There’s more to our Quindalup sail, a repeat attempt the following evening to get to Bunbury after we’d slept some and recharged the battery but with the same result…We made it to Dawesville when our dawn coloured sails indicated we would have a strong southerly on the nose throughout the long day ahead. Sick of pitching and pinching, having made a little headway through the night, we turned the tiller and bailed for Mandurah. We didn’t like going to windward against the swell.
As we gybed, the sails filled, the boom swung and we surfed with the waves. We experienced the kind of immediate relief you feel when you fill your stomach after being hungry. We sailed effortlessly through the morning, and in next to no time we had covered the ground it had taken all night to gain. We didn’t feel badly, the omens were good, the fabulous DPI mooring we had departed from the river mouth was still available. For another day Mandurah would be our playground, where we would swim, dine at local establishments and read under a shade of a tree for the afternoon.
In gybing ho-me, I learned to go with the wind and water conditions, to be flexible and allow for whatever time or direction they may take me. Having decided we weren’t going to Quindalup we suddenly had loads of time and we planned an alternate holiday to visit anchorages at Garden and Rottnest Islands. We both felt excited to be heading in a spontaneous and different direction together.