night together. The excitement of the day had finally passed through our system as we took time out to gather our thoughts and explore our new surroundings. The rocking sensation as we headed into the waves had finally quelled the enthusiasm of Mika and Nicolette, and they were officially feeling seasick. They had both taken the seasickness drug dramamine to quell their impulses to throw up, which, in turn, spaced them out, making the stars even more pretty.
Beau and Josh were in better shape. Their experience in sailing Kijana from Brisbane to Melbourne had given their bodies a taste for the movement.
As the sun disappeared, Beau swung into action to prepare our first meal. He immediately discovered that the bike pump required to pressurise the kerosene tank for the stove was missing, forcing him to prepare a cold meal of dry biscuits and guacamole with tinned oysters mixed into it.
He handed the girls their meal (you can imagine being served that while feeling seasick â they were less than impressed), then hit the sack at 8 p.m. after drawing the fourth watch in the early hours of the morning.
I wanted to make sure we got far enough away from land before I also went to bed, so Josh stayed on deck to keep me company. We sat at the rear of the boat, the glow of the compass lighting the cockpit as we talked about the day.
At one stage we were looking out into the darkness at the black water when Josh broke the silence by thanking me for asking him to come on the trip. I was taken aback, but I didnât think it was the right time to thank him for accepting my invitation. I knew he appreciated being aboard. I saw it in the way he did things. While Beau was the muscles of the crew, doing the hard jobs and committing his all to any task at hand, I considered Josh to be the apprentice captain. Even before we hit the water he was eager to learn everything about sailing, including all the theory, as if he thought I was going to fall overboard one day.
Josh may have thought I was doing him a favour, but, as I saw it, he was repaying me tenfold with his enthusiasm. We sat and talked about what he should do with the sails if the wind changed or a gust came through unexpectedly. His questioning gave me a sense of support that was invaluable. I knew Kijana was in good hands.
When I woke the next morning we were well on our way to Wilsons Promontory, the southernmost tip of mainland Australia. The conditions were overcast and the wind had died down a little. I was glad to hear that Mika and Nicolette had completed their watches. Each crew member had completed a four-hour watch overnight. Josh and Mika had kept watch after I went to bed, then Beau took over Joshâs role, then three hours later, Nicolette took over Mikaâs role. I shared the last watch with Nicolette.
During those first few nights there were always two people awake in case any problems arose. Having two people on watch also meant you could keep each other company and prevented anyone from drifting off to sleep.
A keen eye had to be kept for any other ships, and every hour our position was plotted on the chart and course adjustments made depending on our progress and position.
Even though the girls were seasick, they appeared to enjoy life out on the water. The scenery was always changing, whether it was overcast or a blue sky, and we appreciated having finally left the hectic schedule of organising and the crowds. It was the first time in months that any of us had been able to sit down and chat without the pressure of having things to do.
It was great to relax and just enjoy each otherâs company. But there was plenty to do on board. For instance, in the months leading up to our departure, each of us had completed a navigation course. However, weâd finished it before Nicolette arrived, so she had missed out. We spent the first few days teaching her how to plot our position using the GPS (global positioning system).
It took us four days to