No Return Ticket Leg Two by Captain Skip Rowland

Author:Captain Skip Rowland
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Captain Skip Rowland
Published: 2017-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

Hamilton Island Race Week

The last day’s race took us to Whitehaven beach, famous for brilliant white sand made feather-soft by its high silica content. Soft sand with a good anchor grip is an oxymoron, so we anchored with caution. There was zip wind, so little concern. Lying in the soft silica sand I looked seaward. The sight of Endymion, with maybe another sixty multi colored yachts anchored head to wind, took my breath away. Denise was in the water playing with Brandy. Fetching a stick was their game. The race committee threw a barbie after which Denise, Brandy and I lay again in the feathery sand. Life was grand. I was a contented man.

“Having fun?” I asked Denise.

“You know racing isn’t my favorite, right?” Not waiting for a reply she continued “But this, this is incredible. I’m sooo glad you brought me here, Skippy.”

“Yup. Me too.”

Brandy ‘yipped’ and wagged her tail. Aside from Jock-ass she’s been making the most of life—island hopping, hiking with her parents, chasing crabs on beaches, being the center of attention and standing anchor watch. Young as she was, Brandy learned to stay in the cockpit until she heard the anchor chain going down. She then took to the deck.

Race week ended, but not the magic. We sailed to a small island. Expecting to be alone we found one yacht already at anchor. Music by name was a ragged-looking tired old vessel. Her skipper hailed us by radio:

“Welcome Endymion ... Beach barbie tonight. You blokes are welcome, in fact more than welcome. See ya ashore.”

“I don’t know.” Denise was skeptical. “Remember the druggie boat at Huahine?” ( Leg One, chapter 32)

“Yeah, well Music isn’t a proper yacht, that’s for sure. We’ve seen plenty that don’t look too keen but had great people. Besides, we’ve never said ‘no’ to an Aussie invite so I say— let’er rip—let’s go.”

Denise did her usual, looking radiant. With Brandy poised on the inflatable’s bow we motored ashore to an amazing surprise. The skipper and crew of Music was the bush band “Gunnadoo.” Far into wee hours, in flickering firelight of native wood burning on a distant island shore, we were treated to songs played only for us by some of Australia’s most talented didgeridoo artists. That night, filled with the crew of ragged yacht Music, spoke volumes about not judging a book by its cover.

With late morning sun behind us Denise went to the rigging to guide me slowly through dubious uncharted patches of the barrier reef. We anchored in a tiny circular lagoon about 200 feet in diameter. Twelve feet of crystal-clear blue-green water was below us. Exposed portions of the reef no more than a foot high nearly surrounded us just two boat lengths away. Tight quarters, but weather was calm and tides slight, generally two feet or less. We felt secure in that isolated spot on our planet, yet we were not alone. A goliath grouper fish I guessed to be one hundred pounds swam lazy circles around us for fifteen minutes.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.