That said, fortuitous gaps in the weather blessed us, but it started to sprinkle on the return trip. Then, as we emerged from the mangrove, we were hit by a front of strong headwind and driving rain that we had to push into for the short distance back to our boats. All returned safely, except for one couple who had bright, shiny Kevlar kayaks, which made them very light. Why is this relevant? Because one of the pair (the lady) let go of her kayak after stepping onto the transom of that lady’s catamaran. Her kayak was then blown by the driving wind and rain into the the kayak (the poor, struggling husband). With one hand holding his wife’s renegade kayak and the other uselessly holding his paddle, the smashing of both craft onto the oyster-laden rocks appeared inevitable.

Enter the heroes of the story, namely Nigel and Julie, who had much more sensible watercraft and were able to retrieve said husband and kayaks from the water and return them to their catamaran. Having been rescued, the first kayak was retrieved from its storage location on the catamaran. This was done by tying a string to the kayak, lifting it over the sunbed, and securing it to the roof of the cockpit. The second kayak was to be retrieved in the same manner, except that halfway up, the string broke, and the kayak fell back into the water. It was immediately blown downwind by the still-strong winds and rain towards those same oyster-laden rocky shorelines (which had not moved since the previous debacle). What to do? Both were standing on the catamaran, mouths open, staring in disbelief as the driving rain drenched them. At this stage, a few unkind words passed between the couple.

Calls to Boree Creek for assistance were either not heard or ignored, so a decision was made to lower the tender and chase the kayak with a view to intercepting it before it smashed into the rocks. The kayak was gratefully caught in time; however, the comedy of errors continued because one of the couple had overlooked putting the bung for the tender back into the drain outlet. There were no harsh words said this time, only shaking heads, disapproving looks, silence and a discreet keeping of one’s distance until the storm had settled. And I don’t mean the weather.

The next day’s activities were based further up the middle harbour, and many of the fleet moved there for the night. 

The intrepid and still slightly traumatised catamaran couple did not make the move and stayed the night right where they were in Sugarloaf Bay. They are described as intrepid because they still held sundowners. This time, Owen and Linda turned up, which was a 100% increase on the previous evening’s sundowners following the bushwalk. This time, however, the poor attendance was not due to tiredness of the other crews, but because all of the other boats, bar 3, had moved to the next day’s location. Consequently, a competing sundowners was held there. See below the revealing of the competing group.