Crossing the Bar

While it is a metaphor, an acknowledgement for having passed away, a gentle crossing of the bar from the safety of harbour and out into the wide blue yonder, the irony cannot be lost. I have no idea how many people, sailors, fishermen, passengers have died when their ship has foundered over the centuries since ships first began navigating our coastline, but according to ‘Uncle Google,’ 153 people have drowned in bar-crossing incidents since 1980.

In August this year, three people died when their vessel capsized crossing the Riverton bar. Two weeks later, a life was lost on the Catlins River bar near New Haven.

“Ours is the most dangerous bar in the whole country, perhaps even the world.”

Often heard over an ale or two as if by crossing that bar adds extra kudos to their seafaring prowess.

A green as grass deckie and about to experience my first bar way back last century, the Skipper, a well-regarded West Coast fisherman said to me, “there are only two types of bars, son.

“The dangerous bastards, and the really dangerous f__kers.”

Glassy calm, a slight heave, a set pushing us across the Tipheads, I was told to watch out aft and keep my eye peeled for any curly ones coming in. It was all quiet on the Western Front until my shouted expletive alerted the Old Man.

One slab-sided greenie had reared from nowhere and now we were surfing, broaching wildly, going sideways towards the rocks. The Skipper had wrung the neck of that old Niigata, black smoke pouring from the stack. Laid over on her beam ends, I was standing with both feet on the lee rail of the Monkey Island convinced she wasn’t coming back, tossing up whether to stay or step off onto the rocks, because from where I was, they looked close enough.

The David Baker clawed her way past the south Tip Head, got hit again and we went through sideways between the Tip Heads before the Skipper could get her head around and we surfed gracefully into the river.

Not much was said when we passed lines up and made her fast. Roy was as white as a hospital sheet. A couple of the boys were standing there, quietly sucking on fags, and me, my gut was telling me we really had dodged a bullet. Our period of quiet contemplation was broken when a bloke approached with a camera in hand.

“Awesome shots, guys!

“Fantastic. Thanks.”

We all stared at him.

“Lost 20 bucks though, huh.

“Thought you were a goner.”

I can’t recall who whacked him but I’m pretty sure he was still lying there as we wandered up Gresson Street to the Gilmer.

I believe the North Island has more bar crossings, the frigid conditions and rough waters of the mainland often mean when things went wrong, they can go very wrong.

So, what is a bar?

It is an elevated area of sediment, usually sand or gravel, that has been deposited by the outward flow of water. Mid-channel or braid bars are common in braided rivers. Point bars are more common in meandering rivers, and of course, the elephant in the room, mouth bars where a river empties into the sea.

Bars are ever changing, growing, eroding, moving and changing shape and no two days are the same, often as quickly as six-hourly with every turn of the tide. The location, size, shape and available depth of water over a bar depends on the volume and velocity of the outward flow of water, the volume and type of sediment being carried, and how far it can be carried before it settles out.

Onshore weather conditions, tidal ranges, coastal currents or sets, wind and sea states pushing against the outward flow of water also influence on where, and how much of the sediment load is deposited.

If you’ve never crossed one or have limited experience as I do, what is it you don’t do? I spoke to Allan Rooney, a commercial fisherman with a great deal of experience working both the Westport and Grey River bars.

It’s more than just a 9 to 5 job, a deep sea career with us sets you up with skills for life that’ll take you anywhere in the world.

The adventure begins after onshore training, when you get your first chance to go to sea working on one of the largest deepsea fleets in the country. All new crew begin on the factory deck doing a variety of jobs preparing fish for our international customers.

Choose your career path – factory management, deck crew, engineering, an officer, and ultimately a skipper if you want. And that’s just at sea. After your sea training the career opportunities with Talley’s are as wide as the horizon.

“I won’t go out over the bar without looking at it Chris, because it can change between dinner time and tea time, only a few hours I know but it can be a whole different ball game,” he said.

“If I’m not sure, or for whatever reason I’m a bit wary, I’ll ring someone in town and they will go and have a look for me, if they say hang to high tide, well I’ll hang out till high tide.”

The amount of rainfall in the catchment, the moon phase and height of tide, onshore weather conditions, tidal sets around the mouth of the river or harbour, all play a part in shaping the bar, or bars, and the conditions over them.

“Most of the set down this coast is from the south to the north, hence why you have Farewell Spit, the sand being pushed up the coast and around to form the spit,” said Allan,

“So, when we talk about pristine bottoms, it’s a heaving, moving mass but 12 to 24 hours before a front leaves Aussie, the sea will go flat, and it’ll turn and run to the south.

