There
is something liberating about bareboating in the
Whitsunday Islands; the sheer exhilaration of
controlling your own yacht and pointing to any
of the 74 islands that you want.
For those not in the know, bareboating
simply means "skipper yourself". In
the Whitsundays, there is a huge range of motor
cruisers and sailing yachts, which you can hire
and cruise to the islands yourself.
In fact, the Whitsundays has
the biggest bareboat fleet in the Southern Hemisphere
and the yachts range from basic to super-luxurious.
Anyone with a driver's licence can pretty much
learn how to sail a yacht.
Before you head off into the
wild blue yonder, Whitsunday bareboat companies
provide basic training on managing your yacht
and how to stay in regular contact via radio with
their staff back in port.
With a group of friends, I hired
a 46ft Benetau yacht from Whitsunday Rent a Yacht
(incorporating Australian Bareboat Charters),
which have their own private jetty in Shute Harbour.
The craft was large and comfortable with four
double cabins, three "heads" (toilet/shower),
a "galley" (kitchen) and comfortable
lounge area. There was even a gas barbecue outside
on the stern.
Once our instruction was over,
we set sail across the Whitsunday Passage. There
is nothing like the freedom you feel as the wind
fills the sails, the boat glides through the waves
and you can see the mainland slipping away behind
the horizon.
We approached Hook Island and
dropped anchor in Nara Inlet, a fjord-like place
with its tall peaks, rocky outcrops and sandy
coves. We feasted on a cache of fresh oysters
as the sun set and the clouds turned orange.
Next morning, we rose early and
pointed our yacht out of the Hook Channel into
the remote wilderness of the eastern side of the
outer islands. Jungle slopes rose up to meet rocky
crags, stuck at weird angles out of the ridgelines.
Heading south, we soon came across
a beautiful bay on the eastern side of Whitsunday
Island. Pulling down the sails, we motored into
the anchorage, dropped anchor and turned off the
engine.
An amazing silence descended.
The morning sun hit the rainforest slopes and
illuminated a giant, rocky crag perched on the
hilltop. Peter Head was its name. From the shore,
there was the sound of cicadas; their continuous
chirping rose and fell in strange rhythms.
It felt like we were as far from
civilisation as we could get.
On the shore we could see a strip
of white. We headed over in the dinghy and found
ourselves on a beautiful sandy beach. Large banks
on the beach divided a creek inlet in which dozens
of tiny fish swam this way and that.
We headed into the forest behind
the beach and discovered a large grove of Alexander
palms. The sun cast dappled light everywhere.
We could see tiny birds flitting through the tree
canopy. It was heaven.
Walking back to the beach, I
decided it was time to check out the marine life.
Donning mask, snorkel and goggles, I swam out
into the bay. The reef stretched out from the
beach in a large wedge shape. It was beautiful,
all kinds and colours of coral and teeming with
fish.
I eventually swam out to the
yacht and saw that the others had been on a fishing
excursion in the dinghy and returned with the
fruits of their labour - a rather large coral
trout that was perfectly grilled for lunch.
We then hauled up the anchor
(the motorised winch meant we didn't have to do
any actual "hauling" ourselves) and
pointed our yacht south. As we sailed past the
bays of Whitsunday Island, we were treated to
more views of the primeval ridgelines and rocky
crags that give this island an ancient, untouched
feel.
Soon we turned into the spectacular
wonderland of Whitehaven Beach. This 6km stretch
of silica white sand sweeps north into a series
of sand dunes and sandy banks which mark the entrance
to the pristine Hill Inlet.
The water was calm so we anchored
off the northern end of the beach and marvelled
at the sandy paradise on shore. The water was
turquoise in colour. It was so clear we could
see the anchor lying on the ocean floor. We made
our way in the dinghy onto the beach. It was the
perfect spot for a swim, picnic or a general lounge
around the beach.
On the other side of Hill Inlet
is a boardwalk leading up through tropical bush
to a beautiful lookout that takes in views of
Hill Inlet, Whitehaven Beach and several islands.
After exploring the beach, we
headed south in the yacht and dropped anchor in
the south-east corner of Whitehaven where there
was a safe, overnight anchorage. In the morning,
we had a dip in the ocean and I went for a brief
snorkel over the fringing coral reef, which marks
Whitehaven Beach's most southern point.
Then it was time to haul up the
anchor again. We sailed through Solway Pass and
along the southern edge of Whitsunday Island,
admiring the sea birds flying above the rugged
coastline.
After gliding through another passage between
the islands, we turned north and soon sailed into
the wide magnificence of Cid Harbour. This large,
natural harbour is uninhabited and defined by
its series of beaches and rainforest mountains.
We dropped anchor at Sawmill
Beach and motored ashore in the dinghy. This is
a popular anchorage for yachts so there is always
some activity going on.
We noticed that there was a nearby
creek with running water and we followed it up
through the rainforest. Soon, we came across a
beautiful rock pool with a waterfall gushing into
it. We jumped in and the surprisingly cold water
gave us an initial shock. But soon I sat under
the waterfall and let the pure rainwater wash
over me. It was wonderfully refreshing.
Sawmill Beach used to be the
site of a sawmill that pioneers used to cut the
local timber many decades ago. Apart from the
remains of an old dam wall in the creek, there
were no other signs of this enterprise. The rainforest
had reclaimed it all.
We soon ventured back to the
beach and the crew member who remembered to bring
the prawns ashore was roundly praised. We sat
on a couple of boulders overlooking the bay, peeling
prawns as the sun dipped towards the hills of
Cid Island.
There was the chatter of bird
life in the trees and I saw a fish jump out of
the water just off the beach. Dinghies lazily
purred this way and that among the yachts anchored
in the bay. I could see someone barbecuing something
on a cockpit grill. The pace seemed so laid back.
The pressures of work had totally slipped my mind.
I wondered if this could be paradise.
It certainly seemed so. And the best thing about
this special moment was that the journey was not
over. Tomorrow we could point our boat towards
a new island and a new adventure.
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