Bass Strait Claims Victory!

Our alarms rang at 5:30 a.m. and the kids were so excited about the Ferry that they didn't require much prodding to get out of bed. Thanks to the cabin, we had no tent to pack up so we were all ready to depart very quickly after breakfast.

We drove the short distance to board the ferry and then sat immobile in a queue for 2 hours. Pap kept us supplied with CDs to listen to before he boarded with the Prado. We were almost last to embark but eventually drove on and climbed up the stairs to our cabin as the ferry departed at 9:30 a.m. Except that our booking had gone wrong and we didn't have a cabin! Feeling very Love Boat, I went to find the purser and sorted it out - with rough seas predicted, we wanted to have somewhere to lie down!

Jackson at work again!

I'll spare you the gory details, but we hit rough seas (waves of 3-5m) about 3 minutes out of Devonport, and shortly thereafter I was sick, closely followed by Gran! It was enormously cheering to think that we only had 9 hours to go! A few hours in and Gran and I both thought we could understand the passenger who had jumped off the InterIslander Ferry with her suitcase in NZ a few days before. We may have done the same but neither of us could walk to the rail, let alone carry a suitcase! The kids had gone to watch a movie, but a very pale Ella was soon brought back by the boys and plopped onto the bed next to me. The poor little possum didn't move for about 5 hours, except to ask "How much longer?" and to cover her ears at the sound of vomiting. Jackson was next and although he fought it for ages, he succumbed too.

Pap by this stage could take no more in the cabin and he left for the relative peace of the lounge, where he played cards with Marcus. The seas were enough to even make his cast-iron guts feel queasy. They said the waves were spraying up to the top decks as if a fire hose was playing on the window. One guy was talking quietly on his mobile phone when he suddenly yelled "HOLY SHIT! THAT WAS A BIG WAVE!!" as another monster smashed over the deck.

Dave then appeared within the cabin, looking green and lay down for about 5 minutes, until the chorus of vomiting made him decide rather quickly that he could do without the cabin! Pap was starting to worry that he would be the lone driver standing! We had visions of him driving one vehicle along a bit then running back for the other one!

Passing the other ferry in Bass Strait

Marcus and Lachie travelled unscathed and Marcus raced off to take photos when the Spirit of Tasmania 1 passed us. He also rather cruelly photographed us in the cabin. You don't get to see those!

We finally sailed into Port Phillip Bay and calmer waters, arriving in Melbourne about 7:30 p.m. I wobbled down to the garage deck and was incredibly glad to get off in the first wave of vehicles. A very ill Gran and Pap took a while to disembark but we managed to convoy out of Melbourne without too many dramas.

We staggered in to a campground in Kilmore well after 9 and were put into a tiny site which could only fit the caravan. We had noticed a motel across the road, so Gran, Pap, Jackson and Lachie drove off to see if they could find a room there. They didn't, so they had to find another motel. Pap said he nearly kissed the guy when he said they could have a room, despite it being after 10! Meanwhile, I was struggling with the caravan movements - it felt like the ferry again!

Bass Strait was most definitely the victor on this crossing!

Stay tuned ...