Sydney to Hobart and back 2011/2
Already the events of the last 3 weeks are coalescing into a warm but fuzzy memory and I have only been off the Yacht for 3 hours. Actually it was a yacht I had never heard of until 2 weeks ago and one which I was not meant to be on. Perhaps a brief explanation will help. I run a sailing company and race yachts, last year I put several crew members on Helsal 3 a 66’ yacht for the Sydney Hobart and this year was meant to be skippering her. A series of events culminating with the withdrawal of the sponsors put paid to our plans and having already completed the other big Australian race to Lord Howe Island (coming first) I resigned myself to missing the 2011 Sydney to Hobart race. Then came a phone call at 0545 in early December which my wife, Judith, answered; having elderly relatives, phone calls in the night cause some anxiety and this was no exception. A voice from the other end asked for Paul and explained he was calling from Australia. Judith passed me the phone and, as I was still waking, I was asked to be No 2 on Kioni, a 47 foot yacht, for the Sydney to Hobart race. At this stage I made a mistake by instantly agreeing prior to obtaining marital consent, but this was not referred to by the aggrieved party on more than 50 occasions.
An uneventful trip out saw me on board for the start of a weeks training although it was obvious that delays in putting Kioni back in the water meant some preparatory works still needed doing.
A few last minute team changes and an unexpected requirement to do a 24hr qualifying passage meant we were not as well prepared as we would have liked, but on Boxing Day morning we joined the fleet of almost 100 and in front of a crowd of over 200,000 plus numerous TV stations we set off.
One of the high profile teams was skippered by Jessica Watson, the youngest person to sail solo round the world, and their yacht had similar performance to ours. We soon experienced problems with the navigation computer but solved this by simply following young Jess with her fully sponsored top of the range kit. Things looked good, the conditions suited us and we slowly overhauled her, then quite a few others, as we ran parallel with the coast down towards Tassie.
A couple of problems now beset us; firstly the engine wouldn’t start which meant we couldn’t charge the batteries needed for the navigation, pumps, lights, radio etc; also as the swell increased several team members were sea sick. But we were easily in the top half of the fleet and looking good.
The wind continued to increase and this was to our advantage but it was clear we were now taking on water and as a lot was coming over the top this seemed the obvious source. We continued on, beating into strong winds, nothing like the 50+ kts of 2010 but still uncomfortable for us, but even more so for the lighter yachts, some of which were now starting to retire with damage.
Skippering a yacht in the Sydney Hobart had been an ambition of mine for several years but I had rather have not ended up in charge due to the skipper being incapacitated and I was relieved that Andrey was a final year medic was part of the team. The problem was not life threatening but knocked Rowan out for about 15 hours.
The wind continued just below gale force and we struggled on after changing to a smaller headsail, the previous one was secured to the rail but started to work lose as the water swept over it. With half of the sail now trailing in the sea Max and Ashley went forward to manhandle it back on board. As they did so a larger than average wave came over the top, picked Max up then deposited him, still with his lifeline clipped on, but now standing on top of the sail but in the water, up to his waist and doing 8 knots. I put the helm hard over to stop Kioni and as she hove to the down side of the yacht rose rapidly complete with the attached sail. Max went up in the air, Ashley fielded him and he landed back on board with only minimal dampness. Whilst he was safely recovered it drove home the point that a working engine could be very useful when recovering a man over board and we did not have one. There are only a few possible ports to put into on the east coast of New South Wales and faced with a yacht that appeared to be slowly sinking, a poorly skipper, several sea sick crew and no engine I picked Eden, then 80 miles away, as a port of refuge and went for it.
Eden is a large well sheltered bay which, had the railways of Australia developed differently, might have become more important than Sydney. As we entered its sheltered waters things improved, Rowan recovered, we bailed out over a ton of water by hand and found the leaking broken impeller housing. We mange to by-pass the engine solenoid that had jammed closing the fuel line and in the calmer waters most of the sea sick members rallied. All was well, so whilst we had lost at least 6 hours we set off back into the race.
