Australia - Gove to Darwin

Gove Peninsula, the town is called Nhulunbuy, was an odd sort of place, and quite unique for us.  It was very ‘outback’ and exactly as such places are depicted in Australian films – hot, dusty, laid back and unhurried.  The land in the area is apparently owned by the Aboriginals and places like the yacht club and the mine lease their land.  Alcan Security, the company that had responded to our radio call on arrival, turned out to be a Bauxite mining concern and the main employer in the area – in fact the town had more or less grown around the mine.  We were intrigued to discover that this bright red rock is processed to make aluminium.  The people in the yacht club were friendly and welcoming to the few yachts out in the bay and offered us free temporary membership, which included the use of their showers and internet. We received good news here of a small financial windfall which we'd not been expecting, and which took the pressure off a little.  Hooray. 

The bar at the yacht club was well frequented by the locals, particularly the Aboriginals, and any rugby or ‘rules’ match usually filled the club.

The anchorage at De Belle Bay

The town itself was a bus ride away, but everything we needed could be found there. It had a good library and we managed to do a good swap of books to take with us. We bought a phone card and called my sisters in London and Mike’s family in New Zealand, but attempts to call Melanie, who only had a mobile phone, were unsuccessful. The weather was pleasantly warm but getting hotter by the day.


On 27 September we did our formal check out of Australia and left Gove heading for Bali in Indonesia. The famous Gugari Rip, or the Hole in the Wall as it is commonly called, is a narrow strait with currents of up to 11knots separating the islands of Raragala and Guluwuru, part of the Wessel Group which stretches up into the Arafura Sea. Not only would sailing through this gap take about 34 miles off our journey, the ‘Hole’ has a reputation as something scary but exciting to experience. Both locals and the other yachties spoke of it with reverence so we decided we should give it a go. As large quantities of water can pass from the Arafura Sea to Donnington Sound at very high speed on a flood tide, a safe transit requires good timing. We checked out the tides, planned it as best we could - and had an easy, unexciting passage with a current of perhaps 3 or 4 knots. Happily.

Approaching the Rip



In the Rip

Leaving the Rip

A boringly slow sail ensued, only 70 to 80 miles per day. The days were hot, sunny and hazy. It could be 80° at 8 am. The Coastwatch plane continued to monitor our progress. The sea was fairly flat, the motion not unpleasant, so we had good appetites. We ran out of fresh meat and fishing was unsuccessful so we had to resort to tins. The nights were dark and starry and our knowledge of constellations increased.



And then ... disaster struck. With little wind we were motoring gently when suddenly there was an awful metallic clattering - it felt like we’d hit a rock, in the middle of the ocean. Mike switched the engine off quickly and investigated, finding the prop shaft had somehow come loose, shaken itself out of position and was now bent (!) How does a thick, solid steel rod get bent? Anyway, we had no engine and couldn’t continue to Indonesia like that so we had to divert and go to Darwin.


There was almost no wind at all now and our progress was painfully hot and slow. Although it would have been shorter, we were concerned about navigating our way through the Van Dieman Gulf without a motor, so we chose to go around Melville and Bathurst Islands. Heading south and passing Bathurst, the wind died altogether and Forever came to a halt - dead in the water - and then actually started to drift backwards with the tide! Keeping a beady eye on the island behind us we considered putting our anchor down but fortunately the tide finally changed and we edged forward again. The Coastwatch plane continued to communicate with us but took little interest in our predicament. At one point we were charmed to hear them speaking to our friends on Taraipo. We couldn’t hear Taraipo but asked the Coastwatch to pass on our regards - I hope they did.


According to our pilot book, the tides around Darwin can reach seven metres. This was worrying news for tidal novices with no motor, particularly as the wind began to strengthen as we drew closer to port. Darwin port authorities were unhelpful and appeared to know neither when high tide would occur nor the height. The last few miles were exhilarating and terrifying with a fierce following wind and strong incoming current, but we managed to manoeuvre our way through various yachts and anchor at Fannie Bay with no more than shredded nerves. We put out lots of chain in anticipation - our depth on arrival that evening was 3 metres which rose to 7.5 metres by morning.


We rowed into Cullen Bay marina the next morning and investigated lifting out and getting a new prop shaft, but the marina was expensive and they wanted us to undergo some complicated and costly process to clean our hull of foreign, disease ridden barnacles. This seemed to us to be excessive since we had last cleaned our hull in New Zealand and had spent and past few months in Australian waters. Further investigation suggested the best (and cheapest) place to go was Sadgroves Quay, situated within the main harbour and up a long creek. With extreme trepidation, we lifted anchor the next morning on the rising tide and navigated our way through the busy Darwin main harbour and then tacked back and forth all the way up Sadgrove Creek. Exhausted, but very pleased with ourselves, we tied up to a buoy outside the marina that evening. That was the best bit of sailing we’d ever done and we laughed about our concerns over Van Dieman’s Gulf, which would have been a doddle!


The staff at Sadgroves Quay were helpful and no mention was made about disinfecting our hull. A new prop shaft was made and fitted, sadly expensive business, but it had to be done.  That more of less took care of our little windfall, and we were thankful it had come when it did.

Mike and Lois

Darwin in October was the most extraordinarily hot and humid spot on the planet.  Living on the hard, never pleasant in any circumstances, was particularly ghastly here as the whole yard was set on concrete. 

A little shade on the hard

We had already checked out at Gove and our visas had expired by the time we arrived in Darwin. Things with Customs were easily resolved and we were given a temporary emergency stay, but the rotten Immigration man got rather sniffy about it and decided we should pay $200 for an extension. We agreed to go and get the money and come back, but just never did. It was almost time to go by then anyway.



Out shopping in Darwin one day, we bumped into our Spanish friend, Lois, whom we had originally met in Tauranga. He was crewing on a yacht that intended to stop and winter in Bali, so when he heard that we were continuing to Singapore and Thailand, he asked if he could come with us. We were delighted, me particularly, as it meant a third person on night watch.  His friends, Jordi and Marina, were very sorry to see him go and assured me that he was 'the perfect crew'.


On 12 October we checked out, gratefully went back into the (relative) coolness of the water and headed north, not entirely sure whether to go to Dili in East Timor or Bali in Indonesia. We thought we’d let the wind make the decision.

Here’s a map of our journey around Australia during which we travelled a further 2114 miles, bringing the grand total to 23494 miles.