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| Day 104 |
19 July 2000 |
| Aru Sea |
| "Pecking Away at The Miles" |
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I come on deck at midnight to find Duyfken sailing along
beautifully with all sail set. Her sails gleam silver and the
sea around her glitters in the bright moonlight. The only thing
wrong with this scene is that we are heading for Darwin, not the
Pennefather River.
Reluctantly I tell Andrea to get her watch to start taking in
sail. Gary's watch is called and they join in, lowering away
halyards, hauling on clew-lines, handing sail and passing
gaskets. It takes about an hour to furl all the sails and secure
the yards with rolling tackles, purchases rigged to stop the
yards sawing away at the masts as the ship rolls. Mick starts
the engines and Duyfken rounds up into the wind and begins
chugging into the waves. Not nearly as pleasant or peaceful, but
now at least we are heading for our destination.
Today we cross the outward track of the original Duyfken on her
voyage of discovery. She passed this place on her way between
Aru and the Digul River east of here. I am envious of her
easterly course. She must have been reeling off the miles
effortlessly with the wind astern, while we struggle to make any
ground to the east at all, even under power.
While Jansz sails east into uncharted waters, we motor south,
and the biggest unknown for us is whether we will have enough
diesel to get us to the next fuelling port, probably Gove. The
day drags by slowly and uncomfortably. The waves increase in
height and steepness until Duyfken is staggering to a standstill
every few minutes, burying her beak-head into the sea and
kicking her timber tail-feathers up towards the sky. The crew
refer to this as Duyfken 'doing the wooden chook'. Not very
dove-like, not very graceful.
By evening the wind has eased and the sea has flattened out a
little. We have been able to set the foresail, braced right
around nearly fore and aft, and maintain our course. Duyfken is
much happier with even one sail set. Her speed increases with
the extra power and she rides over the sea much better. Crew
morale, already high, notches up another peg.
And then another two or three pegs. Happy hour. A mug of beer
for all hands.
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Peter Manthorpe
Master
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