The Whitsundays are 74 beautiful tropical islands on the east coast of Australia discovered by Captain Cook on the day after Whit Sunday (he forgot to adjust for crossing the international date line). They are a major attraction and the standard way to see them is with some kind of sailing trip. There are all sorts of boats to cater for different interests and budgets. I wanted to go on one of the Maxi Racing Yachts because, well biggest and fastest is always best. With that in mind I also wanted to avoid the party boats full of 18 year old piss heads. I’ll quote from a mail I received from Rob, someone I met in Vietnam shortly after he visited the Whitsundays…
“When we booked the trip we were asked if we wanted an excursion boat or a party boat and of course we chose the party boat but nothing could have prepared us for this carnage. This was beer bongs at 7.30am; this was Come on Aileen before 17.00. The scale of the destruciton was due largely to a bunch of lads from Manchester who called themsleves “Group D” (this had been their group number on Fraser Island apparently, we were the far more refined “Group C”). They brought the beer bong and were instrumental in much of the debauchery. One of their number – Alistair from Ireland never actually made it onto the boat. Alistair was a classy guy, on the day we sailed Alistair had his cock out by 10am, had shagged some desperate Scottish lass by 11am, was naked on all fours licking crisps and beer off the ground during the sail briefing and then passed out en route to the yacht. Some paramedics were called and the rest of Group D had to run back and negotiate his release. When he rejoined us he got his cock out again and shouted that we could all suck it. To our relief the skipper eventually said he wasn’t allowed on the yacht and he forfeited his trip, thank Christ.”
In the end we settled for 2 days and 2 nights aboard the maxi yacht British Defender. Time would tell how it would turn out however I was looking forward to getting to know people on our trip. With some 30 odd people on the boat there were bound to be some people I would get on well with although I was put off a little before we even got on board by three English lads, a Londoner and a pair of Jordys. They emptied six litres of water only to fill the plastic bottles with Vodka (no glass bottles allowed on board). All this for two nights on the boat.
Regardless I got talking to the geezer from Wembley shortly after boarding the boat and he told me all about his trip on Fraser Island… driving really fast on the beach and scaring the living daylights out of the girls in the back so much so that he got voted out of the driving seat (they were on board and able to confirm this). This was exactly what I feared when deciding against the Fraser self drive and made me even more glad that I didn’t do it. As the time past it became evident that this guy was friendly enough, but a true attention seeker and it occurred to me later that he genuinely couldn’t appreciate that not everybody lived their life like he did… The fact that he was planing a rugby world cup trip with his mates to Ko Samui said it all really.
Anyway aboard the boat with the sails hoisted the weather promptly turned, clouding over and making it somewhat chilly on board which wasn’t helped by the occasional splash (“Its a water sport. You will get wet” one of the crew members helpfully reminded us). I got chatting to several of the English on board but generally the conversation dried up after the standard where you been where you going spiel. There were two exceptions however, an gay chap who was well travelled and well learned and a Scottish girl who just didn’t stop talking… for two full days. Much as was the case in Madrid, I found myself getting on much better with the non English on the boat. I can’t really pin point why but for me conversations about how wasted one can get start to be tedious after a while… Most people on the boat, Germans, Dutch, French, Italians etc enjoyed a drink in the evening, but surprise surprise it was the Brits who were putting them away, separated into their own little group getting louder and louder as the nights went on (frustrating come early morning when there are 30 people crammed into a 24 metre boat with more than 20 trying to sleep). I can sympathise with Alan and his Benicassim grumble completely, and for that matter my Polish friends in Krakow who have to put up with Brits abroad far too often. This is how the 2nd evening ended up…
That is not strictly true. This is where the second night was headed with the Brit group when I retired to bed. One guy woke up on the floor as he was unable to climb into his berth (much to his girlfriend’s disgust) and another chap was unable to even make it below deck. Needless to say they were looking a lot worse for wear the following morning especially considering that rocking boats are not the place for monster hangovers.
Enough about the people. A little about the boat, British Defender. She was built for and raced in the 1989/90 Whitbread around the world race by the British Armed forces at a cost of £3.4 million. As a few of you know, I really like Sailing. Since family holidays on the Norfolk broads I’ve always enjoyed it. I am also impressed by technology and machines and yachts are no exception. This was a no expense spared racing thoroughbred… Of carbon fibre kevlar composite construction, even the tables were made from carbon fibre, all to give a lightweight and strong hull. With a full skilled crew she can manage in excess of 20 knots. This impressed me, and if you understand what on earth I’m talking about it will probably impress you too.
While sailing in the Whitsundays we only managed a mere 12 knots, but with the boat leaning nicely over to one side with all thirty of us seated high on the other, legs dangling over the ocean, to counter balance it proved to be good fun…
British Defender had lines and sheets everywhere (that’s ropes to the lay person – I was corrected on this by our skipper). Everything I’ve ever sailed has been very simple. A main line for each of the sails with maybe a few others for the sake of trimming. This beast was absolutely covered in lines. So many that with no amount of nerdy staring following them up, down and around the mast could I figure out what they were all for.
We were required to help out while sailing but this stretched no further than raising the sails with the grinders (winches) or repositioning them after a tack. This is what you’ve probably seen on TV with the Americas Cup with 6 or 8 members of the crew winding large handles very quickly with the look of relative ease. I can tell you now, that it is bloody hard work hauling a main sail up a 115 ft mast!
I took several opportunities to try and learn from our skipper (all these damn lines where doing my head in) and although I still got off the boat not understanding it all I knew a hell of a lot more than when I clambered a board). As a bonus, I even got some knot tying lessons (I’ll try to post a video of our skipper tying a knot in spectacular jammy git fashion, in the meantime here’s an uninspiring picture of me at the helm).
Now there was a bit more to this trip than just sailing and socialising. On day one we went to see Whitehaeven beach, first from a high view point then up close on the sand. It is the real gem of the Whitsundays but I’ll let the picture below explain why, and no, it is not mine, the weather and tide didn’t afford us such a view.
Walking out on one of the sand banks of fine silica sand just off the beach I was about 50 metres out with the water only at knee height. I turned around and was a little surprised to see a stingray resting on the sand about three metres behind me. It had either just arrived or I’d walked dangerously close to it without noticing. He seemed perfectly happy for me to stand within a metre of him. After about 30 seconds or so he gracefully swam off but slowly enough for me to follow him for a few metres. Wonderful creatures.
After our trip to Whitheaven beach and after another great feed from the on board chef we went snorkeling. I have to say the reef (which I believe is a tiny part of the huge Great Barrier Reef) was incredible. The coral was so vibrant, diverse and colourful as was the aquatic life. I could have stayed for hours if it wasn’t so cold. The went suits we had to rent in addition to the cost of the trip were as good as useless and like many others after 10 minutes I had to get out of the water.
Aussies are hardcore. They live with some of the most dangerous creatures in the world. They also will enter the water regardless of the temperature. The rest of the world do not. The wetsuits were woefully inadequate for “normal people”. Very few people bothered to go snorkeling the following day for this reason. This was of real annoyance to me. After paying a lot of money for the trip I was very frustrated and not being able to enjoy it due to discomfort. Unfortunately this was not to be the last time this happened to me in Australia.
Apart from the wet suits and bad weather (which cleared up 20 minutes before we arrived back in port) it was a good trip. Nice people, an impressive boat, stunning scenery and we even had the added bonus of several up close humpback whale sightings that were better than those we saw on the dedicated whale watching trip we went on in Hervey Bay… such is life.
