Friday the thirteenth. Is that why it's raining? I prefer the wisdom of the old bushman who once told me: OIt generally rains after a dry spell.' I can't complain. We have been under sail since leaving Palm Isles and Duyfken has shown us how she can sail to windward if the conditions are right. At eight I hand over the watch to John. Gary and Greg are both on leave for this leg, leaving Andrea and I as the only watch-keeping officers. Rather than standing a regular watch myself, I have opted to promote John for the voyage to Townsville. It's his first time in charge of a watch and he is handling the responsibility well. I have secretly enjoyed watching him sweating over some of the tight navigational situations we have been through on this leg as we beat in and out of islands and reefs. A cheeky, insubordinate fellow at times, it will do him good to see things from another angle. It would be a shame if it cured him of the cheeky insubordination thing though. Mid morning the rain sets in. I am getting dripped on as I try to finish yesterday's journal, already a day late. The drips turn to streams. Oh dear, it's bloody well raining in here. I thought I fixed those leaks. The biggest problem is they didn't have waterproof laptop computers in the 1600s. We are sailing slowly through the Western Channel between Magnetic Island and the mainland. The Townsville wharfs were in sight until the rain set in. In a moment of weakness I ask the crew if they would rather start the motors for the last five miles. We could be alongside the wharf by lunchtime. OYour call, skipper,' says Steve. OOK, we'll carry on sailing,' I decide. A good decision. The rain clears half an hour later and we are treated to fine views of Magnetic Island on one side, Castle Hill on the other as we make our approach to the channel. Suggesting starting the engines was a bad decision. The spell of sailing has been minutely undermined, the sense of achievement lessened by some small degree. I forget sometimes what a fragile thing that spell is. Doing things the hard way, the 1600s way, can seem pointless when there is an easier, more comfortable alternative, but it only seems pointless when the alternative is actually articulated. Until then the magic survives. Sailing Duyfken, at times, requires an active engagement of the imagination. She is the ship of dreams, after all. We sail until we run out of time, wind and water. We use the engines for the final three miles up the shipping channel and tie up alongside the Reef Headquarters wharf. The permanent crew start getting the ship into museum mode and the voyage crew pack their bags. We have a short ceremony on deck where I hand out discharge certificates to those leaving us. Even after only five days at sea our eight voyage crew are feeling a bond with the ship. It is obvious. Todd says he would like to shout dinner for the permanent crew. Thanks Todd. They are a lucky mob. Cairns to Townsville has been one of the best legs of the voyage as far as sailing is concerned. May the good conditions continue.