For any sailor the thought of being in the ocean with the wind blowing at 50 knots plus is a frightening thought. It was at the top of my list anyway, that’s for sure. I had never experienced wind strengths that ferocious and didn't think it would happen to me. We always said that with weather forecasting these days and being diligent, you will never need to experience these circumstances as you can plan ahead. Our tactic was always, if there is a storm there, don't be there. Simple right... Well, that is all good in theory. I used to think along those lines and boy did I have a lot to learn.

Before heading offshore for the first time, we felt that we were competent sailors, still had a lot to learn but competent. We had dealt with 30 knots on multiple occasions, sailed in big swell and stormy conditions and thought we were ready to try our first open ocean passage crossing the Coral Sea. We had our predetermined technique in the rare case we would have crazy strong winds where we would, reduce sail to nearly nothing and run off down wind. As Nandji is a full keel vessel and has a heavy displacement, I was confident this technique was our "go to" way of dealing with weather.
 
Confidence and stubbornness goes a long way for my attitude. When I have my goals and thoughts set out on achieving something, I knuckle down and push to achieve that goal. I’m not sure if that is confidence  backing myself to succeed, or stubbornness as the thought consumes me and I won't let it go until I have completed what I wanted to achieve. It’s probably a bit of both.

Before our grand departure leaving the Gold Coast seaway, we had spent months in preparing the vessel to be blue water ready. We did all the work ourselves from installing AIS, wind monitors and even changing the rigging ourselves. We did this mainly because we were on a very strict budget, but also as I wanted to learn more about the boat and be competent in handling and fixing her ourselves. All this work however took much longer than expected of course and continually delayed our departure. On our shake down sail to the Gold Coast, we had gearbox dramas. Towed into port  we replaced the gearbox, cutlass bearing, slapped on the anti-foul and finally thought Nandji was ready for her big departure. All this work meant we had spent very little time sailing over the 6 months prior to leaving and had not given all the new equipment and toys on Nandji a good test run. I was confident though that I had done everything correct and was stubborn enough to believe it.

Sailing from Australia to New Caledonia is a difficult sail as you are attempting 800nm against the trade wind. Because of this you need to pick your times and weather window to make the crossing. You rely on a low to bring Westerly winds and then sail either in front or on the back of that low and utilise the Westerly wind for as many days as you can before the inevitable South East trade wind slaps you in the face. After completing all the work to Nandji, a low was predicted in only a few days’ time. We tried hard to be ready for the expected Westerlies but unfortunately were not ready to leave. Not wanting to rush ourselves and make sure we had all our ducks in a row before attempting our first ocean crossing. A week later another low was forecasted and we decided this was our time to shine.

After experiencing the storm from the previous low at anchor, we noticed the winds didn't get very strong. This predicted low looked to be similar strengths and we thought it was perfect for our departure. We would leave on the back end of the low with the winds and set out to sea on our way to New Caledonia. We watched the system intensely on the lead up and the day we had planned to depart, things looked a little too rowdy. After conversing with a few other yachties in the anchorage, we decided to wait another day and let the winds ease. As the sun rose on the following day, the winds were still strong and we thought we would wait one more day, as hard as it was as we were eager to get sailing and begin our passage. On the third morning we decided that today was the day and set off down to the marina to clear out of the country.

The wind was blowing 25 knots in the marina but as the excitement was high, we would be fine. It would be a bit of a rough ride to start, but we would fly out to sea with ease and then things will calm down after. Chatting with the customs officers, they explained if we wanted to return because the weather was too bad, it is not a problem. Just turn around and call us once you’re at anchor again. Checking the weather once more before departure, it appeared we were in the middle of the low and thought things could not get any worse than their current conditions and thought, she will be right. Oh, those famous last words of an Australian right there...

All the formalities were completed by 9am and we were out of the seaway not long after. Under a full headsail and 20 to 25 knots up the rear, we flew out to sea with our PDF's, harness and smiles all firmly positioned. At Around 5pm in the afternoon we were 40nm offshore and were enjoying the ride. The sea had grew gradually to 1-2m, but that was to be expected since we were so far away from land with an offshore breeze. We had not noticed a change in the sky or the wind strengths, but reefed down the headsail as our first night was creeping upon us. We were organising ourselves for our night watches when the news came over the radio of a predicted strong weather warning.

