or three times to let us know where he was. Time really dragged. Leanne and I had slotted back into our normal routine of work and at least on the hour every hour one of us was wondering where our boat was.

On the 12^th June 2009, Our dream was realised. My Phone rang about 5.00am. I got a rush of adrenalin when I saw Kenny’s name on the screen. “Your boats tied up on the fishermen’s jetty” was all I heard him say.

“Wake Up Leanne”, I said. “Easy Tiger is home”.

Several years after starting off as a dream, we now own a 40foot (12 Metre) cruising sailing catamaran named Easy Tiger.