The sail from Manly north was uneventful and covered some miles free with wind power.
Several hours north from Manly on Morton Island is the resort called Tangalooma.
The wrecks lay only a couple of hundred meters off the shore and is a popular snorkeling site.
We had a go fishing there but we were plagued with bat and zebra fish, both species I detest.
The resort is a mecca for Chinese and Pom tourists, I can’t figure why.
On the day we arrived we moored just south of the wrecks in 5 meters of water.
We took the tender south to the resort and swapped and arm and a leg for a few beers.
Sitting out on the beer garden perched on the beach wasn’t the worst way to spend a few hours, I guess.
Slapper named it a poor mans island resort and I think he nailed it.
That night we decided to head north at sparrows the next morning.
Sparrows the following morning was accompanied with a meter and half of swell from the north and a blustery northerly of at least 25 knots.
As Slapper has been known to say often, a gentleman never sails to windward.
So we didn’t.
We remained moored that day in rain and stormy northerlies.
And the night that followed.
It was quite uncomfortable and not at all dignified but we endured.
The morning of the third day saw rain and crappy swells but the wind had changed to a cold and dispiriting south easter of 20 knots or so.
We motored south to get around the sand bars that collect offshore from the wrecks and then set sail heading north.
We both threw a lure into the wake and settled in to grind as many miles north as we could.
Just before dark that night we came into sight of the rock walls guarding the river into Mooloolaba.
Our lures had tempted no fish.
With dusk rapidly settling into dark we dropped the sails and motored into the marina.
Once more we found our mooring on the hammerhead as far from toilets and showers as it was possible to be.
Text and photos by Fingers.