I quickly dug out the computer and loaded a weather forecast for the next 12 hours. The ugly sight of red filled my computer screen as far as the eye and screen stretched. For those that do not understand the colour coding of weather in most programs and forecasting apps, You don't ever see red as a good happy gentle friendly colour. That is reserved for the likes of Blue, Green and sometimes Purple. Red, you are in for a ride.

As soon as the forecast told us something was coming, we felt the increase in wind strength. We battened down the hatches so to say, reduced sail to only 30% of the head sail and let the autopilot do its thing running with the wind. We do not have a storm jib and use the furling headsail to reduce the amount of sail we carry. After an hour the wind had increased to gale strengths of 35 knots and the autopilot had decided it was too much. It did not only get overpowered but burnt out altogether and back then we did not have a self-steering wind-vane like we do now. The sun had set and it was now pitch black as the wind showed no remorse and continued to increase. The newly installed rigging started the high pitch whistle of air rushing through it at furious speeds. We could not see the state of the ocean but you could feel that the waves had increased as they started to pick Nandji up and we surfed down the face. Reaching speeds up to 10 knots, we needed to reduce sail even further. 

Furling in the headsail so that the smallest slither, a 1m square triangle, roughly 5% of the sail remained. It was around this time we realised that we were in for a ride. With every gust, the whistle in the rigging became louder and the wind odometer read a slightly higher reading then the last. By 8pm, we had gusts over 43 knots but it continued to feel that she was not done yet. We continued running off downwind as Bonita huddled in the companion way trying to hide from the onslaught, whilst I stood behind the wheel swinging it side to side as we ran off with the wind and waves. My eyes fixated on the compass to keep us on course and hoping my skills as a rigger would keep the mast upright.

As if the stress levels were not on edge enough, the AIS gave us a warning we were on a collision course with a tanker heading south. Over the radio the ship made contact with us. We think since Nandji is a Hindu word meaning "joy", the Indian voice on the other end was very eager to speak to us. Bonita advised we were experiencing strong winds and do not wish to deviate off course and requested to pass in front of his bow. Much obliged the tanker said no worries, slowed their speed and changed course to pass behind Nandji. The new AIS Just paid for itself we thought.

By 9pm it sounded and felt like the Bimini was going to be ripped off as the material vibrated in the relentless increasing wind. The gusts continued to gain in strength and we were now in a force 10 blow, reading a sustained wind of 50 knots. "What have I got us into" I thought to myself. But by this time, any fear and worry I had was out the window as there was nothing else that could be done but deal with it myself. There is no one else to rely on when you are at sea, it all rests on the captains shoulders. This is what I wanted and this is what I had dealt to me. It was time to deal with the situation and steer us through it. I had made the decision to leave land when we did and I was going to get us through this. I felt confident in controlling the vessel and Nandji felt good in the conditions. It was the noise that really threw my attention and kept me on high alert. Everything was screaming at us. With each gust a new noise would yell something obscene at you. With nothing more Bonita could do but try to hide from the wind, hold on and block her ears. I sent her down stairs to try hide and relax, as once this was all done she would have to take watch whilst I rested.

By 10pm the wind still showed no signs of letting up and after reading a sustained wind speed of 54.7 knots on the odometer, I turned it off in disgust. What’s another couple of knots when it is already storm strength. It did feel however that the gusts had stopped increasing in strength. They had definitely not subsided as every couple of minutes another gust would scream into your back to remind you what your situation is. For the next 5 hours I stood wrestling the wheel battling to keep Nandji in a straight line. I could feel the swell growing in size as Nandji's bow rose for seconds at a time as the swell raced underneath us. At around 3am in the morning after 8 solid hours of hand steering and staring at the compass, the weird shapes and imaginary objects begun appearing. Fatigue was beginning to overwhelm me. Battling the conditions and now sleep, it all got the better of me as I did not correct Nandji in time and were spun around 180 degrees. Now with the bow pointing into the waves and the small amount of headsail holding us in a hove to like angle, I sat for a couple of minutes nervously evaluating if we stay like this or continue on. Anxious, as it was pitch black and I had no sight of the sea conditions, I opted to spin Nandji around once again and continue running with the wind and waves. The sun would be up in only a couple of hours and for some reason that made me feel better, like the sun would tell old mate 50 knots that enough is enough. 

