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Published: June 30th 2021
Seventeen hours on a coach is no one's idea of a good time, but if anything could be worth such an extended period of purgatory it would surely be the chance to indulge in a few days of leisurely sailing through a tropical archipelago. And having spent the previous two weeks giving both my upper body (on my Noosa River kayak trip) and then my lower body (on the Cooloola Great Walk) a workout, I figured it was about time I gave my tan a good workout too. So after taking the overnight coach about a thousand kilometres north from Noosa I ended up back in the tiny coastal town of Airlie Beach, where I had spent my first year as a backpacker way back in 2006. And just like I had during those heady days of my twenties, I had booked myself on a multi-day sailing trip through the Whitsunday Islands.
Waking to a cloudless sky on Monday morning (June 21st), I was soon making my way along the foreshore boardwalk towards the Coral Sea Marina, where I met my fourteen fellow passengers along with Dave the skipper and Elliott the deckhand for our 4-day trip aboard the SV
Sun on the Water, Wind in our Sails
Heading out into Whitsunday PassageWhitehaven, a 78-foot steel ketch. As with any extended group tour (the likes of which I very rarely participate in) the dynamics of the group can have a massive impact on your experience, but thankfully it soon became apparent that, much like my previous Whitsundays sailing trip (not to mention a slightly more recent sailing trip along the Turkish coast) I had lucked out with my newfound companions, which included a family of five, three younger couples, a pair of ladies in their sixties (one of whom in particular would prove to be the life of the party onboard) and a German radiologist named Uli. It was also a very refreshing change during these accursed days of no foreign tourists to have a mixture of accents onboard, with three Germans (all living in Sydney) and a South African-New Zealander couple amongst our number.
So with introductions having been conducted and the oversized esky/cooler box/chilly bin having been thoroughly stocked (the boat having a BYO drinks policy) we cast off the bowlines and headed out into the Coral Sea to begin threading our way through the Whitsundays in exactly the sort of weather you dream about having for such an
occasion. Passing to the north of the Molle Island group, with the distant Hayman Island seeming to float on a sea of sparkling jewels, we eventually made our way into the long, slender embrace of Nara Inlet at the southern end of Hook Island (the second-largest in the group), where we went ashore in the little tender to check out some old aboriginal artworks left behind by the Ngaro people, who lived in this region for thousands of years while it was still connected to the mainland, long before rising sea levels had flooded the valleys and created the archipelago now beloved of sailors and tourists alike.
Back onboard we devoured our buffet lunch, before motoring our way out of Nara Inlet and then back up into the adjacent Macona Inlet, where we had our first opportunity to go for a paddle in the tandem sea kayaks kept onboard. With Uli (who was about the same height as me) as my kayak partner - as opposed to all of my recent kayak trips which had been done solo - it felt as though I had a small outboard motor for assistance, as every paddle stroke seemed to propel me
Scenic Surroundings
The SV Whitehaven at anchor in Nara Inlet twice as far forward as I was expecting! So with little effort at all we made our way alongside a section of mangroves to arrive at a lovely little beach on the eastern shoreline of Macona Inlet, where I indulged in a refreshing swim after a spot of beachcombing, before we headed back to the mothership to get cleaned up in time for dinner - a lovely spaghetti bolognese prepared by the dread-locked Elliott, who at one stage during the afternoon had managed to snag his hair with the hook of a fishing rod suspended from the ceiling of the back deck! By his own admission, it was the first time he had caught anything with that fishing rod, despite numerous previous attempts at fishing...
Despite my suspicion that I would have to sleep up on deck (as I had done on each of my previous sailing trips) due to a combination of my claustrophobia and the confined sleeping quarters that are a feature of every sailing boat ever made, I managed to successfully contort myself onto the top bunk and was soon being gently rocked to sleep in the sheltered waters of Macona Inlet. And when the boat's
Setting a course for the sun
Emerging from Hook Passage early on the second morning motor started up shortly after 6am the next morning I was more than happy to lie in my bunk and watch the sky slowly lighten through my little bedside window, as we motored our way out through Hook Passage between Whitsunday and Hook Islands.
Mooring in Tongue Bay on the eastern side of Whitsunday Island (where around twenty other boats had taken shelter from the south-westerly winds overnight) we were run ashore in the tender to take the short walk up to a series of viewpoints that offer the classic postcard view of Hill Inlet's swirling sands leading in towards the heart of the island, while the narrow strip of Whitehaven Beach can be seen stretching off into the distance. From there we made our way down towards Hill Inlet, where Dave led us to a secluded little beach just around the corner. And then after enjoying a relaxing couple of hours without the crowds that swamp the area in the middle of the day, we set off back over the ridge towards Tongue Bay... where the sight of over a hundred people on the small beach - with many more being ferried across from their day boats all
the time - signified that rush hour had well and truly begun!
