Sep 3

Written by:
9/3/2011 9:02 PM 

Fatigue and wind were to be the words of the day. The SE trades get funneled between Papau New Guinnea to the North and Australia’s Cape York to the South. The Torres Strait is a mess of scattered coral islands, narrow shipping lanes, and heavy cargo traffic. Not a place a solo sailor is going to get a lot of rest.

Luckily, the horror stories of strong currents and crazy traffic were well over exaggerated. Maybe this place seemed terrible to other sailors, but having cut my teeth around the tankers in the Houston Ship Channel and ducking the drilling platforms nothing seems too busy anymore. Real frustration didn’t build until a wind shift forced me out of the main current going against the tidal flow. Losing the sail power I had to kick on rusty and motor into wind and current. Even then progress was cut to about two knots. Pretty miserable.

By that time it was around 3:30 in the morning and I was really tired. Looking at the charts I found a course cutting North of the Great Northeastern Channel that ran behind a few islands. With a good handle on the set and drift of the current I let the autopilot run and dropped down for two consecutive 45 minute naps. It doesn’t sound like much, but even a brief REM sleep can change everything.

Refreshed from the snooze I got serious about getting the sail pulling again. Motoring into the wind I set the sails and sheeted them so that I was about 35 – 40 degrees off the wind. I felt Jargo accelerate from two knots up to five. Curious to see if I could hold the course I cut the engine and carried on under sail alone, close hauled, at 4 knots. It is amazing how much I still learn about the abilities of this old boat. Sometimes she reminds me that her only limitation is my ability to command her.

Conditions stayed boisterous for the 36 hour passage of the strait. When I finally crossed the last buoy into the Arafura sea everything just went quit. It was a strange sensation to suddenly feel wind and wave die as though someone had turned a switch. Motoring in the calm I went forward and was treated to one of the greatest sunsets I’ve ever seen in my life. It felt as though I’d just been welcomed with open arms into the Indian Ocean portion of this voyage. One chapter closed and another has opened.

I used to get anxious to make landfall and hated to see Jargo drop below 5 knots average speed. Something in me has changed and ghosting along comfortably at two to three knots I was at peace. After a pretty good slog to the Torres the calms of the Arafura Sea were a welcome respite. Eight days blended into one dreamlike trance. Maybe it was the smoke from the aboriginal fires or heat of the sun blasting down, but nothing could shake the tranquility I found in those waters.

The good ship Arctic was still within HF radio distance and the cigy net continued each night. Once a day an Australian Coast Watch airplane would buzz my masts and confirm my vessel details. The pilots were friendly as could be and in time we began to know the personalities of the three pilots. Each sunset was an epic event and I was treated to the brightest, most mind boggling green flash I’ve ever witnessed. It was truly like a laser beam shooting into the sky. I’d heard of the phenomenon, but never dreamed it could be so striking.

Now many weeks out of New Caledonia the fresh provisions were pretty much gone. Two fish graced my line. Once made it into the frying pan, the other I didn’t have the heart to dispatch. Hearing the fishing alarm snap violently I knew something big was on the line. As usual I was hoping for my favorite, a yellow fin tuna or similar. Pulling in the line I got the fish one quarter of the way towards the boat when he did a runner and ripped the line from my gloved hands. This was a first. Never before had I hooked something that I couldn’t bring in by sheer force hand over hand.

Instead of trying again I let the shock cord fight the fish for another minute. To my complete astonishment the creature swam to the surface, broke into the sky, and flashed all of his brilliant marlin colors and bill to me. It has long been a dream of mine to catch a marlin and now I had one on the hook.

He was a powerful beast, but eventually I got him alongside Jargo. He was too large to easily hoist aboard and I didn’t want to gaff him doing any damage. Slowly I worked a loop of line around his bill and pulled him just enough that I could get the hook from him. Free again, he slowly recovered himself and dove back into the shallow depths. Watching him go I wished him many years of growth, health, and reproduction. What an amazing fish.

The next day the rubber band fish alarm sounded again. This time I got my wish. A perfect little six pound tuna was on the hook. The water was so calm I cleaned him up on the swim platform off the back of the boat. That sushi dinner with wasabi soy was one of the best meals of my life.

Sixteen days out of Chesterfield Reef I made port in Darwin, Australia. The people are friendly and warm like the weather. Many repairs have already been made on Jargo and I am now waiting on my cruising permit for Indonesia. Southeast Asia awaits.