At around 4am the wind begun easing and by 5am as the sun started to rise, the wind had dropped back below 40 knots. As light shone onto the surrounding ocean it revealed a tremendous swell running with 8 metre seas. Nandji would be sitting on top of the giant waves and then disappear into the lull. I would watch as these mountains of water taller than our mast, bare down on Nandji from behind and ever so gently lift us towards the sky as the swell rolled through. I was kind of glad that I could not see the size of the ocean all night as my now weary senses became heightened once more looking at the sheer size of the waves. 

By 6am the boat had slowed to 4 knots with the amount of sail we were carrying. In the 35 knot winds I unfurled a little more sail as the high boat speed we had been doing all night felt much more comfortable then the rolly 4 knots. With 20% of headsail out, it felt like we were flying once again and I settled into the couch, hand steering happily watching the sun rise. After the strength of wind, the vibration of everything and the constant noise yelling at you saying, what are you doing here? sailing in the easing 35 knots felt like a walk in the park. The swell was massive but it was only the appearance that made you worry. Still not having slept all night, I decided the best option was just to look forward and monitor the compass as the boat felt good and comfortable. When I would look back is when things got exciting again!

At around 7 am the wind had levelled off at a now comfortable 30 knots. It is funny that I say comfortable 30 knots. It seriously felt like nothing as the boat was no longer screaming. Nandji just cruised on unfazed by what she had just endured. Bonita's weary head appeared in the companion way ready to release me from my duties. After first adjusting to the instant wholly sh*t look at the size of the sea, she contently vomited yesterdays dinner up on the deck. With a quick swish of water in the mouth, said well done Yosh and then stood behind the wheel to begin her shift hand steering. Just as I thought I was about to go pass out on the newly made bed on the floor, the fishing line started fizzing and I reeled in a Mahi Mahi. A nice end to a gruelling night and an experience I do not wish to repeat any time soon, but hey, that is sailing. Full of surprises and more experience gained. Yew!

Check out the vid from our first crossing when it all went down! We did not film much of the above story as you can imagine, we were a little occupied. 

On Nandji, we recently decided that we wanted to share our experiences with others and take on crew. We have been away from Australia and our friends and family for a long time. Come Christmas, I would have been away for over 18 months. Because of this, we wanted to try and make new friends and invite people on board Nandji to travel with and to generally just enjoy life on the ocean.
We first reached out to our audience and surprisingly we were inundated in a positive way with people that wished to come sailing! We thought, how exciting! From the hundreds that wrote in, we picked a young lad reasonably early on. He was open for an adventure, had time and was more than willing to make the effort to travel 30 hours in transit to reach our vessel. We thought, how amazing is this. We had a great time with Juzzy on board and after 3 weeks he decided it was time for him to return back to Australia. This experience left us smiling and we felt good about doing this more often.
Lets try this again, we thought. After reaching out to our audience and many people sharing their expressions of interest we spoke to 5 different people. All of which in one way or another, fell through. It turns out we must have just lucked out with Juzzy! We understood though that we were maybe looking for someone in too short a time line as we were expecting someone to basically just drop everything and come sailing. We know this is a big question and commitment to put on someones shoulders, therefore decided we needed a different approach. As much as we wanted to have someone from our following on board, we decided to seek other ways of finding crew.
We joined an an outline crew finding website where people sign up as either boat owners looking for crew, or as crew members looking for a boat. I thought for sure, this is a great idea and I wish I knew of these sites before I bought Nandji. After conversing with over 10 people, finally we had 

For all of you that are not up to speed with the adventures on board Nandji, I recommend a little viewing of this episode a few months back where in the Santa Cruz islands of the Solomons we ran into a little mischief. To cut a long story short and give you a quick run down on these events, we had to hustle with the police.

We were enroute from Vanuatu to Honiara on a tight schedule as Marley was arriving in 3 weeks time. Usually you would think this being ample amounts of time to sail the 1000nm to greet the little guy at the airport, but of course things do not always go to plan...

We left Santo island of Vanuatu with a good breeze and we had our ups and downs along the way, but arrived to the Santa Cruz islands, the most eastern group of islands in the Solomons, in expected time and happy to check into a new country. These islands are very remote and how I have previously explained about the cities of the Solomons taking a step back in time compared to the western world, well the Santa Cruz islands were just getting up to speed with 2G phone service and money as a commodity. After anchoring Nandji and going through all the formalities of entering a new country, we went to leave with a forecast of zero wind for days, only to discover that along the journey from Vanuatu we had a diesel leak from the freshly installed fuel injection pump that was fixed in Port Vila. The mechanic had threaded a connection and we had a leak that was not gushing, but enough to lose our precious diesel into the bilge. Of course I fixed the bilge pumps in Port Vila so the float switch was operating exactly how it should and pumping all this diesel out of the bilge without us even knowing until we wanted to leave the Santa Cruz islands... Down to our last 50 litres of diesel with a forecast of 0 knots of wind for days and 500nm left to sail in under two weeks, the odds were stacked against us. That was until we thought about our situation and what have we got that someone here might want. Of course we instantly thought of booze.

