Seisia to Port Musgrave

Sunday 19^th June: it was strange waking up to leave. Though we have only been at Seisia for just over a week, it pleasantly seems longer.

Access in and out of the Seisia anchorage is a channel of deep water north of Red Island that is used by any boat larger than a dinghy. The actual bay past the anchorage appears on the map and GPS as too shallow to transverse in a yacht. However one cruising guide we have states it is passable and after a prior scout in the dinghy with the depth sounder, Tony had found a channel out that would save us distance and time. Just after sunrise, with the moon still in the sky, we motored across the bay.

Crab Island is rounded on exiting Torres Strait.

Approximately 14kms from Seisia we passed Muttee Heads, a heavily vegetated hill flanked on both sides by long white beaches. Muttee was a significant defence port in WW2 servicing a number of military units. In 1941 three wharves were constructed there when Jacky Jacky near Red Island Point was selected as an airfield. American and Australian troops were based with torpedo and other naval vessels that operated throughout the Torres Strait. In 1943 a Royal Australian air force radar station, know as No. 52 Dover, began operating on the hill above the beach. When the people from Sabai Island first moved to the mainland in 1948, they utilised the abandoned facilities left by the Australian and American forces. When Tony and I visited this area by road 7 years ago there were only a few artefacts of the radar station remaining – hard to imagine the presence of the war troops and infrastructure.

4.5kms further on is the mouth of the Jardine River. The Jardine flows constant freshwater and during the war water was pumped from here to Muttee Head and from there supplied to the vessels. I remember well getting bogged 7 years ago when attempting to drive to the mouth. From the sea, it appears as a section of dense green between the beaches.

Sunset at the mouth of Crystal No2.

17kms across the Endeavour Strait to our north the coastline of Prince of Wales Island, the largest of the Torres Strait Islands, was easily visible. I would really like to explore there but anchorages are apparently poor – perhaps possible by dinghy from Horn Island if we stopover there on our return, though Zowie complicates the quarantine requirements.

As we rounded ‘the bend’ into the gulf, we passed Crab Island, which is shaped like the claws of a crab and is favoured by turtles as a nursery. Another achievement reached and new land ahead.

The morning had been a pleasant motor sail but after lunch wind against tide made for a very sloppy rough sea, occasioning the need for a lie down until conditions improved mid-afternoon. Zowie no longer hides while we are travelling, staying in the cockpit with us unless the motion and noise is really bad. The downside of this is that she wants to continually sit on someone’s knee, which can be inhibiting when trying to do certain activities.

Nysa at anchor in Crystal No2

46kms from Seisia we turned into Crystal Creek Number 2 just after low tide. This required Tony to pick out the shallow entrance amongst shallower sandbars covered with a racing current from the incoming tide. 1.5 metres (which equates to only 50cms under the keel) was the shallowest depth we transversed – this is why we bought a catamaran. We had seen vehicles leaving along the beach earlier - there is 4WD road access from Vriliya Point, 10kms south, from where there is a track to the main peninsula road. A fishing/shooting tour group is camped at the creek entrance – the attendant small barge with logo was anchored near us at Seisia for a few days. We finally anchored at 5.30pm – after a long day Tony is again tired so hopefully the strong current here does not necessitate any late night manoeuvres in the dark.

Vehicle access to Crystal No2 is by 4WD along the beach

Monday 20^th June: Mid morning we walked a few kms along the coastal beach to the wreck of a steel steam ship. With the tide going out, the beach and exposed sandbanks made a lovely sight against the aqua coloured gulf waters. The wreck is very interesting – the chimney has fallen to the side but looks too tall for the size of the ship, which is very broad for its length and has an unusual bilge keel. The oysters covering the rusted remains indicate it is submerged at high tide, but at low the water left in the hull pours into a pool of water under the bow which contains small fish and a crab.

The bush camping areas at the creek mouth are on flat sand shaded by casuarinas – very pleasant and obviously popular. It was surprising to see a helicopter there this morning, which left and returned late afternoon, left again and returned on sunset - presumably carrying customers for the tour company, which would make it an expensive but very scenic experience.

As always, the rubbish along the beach is sad – I would love to have someone pay me to clean up the beaches regularly.

This wreck is just south of Crystal No2

Sleep last night was regularly broken by the alarm as we swung with the current. After the walk we did a reccy of the creek to find a new location. I don’t know how it is decided what is a creek and what is a river, but Crystal Creek is a very wide expanse of water. The northern side is muddy with mangroves and the southern, sand with bush. We disturbed a large crocodile, at least 3 metres, on asandbank and as it slid into the water we decided to retrace our route. The next crocodile seen was only 1 metre and seemed nothing to worry about in comparison.

All that remains of the superstructure

After a late lunch we moved Nysa further along the creek into shallower water that hopefully won’t be affected by the currents as much. We have telephone reception but no internet.

