Cruising Log—12...Port Clinton

Leanne was quickly into the fishing, as Port Clinton has a big reputation. Off the back of the boat she reeled in two Red-banded Grubfish, two Whiptails and two Toadfish, sadly nothing edible. So it was off to “Warneta” for afternoon tea of freshly baked pineapple upside-down cake.

Next day Leanne redeemed herself by landing a good-sized Queensland School Mackerel from the back of Masala, using the Grubfish as bait. She continues to confound the critics, catching her fish at the wrong time of day on the wrong tide and using inappropriate methods (e.g. Mackeral normally go for trolled lures). Just to prove it wasn’t a fluke and to confound the experts further, she repeated the dose the following day. So far, the “Schoolie” is our favourite eating fish.

We took the dinghy and explored the two closest beaches around the base of Mt Flinders. The first was of coarse yellow sand dotted with intricately sculpted rock outcrops. The second was of sugar-fine white sand, and dotted with mangroves. We were struck by their diversity and serene beauty.

From our log: “The harbour is ringed with distant serried peaks, this morning mysteriously wreathed in sea mist. Turtles abound, fearless, often surfacing close to the boat, scaring the occupants with their loud outgoing breath. They are very large, probably Green Turtles, and are in amazing numbers. Also lots of big stingrays in the shallows, and at times boiling schools of pelagic fish chasing the littlies. A great place. But no swimming.”

“Warneta” followed up the pineapple cake with an invitation to dinner the next night. What a surprise, Dave and Karen had prepared a feast! Entrée was freshly caught mud crab seafood cocktail, followed by a main of roast turkey with all the accompaniments. A fresh apple and pineapple crumble appeared for desert. What can we say, except “Thanks, guys!!!”

After a long game of Pictionary (which we lost) and lots of laughs, it was time to return to Masala. Only there were a few problems. It was late, pitch black, a strong current was running as usual but at least Masala was downstream, and we forgot to bring a torch.

We piled into the dinghy and cast off. The humidity and condensation were such that the outboard simply would not start. We drifted through the black night while I pulled and pulled on the starting cord with no luck. Eventually Leanne grabbed the oars and started rowing furiously in the direction of the dark looming shape that was Masala. At this point we heard several loud splashes, like something big and heavy leaping from the water. We were terrified.

Masala loomed out of the dark but the current was so strong it swept us past before we could grab hold. Leanne turned the dinghy and tried to row back but couldn’t make any progress. We quickly swapped positions and I started rowing furiously. The thought of being swept into the dark and forbidding upper reaches of the mangrove-infested harbour gave me strength to make the Oarsome Foursome look like amateurs. As the dinghy crabbed up to the stern, Leanne reached out and grabbed one of the davit ropes, and we were safe.

In the morning, Dave and Karen were relieved to see that our dinghy was hanging from the back of the boat. Then they knew we’d actually made it, as it was too dark for them to know what was happening, other than that we couldn’t start the motor. It wasn’t until later that we found out that the terrifying splashes that we had assumed were crocodiles coming to get us were in fact caused by Dave. He had noticed lots of phosphorescence in the water, so he’d been standing on the back of “Warneta” throwing buckets of seawater overboard to make it glow. Dave!!!!!!!!!