This light bulb went off as when we had the customs and police and friends and another person who had never been on a yacht before, come inspect Nandji for our clearance into the Solomons, we could see the eyes light up and glisten upon spying our duty free booze from Vanuatu. So when we were stuck with no diesel, we quickly came to the conclusion of booze for diesel.

Heading back to the cop shop where I went and spoke to the helpful and nice head of police on the island that we had no diesel and some booze to sell to get diesel. He got on the phone and within ten minutes we had a crowd of prison wardens and police officers gathered around whilst I auctioned off two bottles of spirits. Quickly learning that it was not me that needed diesel as much as these guys wanted some Captain Morgans, we ended up with a good solid trade of two bottles of booze for another 55 odd litres of diesel. Combine that together with the 50 litres still in Nandji, we should have enough diesel to motor 200nm if needed. So in the back of the paddy wagon we went as the two police officers happily sang "we are police officers" as they escorted us down to our tender with the diesel and waited upon their delivery of Captain Morgan.

So that was in  the Santa Cruz islands, now we are in the Western Province of the Solomon Islands, a good 600 or 700nm west of the Santa Cruz islands in the town of Gizo. This place used to be a port of entry and the city is the main tourist hub for the Solomons, if you could say a tourist hub as we are basically the only white people walking around town. But we went waltzing around town looking for the customs office and the immigration office. We had heard months ago that the immigration officer in Gizo had passed away and to check in or out of the country in Gizo you had to pay $600 Solomon Dollars (approx. 100 AUD) for the immigration officer to travel from Noro, 30nm away. However it had been months and we understand how island time works but we were hoping that maybe after three months it was possible a new immigration officer had been posted in Noro.

Walking around town we discovered the customs building up stairs of a dodgy building where you would never expect to find a government official building, but that is the Solomon way. Not getting any hints or guidance to where the immigration office is located, we walked into the friendly police station to ask where abouts and if there was a new immigration officer in town. After some talks in Pidgeon English, which I am understanding quite well but unfortunately not talking, they officers debated weather there was or not a immigration guy in town. Deciding it best that they take us to the old building as there was talk there could be a new guy around. So in the back of the paddy wagon we go once again, we drive the mammoth 70 metres down the road and around the corner to the old run down building that resembles a kids cubby house more than an official government building. But once again, we are in the Solomons. Expect the unexpected or do not expect anything at all is the best way to go about things. Smile and enjoy the ride!

Climbing out of the paddy wagon, we are shown the office and sure enough we discover a young man who renewed our visa a couple of months back in Noro taking up residence. He explained that he had just arrived and was organising the office and he would be here for the next few days whilst he "set up the office" 

Happy days for us as we have finally been given approval from the PNG authorities that our visa is almost approved, kind of. But that is another story in itself. Thanks Mister Police man, you guys have been a real help for our time in the Solomons

Lets get down to it, I haven't written a blog for a while... Well, about a year actually... Of course I could go on about how it's not my fault and I have been to busy, but that would be a load of crap. I just actually haven't got around to it. However, now since we have been sitting dormant at anchor for the past two weeks and the monotony of waiting upon visas and communicating with officials from foreign countries is basically doing my head in, I thought it the perfect opportunity to tell a little tale.

To describe where we are anchored, it is in a long skinny bay around 1km wide between the city and the island of Gizo on one side. The side we are anchored on is next to a island called Logha island where there is only a small church. The rest of the island is forrest. Nandji sits about 70m off this island.

