Second Sailing Sojourn

With Australia moving towards a full-time return to school, Mountain Dad and I sensed our window of flexibility was rapidly closing. Coupled with our slide into the damp and chilly Australian winter, we were eager to get out for another adventure on Feisty. And that is why, two weeks ago, we found ourselves rising with the sun, on a still and cool morning, and beginning the long but peaceful motoring trip up the Myall River. The river drains the Myall Lakes into Port Stephens, it's mouth situated at the hamlet of Tea Gardens. Though the river flows out to the port and then on out to sea, its 100km length is still affected by the tide. We had instructions from our sailing expert, Captain Papa, to begin the journey up the Myall River at high tide. As we struggled to understand the physics of this advice, he gruffly told us,
"It doesn't make sense. Don't try to understand it. Just do it."

You'll be unsurprised to learn that your beloved Mountain Family, on our day of departure for this latest Feisty trip, were unprepared and arrived at Tea Gardens at the very dead of low tide. We decided to spend the night at Tea Gardens, picking up a public mooring and enjoying dinner to the accompaniment of a vivid sunset. We brushed our teeth on deck in the darkness, listening to the puff's of breath of dolphins as they played around our boat, Mountain Dad and I only mildly distracted by our tidal calculations. It appeared, we mused,

Thus, we decided to begin at first light. Getting ourselves going as soon as we felt it safe to begin the journey, and as close to the falling high tide as possible. Thus, I heard Mountain Dad stumble on deck in the pitch black morning, start the motor and drop the mooring. The sky was just lightening as I made it up and, after a quick stop at a wharf to run to a bakery across the road for a fresh coffee and pastry, we were on our way. It was still and quiet and cool. The kids joined us on deck and we held them, wrapped in their sleeping bags, as we chugged our way upstream.

For the next four days we poked around the Lakes again. Dodging some weather and working hard to figure out how to sail. Mountain Dad's impulse is to add more sail, while mine is to drop them. Somewhere, we find a balance. The kids spend a lot of time below deck, colouring or playing lego or creating imaginary games that I can't figure out.

Again, it was a relaxing idyll, that none of us wanted to end.

Captain Papa met us at the top of the lakes with a truck and trailer, so we could drive the boat home. It meant a long journey for him, but an avoidance of doing the river again, for us. A choice that maximised our time on the lakes.

Feisty now sits in my parents yard so we can do a spot of work on her. We're just gaining an appreciation of the financial black-hole that boats can be. However, because we love the freedom she gives us, we tend to her with care.
It'll make sense to you when you come for a visit and we take you for a sail.

Motoring the Myall River.

Making her own waves.

Watching the eels play under the boat.

Yacaaba headland of Port Stephens in the background. 

Pulling up the centreboard and pulling the boat right up to the shore, is one of the gifts of Feisty. 

Home school, Feisty-style. 

Our favourite Feisty game. 

Washing the dishes, Feisty-style.

Lox and I sleep on the dining table that converts to bed. 

Shea and Adelaide sleep in the v-berth at the bow. Each day we pack up our beds and shove them in the bow space to give us a tad more space. 

Steering, trimming the sails and cuddling; what is there that Mountain Dad CAN'T do?

Relaxing is often a challenge for him, but with Feisty he can achieve it. 

Home schooling around Dad while he does an online course. In the middle of a lake. Technology is awesome.