After another delicious buffet lunch we headed across to Border Island to once again seek shelter from the strengthening south-westerlies in Cataran Bay, before hopping in the water for our first snorkelling session of the trip. It was actually on the fringing reef of Border Island that I had my first ever taste of scuba diving way back in 2006, so it was nice to be reintroduced to the delights of the underwater world in a familiar place. Weaving our way between a series of isolated coral bommies, the variety of coral on display was quite stunning, and together with the usual plethora of brightly-coloured fish and a pair of sea turtles that Uli and I encountered towards the end of our session, we were very satisfied with our surroundings. This was also pleasing news to Dave, as it was the first time he had brought a group to Border Island since Cyclone Debbie had smashed all of the coral reefs in the Whitsundays back in 2017. Nature's resilience on full display.
Waking on the leeward side of Border Island (though the wind had been blowing
Semi-sheltered Snorkelling Spot
Moored up at Cataran Bay on Border Island over a low saddle for most of the night) most of us went in for a post-breakfast snorkel on the other side of Cataran Bay - with the exception of Uli, who was still traumatised from freezing his arse off during our snorkelling session the previous afternoon. We then rounded the headland on the western end of Border Island and sailed back down the eastern side of Whitsunday Island, all the way to the far end of Whitehaven Beach. Our skipper Dave had been tipped off that there was a small beach near here where a large amount of rubbish was washed up on the sand, and was keen to take the opportunity to clean it up with his willing group of 'voluntourists'.
So after enjoying lunch onboard the big boat we took it in turns to hop in the little tender and have Dave run us through the constricted Solway Passage (which he wasn't keen on taking the big boat through) between Whitsunday and Haslewood Islands. Picking our way through the shallows we arrived at the beach (which would have been no more than a hundred metres across) to find that the family of five (who had arrived
Six kilometres of pure silica sand
Passing Whitehaven Beach on day three about thirty minutes earlier) had already filled four large sacks with rubbish - all of which would have drifted onto the beach from elsewhere due to the prevailing winds and ocean currents, as the beach itself would be seldom (if ever) visited by passing boats, due to it's location beside the swirling Solway Passage and with the famous Whitehaven Beach only a short sail away to the north. The fact that virtually all of the rubbish we collected was weathered and broken down confirmed this assumption.
Unfortunately, with the family having collected all of the largest, most obvious pieces of rubbish, it left the rest of us to painstakingly collect the smaller pieces - most of which had already been broken down into bite-size pieces, and the knowledge that some sea birds in particular have been found to have hundreds of individual pieces of plastic inside their stomachs made our discoveries even more infuriating. Being of a somewhat obsessive compulsive nature myself, I couldn't overlook any rubbish that I came across - no matter how tiny or difficult to pick up it might have been - and it was only when I had collected my 1000th piece in just
Getting To Work
Hitting the sand for our beach clean-up over an hour that I was able to force myself to stop counting. By the time we had finished our clean-up session the fifteen of us had filled eight large bags with rubbish, and that was from just one small beach amongst hundreds scattered throughout the islands (though one that would naturally draw a disproportionate amount of rubbish due it's south-easterly aspect).
As a reward for our efforts we were collected from the unnamed beach and deposited on the other side of Solway Passage at the southern end of Whitehaven Beach, where the crowds of day-trippers were being transferred back to their various vessels for the trip back to Airlie Beach. But with time on our side I decided to take advantage of the opportunity to stretch my legs, heading into the bush for the thirty-minute return walk to a couple of scenic viewpoints looking out over the southern end of Whitsunday Island and some of it's closer neighbours. By the time I got back to the beach there were very few folks left on the sand, and under ordinary circumstances I would have envied the two families with tents set up at the National Park campground set just
Island Views
View from Solway Lookout on the southern end of Whitsunday Island back from the beach. But with one night left of our sailing trip, there was nowhere else I'd rather have been than back aboard the SV Whitehaven; and no sooner had we all been collected in the tender and transferred back to the big boat than Dave was firing up the engine to tackle the two-hour trip back up the eastern side of Whitsunday Island to seek shelter from the wind and waves in Hook Passage.
Entering the narrow strait between the archipelago's two largest islands just as darkness was setting in, it was as though someone had flicked a switch and turned off the wave pool, as we suddenly found ourselves cruising on calm waters with only the lights of a dozen or so other boats to give us any idea of where the shoreline lay to our left. But Dave's decision to relocate to Hook Passage had not only ensured we would sleep soundly in the comfort of calm waters, it also cut over a third of the distance off our return journey to Airlie Beach the following day, meaning we would have plenty of time to enjoy our surroundings in the morning. Our trusty captain had
Down at Sea Level
View from the tender on the fourth morning also dropped anchor only a short tender ride from a beautiful secluded strip of sand (named Scrub Hen Beach) facing north out onto Hook Passage, so that as soon as we had finished our breakfast the following morning we were able to land on the beach and conduct an official audit of our rubbish collection from the day before.