Yesterday afternoon, we had been preparing a roast vegetable feast for dinner and spent the afternoon cutting, chopping and generally preparing for this event. All food scraps are ditched over the side to prevent green waste from being on the boat and the general infestation of bugs from the neighbouring island mangroves that enjoy this waste the following day. Therefore, it all goes over the side like we are at sea. With the veges in the oven roasting away, a quick game of uno as the sun went down, then we retired to the aft cabin for an episode of Breaking Bad. A tv series we have watched about 10 times now as we have broken our hard drives and have nothing else to watch. Whilst lying there watching our series, we consume a lot of cold water as around this time when the sun has disappeared, 80% of the time the weather gets that sticky and uncomfortable Bonita and I crowd under our one fan, trying to appreciate its small breeze. The copious amounts of cold water is to help stay hydrated as we sweat as much water out as we are trying to put back in. Bonita had reached her maximum capacity though and needed to go visit the head. Upon opening the door in the dark, she flicked the light on to be greeted with a stow away!

Me, lying in bed enjoying the maximum output of the fan, heard a horrific girl scream. The type of high pitched scream that would resemble a teenage girl on a roller coaster. I rolled from my position and asked what the problem was... A mouse! Yep, a little rodent had somehow made its way onto Nandji. Since we are at anchor and not attached to land, we pondered for ages on how this little bastard got on board and started to brainstorm how we would get it out! Since it was a Saturday evening, the idea of purchasing a mouse trap was out of the question. You see, the Solomons are beautiful and we are loving our time spent here, however when it comes to purchasing items that are readily at your disposal in the western world eg. mouse trap, this is not the case here. The chance of having a store open on Sunday is slim, but then to find such an item. Well, lets say we have more hope of Nandji sailing at 15 knots... Therefore, the conundrum of how long are we going to have this stow away and how are we going to get rid of it!

I created a trap out of a plastic bottle, where I cut of the top of the bottle, turned it upside down and taped it back in. Then placing peanut butter on the rim to entice the rodent in. The mouse then jumps into the upside down bottle top, slips on the sides, falls in the hole and ends up in the plastic bottle... Genius. I placed this trap in the head area and went back to our series of Breaking bad and patiently waited. Listening to the rustle of the mouse in the neighbouring area, our patience was getting thin as Bonita continually explained how the mouse was going to eat the wiring and chew through the walls.

An episode finished and returning to inspect the trap, i realised that I was dreaming if I thought the mouse was going to fall into the bottle. Maybe if the trap was a larger scale it would work. Thinking for a bit, another light bulb went off inside my head. I fetched the 20 litre bucket from up stairs. Filled the bucket a quarter full with salt water, then made a lid out of paper. I taped the paper to the rim of the bucket, creating the illusion of a lovely solid white surface built for a mouse to wander over and eat the big scoop of peanut butter in the middle that the lovely folks of this house provided... Little did ole mousey know that Captain Yosh had cut this paper in a big cross and the peanut butter was the glue to hold the flaps from falling down. Convinced I was a mouse catching machine I returned to bed for another episode.

We lie there in bed listening to this little bastard scurrying around and trying to find an exit from the head. Lucky we can close this area and bilge off to the rest of Nandji, confining the mouse to the head only. We finished another episode and checked the trap, only to be greeted with two big eyes looking back, unafraid and knowing he is to quick for me to grab. I shut the door once more and thought, Marley, it is your time to shine. You are a trained killer and bred to hunt. You will get the rodent. 

After ten minutes of dragging Marley out of his bed, we pushed him into the head compartment right in front of the mouse. The mouse hid behind my spearguns (yes, my spearguns live in the shower) and Marley paid no attention, turned around and looked at us like, what am I doing in here at this hour of the night... Thanks for the help Marley as he waltzed back to bed.

It was up to us and this trap. We closed the door once more and returned to bed. I nodded off only to be awaken constantly by the sharp ears of Bonita listening to the mouse move. Getting frustrated at the mouse and the continuous noise this little bastard was making, I tried to relax and convince Bonita the same and try to get some sleep. The trap will work.

Roughly an hour later, Bonita was still wide awake studying the noises of this rodent moving around. Then she announced "It sounds wet!" We jumped out of bed with excitement and went to investigate, inside the bucket, swimming in circles was the mouse! YEW! 

We do not know how he got on board, but the cunning little guy found a way. We are very happy to find him quickly and release him back on land the following day before he was able to invite his friends and find a girlfriend to move in. In the rodents short time on board Nandji, he managed to chew the wood on the bottom of the door in his attempts to escape the head. We then spent the next two hours ensuring the boat was sparkling clean and not a crumb lying around as a mouse is not a visitor we want to have.

