Homecoming

My eyeballs are scratchy, and I'm really not sure what the state of play is with the skipper. There's a minimum of conversation on Kukka today. We're home, or as good as, and that takes some getting used to.

We're tucked in behind North Head, at Store Beach. We know this pretty cove like the back of our hand. It was a favorite family lunch spot during the many years our sailing was confined to Sydney Harbour by the twin responsibilities of raising children and earning a living. The swaggering boys on their over-sized plastic powerboats and the day sailors steamed in at about 11 am and now, as the sun falls out of the western sky, they're pulling up anchor and heading back down the harbour. That used to be us. Now what are we?



We made our break from Coffs Harbour shortly after noon on Wednesday. There was next to no breeze, but a promise of northerlies to come. That was good enough for Kukka and for Panacea (pictured above with one of the many usual suspects prowling the east coast). On the basis of a southerly change forecast for Saturday evening, we agreed to bypass the stopover at Broken Bay and sail straight through to Sydney. If that meant arriving at night, so be it.


Panacea, a Najad 39, is a pretty yacht, very similar in style to Kukka, though with more freeboard. We kept pace with her most of the way, give or take a couple of miles. Here she is en route - we love to photograph our friends' yachts, knowing what pleasure it will give them to see themselves in the mirror.

We came in through the heads at 2 am under a full moon. I'd like to say it was unbelievable, romantic and so on, but the truth is that Alex and I were a bit frazzled (understatement). So today, we're lying low. The city is there, we can feel it as well as see it. Panacea, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, came alongside this morning for a chat before setting out down the harbour. For Agnes, who hasn't been to Sydney before, the prize for coming this far south was always going to be sailing past the Opera House. She couldn't wait any longer to claim it.





For us, picking up the lines on our marina berth means the end of the voyage, or rather, the end of this voyage. That can wait until tomorrow.