By Barry Tyler

 

A recent article in Multihull World magazine was a timely reminder, not only for myself, but for all ‘bar-crossers’ – if in doubt, do not proceed.  Most bar crossing advice in this day and age pontificates almost ad nauseam on the right and wrong ways of crossing a bar, what to look for, what to do and where to go but the poignant reality is none of this advice no matter how well intended and explained – can ever truly prepare you for the real thing – being out there in amongst the waves and soup – on a ‘big’ day.

Yes I have done a bar course and yes it involved practical rather than theoretical experiences – all day!  It began a while back now, with a phone call from a friend who had just done a bar crossing course with well-known Brisbane boating identity Bill Corten.  The thinly veiled suggestion was I should do the same, especially considering the amount of boating I do over the course of a year, predominantly out through the Gold Coast Seaway. 

I see myself as a reasonably safe and responsible boater, always erring on the side of caution rather than bravado, so I leapt at the opportunity to establish just how much I really did know about this aspect of boating; especially as my general rule of thumb is always if it is really on the ‘boil’ at the entrance, then I will invariably turn around and head for calmer waters.  Hey, one, it isn’t my boat I’m testing and two, I like to know all the habits of a vessel, both good and bad, before I tackle anything out of the ordinary!

To cut a long story short the more I thought about my friend’s suggestion, and the more I learned about the course, the more eager I was to learn the complete A-Z of bar crossing from the man whose boat was literally the ‘classroom’.  We would be out there right in amongst it, learning first hand what to do and what not to do.  I mean to say, how bad could it really be anyway?

The phone call was duly made, and a date was organised, a date incidentally at the tail end of a cyclone that had whipped the Queensland coast up into a decidedly frenzied state.  Needless to say I got my first indicative hint of the potential ‘seriousness’ of this course when we were asked to meet at the Cleveland Boat ramp at 6am on the Sunday morning – a time that would give us sufficient latitude Corten explained, to get out to the actual bar and observe the surroundings in perhaps more ‘mundane’ conditions.  Our ‘classroom’ was a 6.25m Cruise Craft Explorer fitted with a 200hp HPDI Yamaha outboard, something I thought at the time was a tad small to be out in bar situations; more on that later in the story. 

Relaxing perhaps was the pre-conceived notion that a bar way out on the outskirts of Moreton Bay, couldn’t be that bad.  Yamba, Ballina, Brunswick Head, Tweed, Gold Coast, The Jumpin Pin, were all bars up the NSW and south Queensland Coast that because of their distinctive narrowness at the entrance, definitely had their moments.  But the next bar up the coast from the Jumpin Pin, with an entrance of 7.6km between the outer extremity of the northern channel at Moreton Island, and the southern channel on North Stradbroke Island should I figured, have been quite docile!  How wrong I was, for seemingly the whole of Moreton Bay emptied out through this ‘little’ gap.

 

Sea of contrasts

After completing our initial glossary of onboard equipment including the safety gear (this guy I concluded, was very professional), the 20km trip out from Cleveland, up and around the Conservation areas off Peel Island, seemingly took but a few minutes in the sublimely calm conditions of that hour of the morning.  Hidden previously by the island, upon rounding Amity Point at the northern tip of Straddie we got our first glimpse of our bar – what appeared to be a veritable wall of white water, right across the entrance. 

There we learned valuable lesson number one, for as impenetrable as it first appeared, Corten insisted there was always a way through.  “The first thing you do is stand off the bar a little, and identify the calmer water, which is always the deeper water,” Corten explained.  “A huge volume of water such as this has to get out somehow, so there will always be a channel somewhere.”  Valuable advice!

If you have to cross a bar to get to your favourite fishing spot, your trip should always start at home – long before you leave.  “Acquire as much local knowledge as you can, check the weather and surf height out on the local Coastal Watch site on the internet, and it is a good idea to also talk to your local boating club and/or the nearest VMR or Coast Guard,” Corten emphasised.  “Have local charts, establish beforehand where the channels are, what the weather is going to be like (for the whole day) and find out what strength the wind will get up to – all these things are just so important.

