In Search of Montague Island

A friendly seal popped his head up right near my kayak as we paddled out of Wagonga Inlet and an unfriendly Maritime boat almost ran over Doug near the bar entrance, but soon after these two events we were heading southeast with light winds and low swell. The lighthouse on Montague Island was just visible 10 km distant and floating eerily in a misty sea fog. But, it was a case of now you see it now you don't as, within minutes, the sea fog had rolled right across the horizon and sky and sea met in a blank sheet of grey.

Friendly seal near Narooma bar

We paddled on for another 15 minutes, scanning the horizon constantly for a glimpse of the island or the lighthouse, but ocean and sky seemed merged in to one quietly heaving liquid form. Of course, I had forgotten the compass, again. Doug suggested we paddle for an hour and then check where we were with the map on our mobile telephone, and this seemed like a reasonable suggestion, so we groped along for an hour in the deepening fog. Soon, the fog rolled right over us and settled on our skin like a clammy blanket. I kept mistaking rolling ocean swells for land and the denser the fog became the louder the waves sounded crashing on the rocks to our right.

In search of Montague Island

After about an hour, we checked the map on the 'phone and found that we had travelled much further south than east, and were only about a kilometre off-shore. We needed to travel due east, a direction we could only roughly pin-point. Doug thought we should simply paddle down to Mystery Bay and skip Montague Island but I, ever the optimist, thought the fog looked to be clearing so we decided to paddle straight into the wind – which now appeared to be easterly, not northerly as reported - for another 15 minutes.

Arriving at Montague Island

Within 10 minutes, a ghostly stretch of coastline appeared, enough to convince of us we could find the island, and within 20 minutes, we were in bright sunshine again. It took another hour to reach the island, paddling all the way into a light headwind. We reached the island a little south of the lighthouse and were immediately greeting by the caw and cry of wheeling sea birds, and the splashing of small seals. The water was wonderfully clear and a few seals were very curious and followed along behind our boats for half a kilometre, jumping and splashing over and under our boats.

Meet and greet the local inhabitants

The north end of the island has big granite slabs that slope down into the sea and this is where most seals congregate. The bulls are obvious, big and usually barking, they are surrounded by a harem of females. When the screams of gulls and shearwaters mingle with the bark of seals, the result is a wonderfully loud and discordant cacophony.

Swimming under our boats

We paddled along the northern shore and down the east side of the island where you never see any other boats. Even in a low swell, the east side of the island is bumpy with random haystacks as a steady current always seems to be running past.

At the south end of the island, we unfurled our sails and sat back for a fast ride to Mystery Bay in the predicted 20 knot northerly. Initially, we were sailing along briskly, but, just as quickly the wind gradually decreased and then died altogether. By the time we reached Mystery Bay, there must have been all of 1 knot of wind. It was, however, another wonderful day messing about on the ocean in a small boat.