Lord Howe Island Getaway

Night fell suddenly on the tiny yacht, an insignificant speck in the turbulent Tasman Sea. Ominous clouds closed in and the rain fell heavily. The same ten- and four-foot waves that had been so exhilarating in daylight surfing turned into menacing monsters, intent on dumping tons of foamy water onto Levi’s deck and into his cabin. The sails were hoisted twice in anticipation of a stormy night.

We had left New Zealand’s picturesque Bay of Islands seven days earlier aboard my Levitation yacht, a Cavalier 32, bound for Queensland, Australia. He had made arrangements to clear customs on Lord Howe Island, as is popular for many yachts sailing between the two countries.

My crew: Orit, a 24-year-old Israeli girl, a brilliant backpacker, who had no sailing experience. She spent time in the army after school and wanted to become a marine biologist. And Nick, 50, who had sailed most of his life and crewed yachts in Queensland’s coastal regattas, although he never owned his own yacht, considered himself an expert in marine navigation.

Orit and I were on watch all night. Searching in the dark through the pouring rain, we finally make out the black triangle known as the Balls Pyramid and the towering mountains of Lord Howe Island.

I found it strange… I couldn’t see any navigation lights… just the ever-increasing size of the black landmass. I looked on the chart for the magenta flash mark to indicate a beacon and couldn’t find one. I couldn’t even see the light that should be on top of the mountain for air traffic. I make a call on channel 16 on the VHF periodically throughout the night. No response.

At last it was dawn, gray and gloomy, with boisterous 25-30 knot winds from the southeast churning up the sea. At 0600 hours the radio came on and I got in touch with someone outside of our little world. What a relief, I was anxious to get the marine weather forecast. I was told that the weather and tidal conditions were not favorable for navigating the narrow entrance to the coral reef, but by mid-afternoon the situation was expected to improve.

Exhausted, we all wanted to get in before nightfall and tiredness made us nervous. “As soon as my feet hit the ground, I’m headed to the nearest McDonald’s, a Big Mac and a thick shake,” Orit fantasized. “For me it’s a long hot shower, clean hair, dry clothes, and then I’ll settle for a glass of cold chardonnay,” I replied. Nick was quiet! Darkness settled over us as the harbormaster led us through the narrow coral inlet, where the wind was still whipping white caps into the calm waters of the lagoon. He shined his high-beam flashlight on the two unlit triangular navaids and lined them up. There were no port or starboard markers, and what I thought was a main light turned out to be a solitary light on the shore. The mooring was close to the coral entrance and the chain was difficult to lift and secure in the still stormy conditions.

The island was dark and threatening. Where was the town, the lights of all kinds (navigation, street, car!) and all the familiar signs of life that have accused us. This was really weird for me. In all my travels I had never experienced it before. This was far from what we envisioned as our tropical island getaway.

The sun rose on a new day, and so did our spirits. We were in awe of the majestic twin mountains of Gower and Lidguard, their peaks shrouded in mist. The enticing emerald and turquoise waters of the crystal clear lagoon met sun drenched sand and lush tropical forest. Ivory foam cascaded over the world’s southernmost coral reef. We hand feed schools of fish.

We waited impatiently for the wind to die down and then climbed aboard my inflatable, swinging 3 garbage bags of wet smelly clothes. After a long line we loaded our cargo up the boat ramp. Tierra firme how wonderful it felt. The customs officer, barefoot, in shorts and a T-shirt, met us at his office (the back of an SUV). I paid a $150 A fee and arranged for quarantine check.

Now was the time to indulge our desire to explore. Nick headed to Wilson’s bike rental. From time to time we would see him, with his head down and a multicolored helmet, pedaling furiously. Orit and I decided to walk.

At Aunt Sue’s garden restaurant we devoured a meal of fresh fish and salad from the garden. What luxury after the last eight days. Leanda Lei Apartments allowed us to use her laundry. Orit and I row back to Levi. Nick was still doing his thing and decided to get acquainted with some of the locals at the Bowling Club.

As night fell, the wind whipped the waters of the lagoon. Levi swayed alarmingly, sometimes healing himself. Bullets of wind sped down the mountain at amazing speeds, swinging us and pulling us against our moorings. He was afraid that the chain would break and we would end up on the rocks or coral. In a lull, we strapped on our harnesses (yes, at a mooring) and ventured out, securing the boat with more ropes and chains. Our first night was very unstable. At intervals throughout the night I checked GPS and waypoints to make sure we hadn’t crawled.

Travel brochures described Lord Howe as “not just another island, but another world”. And that is! Discovered in 1788 and settled in 1833, Lord Howe is one of the first three islands in the world to receive World Heritage status and is impressive for its natural beauty, marine and plant life. It is only 11 km long and 2.8 km wide, 700 km NE of Sydney, Australia. Two volcanic mountains dominate the island and dominate the reef-fringed lagoon and its surf.

Many of its 300 inhabitants are descendants of the original settlers. The Wilsons, who have operated oceanfront apartments for more than 90 years, have collected many memorabilia from visiting boaters and travelers during that time.

Nick, unsurprisingly, decided to fly home. Orit stayed with me and we adopted a relaxed lifestyle while we made repairs and waited for a favorable weather window.
One night we walk fearlessly in total darkness as there are no street lights to the bowling club under a canopy of dense tropical foliage. The keys are left in the ignition of the cars and the doors open, nobody steals them where they would go. Car accidents, worst thing I was told was crashing into a tree while drunk after leaving the bowling club. The speed limit is 25 km throughout the island and bicycles have the right of way.

We enjoyed happy hour at the bowling club, live music at Pine Trees Resort, and played bongos with some of the locals as they played guitars and sang.
No, we did not find a McDonald’s or even an ATM. High-rise buildings, grand hotels, movie theaters, shopping malls, and marinas were conspicuously absent. But there were also the things that can only go with development; pollution, traffic jams, high crime rate and stress.

What we did find in abundance were the most important things that nourish the soul. Lord Howe is unspoiled and serene, a haven for rare and beautiful birds, a mecca for fishermen. You can dive or snorkel in the crystal clear lagoon and there is deep sea fishing beyond the reef. It is a place to escape from fast-paced life… And lazily embrace beauty and simplicity.