“Once armed with all the right information, the trip is always a lot safer, and easier.  If however it is your first time over that particular bar, then wait for a so-called ‘calmer’ day, and do some practice.  Another helpful hint is to just wait at the bar and observe where other boats are going – a pattern will emerge with those that do actually know the right way to go – then you can go and try it for yourself.  You will be amazed at the ease with which you can get through, just by knowing where the ‘flatter’ spots are,” he emphasised. 

As if to even further emphasis the point, we had just come effortlessly through the bar with Corten at the helm, in relatively calm conditions.  Yet a boat we watched come through only a few minutes later literally ploughed right though the middle of the bar, risking life and limb at all sorts of hideous angles – they obviously hadn’t done their homework before-hand.  “That’s the exception to the rule” Corten laconically noted, “which accentuates just why it is so important to know at what geographical point to tackle the bar.”

Corten went on to further explain how to acquire a pre-determined course, “You can also get GPS coordinates, just as a rough guide, but for me there is nothing more accurate than lining up two points of land. 

You must be entirely familiar too with these various steps in your pathway, arranging them clearly in your mind in the appropriate order.” How easy it was later on when we were to try it ourselves, lining up those points of land – and observing the waves literally parting before us.

“Bars seldom remain the same either, from one storm to another,”  he added.  “There are literally hundreds of thousands of tonnes of swirling sand within these ferocious bars, which is moved around by the tides and storms.  It is reasonable to assume then that it will not dump in the same place each time.  In saying that though, in the eight years I have been training people here, on bar crossings, this particular bar has only shifted about one kilometre north.  But some of the routes through it have changed.  It is very much the exception to the rule and this is why this bar is so good to train on, it is the best in the country as it offers every conceivable situation/scenario.” That was comforting I suppose!

Surprise number two

My second little (sole shattering) surprise for the day came in the mistaken pre-conceived plan that I was just going to sit there and take photos, notes, and watch the other three ‘customers’ do all the hard work.  Corten called for volunteers to go first, and of course my three counterparts who obviously didn’t want to look stupid in front of a journo, pulled rank and out-voted me.  I became the first ‘volunteer’. 

What the hell I thought, I was 10ft tall and bullet-proof and totally unfazed by a wall of water in front of me that was about to dump on me at any milli-second – yeah right!  All of a sudden I realised just how insignificant anyone is, against the might of mother-nature, and why you need to know what you are doing. 

Prepare yourself for the trip however, follow a few basic yet very appropriate rules and it is possible to complete the task safely and successfully, as we did.  For Corten, there were however seven golden rules, which he explains to you just before you set off for the first time, like a lamb to the slaughter.  They were:

1. If new to bars, try to only cross in good conditions, and gain experience gradually.  Seek local knowledge and watch how other boats cross the bar.
2. If in doubt, don’t cross a bar unless you think it is safe.
3. Before crossing, check your boats operating systems thoroughly – throttle, steering, bilge pump.
4. Secure all hatches and all loose gear.
5. All occupants should wear a lifejacket if crossing breaking waves.
6. Log your trip on and off, with your local volunteer rescue organisation.
7. When the crossing is completed, take a back-mark, GPS position, and compass bearing to ‘assist’ in locating and negotiating the entrance on the return trip.

That last point is particularly moot for as Corten so correctly pointed out at the time, and which was graphically illustrated during the course of our trip that day, conditions can change dramatically in the course of a tide change, water action (swell height), different channel depth, or wind.  Simply, there are no hard and fast rules, but you still need to know where the actual channels are – and what stage the tide is at!

Having made the trip back in through the south entrance then back up through the northern side of the bar, it was my turn to take over the handle bars.  Sitting facing the forming waves (never he says, sit with your back to it, in case you have to run to the shoulder of the crest) it was my job description to pick a wave that looked like it had potential, a bit like a surfer does, then accelerate and turn aggressively so I traversed the top of the wave and clung to the back – piece of cake I thought!

