Kijana (7 page)

As we entered the harbour a rain squall hit, making it difficult to see the rocks we knew were on either side of us. We made it into the small harbour as the light vanished behind the hills.

It was a nightmare trying to locate the marina, then, once inside, it was chaos trying to manoeuvre the boat in the small space amid the driving wind and rain. After half an hour of me screaming orders to secure the mooring lines to one side, then the other, then back again, we had one shot at coming alongside a large steel-hulled fishing boat, which was the only mooring space available.

It was extremely difficult to pull off without damaging our wooden hull, for the wind was pushing us into the fishing boat.
Kijana
had to be slowly steered sidewards, then reversed at the right time so the wind would push us into position. A few scratches here and there and a hoarse voice, and we were safely tied up, albeit soaking wet and hungry.

I apologised for my yelling and I knew I was forgiven by the relieved grins on everyone's faces. It was time to relax and get some food.

The trip so far had been uncomfortable for all of us. I was on a downer because I wanted to get to the tropics, away from the cold, wet weather. Most cruising yachts choose to stay in a marina until the season is right for travelling, then leave when the weather forecast looks good for a week. But we were in such a rush to get to Papua New Guinea to start our adventure that we were enduring appalling conditions. I decided to hang tight in Coffs Harbour until the weather eased.

The rain had stopped by the morning but the wind was still strong. Everyone had managed to get a good night's sleep so we decided to get stuck into the mountain of jobs that needed doing. I compiled a list of everything I thought needed doing, then asked everyone to choose a few jobs to do during the day. These included wiping the salt streaks from the wood in the cabin, washing the dishes, drying the carpet outside, tidying the sail lines, putting the binoculars and charts away, washing the deck and hull with fresh water, checking the diesel, drying the bathroom, retying and covering the sails and buying supplies.

Josh took his list of jobs and headed into town. Back home he didn't have a car, choosing to walk everywhere. I think he was glad to get off the boat and move his legs again after being cramped up for five days since we had left Port Stephens. The rest of us decided to get our jobs on board out of the way so we could go ashore too.

Some jobs needed two or three people to tackle them, but most were individual efforts. Mika and Nicolette seemed to work at a slower pace than Beau and I, and often asked annoying questions. Not sailing-type questions, but commonsense stuff that I thought everyone should know.

‘I dunno, just make sure it's clean,' was my typical response. Any more effort on my behalf to answer a query on how to put things away from the table and I figured I may as well do the job myself.

About an hour later, I saw Beau grab his dirty clothes and I looked around to see that all his jobs were done. That's what I liked about him, he just did things.

He said he was going to do his washing, so I asked if he could wait a few seconds while I grabbed mine as well. I wanted to get off the boat as much as anyone, and I'd just finished what I had to do.

We had a bit of trouble finding the marina washing machines, then we had to get change for the machines. We had just put our washing in and started the machines when Nicolette and Mika stormed into the laundry and dumped their clothes on the machines next to us. They looked extremely pissed off and Nicolette had a go at us for not offering to do their washing. The thought had crossed my mind but I knew from experience that when either of them asked for a few seconds to get something it would take five or ten minutes. All I had wanted was to get away and do my own thing.

I could see that both were genuinely disappointed and angry, yet I couldn't understand why. Nicolette reminded us how she and Mika had done everyone's washing at Port Stephens. With that, they put their money in their machines, pressed the button and stormed off.

I was dumbfounded. It was as if I'd been reprimanded by a school teacher for doing something I didn't know was wrong. It didn't take long for a seething anger to rise in me. My head was full of ammunition to hit back with. I began thinking of everything I wished I'd said. I wanted to cut them down and let them know how I felt about their performance, that so far on the trip Josh, Beau and I had done all the sailing, while we waited for them to stop being sick and start pulling their weight on board.

