We wake up find that the sun is out and there is a blue sky and fluffy white clouds awaiting us. After days of thick cloud and mist for the first few hours, to feel the warm sunshine is wonderful so early in the day.
Mike takes the boat into the marina to tie up at the public pontoon. Here we can top up our water tank and get rid of our rubbish. After all the nonsense about the insurance yesterday, it’s ridiculous that we can drive the boat into the marina with what the company here thinks is inadequate insurance to use the public pontoon, after all, we could hit any number of boats on our way in.
After topping the water up we give the cockpit a quick clean and attempt to rinse the thick mud from the anchor and chain, then we are off.
It’s another short hop over to the other side of Whitsunday Island. As we motor yet again past the little islands, I am reminded so much of the waters around the north of Vancouver Island in Canada. Little islands, rock strewn beaches and fir trees almost down to the waterline. There are no palm trees here.
We pass some beautiful residential properties along the island waterfronts, and one positively ugly high rise resort which is visible from miles away. I am surprised they were able to get planning permission for something this unattractive.
I put some nibbles out on the table – our arrival at Whitehaven beach will mean a late lunch. Today I am going to cook kangaroo steaks and even Isabella has promised to try it.
As we round the corner and catch our first glimpse of the bay, it is almost breathtaking. A 6 kilometre stretch of pure white greets us. This is a tourist destination indeed and there are lots of day tripper boats anchored and even two sea planes land while we are still approaching. However, nearly all the boats are anchored in the far south of the bay, just tucked behind the curving headland. There is probably a reason for this, but we decide to go further along to an area of sand dunes where there are no boats, and more importantly, no people. It’s probably an area full of box jelly fish, crocodiles and sharks – what the hell!
We drop the anchor but it doesn’t set so Steve takes it up again and Mike moves the boat a little further out to see if the holding is any better there. To dig the anchor in hard, he puts the boat into reverse but forgets to tell Steve to put the hook on it first. I know to do this but this is new to Steve. When the anchor bites, it pulls on the windlass so hard that the chain is ripped from its holding and feeds out - oops. I might need to make some more little discs from plastic bottles. Mike goes into the anchor chain compartment and inspects the windlass. Part of the mechanism has dropped (not good) but he manages to push it back into position (maybe good). We’ll find out how good the next time we use the windlass!
The sand here is of pure white silica, and it really startlingly white. In fact it looks more like snow. But first, it’s kangaroo time.
I cook one steak first to give the Suttons a taste – it’s no good cooking all of it to find no one likes it – but they all give it the seal of approval although Steve demands that his be cremated. Bad boy.
I serve them up with garlic mashed potato, the last of our wonderful packet Idaho mash which we bought in Panama. The steaks are not as tender as last time but good just the same.
So as not to burn ourselves to a frazzle, we wait until mid afternoon to smother ourselves with insect repellent (apparently mosquitoes and sandflies like this beach) and head for the beach in the dinghy. None of us fancy the swim in – while we were eating, Mike heard an almighty splash near the boat and doesn’t fancy coming face to face with whatever it was that made it.
I have to say that as much as Airlie Beach disappointed, Whitehaven Beach exceeds our expectations. It is stunning. A vast, wide, white expanse of the most beautiful sand I have ever walked across. Higher up the beach, out of the reach of the sea, it squeaks underfoot like crisp powder snow. Beautiful. Johanne and I write initials in the sand, lock away a happy moment and wipe the writing clear.
I lie topless in the sand, making a sand angel. When I get up I expect the sand to stick, but it falls away easily – no scratching or anything. It is such beautiful stuff.
Walking further along, it’s obvious where storms have ripped into the sand dunes and pulled down trees. Towards the north of the bay, a salt water lagoon has been created by a the build up of sand cutting the sea off across an inlet. As we walk towards it, Mike is mindful of the talk we had about the danger of crocodiles around the estuaries and keeps a sharp lookout on the shore as there is cover in the scrub all around. There are some suspicious looking trails in the sand, and we start to get a bit worried until Mike remembers that most of us will be OK. We have brought our very own supply of crocodile food, the one who can run the slowest … Johanne! As it turns out, we see nothing untoward other than angry red-footed gulls, but we don’t risk it by going paddling in the lagoon.
As we walk back towards the dinghy, the setting sun starts to turn the sand a beautiful pink reminding me of Fakarava.
We manage to drag the dinghy back into the water (much easier with five rather than two) then use the oars to push ourselves into deeper water so that Mike can start the outboard. We only just make it back to the boat before the sun disappears completely.
Having a full water tank means showers without worrying too much about water consumption and hours of motoring means that there is lots of hot water. Lovely.
We have angel hair pasta with chilli and garlic and watch three episodes of ‘Gavin and Stacy’ for our evening’s entertainment.
What a fabulous day to spend with friends. Tomorrow we start to head back slowly towards Mackay. We intend our stop to be Thomas Island, but it depends on the weather.
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