Dispatch from Port Lincoln!
Back in port unexpectedly soon -more on that soon. So thought I'd take the opportunity to update the internet and escape the Aussie heat to the air conditioned offices of our hosts the Stehr Group before Mark gives me another job to do.......
Ed and I came in on a pencil-plane from Adeleide and I got my first glimpse of the tuna operations from the air - the bay below was dotted with the circular floating pens. We landed at the dusty strip where a sign above the terminal entrance welcomed us to "Tuna City." Mark met us at the airport with the news the boats were leaving three days earlier than expected so instead of a cruisy preparation, it was 48 hours of madness - setting up dive gear, working on cameras, shopping.
Despite the rush, it was great to be back on the Evohe. The 80 foot steel hull motor sailor is the kind of boat you can easily become attached to. This is my third trip on it – another adventure on the high seas! The boat is crewed by volunteers – like-minded individuals who do it for the love of waking up in strange fishing towns on the far side of the world that no one else has ever heard of.
We dropped our moorings first thing Thursday morning and motored out into the bay to film the crew picking up the tow pens. These are circular plastic rings, hung with nets to form a pen about 15 metres deep and 30 metres across. Each will hold several thousand tuna, and the “Kingfish” will spend the next week towing two of them out to the fishing grounds way out in the Great Australian Bight. They are very heavy and bulky, so the boat can only move at about 1 knot.
The first day was very nice - a huge school of dolphins escorted us onto a calm sea, and in the evening, we moored in a beautiful remote bay and drank gin and tonic as a gentle fog rolled in.
The forecast wasn’t good - a severe southerly was on its way, and there was some trepidation from the crew, all of whom had been necking seasick pills on the way out.
We were not to be disappointed.
As we deposited the topside crew on the Kingfish next day the wind was already starting to blow up, and by nightfall we were in the thick of it. Those left on the Evohe (including me) were lucky enough to find relative shelter behind an island while the others had to ride it out on the tow vessel, copping 50 knot gusts and heavy seas. Apparently they went backwards for most of the night.
Next day the wind had dropped but the swell was still very big – far too rough to pick the crew up, so they had to spend another night aboard, while the rest of us rolled and slopped our way through the lumpy swell to catch up with them. Both cameramen puked their guts out for two days – one had been totally debilitated by sea sickness and couldn’t work at all. I have been lucky – I haven’t been affected by it yet, touch wood.
When the swell finally abated we collected the crew and (director) Mark decided he had enough footage from the towing section of the trip (Apparently all the divers do on the way out is sleep and eat anyway)
He decided to head back to Port Lincoln to do some filming there, and catch up with the Kingfish in a few days time. Also, he wanted to get a crew on the other vessel that is heading out, which doesn’t leave until Sunday.
So, we made our way back - by now the sea was a gentle oily roll that made for a very comfortable return journey. We all stretched out and relaxed after a difficult few days. I went to sleep in my bunkroom, only to be woken in the afternoon by the skipper throwing the boat out of gear in a big hurry. I stumbled out half asleep to find everyone out on deck looking over the side and the cameramen hurriedly setting up their gear. I was just about to ask what was going on when there was a loud snort and the grey bulk of a whale broke the surface just metres off the port side.
I was lucky enough to observe blue whales close at hand in Chile a couple of years ago, so I recognized it straight off. It was a small one –“only” about 14 metres or so, but a blue whale is a blue whale – one of the rarest and most breathtaking sights in the ocean. Even our skipper Steve, who has spent thirty years sailing the world’s ocean had never seen one.
The whale was feeding – we could see clouds of krill drifting past in its wake. At one point it swam right under the boat, and the whole of its body glowed an eerie luminous blue.
We got back to Port Lincoln and Mark immediately found heaps of stuff for us to film – we went out to the farm pens and I got my first swim with the tuna. It’s a pretty amazing feeling to freedive down ten metres or so and sit there completely surrounded by hundreds of large tuna. Sometimes you think they’re going to take you out, but they always swerve off at the last second. They are incredible fish - torpedos of speed and power.
So anyway, that’s a brief summary to date. We’re scheduled to leave for the fishing grounds on Friday. Unfortunately, this means we will miss “Tunarama” – Port Lincoln’s big day of the year, where you can see such attractions as the Tuna Toss and the beach-babe competition (although one of the divers told me the best thing about that is the beach, anyway).
All is well – the atmosphere on the boat is good, the tuna guys are a very laid-back bunch of guys, and hopefully I will have plenty more adventures to report in 5 or 6 weeks!
See you soon
Love Bill
P.S sorry no photos but I don't have any at hand - hopefully next time!
Ed and I came in on a pencil-plane from Adeleide and I got my first glimpse of the tuna operations from the air - the bay below was dotted with the circular floating pens. We landed at the dusty strip where a sign above the terminal entrance welcomed us to "Tuna City." Mark met us at the airport with the news the boats were leaving three days earlier than expected so instead of a cruisy preparation, it was 48 hours of madness - setting up dive gear, working on cameras, shopping.
