Yesterday, just under four days out of Christmas Island, 525 nm, we sighted the first island of Cocos Keeling at ten in the morning. Cocos Keeling is a conglomeration of Islands, West Island, South Island, Home Island, Direction Island, and a few more islands. We were headed to West Island, as our Captain thought that a Christmas Island police officer had advised him to go there upon our departure from there.
We followed the markers, red on our left and green on our right, but I got a funny suspicion that these were not the markers we were looking for. Instead, they were leading us to a more commercial area where cargo ships and tankers would frequent. So we got on the radio, told them who we were, and gave them our position. Harbor authority informed us that we had to make a 180 turn and follow the markers back out, now red on the right, and green on the left, toward Direction Island, to the east. The conversation ended with one of those ‘you can’t miss it’ famous last words.
We’ll show you!
But we didn’t. The moment we finished our radio conversation, a voice came on asking harbor authority if Code Blue needed assistance or needed to be shown the way, “we are in the vicinity.” Harbor authority told them we seemed a little lost and, if you don’t mind……. Sure enough, within five minutes, we were overtaken by a powerful raft manned by a woman and a man wearing uniforms, helmets, and life preservers, motioning us to follow them. They led us to a quarantine buoy at Direction Island. They helped us tie up after three unsuccessful attempts of our own. Most mooring buoys have a ring on top with a line attached to it which you pick up with a hook and loop around a cleat on the boat, and Bob is your uncle. This one, not so much. We had to grab the ring on top with our hook, a stick with a hook at its end, hold it, and run a mooring line through it. In 23 knots wind, trying to hold a 40-foot boat lying on the deck well above the buoy is virtually impossible. You need to be very quick. Eventually, we would have been successful, but handing the lady the line and having her casually run it through the loop and hand it back to us was a hell of a lot easier.
It turns out these two were Australian Border Force officers on patrol. Apparently, in the Islands, they don’t do entrance and exits but instead leave that to the Australian Federal Police, as on the mainland, they would take care of those ‘mundane’ tasks. We thanked them profusely, and with a big wave of the arm and a ‘No worries mate,’ they left us at the yellow buoy.
I now contacted the Australian Federal Police on channel 20 and informed them of our existence and location. They told us they’d get back to us on Monday. It is Saturday noon now. We are to stay on the boat but are allowed to go onshore for necessities. I asked him to repeat that. Indeed, yes, necessities.
The island looks gorgeous, but I can’t upload photos and have no idea how to take them. I brought my big DSLR camera, but I need to learn how to use it. All pictures are very blue. Plus, I’m not all that interested in photography either. I thought I would, but I’m not. Bad investment. But if I had to come up with an idyllic image for an island for a Robinson Crusoe episode on reality TV, this would be it. Sandy beaches, palm trees, abundant fish, riptide snorkeling, bluest water imaginable, sunshine, and so the list goes on.
We thought we’d spotted a little resort from our boat on the beach and pointed the dinghy toward it. There are about ten daytime picnic areas on the island. And what we thought to be a resort was actually one of those complete with tables, a barbecue, an outhouse, and a roof for shade and rain. We learned from some people on the beach that the ferry from Home Island drops people off in the morning and picks them up in the afternoon for a day of r&r. The island is uninhabited, and after the ferry picked up all visitors at four in the afternoon, it was just Steve and me.
What necessities was this official referring to? I manhandled two coconuts into submission with just a rock and my hands. It takes a lot of patience to strip all that fiber of the shell. And for what? Two tablespoons of liquid and some coconut meat? Yes, that’s all that’s there, but it’s not that I had any pressing matters that needed attending to in the next few hours or so.
The riptide snorkeling is fantastic. There is a reef south of our island, and the water speeds with considerable force through the passage between the island and the reef. Once you have struggled across a rocky beach and get into deep enough water, and try to swim perpendicular as far as you can into the current, the current grabs you and moves you over some beautiful seascape of corral with stunning marine life only three feet below. As soon as you get to the island’s edge, the water opens up, and the current diminishes, and it’s a leisurely swim back to where we beached the dinghy on the west side. Altogether about forty minutes in the water. Just right for me. I’m not a strong swimmer and easily tire or get cold. The water temperature is a mere 79.20 degrees, so getting cold is not a factor.
This afternoon we did some electrical work on the solar panels. There are four panels with four controllers. One of those controllers crapped out, turning the panel associated with it into a helipad for visiting birds. We have no replacement and probably won’t get one until South Africa. We fixed a wrongly hooked-up electronic gizmo that gives us the state of charge of the batteries, all fascinating stuff.
The Captain handed me a glass of wine. We are at anchor. Alcohol is allowed.
I’ll talk more about Cocos Keeling after we have been checked in and hopefully free to go to the other islands.