Passage to Cocos (Keeling) Islands

[Kyle]The weather was not ideal for our departure from Broome to Cocos (Keeling) Islands. That said, it wasn’t particularly terrible either. The forecast called for very light headwinds for the first two days, then the winds would slowly back counter-clockwise and increase until we had typical trade winds by day three or four.

We left our mooring at first light in a brief period of locally offshore winds. Since we didn’t have to weigh anchor, and thus start an engine, we raised full sail and then released the mooring pennant. At that time the wind was only just over one knot, so we sat there for a few minutes bobbing next to the mooring. If we had changed our minds about going, it would have been no problem to get out a boathook, fish the pendant back out and drop it over a cleat again.

An early start (First light) and soon we were sharing the water with whales again

Instead, Begonia coasted to a stop in what had been a slight current and started flowing along the coast with all of the other debris floated off of the beach by the tide. The extra speed of the current created just enough extra wind for the sails to bite and start pulling. We picked up enough speed to make the rudders take effect and then wove our way silently out of the anchorage and out to sea.

Usually, on my first day off-watch of a passage, I have trouble sleeping during the time of morning that I am normally having coffee and looking forward to my day. This time, I surprised myself by sleeping for a solid two hours before switching to two hours of on and off tossing and turning. Before we left Broome, I had intended to wake up at three o’clock in the morning to get us underway, but hadn’t been able to sleep since midnight. Maybe that had something to do with it.

When Maryanne switched with me at noon, I emerged and was surprised to still be looking at the anchorage. By that I mean not only could I still see Gantheaume Bay, I could still pick out each moored boat within.

Our forecast had called for light winds out of the southwest, which should have allowed us to ghost northwards up the coast towards the favorable equatorial current a day or so beyond. The wind was instead irritatingly from the northwest, which meant Maryanne’s only option was to sail west on a starboard tack into the current that was running up the coast. In her entire watch, she made it just under a mile through the water. The current pretty much cancelled out her speed, so that she spent most of her time sailing west-southwest through the water while going either backwards or sideways across the bottom.

In the afternoon, the wind slowly picked up just enough for us to start moving in the direction to which we were pointed. At three o’clock, I climbed onto the cabin top and watched the horizon until the last mirage of the Australian continent vanished into the sea. We had spent so much time seeing so much of it and as I watched it go, I was well aware that I didn’t know when or even if we would ever see it again. Now it was going to be just us and the sea for a while.

It wasn’t until 3am on my next watch that the wind finally backed enough for us to tack and head north with the current. We sailed close-hauled all day in light winds and flat seas until just after dinner. then the wind finally had finally backed far enough for us to aim directly at our intercept waypoint with the westbound equatorial current.

The wind picked up on Day Three until we were easily romping along with over-reefed main and jib. This would end up being our fastest day of the passage. The southeast trades were still annoyingly mostly out of the south. A big storm, also in that direction, was sending up a swell that was being added to the building waves, giving us uncomfortable beam seas.

The next day, the wind had finally backed far enough for us to dispense with our working sails and deploy the spinnaker. We were we now faster and the shadow the mainsail had been casting on our solar panels was now gone. That made it much less of a struggle to recharge the batteries during the day after running the boat all night.

The next three days were the best part of the whole passage. The spinnaker stayed up day and night, with the only attention it needed being to move the sheet in or out just so slightly every watch or two. The seas calmed and started coming more from astern, which made our motion smooth and gentle again. We also had bright days and clear, starry nights where the air ranged from almost too cold to be the perfect t-shirt temperature to almost too hot to be the perfect t-shirt temperature.

We pass strange objects, dolphins visit, and a lage group of squid land and expire on our deck

At the end of Day Seven, the wind started building until the spinnaker was too much for it. We brought it down and replaced it with the jib, which soon needed reducing to keep things under control. The waves began building again and we had two days of cloudy, drizzly conditions sailing over a gray sea.

On Day Ten, the skies finally cleared again. Half a day later, the wind started to abate. It was also forecast to swing behind us to the other side, so I wasted no time in switching back to spinnaker. After downloading the latest forecast, it appeared the dip in wind strength was going to be deep enough to cost us an extra day at sea. It wasn’t here just yet, so we were hoping the spinnaker could keep our speed up high enough to beat the prediction.

It turned out to be a pretty stressful day and a half. Both the lull in the wind speed and the shift farther behind us never materialized. We spent the entire time hovering at either the maximum wind speed limit for the sail or at the most forward angle that would keep it set, usually both. Every now and then a five-degree wind shift would collapse the sail. It would flap like crazy, making a huge racket, then ever so slowly refill into its normal balloon shape.