We beat our way ever south across the notorious Bass Strait and down the east coast of Tasmania towards Tasman Island to see its spectacular hexagonal basalt organ pipes at sunset. Then it was on into the night and along the south of Tasmania into Storm Bay, where we were becalmed for a couple of hours before the wind gently returned and we sailed up the river Derwent to cross the line 68th overall.
Hobart is rather busy at New Year’s Eve and there are lots of yachties about but I was still surprised by how many people I knew and we settled down for a serious New Year’s Eve party with the spectacular fireworks for which the city is known. Then it was back to work as I had agreed to skipper a friend’s yacht back up to Sydney.
Assembling a crew proved easier than expected and my best find was Roy an Israeli Yacht Master who was out on a back packing holiday. Cindy a Dutch sailing Instructor had been part of the Kioni team and she also joined together with 3 less experienced sailors as we readied ‘Dodo’ a Sydney 38 for her return.
Sydney 38s are an all out racing boat and not at all comfortable in a gale so we watched the unfolding weather patterns and the predicted gales with some concern. We were due for 2 sets of gales with a window of less than 24 hrs between them in which to cross the Bass Strait.
The run back along the south of Tasmania across Storm Bay was simple but shortly after we rounded Tasman Island the wind increased and came from just where we wanted to go. We slogged on against 30 kts through the night and finally made the beautiful Wineglass Bay in early afternoon where we met up with Merit a Volvo 60. Claiming to be one of the 10 most beautiful beaches in the world, Wineglass Bay was indeed an idyllic spot, but with a large swell running in, it was not somewhere we could anchor. Many of the features of Tasmania were named by Captain Cook and a few miles north lay Sleepy Bay so in the absence of any local knowledge we set of for it followed by Merit who was passing us updated weather information. Good old Captain Cook we spent a quiet night tucked under cliffs in the corner of the aptly named bay.
The timing of the gales had changed and we needed to run up the east coast with one behind us but first we had to get into the tiny fisherman’s wharf at Bichenou and get fuel and water. With no detailed chart and in an area where positions cannot be plotted accurately on a chart by GPS this was going to be fun. Fortunately Roy on the bow was superb at spotting rocks and we crept in over a rocky bar and tied up with about half a metre spare under the keel.
The fuel station (Servo in Aussie) was about half a kilometre away but a couple of generous tourists saw our predicament and kindly drove us to and from the Servo whist others filled with water ready for the crossing.
We had only just left the tiny port when the gale started and soon we were hitting over 13 kts with tiny sails up and over 40 kts of breeze. By keeping close to the shore we were in fairly small waves and making good progress, but at some stage we would have to head about 20 miles out into deeper water to avoid the notoriously rough water where the strait was narrower, shallower plus the current coming south down the east coast meets the one coming east across the south coast of Australia.
The forecast was accurate and just as we started to sail away from the shore the wind dropped back to a modest 25 kts and then slowly decreased for the next 12 hours. With 100 miles to go to round Gabo Island and reach the comparative shelter of the mainland coast things looked good. As we rounded the island the wind started to build and soon we were surfing along at up to 15 kts with a gale behind us and a 3 metre swell. The weather forecast had changed though and a new gale from the North east was forecast for about 36 hrs time. After a quick check on water levels we pressed on past Eden instead of stopping and went all out for Sydney some 240 miles north reaching its shelter about 8 hours before the promised gale occurred and delivering Dodo back safely a day earlier than anticipated.
Lord Howe Island Blog
First Yacht in–line honours–3rd overall on handicap–full report in a few days.