One half of me was saying I should be understanding because they didn't yet have the confidence to take the initiative on board, while the other half wanted to have a go at them for personally attacking Beau and me. I wanted to remind them that they did the washing in Port Stephens because they weren't doing anything else, while Beau was cooking a meal and Josh and I were trying to send our update on the satellite phone. Beau and I sat in silence as we waited for our washing to finish.

That night Josh was lying on his bed while Beau and I played cards in the main cabin. Nicolette announced she wanted to call her mum from the phone on the fishing wharf but didn't have enough change. None of us did, so I suggested she hitch a ride into town to change a note. It hadn't been dark long and the shops would still be open.

She disappeared and I went to bed, leaving Beau to clean up the kitchen. A few minutes later, from under my sleeping bag, I heard her ask Beau if he would go into town for her to get the change because she didn't know how to get there. It made my blood boil and I hoped he'd say no. After the laundry incident, my patience was quickly running out.

I was wondering what Beau would say, when I heard him say ‘OK' in a tone I knew so well. It was the one he used when Mum asked him to do something he didn't want to do.

As he left the boat, I pictured him taking the note and walking in the dark to find a passing car, arriving in town, changing the note and arriving home a couple of hours later, all so Nicolette could call her mum.

The next morning he told me how the guy he got a lift with was smoking a joint and Beau had been concerned at the speed he was driving on the winding road to town.

By the third day in port the wind was still strong with no change in the forecast for the next two days. I was becoming more frustrated at the time we were wasting. I wanted to get everyone into the tropics where the winds were lighter, the climate warmer and we could catch fish for dinner. So far we hadn't caught one fish!

We were only 140 miles from Byron Bay, the easternmost point of the Australian continent. At that point we planned to veer away from mainland Australia into the Coral Sea en route to Papua New Guinea. I was becoming increasingly concerned about this leg. It could take us several weeks to complete and there was no land on the way that we could call into to rest if this poor run of weather continued. I was also aware of a growing dark mood among the crew and was not keen to embark on a long leg until the mood had lightened.

The option was to continue along the Queensland coast, around to Darwin, then on to Indonesia. There was no reason why we couldn't change plans – we'd simply visit Papua New Guinea on our way home. The only problem would be explaining to those back home why our course was changing. I really had nothing solid upon which to base my growing doubts about the performance of the girls, so it would be difficult to use that as an excuse. And to change merely because of the bad weather would seem a cop-out.

I spent all day wrestling with my dilemma. It was all so complicated. I had the office back in Melbourne to answer to, and then there was the media, who were eagerly following our progress, sponsors and, of course, the crew themselves.

I was wandering around deep in thought when I stumbled across a Wharram Tiki, a Polynesian catamaran, at one of the marina berths. It was the exact boat design I'd originally planned to use for my trip, except much smaller. I inspected its construction and admired its beautiful shape. A part of me couldn't help wishing I was aboard this small 24-foot boat, rather than the huge ship I was in charge of, with all its associated baggage. I sat there for the best part of an hour with all my thoughts.

I spent most of the day away from the boat and crew. As darkness fell there was nowhere else to go but back to the boat. Beau had cooked us a great meal of dhal – my favourite, especially when it's cold and miserable. It was the kind of meal I needed and it meant all the more coming from Beau.

It was another subdued evening. I hung out on the couch in the main cabin (my bed!) and casually talked with Josh. He'd done much the same as me that day, wandering around, thinking and listening to music. While we talked, Mika was off somewhere, and Nicolette and Beau were in their respective cabins – Beau at the front of the boat, Nicolette at the rear. It may have been a large yacht, but you could hear almost every movement of the crew, no matter where they were.

I heard Nicolette open the slide to her cabin and go out onto the deck. It was quickly followed by a loud thud. Josh and I looked at each other and I said ‘Nicolette'. Moments later she stuck her head down the companionway to tell us she'd twisted her ankle. That was no surprise. Nicolette was a self-confessed klutz, which was made worse by being aboard a moving boat. She would knock into stays, hit her knees against the stairway and scrape her shins against the winches. Her clumsiness was becoming one of those silly issues that was starting to bug me. Every time she bashed into something I winced because it usually looked like it hurt.