On Maryanne’s night watch, the wind came forward even more. She didn’t want to wake me by making all of the noise of pulling down the spinnaker and then hoisting the other two sails, so she bore off slightly to the north of our course to keep it filled. The good news was that we had managed to keep our speed high enough to where we were definitely going to arrive just after the next sunrise, making the extra day at sea unnecessary after all.

When she woke me for my watch at midnight, it was obvious that Cocos (Keeling) was too far upwind to be able to continue with the spinnaker. It was a relief by then to pack it up and switch back to our normal working sails. I put an unnecessary reef in the main just for good measure and then pointed Begonia across the wind towards the entrance to the pass.

We arrived right at first light without having to do the usual sail reductions to slow way down. Just as we got there, yesterday’s predicted wind lull finally arrived, giving us flat seas as we motored the last couple of miles to the quarantine mooring. As it was Sunday, the police told us to sit tight, they’ll come out to clear us in tomorrow.

This was fine with us, as it takes us a day to reacclimate to not staying awake half of the night, but also not fine because we were technically not supposed to leave the boat until we were cleared in. The turquoise water of the lagoon was sooo beautiful and today was the only calm spot in the forecast for the next sixteen days, at least. We wanted to go snorkeling; not just teasing little laps around Begonia, but all over the whole bay. This is the first time in months that we have been in lovely warm water and not had to worry about our first plunge sounding like a dinner bell for the nearest crocodile.

Cocos (Keeling) is a large, shallow atoll with an openings on the north and west sides. Most of the islands around the edge are uninhabited, except for West Island, the Aussie ex-pat administrative center (Population: 100, it has the airport) and Home Island (Population: 500), where most of the Malay Muslim population lives. The only anchorage allowed for visiting yachts is at uninhabited Direction Island, on the far northeastern tip of the atoll. This is mainly because it is the only anchorage deep enough for anything except the super-shallow draught local vessels.

Eventually we have Cocos Keeling Islands in sight, and once safely at the quarantine mooring we had the resident sharks come to welcome us!

With us at the Direction Island anchorage were two monohulls, each sailed by a couple. As soon as each awoke and saw Begonia bobbing at the quarantine mooring, they called us up on the radio to welcome us and give us the rundown.

The first was Jeremy and Kathy from Sal Darago. They had arrived a week or so earlier from Carnarvon, at the northern end of Shark Bay, Western Australia, and were planning on leaving tomorrow for Roddy, as they called Rodrigues Island, east of Madagascar. They are Brits who's boat got “stuck” in Australia (in their case in Perth) for Covid and are finally reunited with their boat and homeward bound.

Next up was Ted and Mia on Serengeti. We last saw the previous American owners on the boat in Whangarei, New Zealand in 2018 and we have roughly followed each other’s route to Australia, keeping in touch online. Ted bought the boat in Cairns from them last year, setting off last from Darwin. He is originally from Sweden and migrated to Australia many years ago, where he eventually met Mia. His plan is to take both her and Serengeti on his second circumnavigation. He told us that our group’s three boats are the first three to have cleared into Cocos (Keeling) since 2020. Well, it sure is good to be here.

Sal Darago and Serengeti were the first cruising boats this year at Cocos (Keeling) Islands

Broome

[Kyle]Well, we finally made it to Broome, which is to be our last stop on the Australian continent. It is here that we need to check out with Customs (but not Immigration) before sailing to the Cocos Islands. The sail was pretty uneventful, apart from having to crab up to forty degrees either way to counteract the currents in King Sound. We spent half of the time close hauled and going slightly backwards and the other half with strong tailwinds and going sideways on what would have been a lovely beam reach the whole time in other parts of the world.

On the overnight sail to Broome we spotted plenty of whales - mostly too far away, but sometimes way too close. We did our best to alter course whenever we spotted them, but some of them didn't understand the rules and just wanted to pop over and say hi! And they can certaily swim way faster than we can sail or motor. One friendly giant circled and swam under the boat for our entertainment

We arrived at the outskirts of Broome in a dying wind after an unusually choppy night sailing down the coast. Gantheaume point, which bisects Broome’s two main anchoring areas, first appeared as a shimmering mirage. Then it resolved and expanded into a wide bay. Broome is a popular spot for tourists, mostly because of its immense beach and also as a stepping off point for tours of the Kimberley.

For us yachties, as they call us here, it is much more problematic, but it is the only place for several hundred miles in either direction to top up on any of boating’s necessities.