It’s the Tuesday before the race which starts on Saturday and it is raining which makes a pleasant change from yesterday’s 35C. Andy and I are sat on board ‘The Stick’ a 22m racing machine in Rushcutters Bay, Sydney. How we came to be here is a story in itself, but here we are and getting ready for the annual race to Lord Howe Island some 400 miles out into the Pacific from Australia’s east coast. The skippers name is Rick Christian and he is a descendant of Mr Christian from Mutiny on the Bounty so at least there is some sailing pedigree in the blood.
Until a few months ago I had only vaguely heard of Lord Howe Island but now I know it is a beautiful, world heritage site and rather exclusive holiday destination with the flight from Sydney costing visitors over £1000 return.
We are not flying, though ‘The Stick’ has recorded over 30 kts of boat speed several times and we are hoping to cover the 420 Nm in less than 48 hrs. We arrived on Friday and, despite jet lag, had 2 reasonable days practice over the weekend. We also saw our first whale, about 100m off it was big but surfaced so briefly that could not identify the species.
Sunday night and Cliff our navigator has taken us to a Pub in Bondi to watch the World Cup, it was a Kiwi Pub and there was little doubt which side to support.
Yesterday, Monday, we were helping get the boat ready doing safety inspections etc and we should finish this today which leaves only the re-installation of the pump for the water ballast to be done. I have never used water ballast before and am very interested in seeing the effects of being able to move 2 tons of water between 6 tanks to improve stability.
Last year Andy, my Fastnet No. 2 and I were on Helsal 3 for the Sydney Hobart and we quickly learnt that Tasmanian for Project Management was ‘She’ll be right mate’, the approach on the Stick is rather different and, with some stress, things are clearly coming together within the required timescale.
Tuesday and nothing is due to happen until noon so off to central Sydney which is about 15 minutes walk. As Cities go Sydney, with the bridge and opera house, must be near the top of the list but I am not a City person so was happy to be back on board and working again. The pump had arrived, it has to move 2 tons of water through 4 inch pipes and I guess it weighs about 200kg so getting it in position down below involved winching it up on a halyard easing it on board and then easing it down below. I volunteer for the winch and let Rick assume responsibility for what happens if it goes wrong and we end up playing conkers with 200kg on a 25m string—after all it’s his boat!
Several hours later plus considerable use of a common language and we finally have the beast in its lair, which is a very confined space next to the engine with only one metre headroom. The acid test and I have the dubious honour off throwing the switch; the pump runs and moves the water but not as fast as we need. It is now getting dark so with some scratching of heads and a couple of beers we decide to leave it till tomorrow afternoon. Kings Cross used to be the rougher/ red light district of Sydney and it is still not that smooth, but it is only 5 minutes walk and we have found a lovely little Thai restaurant that is more affordable than many, so it has become our regular.
Wednesday and after receiving several new ropes for the race we are off walking to Bondi. The new sheets (ropes or in racing terms string) for the Genoas are 14 mm Dyneema which has a breaking strain of over 10 tons which gives an idea of how much power the sails can generate. Andy and Cliff, Ricks’ No 2 have been working away in the Nav station at the stern installing the new navigation system. The station has 4 foot headroom so I am glad I am not the navigator.
The afternoon passed in a flurry of odd jobs with me concentrating on sail repairs and Andy on electronics, then at 1800 we were out on the race circuit in Sydney Harbour to see if everything worked. They didn’t, we have an issue with the gate valves on the water ballast and it may not be simple.
Racing in Sydney Harbour is quite an experience, the Opera House and Bridge provided a marvellous backdrop and the remains of the day’s sea breeze saw us achieving up to 12 kts as we put the Stick through her paces. Several former team members had joined us for the race and the bar of the Cruising Yacht Club of Australia (CYCA) had a very lucrative night.
Thursday morning seemed to arrive too early but, as weren’t working on board until noon a walk into central Sydney helped wear off our excesses. One thing we really have noticed is how considerate motorists are, you only have to be close to a Zebra crossing for cars to stop—Australian tourists must seem a very easy target to French drivers. Also a couple of times we have stopped to consult the map and people have asked us where we were trying to go.