The boat wasn't even moving this time. Josh and I climbed on deck and inspected her foot. She seemed to be in a lot of pain. It made me cringe as I imagined how she felt. ‘Do you think it's broken?' I asked. She wasn't sure.

We did some prodding and worked out where it hurt the most, which indicated to me it was probably a sprain, not a break. Within a few minutes she was feeling better and able to clamber over the railings onto the neighbouring boat and hobble to the marina toilets. Josh and I went back downstairs and started to play cards. About 20 minutes later Mika charged into the cabin to announce that Nicolette had broken her ankle.

‘Yeah we know, but it's not broken, she just fell over on deck,' I said

She disappeared as quickly as she arrived, so we continued playing Uno.

A few minutes later, Mika returned and shouted down the steps to us: ‘She needs help getting back to the boat, she's really hurt!'

Her tone carried the heavy hint of accusation that we were a pair of heartless bastards. I think she expected us to follow her out when she came in the first time.

‘For God's sake,' I felt like saying, ‘get your story right, Mika. She was OK to walk over the fishing boats on the way to the toilet and now, all of a sudden, she needs help to get back.' But I held my tongue.

Mika's tone annoyed me as much as Nicolette's seeming need for attention. Josh and I climbed the stairs and followed Mika over the boats to the marina car park where Nicolette sat in tears. We helped her to her feet and Mika got under one arm while Josh got under the other to help her limp back to the boat. There was no room for me to help so I stood there like an idiot, trying to hide my suspicion by looking sympathetic. Her red cheeks shone from her tears and through the strands of hair hanging over her face she gave me a look of total disappointment.

The next morning I called the crew together. I broached the idea of changing course to continue along the Queensland coast. I explained my concerns about such a long stretch at sea in possible bad weather and that the proposed route would mean we could call into land as required. I didn't say it, but I also believed that while we were still sorting out teething problems our home country was probably the best place to be. I explained to the office how seasickness had been a major issue for the crew and how the rough weather was to blame. Once we got to the calmer water of the tropics hopefully the problem would disappear, but I needed to stay close to the mainland in case further problems arose.

There was unanimous agreement that the change of course was a good idea, so we officially re-entered Australia by notifying Customs. A weather window opened up two days later, so after seven days in port, we departed Coffs Harbour bound for Mooloolaba, on the Queensland coast north of Brisbane. It had been 39 days since we left Melbourne.

At sea, rather than leaving the troubles of what happened behind, I couldn't help feeling a growing divide in how I viewed Beau and Josh compared to the girls. It was not a question of experience. I knew none of them had sailed before so it was my responsibility to pass on what I knew. Nor was it a question of physical strength – Nicolette was probably stronger than Josh and me. Sailing around the world was a matter of attitude and approach, not skill, experience or muscle. I was able to sail around the world on
Lionheart
because no one was there to do it for me and I wanted the girls to approach Kijana the same way. I didn't think I'd made a mistake choosing the crew, I just desperately wanted Mika and Nicolette to start doing what I still thought they were capable of.

Our course was taking us nearly due north and, as expected, the weather became warmer. It didn't feel tropical but it felt like a good summer's day and the rain all but disappeared.

Five days after leaving Coffs Harbour we reached Mooloolaba to send our updates and take on fresh fruit and vegetables.

By the time we arrived, my mind was spinning. I didn't know what to do. The trip was not going how I had imagined it, and every time I searched for a reason I would always come back to the girls.

As soon as we docked we cleaned up the boat, then each of us headed off in our own direction. I desperately needed to get away from the frustration I felt when I was with the girls. Even the sight of them conjured up suppressed anger. I knew it wasn't healthy but I just couldn't quell the strong feelings I had.