Despite the rush, it was great to be back on the Evohe. The 80 foot steel hull motor sailor is the kind of boat you can easily become attached to. This is my third trip on it – another adventure on the high seas! The boat is crewed by volunteers – like-minded individuals who do it for the love of waking up in strange fishing towns on the far side of the world that no one else has ever heard of.
We dropped our moorings first thing Thursday morning and motored out into the bay to film the crew picking up the tow pens. These are circular plastic rings, hung with nets to form a pen about 15 metres deep and 30 metres across. Each will hold several thousand tuna, and the “Kingfish” will spend the next week towing two of them out to the fishing grounds way out in the Great Australian Bight. They are very heavy and bulky, so the boat can only move at about 1 knot.
The first day was very nice - a huge school of dolphins escorted us onto a calm sea, and in the evening, we moored in a beautiful remote bay and drank gin and tonic as a gentle fog rolled in.
The forecast wasn’t good - a severe southerly was on its way, and there was some trepidation from the crew, all of whom had been necking seasick pills on the way out.
We were not to be disappointed.
As we deposited the topside crew on the Kingfish next day the wind was already starting to blow up, and by nightfall we were in the thick of it. Those left on the Evohe (including me) were lucky enough to find relative shelter behind an island while the others had to ride it out on the tow vessel, copping 50 knot gusts and heavy seas. Apparently they went backwards for most of the night.
Next day the wind had dropped but the swell was still very big – far too rough to pick the crew up, so they had to spend another night aboard, while the rest of us rolled and slopped our way through the lumpy swell to catch up with them. Both cameramen puked their guts out for two days – one had been totally debilitated by sea sickness and couldn’t work at all. I have been lucky – I haven’t been affected by it yet, touch wood.
When the swell finally abated we collected the crew and (director) Mark decided he had enough footage from the towing section of the trip (Apparently all the divers do on the way out is sleep and eat anyway)
He decided to head back to Port Lincoln to do some filming there, and catch up with the Kingfish in a few days time. Also, he wanted to get a crew on the other vessel that is heading out, which doesn’t leave until Sunday.
So, we made our way back - by now the sea was a gentle oily roll that made for a very comfortable return journey. We all stretched out and relaxed after a difficult few days. I went to sleep in my bunkroom, only to be woken in the afternoon by the skipper throwing the boat out of gear in a big hurry. I stumbled out half asleep to find everyone out on deck looking over the side and the cameramen hurriedly setting up their gear. I was just about to ask what was going on when there was a loud snort and the grey bulk of a whale broke the surface just metres off the port side.
I was lucky enough to observe blue whales close at hand in Chile a couple of years ago, so I recognized it straight off. It was a small one –“only” about 14 metres or so, but a blue whale is a blue whale – one of the rarest and most breathtaking sights in the ocean. Even our skipper Steve, who has spent thirty years sailing the world’s ocean had never seen one.
The whale was feeding – we could see clouds of krill drifting past in its wake. At one point it swam right under the boat, and the whole of its body glowed an eerie luminous blue.
We got back to Port Lincoln and Mark immediately found heaps of stuff for us to film – we went out to the farm pens and I got my first swim with the tuna. It’s a pretty amazing feeling to freedive down ten metres or so and sit there completely surrounded by hundreds of large tuna. Sometimes you think they’re going to take you out, but they always swerve off at the last second. They are incredible fish - torpedos of speed and power.
So anyway, that’s a brief summary to date. We’re scheduled to leave for the fishing grounds on Friday. Unfortunately, this means we will miss “Tunarama” – Port Lincoln’s big day of the year, where you can see such attractions as the Tuna Toss and the beach-babe competition (although one of the divers told me the best thing about that is the beach, anyway).
All is well – the atmosphere on the boat is good, the tuna guys are a very laid-back bunch of guys, and hopefully I will have plenty more adventures to report in 5 or 6 weeks!
See you soon
Love Bill
P.S sorry no photos but I don't have any at hand - hopefully next time!
posted by Bill at 10:17 PM
2 Comments:
I'd like to be your first comment on this one...this piece of vintage Morris. Nice one dear Bill...glad to see you worked out where you'd be most useful and incidentally most comfortable in undulating conditions. After all my sea gazing I feel robbed that after 2 nights at sea you saw the magnificence of the deep...I mean of course I'm happy for you- you bastard..but maybe there should be a bit more pain and suffering next time - go on - throw caution to the wind - go puke it up with the big guys!
Enjoy my friend - sounds like adventure in an aenema.
xx
Haha awsome Bill. At least tuna don't have barbed tails, right? Otherwise I'd be slightly more concerned.
Sounds like you're having a blast. Hope you manage to get down there a bit. Look forward to those photos...
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