The Labyrinth of Hinchinbrook
31.07.15- Shortly after leaving the leads of Dungeness, we were in the southern- most part of the Hinchinbrook Channel. Protected from the open ocean by a mammoth land mass of mountainous sculptures, this is the real jewel of the area, so close to the mainland (less than a mile) but so untouchable in its awesomeness with wild rugged cliff faces & seemingly impenetrable rainforest jungle. This is sheer crocodile country with murky swamp- like waterways & mysterious creeks running into the never ending labyrinth of mangrove forests.
It was certainly a new experience to be cruising around inside narrow waterways with only a little apprehension over the depth or state of the bottom. These multiple intricate channels have deep sand gutters with mud banks on either side. The mangrove roots twist & contort into the ground like they are hard wired to the centre of the earth. All artistic shapes & gnarly edges they look like living skeletons with lush green manes dripping with dense leaves.
It is no wonder that this place is so popular with fisherman & sailors alike, not to mention hikers for the famous Thorsborne track on the eastern side. There is little sailing while we are in here however, because it is so calm & still mostly. On either side the Cardwell ranges loom on the mainland while Mount Bowen & surrounding smaller brothers & sisters stand majestically on the island.
Our first anchorage: Haycock Island: a stand alone hummock in the middle of the main channel with banks a fair distance away to be spared from the midges. The gentle breeze coming in from the south east is not a match for the tidal current racing through & Paws settles in to a comfortable night after initial confusion over which way to hang. She is not used to being controlled by the tide, only the wind & so it took a little while for her to get used to the unfamiliar feeling. The midges were reasonably polite that first night, easing us in to what was to come.
01.08.15- It puts a new spin on the word exploring when you take the big boat into a little creek, checking the depth sounder frequently, watching the banks slowly creep closer as you progress. Out of the main channel the wind dies to barely a whisper & it is now you feel the enormity of the emptiness, the sheer silence of this world. Only a fraction beneath the surface the water is alive with all sorts of life: fish & crabs & crocodiles, but to look around you would be forgiven for thinking it was long dormant.
Our second anchorage: we called it Rungoo Station Creek as it had no name, but it was on the way to the train station on the mainland. It would be so easy to get lost without navigation equipment! There was a waterfall way off into the distance hanging off the side of the Cardwell range which was more than a little tantalizing & way out of reach.
Of all the magic surrounding us sadly, to go ashore is not to be recommended. Aside from the tricky medium of thick silty mud which would more than likely swallow you up, there are other hazards to contend with, not in the least: crocodiles. For it is here, in this idyllic land & water scape that the living dinosaurs rule. Being untouched by human habitation, they have claimed it as their own & will not give up their paradise for flesh or bone. Of course, we didn’t actually see any giant lizards but thats not to say they weren’t there! Taking no chances we were boat- locked until our next stop at Scraggy point: back in the main channel just 5 nm across from Cardwell. Also, after an easy night at Haycock, the midges weren’t so kind at Rungoo, coming into feed off our juicy new blood by sneaking in though the too big mozzie mesh screens. I think it was one deciding factor to moving out of the narrower creeks- been there, seen that, got the sandfly bites to prove it, thank you.
02.08.15- Scraggy was an exposed point with muddy rubble beach leading into a fresh water creek (dry) & showing off some aboriginal fish traps. The impressive hand built rocky piles were easily identifiable in their circular formations with a shallow inlet to lure fish into. There was a random clearing with picnic facilities & fenced all round (presumably to keep the crocs out) that seemed a little out of place. It was here that we spotted a rather large bird on the beach having a fishing session. It was perfect conditions to row ashore & so at a gentle pace we edged towards this funny looking creature & found him to be quite the exhibitionist, not in the least bit shy of our presence. With white feathers & black wing tips, he had a blue shimmering head & long striding legs. We later identified him as a Jaberoo stork. He had a substantial feed off of the shoreline bait fish swimming within his range. Up & down the beach he strode, until he was nearly too full to fly, & then he took off & soared away in a surprisingly graceful fashion.
The bird life since entering the channel was prolific. Brahminy kites & white breasted sea eagles merely commonplace around these parts. It was clear that the water was also teeming with life but aside from loosing a fair portion of bait off the end of the hook, the fish dinner was proving elusive. Crabs are apparently very fussy in what will lure them into a pot, our poor efforts with old defrosted pilchard heads were not good enough either.
03.08.15- As beautiful & calm as it was, I was eager to leave the channel to find some non-croc infested waters, clear bottom & sandy beaches. Besides, my skin needed a break from bites which were rapidly taking over surface area. It was time to head on out to the top of the island which has its own unique features & gifts to offer. Our journey became a convoy of sisters at Garden Island, off the south west of Gould Isl when Sea Piper came to meet us. Our dear friends Roy & Janet had arrived!
We met Roy & Janet at Breakwater marina back in 2010 when we lived aboard Chimera. They were moored opposite us on B arm. Andi had become pretty good friends with them while I had been away in the UK & when I got back I clearly remember my first encounter with these lovely people. I was in an appalling mood, sweating buckets in the height of summer, having woken from a not too restful post- night shift sleep & there was this soft voice calling to me from across the way “Are you Gemma?”. My initial inner reaction was “Who the f**k wants to know?” & then I saw this friendly face peering at me from over the port bow & there was Janet: all warmth & smiles & thus our friendship was cemented.
Who knows whether it was coincidence or not, but we bought Paws 3 & a half years later, who just happened to be the sister ship of Sea Piper: an Easton catamaran. It has long been a shared aspiration of all of us to go cruising together & here we were anchored together just north of Hinchinbrook!
