First Sail on Moon Lake

A lot of boat work in the week leading up had mine really keen to get wet.  I'm not satisfied the boat is secure on its trailer,  the lights are working & the light bar quick to remove,  the furler is improved & finally the rowing blocks & cleats are secure.  

As usual,  the decision of where to sail was made on the hop.  I saw Moon Lakes NP, an area Lurgy knows well,  was my ultimate sailing destination. 

Due to holiday traffic returning to Sydney likely causing congestion,  I wended my way along backroads to emerge on the highway just south of our destination.  

At the campground there were two surprises; fewer people than expected & limited access to the water's edge.  In fact,  there was just one boat ramp & it was overgrown over with trees.  Lurgy had to be rowed offshore before standing the mast & seeing sail.  

At the ramp a (water) skier type pulled at Lurgy, "nice little boat" he says.  After I explained that she had known these since the 1970s he "thought he recognised" her.  Another couple walking passed made comment about the "lovely old boat". Then I fell into conversation with a fisho who I let launch ahead of us, he made some reference to the Top Lake being a "bastard of a place" for boaters. I took notes, I was proud to be returning Lurgy to they're she was baptized & spent decades cruising about. 

As we anchored off to set the rig, a blustery seabreeze dragged anchor, but only steadily.  By the time she lightly nudged a muddy bottom twice we were under sail & clawing for searoom.  it was evidently to be no balmy cruise. with blustery winds blustery were on our toes to avoid a dunking. in my haste I'd jammed the furler so I desperately needed to get their of the wind & sort the mess.    About a mile north of the ramp, spilling wind sll the way,  I nudged her ashore.  I was pleased to feel her nestle into a raft of reeds.         Main reefed, furler reset & coffee drunk, we hoisted sail & resumed northwards towards Gusty Bastard Lake.  

Photo: Little white moths on the reeds. 

Going north was lively sailing,   type 2 fun & a way tricky.  We tacked close to shore to gain ground  but sensibly avoided any possible grounding.  if there was one thing plainly obvious,  away from the ramp this place is pretty remote.  good different but potentially bad in a "body of missing sailor found after two day search" way.  Two cost little bays off to port looked enticing,  but were to the lee.  great to explore during winter & offshore breezes.  The land about here was heavily timbered & hilly.  No golden sand beaches,  just steeply shelving banks & not a trail in sight. A place to bring you A game.  

Aside from the potential to become an eagle's lunch, being in this natural wonderland engendered a notable sense of peace. As someone who suffers anxiety in remote & unknown areas (as well as crowded cities), this surprised me.  I questioned whether this sense of ease was also due to Lurgy's pedigree here, or just her manageable proportions.

   Anyway,  But, no time for ruminations,  the wind was funneling between the forested hills & knocking us about.  A few more lively puffs saw all sheets let fly as she heeled crazily & screwed into the wind. In between gusts i rove the headsail sheets to cleats at the windward rail so i could dump wind quickly & without needing to go to the leeward side of the cabin. This proved a lifesaver on a few occasions.  

As we entered Dogleg Bay & went onto port tack we got smashed several times in quick succession.  The second knock was definitely Type 2 Fun, even with the mainsheet free,  the wind locked strong enough to backwind the sail & lock it into place.  Clambering to support myself i could not spare a hand to let fly the headsail sheet.  With the jib & main drawing too, we heeled extra hard as I hit the windward rail hard. At the point when i thought she'd gone, we slipped bodily to leeward,  my hat dropped into the water below us for an added "oh shit" element to the drama. finally I could let fly the jib & Lurgy regained her feet. 

   I pulled the helm to relieve wind pressure,  take a few breathes & look forlornly for my hat.   No luck,  so we kept sailing.   

Strangely emboldened we returned into the wind heating forwards Gusty Bastards Lake.  As we approached a port buoy marking the lake's entrance the hills seemed more precipitous,  the water's surface more heavily ruffled.  At this point, good sense saw us tack around & head toward home.  

We flew off the wind, with the main doing enough work alone to form a wave under the windward quarter.  We were literally running downhill. 

Some time later,  heartrate & breathing somewhere back to normal,  I brought her into the wind & handed sail. As i stowed the sails & tidied ship, readying for the row towards the ramp a speedboat driver asked if i was ok. After giving him the thumbs up & a nod of appreciation we eased back towards the bank.  When our mast snagged in overhead trees i had unkind thoughts of returning with a chainsaw. With assistance freely offered we desnagged the mast & got packing away.    

The last of the direct sunlight left just as we secured ourselves for the drive home.   

   It was a long drive from home to Moon Lake, any future visits would be longer  & preferably during the winter months to avoid traffic ashore & on the water, & enjoy offshore winds. 

Today Lurgy showed herself to be capable & durable,  I am re-falling in love with sailing.  Reducing the stress of towing,  launching & retrieving, while enjoying a lively & comfortable time onboard, seem to be the answers to happy boating.  Adding a fire ashore followed by a dawn awakening after a night's camping sounds like lovely adventure.