On the Thursday evening we went up to Gosford sailing club for the race briefing which was attended by the Aus Met Office, Coastguard, Police etc. Actually there were almost as many officials as competitors—perhaps because it is the only annual Ocean race in Australia (the Sydney Hobart is only classified as Offshore). A good look at the opposition convinces us we can win.
The weather forecast which had looked good now looks rather worse but nothing too serious. The final preparations have been made and Andy even had time to compete in a local bi-athlon the evening before the race. Then it is back to the CYCA where we meet Jerry another crew member and have an accident with 2 bottles of red wine and miss out on free oysters and champagne on another yacht—probably as well.
Saturday morning at 0800 and we are off up to broken Bay, unlike last year we are quite well prepared and we even have a proper safety brief. Normally the most stressful period of a race is the few minutes before the start but everything is going well and the Police have their little gunboat ready for a Shot gun start. I have never experienced a shotgun start before and it seems neither had the starter who did not understand the significance of firing off the second shot just after the first and was probably confused when the entire fleet turned back to the start. After some further confusion, and probably some embarrassment as the Commissioner of Police was on board we eventually stared about 15 minutes late.
We were first across the line and set off well raising a spinnaker after a few minutes; escorted by spectator boats we sped up the coast leaving most of the fleet behind until we rounded the first mark and then completely ran out of wind. The rest of the fleet closed on us and then we all ended up without wind for half an hour before the effectively restarted the race.
The navigation for the race is more complex than some as you have to contend with the East Australian Current and the huge eddies it develops around two sea mounts that come from 4000m deep to 70m below surface. On board we had a computerised navigation system which overlaid the wind forecast onto the currents to give an optimal route; this had superb screens and , if the forecast had been right, would have produced a result. We sailed on with a rising wind throughout the day and it was the strength which had been forecast, it did not change direction as forecast however and we continued to race in 25 kts of wind all night long and most of the next day. As the second night approach the wind was still 25 kts from the North instead of from the SW and rising so we had to reef (reduce the area) of the mainsail, this was not an easy procedure and benefitted from someone fairly tall who could stand on a winch and just reach the boom to tie off the spare sail with a tie to stop it flapping around and destroying itself. When we had reefed before this had been one of my tasks but we had 2 watches and mine was down below sleeping so Rick the Skipper went out along the boom on a double length safety line to sort the sail ties. With the wind gusting to over 30 kts the Stick was sailing easily under water ballast but still being knocked by a few larger than average waves which came right over the deck. One of these hit us and Rick bounced on his ribs on the wire rail 6 foot below the boom before going over the side. We were travelling at over 10 knots and for a few seconds he surfed backwards on the end of the safety lines before he could grab the rail and haul himself back in.
Attempts to change the head sail at change of watch were frustrated by a combination of a jammed luff rope in the forestay at the front of the yacht and a sudden worsening of sea state near one of the seam mounts. The Stick is 22m long and has a low freeboard so life at the pointy end was quite difficult and the youngsters were struggling. This meant that Jerry and I, both the top end of 50, had to go and sort the problem, a unique blend of age experience and immaturity, within 15 minutes we sorted it. It was a very wet and battering 15 minutes which Andy a fit young tri-athlon competitor kindly videoed from the comparative comfort of the cockpit. There’s no fool like an old fool.
At 0600 and 1800 each day all competitors had to report their positions so we knew we were leading and our progress was fast, in fact faster as we had now abandoned the fancy navigation software and the inaccurate weather forecast. At dawn on Monday we could see Lord Howe Island’s volcanic cones rising out of the Ocean to over 2000 feet and the volcanic tooth of Balls Pyramid to the south. Around 0730 we called the Island on the radio only to learn there was a problem on one of our closest competitors Frantic plus another yacht. On Frantic the skipper had also fallen but had landed in the cockpit dislocating his shoulder and puncturing the capsule of his knee joint. Despite his crews efforts they could not get his shoulder back in so he had to finish the last 10 hours off race on morphine as there is no helicopter rescue this far off land and no lifeboats. The other casualty was just a simple fracture of an arm.
