Thus it was for us. We patiently waited for an hour or so while the spinnaker draped uselessly on the deck like a just-lowered stage curtain. Then the ebbing current started setting us backwards and toward the shallows northeast of the point. Time to start an engine.
We see other traffic more regularly now
Since it has been soooo hot, I elected to start the starboard engine. Our bunk sits on top of the port engine. Warming it up would make sleeping difficult for several hours afterwards. Within a few minutes, we were creating our own four-and-a-half knot breeze across the deck, which greatly improved our comfort level.
An hour or so later, the wind died again. This was good news because it meant that it was coming from behind us as fast as we were going. We put the spinnaker back up, wound the engine down and were soon going almost as fast as we had been motoring. Then the afternoon wind started to fill in in earnest and we were back on our way.
As we approached Coral Bay, we could see a mega-yacht there. It's tender was zipping about and there was even a helicopter showing off with wingovers between the yacht and the resort there. The bay was too tight to try to sail in, especially under spinnaker, and even more especially with the mega-yacht right in the middle of it. We brought the sail down and started the engine again.
We were going about two and a half knots under bare poles. As I slowly increased the engine rpm through where the spinning prop should have transitioned from creating drag to generating thrust, we didn't seem to speed up. At the next rpm increase, we still did not speed up. At our current power setting, we should have been able to make just over a knot into the wind. I decided to turn around and see what happened. By the time we were sideways to the wind, we had completely stopped. Uh, oh.
The water was a bit choppy, so I couldn't be 100% sure when looking over the side, but our drive did not look right. It seems we have lost the prop.
The wind was still blowing us pretty smartly toward Coral Bay, with all of its fringing reefs. Time was running out. We needed to start the port engine after all.
That engine was fine. We were able to maneuver our way in and get the anchor down in the space remaining without too much difficulty. When we backed down on the anchor, we did it in a big semi-circle until the rode pulled us straight. Our track looked like a backwards question mark.
A Dolphin visit helped (slightly) to make up for the loss of a propeller
After we finished the rest of our arrival checks, we had a look for the prop. In normal situations, I would have just grabbed a mask and fins and gone in to take a look, but not in croc country. Instead we dug out the waterproof endoscope and sent it down in my place. Yep, we hadn't just lost the blades, the entire folding prop assembly was gone, leaving only the naked shaft. That is not supposed to be able to happen. All of the parts on the prop assembly are fitted together on such a manner that they effectively interlock. Any loose part will jam into the adjacent part, which is installed from a different direction. The whole thing is intended to tighten up with use. Yet from the scope photos, it seems that that did not happen. The shaft isn't broken. The splines are intact, the threads for the main nut are intact, as are the left-handed threads for the backup nut. Neither of these nuts are even supposed to have room to back out because the blade unit is in the way. It is bolted onto the hub using six radial bolts. The first step in removing the prop is to remove these six bolts.
The only scenario that I can possibly think of is that if the backup nut sheared, the main nut could slowly work loose while the hub slowly backed down the splined shaft to make more room for the nut to work a little further. After a gazillion cycles, it might let the whole thing come off in one piece.
The thing is, just when it was really loose as it was about to go, the whole arrangement should have been so wobbly that putting the engine into gear would have caused a catastrophic imbalance that would have felt and sounded at least like losing a blade, probably more like bending a piston rod. When we had careened just eleven days earlier, I gave the whole assembly a good tug and it was all really tight as usual. The six radial bolts were in place with their heads flush with the hub and the cone zinc, which is held on with the aforementioned backup bolt, was not missing. It's been a while, but we have occasionally lost these zincs and have been able to operate the prop normally for months until replacing the zinc on our next haulout.
Those props are expensive and replacing it is going to hurt. Luckily, we have three spare fixed-pitch props as backups. All we need to install one is either another haulout or preferably a better careening spot on harder sand than the last one. Then we can see how long and even if we can get a new feathering prop out here.