Actually, it was quite simple, as Corten had prepared us for what to do, not with words, but with deeds/example.  There I was clinging to the back of a swell that at around 15-20kts quickly gathered momentum into what ultimately became a raging torrent of foam.  The trick though was to stick with it all the way, staying just off the fringe of the face – for as the saying goes, “it ain’t finished til it’s over.”  Another lesson was learned too, for no sooner had it broken into froth (and I somehow found traction through all the cavitation that occurred in this broken water), than it formed again and was off yet again – equally as ferocious.  Be prepared for anything!

This bar probably ran for nearly two kilometres, and I have to say once I had overcome the fear factor (it was bloody big water, and I was in an unfamiliar boat) and relaxed, it was one hell of a buzz knowing I was actually doing it right – I had beaten the bugger!  I really began to appreciate the words of encouragement from Corten, “trim up slightly and work the throttle aggressively enough to stay on the back of the wave at all costs, don’t fall off, and don’t ever over-run it, unless the wave has petered out completely and you can see the whole face of the wave in front,” he barked.  I didn’t have the courage to ask what would happen, if I didn’t!

Turn and face it

Once inside the bar and feeling most happy with my effort, it was time to turn round and proceed back out yet again – through these veritable mountains of blue and white water that eclipsed the ocean proper.  This is where it gets tricky, for a moments hesitation or indecision, and you end up swimming – or dead!  It is perhaps pertinent to suggest that in an ideal world the best time to cross a bar is on a making tide (just after the point of turn), or at the very least, during an incoming tide.

My first two trips back out were on an incoming tide, and at the time the wave action was nowhere near as violent.  Big yes, but the swells/waves in this instance took a lot longer to break, and they invariably rose to virtually a point in the centre and had a lower shoulder at each end, which was the last part of the wave to break. 

Trimmed in for this part of the exercise, the trick was to pick which end of the shoulder to run to, so if possible have a quick look at the wave following, to make sure you are not driving yourself into a ‘dead-end street’.  “Don’t ever follow or sit alongside another boat through a bar, either when going in or out,”  Corten added.  “There is potential danger in two boats heading for the same piece of water at the same time.  Stagger your position, maybe one or two waves apart, so as to alleviate the potential for collision.  And of course, never ever lose your nerve and try and turn round in the face of an oncoming wave.  Once you are committed to the wave, there is no turning back – period!”

By traversing the bottom of the dip between the two wave sets, sometimes quite aggressively, other times with all the time in the world, you can pick and choose your ‘path’ so all you have to do is power up to the face, throttle back just before the top of the wave (you’ll head skywards if you don’t, even though you are trimmed in), then simply ‘flop’ over the other side.  Quickly get up to speed again though, for you might have a way to go before you find the next ‘shoulder to cry on’.  Then do it all again, and again, and again – practice makes perfect, they say!

When a wave is unbroken, approaching the wave at about a 15° angle will take some of the power out of that wave, allowing you to drop harmlessly over the back of it virtually without any pounding whatsoever.  The trick of it though is to get to the wave, on the shoulder of it and not in the middle, before it breaks.  If you can’t get to the next wave in time, and it is starting to break, then it is a whole new ball-game; a potentially very dangerous one at that. 

Breaking white-water waves must be approached absolutely square on, and the trick is to get the boat up onto the plane, so less boat is in the water, then immediately at the point of impact with the first of the broken water, reduce power immediately.  Because the boat is higher out of the water when on the plane, and because there is no power on to send the boat skywards the boat virtually stops, suspended in the aerated water, then drops down the back of the wave.  Easier said than done definitely, and you should be practicing that one on the relatively calmer days first, again and again till you get the actual timing of the exercise, down to a fine art.

Practice makes perfect

The good thing about doing this course in ‘real life’ was everyone got a shot at it, and while the bar was at about two metres, we all had two to three runs in and out again so as to thoroughly acquaint ourselves with navigation, reading, planning and negotiation, of waves.  All this time however, the seas were increasing, and following the tide change that was ‘raising’ the water on the northern end, I well remember Corten made the decision to slip back over to the southern end before it became impassable.  Now there was something to look forward to, I thought at the time!

As already stated, wind, swell and tide change everything and with the tide change that day came a very different sea ‘manner’.  Out-going tides in bar situations, move at anything up to five knots, and put this up against a swell situation rolling in at 15kts and you all of a sudden have a steeper wave face that has more potential to break – at any time!  Which equates to danger, so it becomes even trickier now, negotiating your way in or out of a bar.  The only saving grace was it was not windy, for this little phenomenon depending on the ferocity, also has the potential to further change dramatically, the shape of the face of the wave. 