Tuesday 21^st June: peaceful undisturbed sleep. This morning’s high tide gives the illusion of a wide uninterrupted opening at the ocean entrance, and the creek itself appears as a lake. At low tide the entrance dwindles to a stream meandering snake-like through the sand, while the creek becomes definite channels separated by sandbars.

After lunch we walked along the northern beach to Crystal Creek Number 1, approximately 4kms away. The beach is largely under water at high tide. At the varying tidemarks is an abundance of shells the shape of cockle but in all variations and colours. I am drawn like a magnet to walk where the shells are, which is always in the full sun. Tony prefers to walk near the fringing Casuarina trees that provide shade and birds. Above the high tide delineation he found a number of turtle tracks, presumably nesting. A dugout canoe was also found past the trees lodged in mangroves – possibly swept there in a storm?  The entrance to Crystal Creek Number 1 dries out at low tide, and the creek behind was so shallow even a catamaran would be sitting on the bottom. Another very enjoyable walk.

Huge expanses of sand at low tide

While watching a DVD at night we unexpectedly heard quacking/honking and then a hard thump – no injured duck or goose (? Magpie goose?) found on deck or in the water so hopefully no permanent damage done – obviously did not see our anchoring lights!

Wednesday 22^nd June: heavy dew obscured the windows on waking. We motored out of the creek on the high tide at 7am when there was sufficient water even for a deep-keel monohull. The wind kept dropping out as we headed south, but when present was a southerly. This was the first time we had sailed Nysa into the wind and Tony was pleased how well she handled it, averaging 4-6 knots. The sailing was also accentuated by the music we could now enjoy on the CD player.

Vrilya Point 10kms south was stark with its red bauxite cliffs flanked either side by white sand dunes.  Arrived on the outskirts of the Doughboy River, 28kms from Vrilya Point, right on low tide at 4pm. We deferred our attempted entry at 1metre under the keel as Tony was concerned swell would bounce us on the bottom. Anchored offshore to wait for the incoming tide. In the meantime Tony did a reccy in the dinghy with depth sounder and handheld GPS – I gave Tony the handheld GPS and personal EPIRB years ago when he used to do solo bushwalks; at least now he is using them again. On the GPS he plotted the deepest channel and found an anchorage in the river. Just as the sun was setting I persuaded him to move – Tony was happy to do the entry in the dark following the GPS but I was not. With the incoming water we safely anchored as pitch blackness descended.

Dugout canoe found in the mangroves

During the afternoon reccy Tony had attempted to contact me using the handheld radio, which brought to our attention that the aging marine radio on board could receive transmissions but not transmit. Having the handheld means this is not a major problem as we can use it to contact others  – we just can’t stay in contact with each other when one is in the dinghy or on land, and the other on Nysa. Once we are in internet range we will mail order a replacement.

Thursday 23^rd June: at lunchtime we were surprised to see 2 Giant Qld gropers at the back steps. The largest was about 2 metres – we guess they probably check out all new arrivals for possible titbits. We then dinghied along one channel of the river – the waterways are extensive and broad, lined with tall mangroves holding the soil that is all mud.

A walk along the northern beach was quite depressing – there was the usual flotsam but an incredible number of plastic bottles, of all shapes, sizes and uses obscuring the sand. Those with writing still evident showed both English and Asian speaking sources. There are also a lot of light globes – household and large spot light – it is interesting how the glass stays intact. You contemplate trying to clean up the rubbish, and the amount is over whelming. Even a campsite amongst the casuarina trees had tin cans in the fire – I can never understand how people can bring food in but can’t take the rubbish out. This is the most desolate damaged beach we have seen and it really is sad.

There is no road into the Doughboy though tracks on the beach indicate vehicles drive here from the Cottlerell River, which is about 9kms north with road access – our friends Shirley and Ken camped there over the long weekend. We were alone here until mid-afternoon when a dinghy arrived from ? where with a lone fisherman – definitely mad keen, especially as he was still in the river when dark fell. Not what I would call fun, but then I am not a fisherman.

Rock bar stopping progress upstream on Doughboy River

Currently there is a strong wind warning, and though we are registering gusts to 30 knots and there are waves in the river, it isn’t uncomfortable as yet. There is no telephone or internet access in this location.

Tying the dinghy to the side of Nysa we could see in the spotlight that we still had a resident groper.