I wrote a book…
 
Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine writing ten thousand words stringed together in order to make sense. That figure just astounds me. I remember during my schooling years of struggling to write essays that were five hundred words. Then when I moved onto university, I remember seeing thesis with minimum requirements of ten thousand words… Your dreaming I thought. How could anyone write that many words about the same thing? Probably the reason why I failed I guess.
 
But fast forward a few years and find a topic that I am passionate about, or a story I want to tell, then look out. Strangely I have found writing to be very enjoyable. This is something I did not ever think to be possible. Maybe I have become wiser… Or maybe it is the fact that no one will listen to my dribble since I now spend much more time separated from friends and family. Because I do like to talk and I especially enjoy conversations about nothing. General clag that comes out of your mouth meaning nothing of importance. I am good at dribbling too…
 
So apart from missing my friends and talking rubbish, I actually enjoy writing. Now that I have found sailing, I have found that topic I am passionate about.
 
This ebook “How to not, buy a Yacht” is my first and it will not be my last. I have already begun the stages of creating a follow up book which I am extremely excited about. I now understand why my mum would say, “there just aren’t enough hours in a day…”
 
Juggling all the tasks we have mounted in front of us in our preparation, I have decided to write another book. Just to add to the pressure. I have no doubt that it will not be ready in the next couple months, but it is something to look forward to. In the meantime, if you have not already got a copy of my ebook, then I suggest you do so right now!
 
Thanks!

Lets learn a thing or two...
 
With our goals firmly set of taking part in the Down Under Go East rally this year, sailing from the Gold Coast to New Caledonia, we felt that we should try to learn as much knowledge as we can about sailing offshore.
 
The challenges of the great unknown I think are the biggest cause of fear in attempting to sail across oceans. The force of nature is unforgiving to us tiny little specimens and the ocean can be a relentless beast at times. The more we learn and the more preparation we put into our planning, will only be beneficial to us when we attempt to achieve our goals. Of course we do not plan to sail into a storm, but we all know how quickly the weather can change. A squall could blow in, it may only last for 20 minutes, but during those 20 minutes, so many things could happen.
 
We have been meeting with other experienced sailors that have previously taken these challenges upon themselves. By listening to their stories and experiences, we have already gained priceless information. You can never know enough I reckon and because of all these factors, we have decided to join an offshore cruising course run by the ICA (Island Cruising Association). The instructors of the course are 20-year veterans of cruising, therefore should be able to share some wisdom with us novices.
 
The course runs through topics from Rigging, Sails, Provisioning and Money, through to what I am curious about; search and rescue, emergencies at sea, heavy weather planning and fixing things at sea. I am sure we will look at extended cruising in a different way after jamming our brains with information.
 
What is really of interest for me in this course, is listening to other peoples experiences during heavy weather. Storms and big seas is what everyone fears and I know at some stage, we will have to endure this. It is exciting and terrifying at the same time. With this in mind, I want to listen and soak up other people’s adventures and learn different techniques to deal with situations. I have my plan and ideas of what I think we will do, but it will be interesting comparing my ideas to the way others have reacted when in similar circumstances.
 
We will meet other fellow yacthies, who plan to sail east as part of the rally with us to New Caledonia. I am looking forward to building a relationship with these guys as we plan our adventures. We have set a mammoth task in front of us to be prepared for this voyage in May, but step-by-step we work through the list and this weekend will be a big tick off that list. Exciting times ahead!

To learn more about these courses and the Go East Rally that we will be participating in, follow these links!

www.islandcruising.co.nz
www.downunderrally.com/courses-for-cruisers 
​

​Facebook is handy sometimes in reminding you about those hell times you had in the past. I have not told this story for a while and it was slowly turning into a lovely memory that I no longer shared. Then facebook pops up with this picture...

All the memories came flooding back haha. SO here is a story that happened two years ago during our time living in Exmouth, WA.

It was one of those days on the west, a rare day like this for that time of the year. Where the wind was no where to be seen and the sun was shining. The sun is always shining in the west though, but the fact there was no wind is an occurance that is quite uncommon that time of the year as the trade winds are constantly blowing.

We were living in our bus froth at the time at the lighthouse caravan park. The young salty Bailey showed up bright and early to take us out in his 4.5m tinny. We had previously planned to head for a dive and a little fish on the outside of gnarloo reef. Hopefully catching a macky or two. My eyes lit up when he delivered the question of
"Wanna catch a Marlin..." Silly question sir.

With the boat in the water we started heading out the channel to the outside of the reef. We made our way out to the water depth of 200m to 300m. Set our lures and begun trawling around. The little tinny rolled over the swell lines as we putted along waiting for that magic noise of the reels fizzing.