With this new-found vigour in the waves, all the time Corten’s words were reverberating through everyone’s minds – clearly identify the entrance, check the rhythm of the waves, pick the line of least activity, apply only sufficient throttle to stay on the back of the wave – Geronimo, we were off. 

Again, it was a relatively ‘easy’ exercise entering through the bar, running ‘down-hill’ and out the other side; one could even still describe it as (perverse) fun.  But turning round and facing the beast – bloody hell, it had got very big (three to four metres), and very confused.  Where the deeper parts in the centre were calm before, now the tide against swell had stood the waves up and they were breaking everywhere.  Plotting a course out through there was tantamount to finding the proverbial needle in a haystack.

Despite the ‘confused’ state of the sea, it was however still possible to find a feint path through the debris, but in the conditions it was still very easy to get caught out – as one of our team (not me, fortunately!) found out to his astonishment.  With so little room to move in, between waves, a moment’s hesitation saw our boat hit a breaking wave only very slightly off square, and it certainly gave us a decent side-swipe.  Any wider in angle, and we may well have become yet another bar statistic.  Not surprisingly, that little experience attracted a unanimous sub-conscious vote to call an end to the day’s lesson, we all felt we had learned enough for one seven-hour period – in the most graphic and effective way possible. 

With a little help from a friend

As well as we coped with the overall exercise, I couldn’t help but feel a wealth of appreciation for our rig for the day.  Initially as I said earlier, I felt uncomfortable and unsafe in a smaller boat, regardless of make, as we tackled the bar for the first time.  But once into the exercise that was very quickly dispelled and once again there was a scenario there, to learn from – go boating with appropriate equipment, especially if you are subjecting it on a regular basis, to work of this magnitude. 

And contrary to what most people think bigger isn’t better when crossing a bar.  You don’t have to have a large cruiser, to be safe.  I well remember in fact during a previous boat evaluation on the very same Cruise Craft 625 Explorer model, where at the time Cruise Craft MD Kevin Nichols reckoned he would take that boat anywhere, in any seas.  After my bar crossing course I understood exactly what he meant, and so too does arguably his best salesman, Bill Corten.  His boat Reel Affair is out on or over the bar in one mode or another (he teaches fishing techniques also) – virtually every weekend of the year.  The best advert a boat could ever ask for, this boat handled those conditions in its stride, and it was only 6.25m in length. 

The trip back to base gave me sufficient time to reflect on what I had learned, and how I had learned it, for it was indeed yet another very valuable chapter in the rich tapestry of seamanship.  Corten through this ‘lesson’ had prepared the four of us for all situations, not with words, but with deeds. 

For me that was the lucid most obvious feature about this course, you actually did it, not talked about it, for no words can ever prepare you for your first run in a genuine bar situation – its nothing short of ‘bloody scary’.  The human mind has to do or say something seven times before it fully comprehends or remembers, so the fact that between all of us we did over 96 actual crossings on the day, with and into the bar, sure helped to embellish in our minds the appropriate responses to any given bar situation!

It wasn’t all plain sailing either for despite the fact we were in a controlled situation with arguably the best teacher in the world, at one stage as stated we did get ourselves into a position where but for the grace of god we all but tipped it over.  It really got the attention of all aboard for it graphically illustrated why you must be prepared at all times, for the completely unexpected.  In that particular instance because we were – thankfully we survived without mishap. 

I may never get to run in a bar situation again in my life, I may, but of two things I was adamant; one, no matter what state or country I lived in I would drive/fly a million miles to sit this test again, because secondly, I now have the knowledge and confidence in my own ability – to plan and safely negotiate a bar situation.  

How he survived that manoeuvre I will never know – maybe he should book a course like I did, then he would realise first hand just how lucky he was to survive the ordeal.  It certainly brings a new meaning to the cliché, ignorance is bliss, for to this day he still quite obviously feels it was a magnificent piece of seamanship on his part!