Ships in the night

“Hibari, Hibari, Hibari, this is sailing vessel Rafiki, Rafiki.”
…
“Station calling Hibari, go ahead.”
“Hibari this is sailing vessel Rafiki. We are approaching you from the north, distance approximately 5 miles. We will pass close astern of you. Over.”
“Rafiki, Hibari. I understand you. Please stay clear and give us 1 mile distance. Over.”
“Roger. We will pass one mile astern of you. Rafiki standing by, channel one six.”

Ships passing in the night. We’re about ten miles of the Australian coast, heading south. Departed Coff’s Harbour yesterday afternoon. It’s busy tonight, at least compared to the open ocean. Out there in the middle of nowhere we didn’t see anyone for days at a time. Here, big cargo ships charge past every hour, their lights first appearing as specks on the horizon, blinking on and off as they appear and disappear behind waves. After a few minutes the lights are solid, on full time, as the ship rises above the horizon maybe 5 or 6 miles away. Within 20 minutes, they are right up next to us. Before the lights appear, a little mark pops up on my chartplotter; their AIS signal coming in over the radio. I can see their name, speed, direction, destination, size, rate of turn, how close they are going to pass us, and the time to closest distance. Usually we have an alarm set so that whenever a ship is due to come within 2 miles in the next 25 minutes, the plotter beeps – but when it’s busy like tonight, I’ve got it turned off. We also transmit an AIS signal, so that other ships can see where we are and where we’re going. These days all commercial vessels need to have AIS, which makes night sailing on busy coasts much easier!

A spectacular dawn is breaking, sharp clouds etched in black against a vivid palette of soft watercolour peach, orange and red. Soon the bottom of the clouds will turn red, and then the sun will be up. It’s cold out here tonight, can’t be much above ten degrees. Back in Coff’s Harbour, we endured the “coldest spell in fifteen years” as a “polar vortex” (gotta love the media names for extreme weather) came through, driven by the low pressure that we’d sailed hard to avoid being at sea for. Clear skies, windy, and bitterly cold for a couple of days. They even had snow on the hills not far away! I regretted sending all my warm clothes back to England…

Clearing into Australia was straightforward; we pulled into the marina and two burly chaps came aboard in smart blue uniforms and big clumpy boots. Between them they handled customs, immigration and quarantine. Friendly and efficient, by ten we were all done. So we’re officially in!

With the Aussie flag now flying from our starboard spreader, we’re bashing south into choppy seas and a chilly, gusty headwind. Next stop Newcastle, about 140 miles away.