With the marine radio getting active with other boats hooking onto fish, we knew it was only a matter of time before we were on. We patiently motored along listening to the hoots and screams over the radio when we nearly ran over a sailfish that was sunning itself on the surface. We cut a few laps oin the area hoping for a hook up, but it was long gone. We continued on in our patch, working the contour line on the charts around 300m deep. Dolphins came and went and the beers were starting to taste good. The sun remained relentless and the day was hot and dead calm.

After a few hours and still no hook up, all the hooting on the radio got us a little frustrated. The skipper asked a quick question on the radio,

"What water depth are you working?"

A quick response of "900m" was announced. We looked at each other briefly and both exclaimed, "I'm keen"

We picked up our lines and headed out to sea in The little 4.5m tinny. The land dissappeared on the horizon and game fishing boats appeared in front of us. The lines went straight back in the water and with a sense of over excitement, we begun trawling once more.

The skipper stood up on the stern to 'drain the lizard' as they say, when as I was watching the lures a stomping blue marlin appeared right on the stern and took the lure. "OOOOh shit, we are on"

The skipper tried his hardest to keep his bal;ance and not fall into the drink, whilst tuckinng junior away. The reel fizzed and fizzed and we knew we were onto something bbig! The mad rush of getting the other three lines in and out the way before the fish took all the line that remained on the reel.

The fish launched out of the water twice, giving us an amazing spectacle. Trying to get everything away and the harness out, all at the same time, we were ready for the challenge that lied ahead.

Pump and wind, pump and wind. The challenge was on. I managed to gain three quarters of the line back onto the reel when the line was hanging straight down. The fish must have dove deep. We had to try to raise him by driving the boat forward. All that line I gained, went fizzing back off the reel as we motored along trying to raise him from the depths.

Pump and wind, pump and wind. Motor forward and let the reel fizz.

Pump and wind, pump and wind... After an hour went by we could make out the beast through the sparkling clear water. My arms were burning, my legs were burning, but my smile was cheek to cheek. Bonita did her best at hydrating me by pouring water down my open mouth and dipping my hat into the ocean to help keep me cool. 'Nearly there' I thought as i went into battle mode once more.

Throughout the battle a well known charter boat continued to make passes of our vessel and offered to take some photos once we had the fish on the trace.

The next 20 minutes was a game of cat and mouse, trying to get the fish next to the boat so we could remove the hook and let him go. Mission success. We got a few photos taken and proceeded to swim the beast as to keep the water moving through his gills.

Holding firmly onto the bill of the 150kg Blue Marlin, we slowly cruised along. I wasnt sure as to know when to let him go and watch him swim off when the skipper exclaimed to put my fingers into his mouth. The 150kg marlin chomped down with such a force i was glad i had gloves on! "Yep, think he is ready"

I let go of the marlin and Bonita and I jumped overboard with him. We watched as he gracefully glided away into the depths, disappearing into the deep blue 30m down.

Climbing back in with cheek to cheek smiles, some of the biggest high fives and man hugs went down. A quick frothy in celebration and the skipper was barking orders once more to get all the lines in the water once again.

Twenty minutes later, that noise of the reel fizzing begun ance again. "Yeeew" We holored, ready for round two. The skipper was telling me to get a hold of the rod but i was too tired from my previous 80 minute battle, "its your turn captain"

Thirty minutes later we had a second Blue Marlin on the trace and swimming next to the boat. This time a 120kg fish. Both extatic about our catches, we took our time in having a frothie this time around. Now getting late in the day, we decided we had better take the tinny closer to land, just in case the wind blew up.

Back at the boat ramp, waiting in line, some other fisherman in their 7m centre console 100k boat, sparked a conversation about the days fishing.

"We did pretty good, two from two" I said when asked. "How about you?"
"SAme, two from two."
"How big?" Bailey, the captain of the tinny asked.
"About 80kg & 100kg, how about you?"
"150kg and 120kg" pronounced Bailey.
"Really" the richer fisherman exclaimed. "How deep a water, 100m?"
"Na mate" The captain replied, "900m" he said as he turned and walked up to the carpark to retrieve the car.

The story does not end there though. The professional charter boat that took this photo, also writes an article for blue water fishing magazine. A world wide fishing book renown for bill big bill fish. This photo was in that magazine!

​Yew!