Brisbane

[Kyle]The best time to make the outbound transit of Wide Bay Bar at the southern end of Fraser Island was on the morning flood. That way, there was no dramatic clash between the outgoing ebb and the incoming ocean waves. That made our transit a smooth but slow one as the current was killing a third of our speed. Once we were free of the bar, our remaining distance to Brisbane was such that we could have a slow overnight sail and arrive in the morning.

We arrived at the mouth of the Brisbane River right at the end of flood with a plan to anchor just inside to wait for the next one.

The wind was from just the perfect direction though, so we decided to keep sailing against the ebb until we could no longer make any headway against it. We ended up with just enough speed to stay at the slack water point as it advanced up the river. Two of our cruising resources said that it was impossible to sail very far up the river because of its many turns and windbreaks, but we were able to sail all of the way into the center of the city with a just gybe of the jib at each bend. We only had to start the motors to maneuver to our actual anchoring spot.

First sights of brisbane - up and down the river!

That’s where the fun began. The Brisbane River is generally pretty deep. To have enough room to swing from the chain that’s needed at that depth, it is necessary to anchor way out in the middle of the river. That’s no good because of the constant traffic of tour boats and high-speed ferries. Anchoring closer to shore almost certainly puts the bank inside of the swinging circle. There are a handful of spots where there is enough room to stay out of the channel without risking hitting the bottom but, of course, they are already full of private mooring balls, with a band of anchored boats on the outside edges.

We tried a few different places and always found ourselves too close to our neighbor for comfort. We would try to pull up the anchor and move it a few meters this way or that, only to decide that we are still too close and we needed to leave. On our fourth choice of anchorage, we finally found a big, open space that looked like it must have been recently vacated. It also had the bonus of being practically in the shadow of the Story Bridge, giving us a great view. We set the anchor again and again until we felt we had the spacing just right with all of the adjacent boats. By then, the flood was roaring through, to which was added gusty winds. We were pulling hard on our ground tackle. We decided to stay aboard and keep an eye on it for a while.

I had skipped my morning off watch in anticipation of a late morning arrival and by now was getting quite tired, but I decided to push through our usual 'Done Sailing' checklist and try to make it to a normal bedtime.

We were just about to sit down to dinner when the flood ended and the ebb started. Then everything went crazy. We were in a state known as being tide-bound. The current pushed on our keels and rudders to swing us stern to the wind. The wind then pushed us forward until we were jerked to a stop by our anchor, which was now behind us. Then there would be a lull and we would drift downstream until being stopped short on the other side. Sometimes, the wind and current would oppose each other more or less evenly and we would just park directly over our anchor without pulling on anything.

The current strengthened until our speed transducer was registering almost three knots. At that speed, it tends to read a little lower than actual. That was apparent by the wake that we and every other fixed object in the river were trailing. The wind accelerated through the gap by the Story Bridge and hit us just to one side of dead astern. That was a problem because it would swing us sideways just enough for the current to grab our keels. Then we would pull away from our anchor like a kite on a string. Irritatingly, we finally ended up in a more-or-less stable position on the upwind side of our anchor with the rode taught straight out to the side.

Since boats all behave in different ways to being tide-bound, the anchorage looked like a bumper car ring. The boat nearest to us also ended up with its anchor straight out to the side, only theirs was in the opposite direction to ours. When the current was going the other way, we were separated by what looked like plenty of room for another boat. Now, with a medium-stupid leap, I could probably jump from our deck onto theirs. There were a few occasions where Maryanne and I both rushed out on deck to fend off the approaching unattended boat, only to find us lurching to a stop with a couple of meters to spare.

Damn! There was no way we would feel comfortable leaving Begonia unattended to go to shore. We knew we wouldn’t even get a decent night of sleep while we were aboard. Plus, when the occupants of the other boat returned, their unflattering thoughts about the new catamaran that anchored too damn close to them would be somewhat justified. Ooh, I was starting to get really sick of the Brisbane River!

Once again, we pulled up anchor and headed down the river to look for a spot where we could spend the night. We very carefully tried one spot after the other only to find ourselves being edged way too close to our nearest neighbor by the opposing forces of wind and current. We would then up anchor, move five meters further away and find we were now too close to a different boat. Eventually, would finally have to admit to ourselves that we were just trying to squeeze into a space that was too small for us and we needed to move on. We did this three or four times in three or four different places with no success. Eventually, in the fading light of dusk, we had no choice but to leave the city center entirely and head out of town.

A couple of miles later and in full darkness, we finally found a sufficiently wide, sufficiently shallow spot to put our anchor.