This is firstly because of the aforementioned beach. It is both long and wide, like the one in Blackpool, UK, but has the added appeal of not being in Blackpool, which means it can be strolled in the sunshine while wearing shorts. Since the tide range here can be as high as eleven meters, the high tide line and the low tide line are about 1/3 of a mile apart. If leaving the dinghy for more than a couple of hours, you will likely find it floating in deep water (if you remembered to anchor it) or way up on the sand a long drag from the sea. The only time you can really get around this is at neap tides, which are lowest midday. Then it is possible to ground the dinghy on the falling tide in the morning and plan to return in the afternoon when the water rises again to the same level.

This is except for the fact that there is nowhere safe to leave a dinghy unattended for very long, as petty theft and vandalism are not unheard of here. There are a lot of vehicles on the beach with either trailers or racks for carrying boats. It would be a pretty simple thing to shop for something nicer than what you have and trade up, so to speak.Thirdly, even if you can get to the beach, town is a long way away on a dusty, shadeless road with no sidewalks.

The only marine infrastructure available to us at Gantheaume Point was the use of a mooring ball. These come with a long list of things that aren’t included, like launch service, access to a laundry or shower block, fuel pump, water hose, electricity or a shuttle into town. What you do get is the authentic boating experience of watching loads of your money disappear to no effect. The price we were quoted for a week was one and a half times more than we paid for an actual marina slip in Darwin with most of the above-mentioned amenities. Uh, that’ll be a hard no, thank you. Anchoring is not that difficult.

Broome has a sunset cruise industry, and some lovely coastline and beaches

The picture shows us "helping" load up Nutshell's dinghy onto a trailer for the day (at low tide the beach turns into a parking lot

That being said, Broome also seems to have no shortage of really nice people. The first of these were Magnus and Wendy from Nutshell (whom we first met in Silver Gull Creek). They had arrived a few days before we did for what was not their first time through. Magnus explained that the only sensible option for going ashore was to get dropped off and picked up by someone who stays with the dinghy as the tide goes up and down. He then told us he would be happy to deliver and fetch us anytime we liked, so Maryanne and I could go together. We accepted on the provision that the agreement would be reciprocal, but for some reason, we never got to take them ashore in the pudgy.

Instead, when they wanted to go, they went through this huge kerfuffle of going to town while the other waits behind to borrow a truck with a trailer. Then they loaded their tender onto it with lots of heavy lifting and dragging. Then taking us to town with and the tender until it was time to return at a different tide state, where they undid the whole process. This seems to be par for the course here. Even biggish tour boats like Odyssey and Kimberley Pearl do the exact same thing every time they need to go to town. It was kinda fun the first time, but going through that every time you wanted to get to your boat would get pretty old pretty fast.

Magnus and Wendy dropped us off in town, where we rented a 4WD for the rest of the week. That way, Maryanne (mostly) could run around doing errands ashore while I (mostly) stayed aboard doing passage preparations. The next day, Maryanne met a local sailor, Ben, who offered us the use of both his car and his mooring in exchange for an Aussie cruising guide we would no longer need, and which Maryanne had already offered for free. He acted like lending us his stuff was the most fun he’d had all week and he seems like a particularly fun guy. Now we could return our rental a day early so we don’t have to worry about it being parked in the dark lot by the beach overnight.

Fist bit of sightseeing - and a meal out at Matso's!

Further up Cable Beach tourists have the option of a camel ride at sunset (we went to watch)

After repositioning Begonia to Ben’s mooring, Magnus and Wendy took us ashore again, all while acting like they couldn’t be more happy to do so. Since Maryanne had managed to get almost everything we needed on her solo day, she insisted we see just a few of the sights the tourists are enjoying.

We ate at pubs and strolled both along both the waterfront and through Broome’s surprisingly big Chinatown district (the Chinese were very involved in Broome’s early pearling industry). We skipped the seaplane flight to Horizontal Falls, but we did head to Cable Beach, just north of Begonia, to see the camels.

Yep, they do camel rides on the beach here. It’s a pretty big draw. The industry was set up by a woman who crossed Australia by camel before settling down in Broome. We didn’t sign up because we could never be sure we would be ashore then. After seeing the lines of camels plodding across the sunset in front of us, we both agreed that it looked like a lot more fun to watch than to do. Going 1mph on a long and uniform beach for half an hour could get a little tedious by the end.

Before we returned the car - we did a loop of the coast road scenic stops.
The area is famed for its miles of dinosaur tracks to be found on much of the coastline - but we didn't spy any

The town has plenty of nods to its Aboriginal and Asian history and pearl diving industry. And there are little touches everywhere to make it very pleasant to hang about in

Finishing our shore list early left us with a much-needed day using the last of our cellular data. Emails to officials had to be sent, charts had to be updated and podcasts had to be downloaded. I did a trip up the mast to scrutinize our rigging, which looks good, if a little dusty. The last big item is to go ashore the day before we leave to meet Customs, who said they would come out to the beach for us. After that, I’ll put the dinghy in lifeboat mode and we will be ready to go.

