Leaving Cairns was easy. In contrast to my departure (with Phil) in 2001 to PNG, there is no farewell party, no emotions and no feeling of a significant change.
Instead of setting out to sea, Paula and I are just sailing up the road. I'm not concerned about the fact that there is still work to be done. The alternator doesn't charge, there is no reefing lines for the mainsail and the inside is less than ship-shape.
Phil arrives on the afternoon to say goodbye with a cask of wine. Our good-byes last until 4am. I am still drunk when we leave at 7am next morning but that doesn't bother me either. I'm ready to leave. I unfurl the genoa and make a sailing start from the CCYS marina. The tidal flow starts to push us towards the yacht on the next berth in front of us and there's not enough breeze to sail out of the way. I run down and turn the key. My new 36hp Yanmar responds and we drive off, blasting our aerosol horn for a goodbye. Wind arrives in a few hours. We leave the mainsail down and wallow in the following seas.
I nearly throw up my champagne breakfast at 3pm. The wind is sitting on 25kn and Aliisa is rolling from side to side. At five in the afternoon we anchor up in Low Isles, 30 miles north of Cairns, and I know I can finally sleep as long as I like, as many mornings as I like.