We were both completely exhausted. What had started as the hope of a straightforward day with a visit ashore, ended up with us anchoring for the twenty-fifth time after all of the light had gone from the day. Also, my warm feeling from sticking it out and sailing all of the way downtown was completely erased by having to motor against the current for a total of four and a half hours per engine just to find a place to spend the night.

Maryanne was so fed up that she suggested we give up on Brisbane and just keep going. I was right there with her. I was so done with $%#@ Brisbane, but the incoming current was killing us, so we agreed to anchor at least until it turned. In reality, we knew we would probably wait for it to make its second outbound turn before we left. We needed some sleep.

Our suspiciously wide spot ended up having the flaw of having no shore access for a long distance in either direction. There was a big motorway on one side of the river and a long string of private homes on the other. If we couldn’t time our shore excursions properly, I was worried our dinghy would barely be fast enough to overcome the current without completely flattening the battery on the motor.

In the morning, we received a message from a family. Matt, Crystal and their two kids, were the owners of another Athena. They were anchored even further down the river. They said their anchorage looked okay and was near a bus line to town. We hoisted our anchor yet again and headed over to them.

After three tries near them and four on the opposite side of the river, we finally found somewhere to stay. The family came over to see our boat and then took us over to theirs. It’s interesting to see what other people with the same boat type do to make their boat comfortable. Theirs, named Lola, Had a giant bank of four lithium ion batteries which gave them effectively four times our capacity. I was very envious of that. They also had twice as much solar. This allowed them to have lots of electrical appliances including a washing machine and an electric cooker. They say they never have to worry about power, although Matt admitted that they can’t run everything at once.

They have done lots of interesting modifications during the two years since they bought their boat, but overall it left me pleased with what we and the previous owners have done with Begonia. As we were leaving, I asked Matt if he knew which number his Athena was off of the production line.

”Yeah, 137.”

No kidding. Begonia is number 136. Our two boats sat right next to each other all of the way through the factory. Now they were both here on the other side of the world.

Begonia meets Lola - miles away from their place of manufacture
Photo by Matt

Matt and Crystal got us back to Begonia just in time for us to rush forward to fend off an anchored monohull that she really must have wanted to meet. Aw, c’mon! Now we have to move again. We were only there for three hours! We decided to give our previous spot up the river another try. We had now spent two days anchoring and re-anchoring in the bloody Brisbane River and had yet to feel comfortable going ashore. We were both completely sick of this place but were determined to give it a chance if we could make it work.

We were up early on our third day on the river so that we could make the long trip to the nearest ferry terminal without having to buck the current. There, we boarded one of the CityCats into the town center.

To paraphrase Harry Dunn (from the Dumber and Dumber movie): Just when I thought Brisbane couldn’t get any worse... it TOTALLY redeemed itself!

With the notable exception of its stupid river, which admittedly is very pretty as it winds its way through the central business district, Brisbane is a shining example of what a city should be. I am convinced that every city planner in the world secretly holds a simulacrum of Brisbane in their minds as their vision of the ideal city. It’s bustling, yet walkable, and filled with lots and lots of wonderful public spaces. There are botanic gardens and rainforest walks, exercise equipment and a big, fancy pool complete with its own beach. There are art museums and sculpture gardens and NICE places to have a picnic that come complete with a gas grills. There is even a spot along the cliffs where technical climbers are invited to practice. All of this is completely free to anyone who wanders through. This, and the city has a whole network of walking and bicycle trails that are safely separated from car traffic, usually through quiet green spaces. It is an absolutely marvelous place to take a stroll.

The ferry into town for a quick cream tea before a tour of the city hall clock tower

From the clock tower we take a trip across the river, are charmed by the local school uniforms, and take a ride on the Brisbane Wheel

We couldn’t get enough of it. We started at one end and walked and walked until hunger and achy legs drove us to the comfort of a local brew pub underneath the Story Bridge. Then we limped along the shore some more until we just couldn’t limp any more, all of the while marveling at the good fortune of the occupants of every bungalow and mansion along the way. Then we boarded another CityCat, which quietly whooshed us back to where we had started.

We walked miles of waterfront and were thrilled with every new sight!

We hadn’t actually managed to do everything we wanted that day. There was no way to see the stuff on both sides of the river without a lot of doubling back, so we decided to extend our stay to take in what we had missed.

Day two we focused on museums, botanical gardens and parks, and were back to the boat for sunset

we saw more beautiful parks and perfect outdoor cafes and we even got to see Ella’s Pink Lady, the boat that Jessica Watson sailed solo around the world on a trip she completed when she was sixteen (winning the title of the youngest person to sail solo and unassisted around the world).

We were pretty wiped out when we finally made it home again, looking forward to a couple of underway days with little hiking. When we got there, we saw that Nic and Caitlin had anchored Mahana next to us. Well, I suppose we could squeeze in some time for sundowners...