Our sail was not ideal. Mostly, I sat out in the rain getting drenched while Maryanne hunkered down in the dry cabin. This was my fault. She offered to take over, but I saw no point in both of us getting soaked, so I stayed at the helm taking the brunt of it.
Another hitchhiker aboard for the passage,
we were anchored well before sunset at Gladstone North
After a whole day of this, we finally pulled into the "North Gladstone" anchorage in the lee of Rat Island. This place may have been more interesting had we gone ashore to the little village, but the weather wasn’t great and we were planning on leaving early in the morning, so we just used it as a brief rest stop.
We had the anchor up the next morning in the darkness before 4am. I was very careful to stay dead center on the range markings as we exited at low tide. Once the depth sounder started reading double-digits, we turned southeast through the Gladstone ship anchorage.
Passing through the 'parked' bigger ships
Due to COVID, the place is busier than usual as ship after ship runs out their quarantine clock before being allowed to unload. Each one made for a nice indicator of our progress as we left them behind – way better than some landmarks on the barely visible shore in the distance.
Once the ships had receded to a few ship bridges poking over the horizon, we arrived at Pancake Creek. This is one of our favorite spots along this coast. Last time we were here, though, the place was sparsely populated. Now, all of the mooring balls were full and most of the remaining anchoring space was taken. We picked our way as far as we dared into the shallow water beyond all of them and found a relatively private spot.
It rained and blew hard for the next two days, which effectively kept us aboard. During the height of one storm, I made a point of going out on deck to enjoy it. The cold rain was a shock initially as I soaped up, but I was soon enjoying the torrent as it rinsed me squeaky clean and then some. All of the salt and dirty footprints were washed from the decks. All of the rigging aloft finally got the good fresh water rinse our rigger told us to do each time we take the boat out. It was marvelous. I re-entered the cabin with pruny skin that squeaked when I rubbed it.
We stayed aboard during some miserable weather
After the weather cleared up a bit, Maryanne and I headed ashore for the hike to the Bustard Head Lighthouse and beyond. Last time we visited (in May of 2020), the place was closed due to COVID, but now, we could finally get the tour.
We arrived early enough that we decided to let the caretakers have some more time, so we continued on to Jenny Lind Creek. We had stopped short of descending all of the way back to sea level last time, but this time, we made the trek. It was beautiful down there, with undulating sand flats and lots of multi-colored rock formations on which to climb.
The walk from Pancake Creek to the beautiful meandering Jenny Lind Creek
When we arrived back at the lighthouse complex, we were given a tour of the old caretaker’s cottage and allowed up to the top of the lighthouse where we enjoyed the views from the railing just below the lens. Then a big tour group arrived on one of the amphibious tourist transports and we took our leave for the walk back to the dinghy.
Finally Inside the lighthouse and museum!
All presented with a great sense of humor (e.g. A bookshelf includes the kama-sutra among serious boating tomes, ladies underwear is ready to be ironed, and little discoveries await throughout)
The amphibious LARC does tours from the nearby town of 1770
We saw them coming and squeezed in our tour just before the group made it to the lighthouse
And back to enjoy Pancake creek at low tide
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