Garden Island is the epitome of what a tropical island paradise should look like: all crystal blue waters, sloping coral beach & awe inspiring granite boulders that look like they have been dropped from the sky, only to land in scattered piles like giant marbles from the heavens. The landscape is dense & green with leaf littered paths through the bush & a sand spit to satisfy anyone’s desire to feel the grains between the toes. I could have stayed right there for the rest of our cruising career if only it was an all weather anchorage. With the weather forecast to pick up over the next few days we had a very short one night interlude to drink it in & then back into the living maze of the mangroves.
04.08.15- Macushla is the point at which the two contrasting worlds of Hinchinbrook collide. It is the lead in to the convoluted creek systems of Missionary Bay at the north west side of the island. From our anchorage on night five, we could see Cape Richards to the northeast (where the ruined resort is, after Cyclone Yasi), sweeping into an almost 200 degree bay with Mount Bowen as the backdrop in the south. The beach is similar in topography to Garden Isl, then as it continues south it transforms into mangrove territory again. At the end of the winding creeks is just a short distance to the eastern coast & the magnificent Ramsay Bay with its impossibly long curve white sandy beach. The access point to this glorious place is through creek number seven out of eight. They have very original names.
06.08.15- Eager to set out in search of Ramsay, the two dingies were lowered into the water bright & early for a lazy troll into the sandfly lair. They were out in force down here with the mangroves evidently even more fiercely thick in their companionship of one another since Yasi. Despite the enormity of the weather system, the swirling vortex of the 2011 cyclone hit this area in relatively isolated trails of destruction. I don’t doubt that it was ferocious & terrifying for miles & miles, but the resilience & recovery of these trees is impressive. It is a shame that the same cannot be said for Cape Richards Resort that now stands as a sad ghostly reminder of the havoc caused.
Ramsay Bay did not disappoint. What a stunning beach! There was a perfect rocky alcove for us to have a wood fired lunch of baked potatoes & sweetcorn which we ate inside the protection of the forest to avoid being sand blasted by the whipping wind. Why does food taste so much better cooked on a fire?
To work off the meal we trudged north up the beach over the fine squeeky sand. Parts of the coastline had been carved into drifting dunes by Yasi no less & Cape Sandwich proved too far to travel on a deceptive curve where distance was impossible to gauge.
Bellies full & more than contented we headed back to the dingies over the National Park boardwalk which provides the only access from creek seven to Ramsay because the mangroves are so wild & unforgiving. “Puddy Paws” (our dingy) decided that she was enjoying herself far too much tied up to the small jetty in the shade & refused to start. Lucky Roy & Janet were there! A slow but enjoyable tow home called for (more) beers on the back deck with a cracking sunset.
07.08.15- Coral Creek is the only numbered creek that has a name. It is number two in sequence & is imaginatively named for the coral wall bordering the entrance channel. This was to be our next anchorage. I would have gladly left the creeks behind by now, as the need for in water activities was growing stronger by the day & they were all starting to blur into one by now but somehow this last living water snake managed to wow in different ways. Firstly, the entrance was narrow & shallow, we were a mere metre from touching bottom & the coral wall was uncomfortably close. This was enough to wake us up & not allow us to suffer from indifference. The outgoing water streams were causing a confusing pattern on the surface which did not help us to find safe water. Needless to say, we made it through uneventfully but with a strong conviction to depart only on high tide.
08.08.15- Mount Bowen is the highest peak on Hinchinbrook Island. From every angle you can see a different craggy face reaching up into the sky at a little over 1000 metres tall. Coral Creek was undoubtedly the best place to see this magnificent mountain in all its glory.
At day break the water was as still as a lake in a vacuum. It was a perfect mirror as the sun came up behind the mountain & gave us a show of lights. There’s nothing like waking up on the water every day! It is in these moments that I can become so humbled by how nature somehow manages to take my breathe away time & again just to remind me I’m alive. How does she do it?!
09.08.15- We had one last beautiful night anchored at Macushla after a non eventful bar crossing out of Coral Creek.
Coming full circle I was reluctant to leave this magical place behind. Despite having more bites than skin from the relentlessly intrusive & ever persistent midges, and being even more scared of crocs now having not seen any yet still, I know we will most definately be back & I am positive that Hinchinbrook with provide us with even more wonderous delights on our return.
But for now, onwards to Dunk Island!!!
Sailing Adventures on Paws 
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful photos and description. So nice to see Roy and Janet, give them my best. I think the ” Reflections ” photo of ” Paws ” is stunning. Wins any competition in my book. Trying to print it up but printer not behaving itself. Love you both loads and loads, stay safe from the midges and crocs. Dad. XXX
Wonderful photos and evocative writing: its a pleasure to read this Gemma. Love to you both x
Super writing Gem – we loved hanging out with you. You may, or may not, have heard the news that the Hinchinbrook Island resort at Cape Richards was set on fire yesterday morning (Friday 14th), destroying what remained of the main building and several of the nearby tree-houses. It’s now cordoned off as a crime scene! Made us wonder if the same arsonist had done the damage at Garden Island? Maybe you could see the black smoke from Dunk?
Fishing’s good here in the Channel and there is a resident croc who suns himself on the mud bank opposite us each day. Ooooo!
xx Sea Piper
PS `Hi and best wishes’ right back at you Vern.
i cant believe the resort’s been torched! thats crazy. my dad said hi too. miss you guys xx