How to ride a jet ski from Australia to Papua New Guinea

Then one of the Australian Customs agents who stamped our passports advised it was a bad idea, checking that we planned to take every precaution on the journey – and once the group arrived.

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With winds due to pick up over the coming days, the weather conditions weren’t the only concern.

Daru, an island off the southeast coast of Papua New Guinea, is the capital of the Western Province, the poorest region of the country.

The bloke in charge of the petrol and the woman driving the minibus, who happened to be his wife, had both lived in PNG on and off over the past couple of decades, but returned to Australia because they increasingly felt in danger – and conditions were deteriorating.

On the TV news the week before our trip there were reports of rebels on mainland PNG killing women and children as part of a tribal war. There was grim footage of the aftermath.

This partly explains why, at the 6am roll call ready to hit the water before sunrise (with such a long ride to PNG, there needed to be a buffer in case of mechanical problems, injuries or navigational errors) two of the 14 riders opted to stay behind and rejoin the group once they returned to Thursday Island.

Perhaps the jokes about ending up being held for ransom played on my mind. I could also barely move after the previous day’s nine-hour ride.

We had travelled 300km by jet ski from Weipa to Thursday Island. That run was largely sheltered from strong southeasterly winds by the west coast of Cape York, but it was still challenging, and some bodies were already starting to feel the toll.

Despite everyone having ocean-riding experience, few riders on this trip had travelled more than 180km on a jet ski in a single day. This was going to be three long days in a row for a total distance of 780km over open ocean. Normally it would take a week to travel this far by jet ski.

The run to Daru and back would be 480km (240km each way across Torres Strait) after the initial 300km ride from Weipa to Thursday Island the day before. In hindsight, a one-day breather might have helped.

The Torres Strait crossing is, of course, in open waters. Adding to the challenge, the wind was due to increase from 15 knots to 25 to 30 knots over the coming days.

As one of the two riders who erred on the side of caution and elected to stay at Thursday Island, it turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

When we returned to the dock in the dark before the group left for PNG, my riding buddy’s jet ski was half sunk. Its nose was up, but the air inside the spare fuel cans on the back was the only thing keeping the rest of it afloat.

With only seconds to make the decision – and only minutes to spare before the group left Thursday Island – we transferred his essentials to my jet ski so he could continue the trip.

The two of us, plus a mate who caught the ferry to Thursday Island from Seisia in far northern Queensland, spent most of the day trying to get my mate’s jet ski to float again so we could continue the rest of the journey around the tip of Australia and down the east coast to Port Douglas.

The hull was not cracked, so it was a mystery how water was getting in. We thought we traced the leak to a locating bolt from the fuel rack on the back, but that wasn’t the cause either.

Despite the incredible effort from the two Perth boys – one of whom was a mechanic – the half-sunk jet ski (with the hull now drained empty) wasn’t going anywhere.

As this story was written, the injured craft was on a barge from Thursday Island to Cairns ready to be taken by road back to Sydney to unearth the cause.

The barge wasn’t our first choice of transport, though. Old mate from Perth attempted to tow the dead jet ski from Thursday Island to Seisia on the mainland behind his jet ski.

But as the dead jet ski continued to fill with water, it became too heavy and snapped the tow rope countless times. Temporarily abandoned somewhere between Thursday Island and Seisia, we notified police and the marine authorities before attempting yet another recovery operation.

A local boatie, however, got to the dead jet ski before we did, towed it to a nearby island, and then tried to claim ownership under maritime law.

When that wasn’t going to wash, he tried to hit the owner up for a new outboard motor because he said his took a hammering while trying to tow it back – even though no-one had asked him to. It turns out there are still pirates on the seas of Australia, but they don’t wear eye patches and silly hats.

While all this was going on, the riders making the trip across Torres Strait to PNG were having a battle with the weather.

The winds had picked up as forecast, slower riders in the group were dropping back and getting spread out, and dark clouds made it difficult to read the shape of the waves in the one- to two-metre swell.

When the group eventually made it to a section with some relief from the swell – the 70km long and 10km wide Warrior Reef about two-thirds of the way along the journey – the clouds made it difficult to see how shallow it was. They also didn’t get to see the reef’s colours in all their glory.

Once in Daru, the jet skis arrived to a hero’s welcome. Thousands of locals came out to cheer them in.

After the nine-hour, 240km run in tough conditions, the jet ski riders – with help from locals – then had what amounted to a four-hour gym session plugging their way through mud and water, lifting jet skis onto forklift pallets, and then carting by hand dozens of 20-litre jerry cans. It wasn’t an ideal way to recover from an epic ride, but there was no other option.

With the jet skis being guarded by locals who appreciate Australian currency, the riders retired to the sanctuary of a spartan hotel located behind a barbed wire fence – and with an armed guard out front.

The shower had the intensity of a water-spray bottle and some riders slept on the floor because the hotel was overbooked – despite reservations being in place for months.

Dinner was crayfish and rice. After a day of eating muesli bars and sweets on the water, it was a well-earned feast.

With the help of charity sponsors, freight companies Sea Swift (on the water) and Blenners (on the road) – both of whom are transport specialists for Far North Queensland and beyond – the group of jet ski riders was able to hand over 800kg worth of donated clothes to PNG families.

Early the next morning, the riders reversed the previous night’s process by getting all the jet skis back in the mud and, eventually, water.

The jet skis were heavier this time because their 70-litre fuel tanks were full plus each jet ski had at least another 60 litres on the back. It was hard going and not the ideal way to start a 240km jet ski ride on the ocean.