Anyway, we were in Coral Bay, which is our first real brush with civilization in quite a while. It is home to Seven Spirit Lodge ("where luxury meets adventure"), a place where the private bungalows start at $2,325/night, plus you have to charter a plane to take you to their private airstrip. If you don't want to fly, there's always the mega-yacht option for transport. The mega-yacht in attendance was clearly making the most of the facilities and was as such filling the bay disproportionate to their size. In all of their various zippings by, they never diverted to say hi or even wave. We felt very much in the way. Once they had made their last run to the boat from the resort (passing by us), they pulled up anchor and seemed to be leaving, but then they put it down again further on. My most charitable assumption is that they were worried their partying would disturb our peace and quiet. That could have been fixed by asking us to join them. We'll drink champagne if we have to. It also seems possible that they were hyper-concerned about the privacy of whoever they had on board. That hypothesis was reinforced by the fact that we never saw an AIS transmission from them. There's no way a boat that expensive doesn't have AIS. Like the fishermen around here, they seemed to have it off so no one could find them. At 2am, I popped my head outside and could hear music making it's way across the bay. It wasn't loud, but may well have been if they were closer, so I guess it all worked out anyway.
Dolphins frolic in the bay at sunrise - wow that was a nice treat while we were anchored off the lodge
In the morning, they headed out for real, leaving us back in our usual role as the only boat in the village. Just one of our guides had mentioned a walk to a nearby viewpoint one bay over. A look at a satellite photo of the area revealed it to likely be along the dirt road passing behind the resort. We decided that would be our day, perhaps even followed up with $40 sparkling waters afterwards on the resort's patio. The wind was gone completely. We rowed to the their dock, leaving a wake and little oar-induced whirlpools behind us.
Maryanne went ahead and found no one. By the time I had the dinghy tied up and had joined her, a resort truck approached. A man got out and in the very polite way of a man who is used to hosting guests who are always right, he informed us that we could not come ashore because the resort is currently closed due to Covid-19. I started to ask him what the deal had been with the group yesterday, but, anticipating this, he cut me off by explaining that they were personal friends of the owners, they were already quarantined and – he seemed a little embarrassed by this – he thought a little money may have changed hands. Ah, there it is.
”Hey, I've got a shiny new fiver for you if you let us cut through to the road.” I'm sure our respective lingoes each omitted different decimal points for brevity. We would worry about that later.
He explained that the resort's roads were private and that he was terribly sorry, but we could not use them to get to the main road. The area around the resort is Aboriginal land with tighter Covid rules and if a ranger were to find out we had cut through a closed resort, it would be their heads that rolled. He was really very truly terribly sorry. We were foiled, but we left feeling like we just didn't want to get the poor guy in trouble. After all, he is just the messenger. Oh, he is gooood!
He offered up the nearby beach as an alternative diversion. It was lovely and it was public land. Maryanne asked if we could get to the road from there. He said it was possible, if not a bit marshy. Also, keep an eye out for crocs in there.
Okay, then. Plan B. We rowed across the bay to the far side, where a little islet looked like it would provide some entertainment. Indeed it did! Before we even got there, Maryanne spotted a log in the flat water. It seemed to be trailing a wake, but the tide was supposed to be going the other way. I turned the dinghy ninety degrees and the wake turned towards us. That's no log!
She got out the camera with the good zoom and confirmed that it was the snout and eyeballs of a big crocodile. So much for going to the island. We stopped for a bit and it did it's best to pretend it wasn't stalking us. We were too far away for it to waste energy chasing after us, so it eventually gave up and resumed its patrol of the shore. We retreated to the beach adjacent to the resort, where we landed and then killed time double-inspecting every inch. Apart from views of Begonia and the resort, we didn't see too much of note.
Watch out for that Croc!
A walk along the fore-shore (and inspecting the rocks)
We had no wind for the next couple of days. Having seen all we could in the area, we mostly stayed aboard trying to stay out of the baking sun. Without a cooling breeze it was still too hot most of the time. The lack of breeze also meant it was easy for any bugs to reach us from shore. As soon as the sun went down and there was no danger of getting cooked in direct sunlight, they arrived. We could keep the mosquitoes and flies out, but the no-see-ums went right through our screens. We had no choice but to seal the boat to the outside, which made for some muggy nights inside.
{Maryanne: From the boat we could see the occasional Kangaroo grazing on the lawn of the lodge, plenty of birds, and that wonderful sunrise visit from the dolphins. We'll have to save the fine dining for next time we visit.}
At the first hint of a break in the calm, we set off. I particularly felt uncomfortably conspicuous anchored in sight of the resort's skeleton staff all of the time. That and the super-bright lights at their dock made me feel like we were anchored on the field of a big stadium. I wanted to get our privacy back and to see the stars again.
1 comment:
How large do you think that croc was? Would you two be both main course and dessert, or just a snack?
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