Departing the Hunters with squaresail set we logged 10 knots running before strong westerlies. With the mainsail furled the centre of effort of the sail plan now moved well forward allowing us to steer with little effort. During these experimental times I was using for a squaresail the main course of the "Bintang Terang", a huge Singapore yacht cum trader, that had taken part in the Sydney-Hobart some years before. This sail, hand sewn in Holland, was meant to be reefed by fisting it up to the yard presumably with a crew of oriental gentry who were sadly missed when I went forward to douse the monster. By pulling one line at the deck, I brailed in the head of the sail like a curtain on a track. With ropes I dragged the clews together. But having omitted to provide brails to the belly of the sail, I now found myself careering through the gathering gloom with something like a German sausage, slit lengthways, strapped to the foremast in a rising gale south west. Climbing to the yard I found I could actually stand on the bulging sail-hanging on like the devil himself, of course. A strong gust finally solved the problem by taking control of the vessel and heeling her over. Rounding up, the sail became momentarily aback, whereupon I seized the collapsed upper portion and that gave me the advantage. Slowly I gained control and lashing it to the foremast, returned to the deck outwardly nonchalant, inwardly rattled, but secure in the knowledge that however favourable the winds, that sail would never be used again without brads. The new synthetic course we now use is generously equipped with brails and collapses as it is drawn in to the mast. At regular intervals up the sail the brails go out to the edge of the squaresail, return the other side and are connected to a common downhaul. The square topsail of course does not require brails as the inhaul on the upper yard is adequate to control it after the upper yard has been lowered to its resting position about two feet above the main yard. Incidentally the total absence of chafe with the square rig is most pleasing.
East of Devonport the coast loses the magnificence of the bold rocky promentories that is characteristic of the western part, and we lost interest in prolonging our return crossing of the strait. A passage through Bass Strait, known since its discovery by Surgeon George Bass for its wild nature, is made particularly dangerous by the presence of King Island and its reefs at the western end and the granite tops of the sunken Bunnerong Range at the eastern end, which once connected Australia and Tasmania. These Islands and rocks scattering south from Wilson's Promentary can be a nightmare should the weather worsen. Eminently suitable names such as Cutter Rock, Crocodile Rocks, Devil's Tower and Cone Islet indicate the nature of the dangers in this area. Later on our way to New Zealand we were to shelter at Deal Island in the Kent Group about halfway across and found its wild beauty to he the equal of any island we saw on the Tasmanian coast.
At dawn in boisterous weather we threaded our way through the most dangerous area and reached Refuge Cove on Wilson's Promentory later that day. This cove, the only really secure haven for a yacht east of Port Phillip, well deserves its name. A popular spot for yachts at Christmas or on passage to the tropics and return, it is inaccessible by road and therefore, one would hope, presents to the visitor an example of natural Australian beauty. Not so. On the huge granite houlders literally gallons of white paint have been expended to advertise in letters up to ten feet high not only the names of visiting boats but sundry skin diving clubs and the virtues of certain beers. However, it is a refuge, albeit a polluted one. The trip from the Prom. to Port Phillip was made in a northerly which conveniently turned southwest at the Heads, giving us an easy passage home.