“So, when you’re coming in, in shit conditions, the set is from the north.

“We’d not had a lot of rain to flush out the river.

“Normally the bar is a pinnacle, you know, up and down but I was coming in the other day about 40 minutes before high tide and it come up and was a flat for a good 80 to 100 metres in there between the tip heads, you know.

“That’s how much rain, or the lack thereof, can affect it.”

What do you look for in wave patterns before you decide to cross?

“Normally they come through in sets of three and five, mostly threes,” explained Allan.

“I’ll sit about a mile off and l time them coming through.

“It might be five or seven minutes.

“I know how long it’ll take to do a mile at eight knots when I take off, so I’ll creep in to half a mile off and let the bigger ones go through than give her heaps and ride the last one in.”

So, what do you make of these rec boaties heading out to chase bluefin?

“Over enthusiastic would be my opinion of that behaviour,” said Allan.

“Education before drowning, mate, it’s as simple as that”.

“My advice to them is just don’t jump in your boat and take off, go and have a look at the bar.

“My other advice is having a VHF radio as well as your cell phone, in a bag in case it gets wet, proper life jackets that’ll keep your afloat and upright, an EPIR or at least a PLB, flares and get in touch with someone before you go and tell them when you’re due back.”

Allan will often ‘make himself known’ to those in the Blacktown lagoon, offering his advice freely for those willing to listen.

“So, you’re going out for bluefin?” he’ll ask.

“Yep.”

“Well, its easterly 25 so I wouldn’t be going anywhere near that Trench son if I were you,” Allan will tell them.

“Why?”

“Because it funnels out of the Grey Valley, and it’ll be nasty out there, anything over 15 knots, stay on your trailer because the weather can change that quick out there,” he’ll say.

If you do get caught out there, Allan’s advice is not to try and make Greymouth but make a bee line for Hokitika and at about two mile off, turn northwards and run along the beach to Greymouth.

“It’ll be a far better ride and if it’s a dirty south westerly and you get caught out there and if you’re carrying enough fuel, then head to Cape Foulwind,” he said.

“You can anchor just around the cape or go into Westport.

“If it’s got anything to do with a west or northerly in it, then you can forget about Westport and when you’re coming in unless the sea is dead flat, I wouldn’t be looking at anything under half tide.

“I still won’t go in at low tide even if its flat calm, unless it’s an emergency, so, half tide on, and unless its flat, full tide.

“Brian Piner told me a long time ago, if there’s a breaking sea on a bar and its more than one and a half times the beam of your boat, and you are side on, you’re pretty much f__ked!

“Most of us commercial guys are only too happy to help if someone wants to go out for a play”.

“They’ve just got to ask, that’s all.”

Remember the old chestnut?

There are bold fishermen and old fishermen, but never an old, bold fishermen. There is no such thing as an expert on a bar, but there are many with a heap of experience willing to offer advice. All you must do is ask.

There are many forums where boaties can ask for advice.

Chris Carey

To summarize, never take it for granted.

• Check you and your crew are fit to go to sea and that you, your crew and your boat have all the appropriate LSA, fuel, parts for the trip.
• Always wear lifejackets. Common-sense stuff I know, but common-sense is a rare commodity these days. The two chaps picked up out of the water recently when their boat became tangled in a pelagic trawl off Hokitika weren’t wearing any.
• Take two forms of communication, one of which should be a VHF with Dual Watch capability, a personal locator beacon, or a mobile phone in a waterproof pouch.
• Check the weather. If it looks suspect, or likely to change while you’re out, or some grizzled old fishermen along the wharf advises against it, don’t go.
• Have a look at the bar.
• Look for the areas where the water is deeper, and the seas aren’t breaking or breaking as bad.
• Avoid crossing at low tide, high tide preferably.
• Knowing your capabilities, which includes your boat. If you’re thinking, can I or can’t I, then put it back on the trailer.

OUT ON THE SOUTHERN OCEAN IT’S PART JOB, PART JOURNEY.

It’s more than just a 9 to 5 job, a deep sea career with us sets you up with skills for life that’ll take you
anywhere in the world.

The adventure begins after onshore training, when you get your first chance to go to sea working on one of the largest deepsea fleets in the country. All new crew begin on the factory deck doing a variety of jobs preparing fish for our international customers.

Choose your career path – factory management, deck crew, engineering, an officer, and ultimately a skipper if you want. And that’s just at sea. After your sea training the career opportunities with Talley’s are as wide as the horizon.