There are times when being vague pays off. I thought the departure time for the Gordon river cruise was 10.15am, and we fronted the ticket counter about 10am when both big tourist boats were already well into their cruises having left at 9am. So we wandered next door and into the best boat trip ever. Stormbreaker is a 20m sailing ketch skippered by Trevor of West Coast Yacht Charters (03 64717422). Stormbreaker is the love of Trevor's life. He told us sadly that his wife, though he loves her dearly, doesn't care for boats. Choose your future before you choose your wife, he said. There was a poignant poem he wrote to his former boat, down in the galley. It was along the lines that the boat wished to be set free of its harbour moorings, so it could live.
Trevor entertained us with nautical aphorisms and yarns for the whole journey out to Cat Island. This deserted little treasure was once the home of a reclusive old man who lived off fish and his fruit trees. He would row into Strahan weekly for supplies. His huts and apple trees are still there. Was he still alive, I wondered, and yes, but now lives in a nursing home. I imagined this old fellow still yearning for his island solitude, and hoped he was past knowing where he was.
Our lunch was none other than locally caught crayfish with salad, fabulous.
We anchored and caught cocky salmon, three little beauties, and set them free to swim indignantly away. For the return, Trevor and his deckie, Des set the foresail and there was such a wind we made 10 knots.
There's no better place on a boat than the bowsprit, Trevor said, and we all took turns playing Kate and Leonardo's into the wind. It was amazing.
You can charter Stormbreaker for longer trips, she sleeps 13.
On return we were so exhilarated we had energy for a bike ride, so did one of the train-track-into-bike-path trails from Strahan to Regatta Point, past the ribs of old sunken wooden boats, past the huon piners punt from the early days, past blackberries in fruit, past the yard where craypots were being made from melaleuca stems.
On return we were so exhilarated we had energy for a bike ride, so did one of the train-track-into-bike-path trails from Strahan to Regatta Point, past the ribs of old sunken wooden boats, past the huon piners punt from the early days, past blackberries in fruit, past the yard where craypots were being made from melaleuca stems.
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