{Maryanne: We are now provisioned with fresh veggies, a fancy new stove top toaster (that actually seems to work - thanks Wendy!), we had our 2nd COVID booster shot and think/hope we are all set with the formalities for our planned route ahead.}

Our track around Australia - Courtesy of Following Sea

We have now been in Australia for just over thirty-three months and 20,000 nautical miles. Most of it, we have loved, including many of the friendly characters we have met along the way. It is a vast and beautiful country and the people who live here really are some of the world’s luckiest. I don’t think we could have spent the last almost three years in a better place.

Australia is so varied that it is hard to pick our favorite parts of it. On our short list would be Lord Howe Island, Tasmania, the Recherche Archipelago (on the southern WA coast) and, of course, the Kimberley region. To be fair, most of Australia is pretty amazing in one way or another. It would be pretty hard to go wrong picking places to visit here with a dartboard and a map. We have been so fortunate to see so much of the continent’s outline from our own floating home - except for the Tweed Head bar; we are happy to never see that place again.

[Maryanne]Australia - We’ve had an amazing time. Thanks for the memories!!!

We depart on Tuesday to start crossing the Indian Ocean - THANK YOU to all the many people we met along the way and the MANY kindnesses you have gifted us. It's tough to leave.

Wineries, whales, wombats, and lots of other wildlife. Snorkelling, sunsets, caves, cities, beaches, its all been marvelous. What a wonderful place!

Begonia has spent 2 years and 9 months in Australia, we circumnavigated with the boat and the boat has seen JBT, Lord Howe Island, NSW, NT, QLD, South Australia, Tasmania (3 times), Victoria, and WA (including the Kimberley).

That’s 213 separate anchorages, 2 careenings (both times in NT), 2 paid wall/dock, 6 free docks, 15 Marinas, 4 paid mooring balls, 39 free moorings, 2 private mooring balls (many thanks!) and 2 different boat yards (both in QLD).

Additionally we took a few side trips by car to see the ACT, and numerous national parks.

Crawford Bay (exiting The Kimberley)

[Kyle]From Hidden Island, we had just a little more time in King Sound before we had to make the two-day jump to Broome. We decided to sail a few miles south to Crawford Bay to have a last relaxing few days in the Kimberley before we say goodbye to it all.

Well, I say ‘sail’, but it never really happened. We had a forecast for ten-knot winds out of the north, which would have been perfect for the spinnaker, but they never materialized. The most we saw all day was two-and-a-half, which will barely lift the sail under its own weight.

Beautiful flat seas for the passage to Crawford Bay

We left on the end of the ebb, which put the current against us. The sea was flat from a distance, but up close it was a boiling miasma of eddies and whirlpools. Just before low tide, all of that stopped within about five minutes, leaving us gliding over a pane of glass. There was just enough haze in the air that it was impossible to make out the actual horizon. All of the land in the distance looked like they were floating in midair, as if some kid had colored in cumulous clouds with earth tones and drab greens.

When the whirlpools started to return, we got excited. We had been fighting currents between two and five knots while making four-and-a-half through the water. Our ETA sometimes said tomorrow, sometimes disappeared altogether. Now that was all going to change. The ebb died down to less than a knot at slack water, swirled around a bit and then the flood arrived from the exact same direction. What the hell? Now we’re going slow again. Perhaps we were in some kind of a back eddy. Oceanography can be a real mystery sometimes.

We decided to have dinner underway instead of waiting until we were anchored. After I finished the dishes, I emerged from the cabin to find Maryanne with a smug smile on her face. We were finally going seven knots, which meant we would definitely be anchored by nightfall. Whew!

Crawford Bay is big, ringed with steep hills plunging down to the water. There are few inlets or coves to explore and what there is requires a pretty long ride in the dinghy. The views of the islands in the distance are spectacular, particularly at sunset, and we enjoyed having the chance to relax and reflect on our time in this special region: The Kimberley. We are so glad we finally were able to visit the Kimberley.

[Maryanne]Our time in The Kimberley has now ended. What an amazing trip we've had. We know we skipped a number of areas that others class as 'must see' - so there is plenty more to it than we have been able to share through the blog. Our minds now switch to planning our exit from Australia and all the formalies and triple checking that entails. We did manage to finally setup and test our water maker at Crawford Bay - thankfully that works just fine (Slow but steady).

[Maryanne]Thinking of visiting the Kimberley with your own boat? – Check out our Cruising the Kimberley Tips