The winds and the swell had picked up further, the clouds still made it difficult to read the conditions, and the reef didn’t seem to provide as much relief as it did the day before. Adding to their woes, conditions worsened as the day went on and each rider became more tired.

Eventually, they made it back to Thursday Island after what every rider described as the hardest jet ski ride they’d ever done.

The bravest participant of all, though, was Chelsea Brown, the 16-year-old daughter of one of the organisers – and likely the youngest person to ever make such a crossing in Australian international waters.

An accomplished horse rider, Chelsea has only been riding jet skis for a few years. She did a week of ocean riding in this year’s Variety Jet Trek, but she said these were the toughest conditions she’s experienced.

“Horse riding gave me a lot of fitness to do this but it doesn’t work your arms as hard as jet ski riding does,” said Chelsea, from Sydney. “It was definitely the hardest jet ski riding I’ve ever done.

“I’m glad that part’s over, put it that way. We just didn’t get as much relief on the way back as we did on the way there. The skis were just putting their nose into the middle of the waves, all the way.”

The group was thrown a new obstacle once they made it back to Thursday Island to get their passports stamped. The petrol pump near the wharf was closed, so they had to ride – on fumes – another 30km or so to Roko Island, near Punsand Bay just south of the northernmost tip of Australia.

Two of the 12 riders pulled up at Thursday Island exhausted and spent the night there before catching up with the group later.

Another rider went to hospital at Bamaga a day after returning to the mainland to get his legs treated for abrasions from riding the jet ski. He was told not to ride for the rest of the trip.

Three other riders also put their watercraft on a trailer once back on the mainland at Seisia, but only after we made a symbolic journey around The Tip of Australia on our jet skis.

Following a night on Roko Island and then at Punsand Bay, the rest of the group headed south to the remote Captain Billy’s Landing campground.

By this stage only six of the 14 jet skis were still on the water, with most riders wisely giving their battered and bruised bodies a rest. It turns out ice wasn’t just being used to keep food and beer cold, it was helping sore limbs recover.

After a day of rest and two nights of camping on the edge of the ocean – and with winds picking up yet again – another jet ski was pulled off the beach before the start of the next leg, bringing the field down to five.

The attrition was a sign of several factors. Firstly, ocean riding is physically a lot harder than it looks. All of the riders were experienced in open water, but nothing can prepare you for a trip like this.

It’s the Ninja Warrior, Ironman Triathlon or Everest (or whatever analogy you prefer) of jet ski riding. The footage you see tends to be taken in the all-too-rare calm conditions because it’s too difficult to operate a camera in strong winds and a two-metre swell.

There was also a toll on some of the machines. One jet ski finished its run early having taken on water despite no obvious signs of hull damage, two hulls eventually fractured after previous repairs and a lot of prior hours of ocean riding, and one jet ski started to run on three cylinders instead of four after a problem with a wiring loom.

Regardless of the setbacks, the journey rolled on after riders taking a break from the water allowed others with injured jet skis to continue. It is why every rider deserves kudos for starting the journey in Weipa in the first place.

However, the final five riders (whittled down to four after one more retirement on the second-last day) who completed the entire two-week journey from Weipa to PNG to Port Douglas, clearly eat concrete for breakfast.

It is not just the punishment on the water that makes this trip so difficult, it’s the logistics and physical challenge of getting fuel into the jet skis in remote places. You also need just as many people in the road crew to support the jet ski riders – all while encountering difficult conditions on land, often without phone range or amenities.

It’s been six years since the first successful documented crossing by jet ski from Thursday Island to Daru (a group of four riders did it in 2013). It may well be another six years before it happens again. If it does, prepare for one hell of an adventure.

Why did they do it?

The ride was to raise awareness for Sarz Sanctuary, a charity set up to help the families of terror attack and murder victims. It was established by the parents of Sara Zelenak, a 21-year-old Australian killed in the London terror attacks in June 2017.

Zelenak was one of two Australians among the eight people killed and 48 injured. While the two Australian women did not know each other, 28-year-old nurse Kirsty Boden, from South Australia, was killed as she ran towards danger in an attempt to help others who were injured.

Zelenak was part of a Queensland-based ocean-riding jet ski family. Her father Mark Wallace was among the four who did the trip from Thursday Island to PNG in 2013. He was road crew this year.

What kind of jet skis were they?

Of the 14 jet skis that started the trip, 13 were Yamahas. Of those, 12 were the non-supercharged FX HO models powered by a 1.8-litre four-cylinder engine, while one of the Yamahas was an FX SVHO powered by a supercharged 1.8-litre four-cylinder engine. Despite concerns about fuel range, the supercharged FX SVHO made it to PNG and back.

The only non-Yamaha was a Kawasaki Ultra 310R powered by a supercharged 1.5-litre four-cylinder engine. It too did not run out of fuel, despite being supercharged.

All the jet skis were equipped with custom made racks that could carry at least three 20-litre jerry cans in addition to the standard 70-lite fuel tanks (78 litres in the Kawasaki).

The riders were from West Australia, New South Wales and Queensland.

What provisions did they take?

All jet ski riders wore a personal locator beacon (PLB) and a handheld marine radio on their life vest and carried flares and an EPIRB on the watercraft.

Everyone had a mobile phone and portable charger although there was no phone range.

Two of the riders had satellite phones and two had detailed navigation map screens attached to their jet skis.

Some riders wore backpacks with water bladders, while others stowed half a dozen water bottles for the trip there and the trip back.

How much fuel did they use?

Jet skis drink between 55 and 65 litres every 100 kilometres, almost as much as a V8 Supercar around Bathurst. In most cases, everyone tried to ride efficiently but the weight of the jet skis and the trying conditions made it difficult to be miserly.