the “Lucky Bay”, just about missed, where is the reef gap?

the gap in the reef of Lucky Bay, out of which I was eventually launching this morning

One forecast for today was 15-20kn south westerly, which wouldn’t be very pleasant, another said 10-15kn westerly, which may be pleasantly pushing!

I was setting my mental alarm clock for 5.30am, to stick my nose out to the seas to feel the wind of the morning.

I did, and felt only strong south westerly…so I kind of happily jumped into my warm sleeping bag again, and listened even to some upcoming rain that early morning, nicely warm and cozy!

But at around 6.30, my usual time to getting up, I decided I would at least pack and move the camp towards my boat, and if on the way I felt like the weather was changing, I could still give it a go to at least Port Gregory, about 25 km down the coast.

I packed, and carried my two heavy camp equipment bags through the “inland highway”, where plenty of wheel tracks had hardened the sand a bit to make walking more easy. But only after I packed some gear into my lightweight backpack, I felt happy with the weight of the other two bags on my shoulders for this longer walk. But really, there is nothing I’d like to get rid of! All this bloody electronics gear plus batteries plus chargers you think you need to carry around in these days…especially my small laptop for instant updates!

I noticed already on a quick look over the dunes to sea the wind had shifted by then to almost the westerly section, the waves came way more perpendicular to shore than yesterday.

Once I arrived at my boat, I decided to give it a go, at least those short 25 km to Port Gregory!

It had a bit of a rainy squall whilst packing, but it was nothing too wet. And I would be wet soon anyway! Launching in the quiet lagoon was dead easy, and there was even a fisherman’s car already out on the beach.

The reef gap was still clean of breakers, at least with my good timing! But out there the seas were quite big, 4 m swell, and the solid reef made some ugly rebounds.

But the wind was moderate south westerly, which pleasantly swung around to the west, plus me going more south easterly than south only after Shoal Point! It was really PUSHING from the stern quarter! I couldn’t believe my luck, and was at Port Gregory in no time, well, at least compared to two days ago…around noon.

Then if conditions are so almost unexpectedly good today, then just keep on going towards Horrocks Beach, the next sheltered landing down south. I was kind of mixing miles and km up, just remembered something about a “short 20…” hop to Horrocks Beach from Paul’s book, but why didn’t I trust my GPS, telling me it was almost 30 km in a direct line?  

But I made so good speed the last hour, I was ok with even another 30 km, figuring I would be done within 4-5 hours and land well before dark. I was even turning in more south east after Port Gregory, and the wind would be even better following by then! If it stays like that…

For some reason I was associating Horrock’s Beach with “Horror Beach” in my gut feeling, and didn’t really felt like landing there, and I should have better trusted my gut feeling…Terry Bolland said the reef gap was there, but still with some surf…I saw on Google Earth a clean gap in an offshore reef, and had marked the spot in my GPS. Conditions were good, it was only noon, so why not going for it?

Conditions changed a little towards some stronger wind, about 20-25 kn, but it was still nicely pushing from the westerly stern quarter, nothing I couldn’t handle, and I was happily speeding easy along with over 7-8 km /hr.

I noticed the black clouds towering up in the south west, but was hoping the front would pass me as ‘my’ wind came form the west? I did for a while, until the clouds got even darker, almost black…

Exactly 1,25 km short of my marked reef gap it hit me – my strong-nicely westerly got killed by those black clouds, turning instantly into a 35-40kn southerly! Hurray! Hurray! Why the fuck didn’t I got up when I was awake first? I could have been already home and housed…

Out of those black clouds – well, black is really not my favorite color in clouds – came a rain squall which limited my vision towards the potential reef gap and any upcoming breakers. I had to fight as hard as I could to close up to the potential gap in 1,25 km…about half an hour I was fighting in the most horrible headwinds of my life and rain and lifting confused seas, trying desperately to find a gap in the fat reef breakers and a way to the safe calmer waters inshore!

The front eased a little for some minutes, and the rain stopped, and I thought I saw a glimpse of a gap. There was a light flashing once perpendicular off the coast, and I was hoping a friendly soul was watching my desperate fight for the entrance and wanted to help me once I was about there…probably only a wishful thinking and the flash was not meant for me. Anyway, I was nearing the spot I thought was the reef gap, and made it luckily without any trouble inside calmer waters with some good attention towards rearing up breakers.

What means ‘calm’ inside the offshore reef…it was blowing from the right side as it has never blown before in my life, and this was supposed to be flat water…

The landing was kind of blown away strongly to the side, but in a small dumper generally without much problem.

I was throwing my paddle high up the beach into safer areas as usual on a tricky landing, prepared to jump out quick to hold my boat with both hands in the strong side wash, but my paddle went for “run” alone along the beach! It simply didn’t stop rolling parallel to the shore in that strong wind! I eventually had to run and get it! Luckily my boat was high and dry enough in that time with no bigger wave washing in. Thank you, paddle!

It was blowing like the kleppers, and I had chosen a landing inside the reef just before the housing area, to find a quiet and peaceful campsite. There wasn’t anybody out there in this weather anyway to invite me in for a shower – stop, was that a lonely fisherman just showing up on the beach, some 50 m down? Some other crazy creatures out there – at least he was looking well weather-like dressed – but he was packing up again as fast as he came down. I was eventually able to strip in peace for a tiny freshwater shower, after I found a beautiful hidden more or less sheltered campsite in the dunes, right behind the high pole with the eagle’s nest on it.

Don’t even think stripping and showering and dressing in such chilly strong wind is an easy pleasant task! And I was even hesitating to dress in my nice dry clothes, as it started to rain again! Luckily it lasted only 5 min or so, but trust me, naked in such wind even for 5 min is not much fun! My bottom part started to become sandblasted, even from sand which is usually not that easy to be flying when wet!

But eventually I was dressed dry and warm, and headed to my sheltered campsite with my camping gear bags. I had to pull up my kayak all the way up the dunes, as the beach didn’t look to stay dry in some conditions! And if not today, when else may it be flooded?

After I got a bit dry and warm and there seemed to be a gap in the rainy squalls, I was heading uphill as usual to find possible cell phone connection, but all I found was a clean and green golf course, plus a row of nice houses behind it! I felt kind of like an outlaw in my dune camp down there…wet outside, but happy and dry inside!

During the night my tent got shaken to the roots, but there is nothing than a well-strapped Hilleberg in storm! It was raining again and again, until eventually I felt the rain and wind stopped and the front has fully passed. Thanks goodness! I was just thinking about my kayaking clothes hanging outside to “dry”, probably being well rinsed next morning, but soaking wet and cold…uuuhhhhggggg!

Text message from Freya via satellite phone:

28.22 114.25, Horrocks Beach. 55km, 8:00 am to 4:30 pm. I just about made it before a 20- to 25-knot westerly pushing got turned by a dark front to a 35- to 40-knot southerly.