This meant spreading a tarp out on the sand and emptying out the contents of each rubbish bag to classify and quantify the contents - starting with what each item was made from (almost entirely plastic) and then further breaking each item down into it's intended use (ie household items, food and drink packaging, fishing paraphernalia, etc), though by far the most numerous category would prove to be unidentifiable plastic remnants (where less than 50% of a product remains) which, at our best guess, consisted of close to 5,000 items. As each bag was emptied out, we would encircle the pile and set upon the rubbish, dividing it into different piles with each of us inevitably taking responsibility for a particular kind of product: mine would be plastic container lids (with a side-interest in golf balls), of which we would
Loving Life
At Scrub Hen Beach on the northern end of Whitsunday Island ultimately tally 772. Yep, that's 772 either mostly- or fully-intact plastic lids found on one small beach, all of which had washed up from elsewhere. Altogether we had collected close to 10,000 pieces of rubbish, which when weighed back at the marina would clock in at around 70kg worth. It really is enough to make you lose any faith you've ever had in humanity, though to be honest I've never had much faith in our species to begin with.
After bagging up our haul of waste, Dave took us on an impromptu little nature walk along the back of the beach, showing us a gigantic nesting mound that a (presumably long-lived) resident scrub hen had constructed - hence the name of the beach - and pointing out the tracks of a wallaby and a couple of lace monitors in the sand. He also took a particular interest in what looked to have been previously-excavated turtle nesting sites, making a mental note to come back and check the beach during the summer turtle nesting season. With the ban on international tourists due to coronavirus hitting tourism operators in this part of the country particularly badly, Dave has had to diversify
Counting the cost of a throwaway culture
Conducting our rubbish audit on Scrub Hen Beach his business, and has managed to obtain subsidies from the state government for participating in environmental projects - such as the rubbish collections his passengers on the 4-day 'eco cruises' have been performing - as well as conducting scientific trips such as an upcoming 12-day beach restoration project on a turtle nesting beach off the coast of Mackay. His hope is that by the time the government's grant money dries up his 4-day tours (which he has only recently started offering, as an alternative to the usual 2-day tours) will be popular enough to be financially viable. One can only hope that this will prove to be the case, and that this might then have a flow-on effect to other boat owners and commercial interests in the area. Time will tell.
After enjoying our final meal aboard the boat, we then had a further treat to enjoy before our return journey to the marina, as the combination of a falling tide and sunlit sky had conspired to present us with the perfect opportunity for a final snorkelling session... and with the colours of the reef extending out from Scrub Hen Beach being clearly visible (and irresistibly alluring) from the
deck of the SV Whitehaven, we didn't even need to use the tender (though most chose to do so anyway) to take advantage of it. For me it was simply a matter of grabbing my snorkel gear - with the warmth of the sun and lack of any wind meaning the insulation of a stinger suit was no longer necessary - and jumping in from the boat's railing, with a two-minute surface swim positioning me perfectly above the outer edge of the reef.
For the next hour or so we swam contentedly over a kaleidoscope of coloured corals, with fish of every size and shape (a 60cm Barramundi Cod providing a personal highlight) competing for our intentions. And with the sheer size of some plate corals (up to ten feet across) and staghorn corals (one of which resembled the antlers of a hundred reindeer all tangled up together) it was obvious that this reef had survived the onslaught of Cyclone Debbie back in 2017 - presumably a result of it being somewhat protected on all sides by the constricted waters of Hook Passage. For many of us this snorkelling session would be the highlight of our entire trip, and
Heading back to port
Airlie Beach, with the Conway Range rising up beyond that was saying something considering how amazing the overall experience had been!
But all good things come to an end eventually, and sometime around 2pm the anchor was hauled up for the final time as we set off back past the Molle Islands for the three-hour trip back to Airlie Beach. If there's a better way to spend four days than sailing around the Whitsunday Islands then I'm yet to find it - though for the sake of thoroughness I'll keep looking. Of course it helps to have a captain who is not only knowledgeable about the area and passionate about exploring it, but also passionate about protecting it. These islands are a natural treasure that anyone who visits has a duty to preserve for the benefit of future generations, so that they might also have the opportunity to enjoy the wonders of the Whitsundays.
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D MJ Binkley
Dave and Merry Jo Binkley
Whitehaven
What a wonderful trip. Thanks for the memories. We had a day trip on the Maxi Ragamuffin to Whitsunday Islands. I really enjoyed reading your blog.