In 2007 a good friend by the name of David Edwards purchase a boat called Wanderlust.

Wanderlust is a very attractive 32 foot wooden sloop (single mast yacht) made from huon pine with celery top decking.

Wanderlust was moored near Hobart in Tasmania so I offered to help David sail her back to Wangi on Lake Macquarie where he lives.

I must admit that I was a little nervous having only sailed 16 footers on the lake and never sailed at sea.

We arrived in Hobart late November however set sail almost a week later than planned due to unfavourable winds.

The plan was to start out fairly slow while familiarising ourselves with the rigging etc. and David taught me the 'ropes'...

There are no ropes (in sailing jargon) on a boat, just sheets and lines but of course, while raising the main sail and well in sight of the previous owner's home I forgot about that.

David was at the mast hauling the sail while asking me to release the sheet.

I was staring at it thinking 'I'd better leave that rope alone, the captain (David) hasn't asked me to do that.'

After an hour or so of sailing there wasn't much wind so we motored the rest of our way down the Derwent.

The wind picked up as we rounded Bull Bay so we were able to sail up through Storm Bay arriving at Lime Bay mid-afternoon.

We anchored there overnight as we would need a good run in daylight through the canal from Dunalley to Marion Bay.

The following morning found me reading the wrong compass indicator and off course by 60 degrees.

While we lost an amount of time were still in good time to traverse the canal.

On the other hand it meant we had a strong wash pushing against the stern of the boat.

As we approached the bridge, the temperature alarm started, David radioed the bridge operator asking where to stop but he replied for us to keep going through and immediately opened the bridge.

The entrance to the waterway is quite narrow for almost a nautical mile (roughly 2km), impossible for us to turn back and too dangerous to stop.

Fortunately the alarm stopped as we entered calmer waters - a fishing boat pulled out ahead and we wanted to follow it.

We'd been warned about shallow shifting sand at the other end of the canal and advised to follow a fishing boat if at all possible.

When we entered the canal we'd had a tail wind causing the waves to push against the stern.

On leaving the wind was dead ahead of our course so we had too tack all the way to Maria Island taking somewhat longer than we had hoped.

We set out the following morning planning to anchor or possibly moor at Swansea where my brother lives.

The water was like glass so we had to motor for most of the morning.

Once the wind picked up we were able to try the main sail out reefed in on the first of two hitches.

The boat pointed up to the wind a lot better than without the reef which was helfpful as the wind was right on the nose again.

Arriving at Swansea just after 1pm, the wind was around 25 knots, the sea 1-2 metres and the coast guard had just issued a strong wind warning.

There was nowhere safe to anchor/moore so we headed east for Coals Bay on the opposite side of Great Oyster Bay from Swansea.

With almost 9 nautical miles to sail, the wind changed direction with us to be right on the nose again.

The current was almost 3 knots at right angle away from where we wanted to go.

By the time we were almost half way across, David had just lowered the main sail when we noticed some bouys - a fishing net for several miles directly along our course.

It was impossible to avoid sailing on jib alone so we came around to north and started the engine.

Within a few minutes the exhaust blew, the overheating alarm went off and the wind changed onto the nose again.

I was stunned when David insisted on putting the main sail back up, the wind was over 30 knots by this stage.

The wind kept roughly north easterly making it impossible to get to refuge in Coles Bay.

This didn't phase David, he kept sailing despite the starboard gunnel being entirely underwater, directly into the narrowest entrance to Promise Bay.

At the last minute he started the engine and we dropped the sails.

At first I thought David was going to beach her but at what seemed dangerously close to shore he got me to drop the anchor and release all chain and warp.

He reversed the boat back until he was sure the anchor was tight.

When we spoke to the coast guard on the radio we found that we were in what they call the funnel.

The wind was accelerated to about 45 or more knots but at least it was a constant direction.

So there we were, drenched, most of our gear drenched, the cabin covered in black diesel soot and the last of our food drenched.

The solution - 2 nips of scotch in a cup of tea each, then crash out on our respective bunks pretending they were dry and warm.