Friday 24^th June: on the early morning incoming tide we dinghied along the largest of the channels looking for the fresh water source of the river. Amongst the mangroves, nypia palms (tall and straight, grows in clusters with large ball shaped seed pods) that can grow in salt water appeared intermittently. After a long distance the vegetation became a mix of mangroves, palms and paperbarks until eventually the freshwater vegetation of trees, shrubs and palms was only present, the clear water tasted non-brackish and the birdlife was more abundant. The channel remained wide, though quite shallow in parts. A submerged rock or log put a few dints in our propeller. Unfortunately for Zowie there was no landing spots as the banks were steep and heavily vegetated. After travelling approximately 7kms, we had to stop where a rock shelf totally crossed the river forming rapids. The pool in front of the shelf was 7 metres deep – though not tidal here, the downstream incoming tide could cause a build up of the fresh water at this shelf, so in theory the outgoing tide could see this level drop and then there would be a small waterfall across the river. Waiting for the low tide and then the high again to navigate back down the river was beyond our capabilities, so this remains a theory.

Freshwater section of Doughboy River

On the return trip a small 1 metre crocodile was seen entering the brackish water and a much bigger 2 metre crocodile in the tidal section. Once back we took Zowie to the entrance beach for a quick walk. The wind was increasing, whipping sand horizontally. By the time we were resettled on Nysa late morning, the winds were registering 25-40 knots. The fisherman was not in the river this morning, so I hope he is somewhere sheltered. Surveying the landscape late afternoon I decided this was the most unattractive anchorage we have had.

The resident gropers stayed either at our back steps or under the dinghy floating at the stern. By spotlight at night, a 2 metre shark was also seen by Tony – possibly a thresher?

Saturday 25^th June: by the morning the winds seemed to have calmed so we left on the ample depth of the in-coming tide. A pleasant sail in 15-20 knot winds was occurring until we were suddenly hit by a squall. With the sudden rush of momentum and noise, Zowie headed for the bottom step and refused to budge – possibly planning to jump ship? As we didn’t need a dog overboard right then, Tony lunged and grabbed her by the loose skin along her back and dumped her in the cockpit. We pulled the front jib sail in as the wind hit 31knots, breaking a pulley cog in the process (another mail order needed to replace the spare). With the aid of the motor we moved Nysa closer to the coast and dropped the mainsail. Once at a calmer distance inshore, we raised the jib again and motor sailed fairly comfortably the remaining distance to the Jackson River, although winds still 25 - 40 knots.

Nypia Palms on Doughboy River

The Jackson is 24kms from the Doughboy and there was ample water to enter the mouth at 1pm as just past high tide. A 1.5 metre crocodile was on the mouth’s southern beach as we approached. Similar to the Doughboy, there is a section pass this beach of tall dead trees – possibly died from encroaching salt water.

Since leaving Vrilya Point the coastline has been one long low vegetated sand dune, separating the rivers from the gulf. Due to the shallowness of most of the river mouths, it is all about timing. If you leave one on the high tide, you probably will get to the next on the low, which may not work.

During the afternoon 3 dinghies arrived and zoomed down the river. Earlier in the day we had sighted a large white ship anchored outside the MacDonald River to the north. We guessed it was a fishing tour boat possibly waiting for its guests fishing in the river. Prior to the dinghies appearing we had seen it passing outside of the Jackson mouth and guessed that is where the dinghies returned to on sunset – we toasted each other with our sundown drinks as they passed.

Nysa on the Doughboy River

Sunday 26^th June:  mid morning we walked pass the forest of dead trees to the mouth’s southern beach. The flotsam of buoys, nets and ropes is not as heavily polluted with plastic as Doughboy. Sighted a sea eagle soaring over its nest with 2 chicks present. The white fishing tour boat is anchored offshore, though only 1 dinghy returned to the Jackson this morning. The others may be in the Skardon River, which is only 7.5kms south? Whirly Whirlys whipped across the sand and walking back into the wind was tiring.  It is 15-25 knots today with occasional gusts to 30.

Tony finished putting speakers in the cockpit so now we can listen to CDs in surround sound.

Late afternoon 3 dinghies with caucasian families arrived and set up camp on the riverside of the mouth’s northern sand due. We expect they are from Mapoon, an Aboriginal Community 35kms south, on school holidays, as any further in a dinghy would be hard going? They are much braver than me camping only a few metres from the water’s edge.

Jackson River

The stars at night are amazingly bright – quite the wow factor.



Monday 27^th June: 11am we left on the incoming tide and motor sailed to Port Musgrave, which is a large bay into which the Ducie and Wenlock Rivers flow, and where Mapoon is located. It was a calm day with the winds never above 20 knots. The coast was just one long stretch of vegetated sand. At 5pm we anchored on the eastern entrance to the bay, opposite Cullen Point, which is the western entrance. While we relaxed with a drink and appreciated bush instead of mangroves on the shore, dolphins feed around us, a sea eagle soared and a hammerhead shark broke the water surface next to Nysa – this is the first hammerhead I have ever seen. There is sufficient smoke in the air to smell it – apparently burning off occurs. The sun setting over the ocean is a golden globe and we have telephone and internet reception again.

Ghost fishing nets are very common on the west coast.