Just how manoeuvrable is Duyfken? Nara Inlet is 500 metres wide and Duyfken is anchored nearly two nautical miles from the entrance. A very light and flukey breeze is wafting straight up the Inlet. Can we tack the jacht out of here? As the anchor lifts off the bottom we set sail. The wind is so light it takes a few minutes for Duyfken to start moving ahead. We inch across the to the other side. 'Stand by to tack.' I'm not convinced she will tack in so little wind and the rocks look very close. The engines are warmed up just in case, but Duyfken responds. Slowly. With such steep hills on each side, what little wind we have is coming from all over the place so conditions are about as difficult as they could be. We make over a dozen tacks in short succession over the next two hours, after which our patience is rewarded with being closer to the entrance by a few hundred metres. We have proved we could do it if we had time, but we are due in Airlie Beach this afternoon. ETAs and sailing ships don't mix, as if we don't know that already. All hands agree it was a worthwhile exercise, and many of the voyage crew express their surprise that what we did with the ship this morning was possible at all. Dave tells me he was considering mutiny when we sailed off the anchorage since he thought the master had clearly gone mad. As we approach Airlie Beach a fleet of local sailing ships comes out to greet us. We sail back and forth along the foreshore, showing off how well we can tack. All this morning's tacking practice really shows as Duyfken flies around onto each new heading like a racing jacht in the fresh afternoon sea breeze. Sailing in company with so many sailing ships is delightful. There are four schooners, Providence V, Atlanta, Schooner Friendship, and Ishmael, and two junks, Madame Wong and Marlee Coo sailing alongside us until we anchor near the yacht club in a final flourish of shaking canvass and whirling yards. We have been invited to Airlie beach to take part in the 'Paddling Through History' cultural festival. The festival focuses on the fact that the traditional owners of this area, the Ngaro people, have been paddling their bark canoes across to the islands in the Whitsundays since they became separated from the mainland about 6000 years ago. To celebrate local indigenous culture a fleet of outrigger canoes and kayaks will paddle around a circuit of the islands stopping at various resorts for evenings of music, dance and cultural events. The paddlers will be accompanied by any other kind of vessel that cares to join in. For the first leg of the journey, across to Long Island tomorrow morning, they will be accompanied by Duyfken. At the yacht club in the evening Duyfken's crew are made welcome in the festival's opening speeches. I am asked to come forward to accept a message stick made by the Ngaro people. It bears the inscription: 'Wadda Mullie', which is a traditional greeting. I make a short speech about what Duyfken is all about, saying that we are sailing through history, and end by asking permission to traverse the Ngaro's waters. Thankfully the traditional owners say we are welcome to. It would have been a long sail around the other way. Cian has the ship lit up by arc-lamps aimed into the rigging. Together with the ship's lantern, built by Rupert, glowing at the stern, Duyfken is a fine sight from the yacht club balcony. The lantern. It deserves a journal entry all for itself.