Once we’d safely crossed the Wide Bay Bar and entered the Sandy Straits, we spent the next week doing what we enjoy most—slowly hopping our way up the inside of K’gari, [previously known as Fraser Island], finding peaceful, sheltered anchorages along the way.

Thankfully the rain finally moved on for now, leaving behind beautiful winter sunshine. It gave me the perfect opportunity to tackle the mountain of washing, especially everything that had been thoroughly marinated in saltwater during our rather memorable “incident” crossing Mooloolaba Bar. Frank, meanwhile, was in his happy place, working his way through the never-ending list of boat jobs—tweaking the solar panels for maximum output, staining the teak and giving the cockpit a much-needed scrub.

Interestingly, over the past couple of weeks, several warnings have appeared on social media about Mooloolaba Bar. The constantly shifting shoals have made it even more hazardous, especially around low tide, with skippers urged to exercise extreme caution. There were also reminders for surfers, paddle boarders and other water users to give way to vessels entering and leaving the harbour. After our experience, we can certainly appreciate why!

After several idyllic days tucked into Gary’s Anchorage, waking each morning to a chorus of birds and finishing each evening with spectacular sunsets, it was time to head north to Urangan Harbour at Hervey Bay to collect our special crew—our son Paul, daughter-in-law Jenny, and grandchildren Max (10) and Mika (6).

On Friday 26th June we departed on the outgoing tide, hoping for a helpful push through the winding channels of the Sandy Straits. It’s always a strange feeling navigating narrow, shallow channels while surrounded by what appears to be endless water. To make things more interesting, the day was gloomy, punctuated by heavy rain squalls that made spotting channel markers a challenge.

We last came through here in November 2020 on our return from Darwin, but quite a few markers had changed since then.

That became painfully obvious near the northern end of Tooth Island.

Following the recommended small-vessel route, we approached the next red marker just as another torrential downpour arrived. Somewhere between the rain, the murky water and the ever-changing shoals, we wandered just far enough off the narrow channel…

Bump.

Aground.

We managed to wriggle free… only to run aground again while trying to find our way back to the channel.

With the tide steadily falling and our confidence not exactly soaring, we decided discretion was the better part of valour. We retraced our path, anchored safely in five metres just off the channel and waited for the tide to return. Sometimes the smartest navigation tool is simply patience.

Five hours later, around 3 pm, we tried again.

This time I took the helm and followed the GPS track for small vessels as though it had been drawn with a permanent marker. Visibility was dreadful as another line of rain squalls rolled through.

And then…

Bump.

Round three.

This time we were firmly planted on what seemed like an enormous sandbank, frustratingly close to the red marker itself. We could actually see the deeper water, but no amount of engine power would persuade Stars End 2 to move. Eventually we swung the boom out, hoisted the mainsail to heel the boat over, and as the rising tide gifted us another metre of water beneath the keel, she finally slid free at around 3:40 pm.

Needless to say, our faith in both the GPS and ourselves had taken a slight knock. I’m painfully aware that no photos were taken. We were simply too stressed and embarrassed to bother.

Although we still had around 18 nautical miles to reach Hervey Bay, the weather continued to deteriorate, heavy rain reduced visibility, and darkness was approaching. Rather than tempt fate any further, we tucked into a nearby anchorage for the night and decided tomorrow was another day.

At first light we were underway again. Thankfully there were no more unexpected encounters with sandbanks or rain squalls, and by 10 am we were safely tied up in Urangan Harbour. It gave us time to wash bedding, restock supplies and prepare for our arriving family.

Paul drove up from Brisbane towing his aluminum tinny, while Jenny came separately as she’d need to return to work a few days later.

Of course, the weather wasn’t about to make life easy. Twenty-knot south-easterlies greeted their arrival. We’d already left the marina and were anchored outside Urangan Harbour in a rather enthusiastic chop, so once Paul launched the tinny he ferried Jenny, the kids, groceries and enough gear to outfit a small expedition across to Stars End 2.

Dragging Paul’s sizeable tinny behind us would have slowed us considerably, so he and Max raced ahead to Moon Point while we motored across, scouting out the best anchorage.

The first night was a little rolly. The second wasn’t much different. But when you’re sharing it with family, nobody seems to mind too much.

The white sandy beaches around Moon Point were absolutely beautiful and would be magnificent swimming spots in summer. We wandered along the shoreline, explored, watched the kids play for hours and simply enjoyed being together.

Poor Jenny was technically “at work” on Monday, but there are certainly worse offices than the cockpit of a yacht with sunshine, fresh sea air and views across K’gari.

Tuesday brought more rain and blustery weather. Jenny needed to return to Brisbane the following day, so while Paul took her ashore, we moved Stars End 2 further south through the Sandy Straits to the more sheltered anchorage near Kingfisher Bay Resort.

Paul and the children rejoined us later, and the following days were filled with fishing, exploring creeks, beach walks, keeping an eye out for dingoes and simply enjoying life aboard.By Friday, Jenny had driven back to join us again for a few extra days, much to everyone’s delight.

Having family aboard always reminds us why we love this lifestyle. Paul grew up spending almost every family holiday on our yachts, so it was lovely watching him introduce Max and Mika to the same adventures. Paul and Jenny have also joined us on several passages through the South Pacific over the years, and they really embrace the simple pleasures of life afloat.

Six people on a modest 39-foot yacht certainly makes for cosy accommodation! Paul, Jenny and little Mika took over the forward cabin, Frank and I had the aft cabin, while Max happily claimed the saloon berth. Somehow it all worked.

This morning our crew headed home before the forecast wind really arrived.

Their final adventure wasn’t over, though.

The 13-mile tinny ride back to Urangan Harbour turned into a wet and bouncy affair as the south-easterly strengthened. They arrived safely… only to discover someone had stolen one of the trailer tyres while it had been parked.

Seriously?

Fortunately, with Jenny’s car there as backup, Paul made a quick dash to BCF, bought a replacement wheel, fitted it himself, retrieved the tinny and finally headed home.

Just another day in the cruising life.

As for us, we’re now sitting tight while a strong front passes through. There’s no rush. The north isn’t going anywhere, and we’ll continue our journey when the weather decides to be a little more cooperative.