The finish at LHI is close to a reef and we had difficulty locating the mark and transit lights but eventually we found it (you cannot rely on GPS positions for LHI particularly as the coral reefs keep changing). We crossed the finish line first and before the race organisers were ready so had to sail around for half an hour before being met and piloted through a small gap in the reef. After being moved by the organisers we had just moored for the second time when the forecast South westerly came through 36 hours late. Fortunately we were moored as with over 30 kts of breeze the water churned so much that coral heads capable of ripping the bottom out of the Stick became invisible.
After a wet run ashore and transfer to our accommodation a few beers followed. Several things were now becoming clear about LHI, these included that when it wasn’t raining hard it is one of the most beautiful Islands in the world and that hotel rooms didn’t have keys—they didn’t need them, plus there was no mobile phone coverage at all as the islanders had voted against it. The team re-assembled at Humpty Micks a bar/ restaurant overlooking the lagoon. We had won the race convincingly for line honours but with the wind now coming at 30 kts from the SW the slower yachts must surely catch us on handicap as they came in under spinnakers which doubled their speed.
During the lsat day of the race we had become aware of electrical issues on board and with the assistance of the Islanders we were trying to resolve these. We had identified the Alternator as the problem so this was removed and brought ashore.—no mean effort as our mooring was a mile off the landing point in the deepest part of the lagoon and it was still blowing 30 kts. With only 250 islanders the knowledge base was limited but we eventually located a former British Tank Mechanic digging a ditch who rebuilt it for us in his lunch hour. Had the alternator been the problem this would have been the solution but it was not. A new Alternator was flown out 2 days later from Sydney (everything costs £4 a kilo for freight) but when we fitted this it only confirmed that it wasn’t the Alternator after all.
The help provided by the Islanders was superb, we borrowed a large generator and heaved it on board with their assistance, we were given a spare battery, people took photos of our electrical bits and e-mailed them to the mainland then phoned seeking advice, official bikes were loaned to us and we had numerous lifts with parts and supplies. To Rick a Norfolk Islander this seemed normal but to the rest of us the assistance without expectation of payment was remarkable.
Other yachts also received assistance and 2 had to anchor in the lee of the island as they could not get into the Lagoon at night. One had a snagged anchor and the Royal Australian Navy sent down divers to free it, they also ferried their crews ashore and back. The Navy ship was only there because the Commander had a medical problem and needed a Doctor. The Islanders (and it appeared) most Aussies are fiercely proud of their armed services so the now recovered Commander ended up having to present the prizes. As well as picking up the main trophy for first yacht home, a magnificent solid silver cup we also picked up 2 others trophies and rounded off a very satisfactory day with pies and peas at the bowling club.
After the night at the ‘Bowlo’ there was no moon and it became clear to us that there were no street lights at all. Returning to our accommodation now became an issue; the island is largely still sub tropical jungle and teems with mutton birds that dig burrows for the unwary to fall into. I made it back without problems but Nathan from Melbourne decided on a short cut through the woods. About an hour after he had left Andy was coming back when a figure stumbled out of the woods covered in blood and foliage—Nathan had made about 100yds in an hour and was grateful for the assistance he then received to make it home.
Whilst at the Bowlo we had ben told we must visit Neds beach and feed the fish by hand. The next afternoon, whilst waiting for the Aletrnator from Sydeny, we set off. The beach was stunning and at the little shelter we put our money in the honesty box and picked up the snorkels etc. In we went armed with bread and started feeding fish up to 4 foot long. All went well and they took the bread gently from the fingers. Then one bit me on the leg and whilst not serious it was bleeding. Next came the shark, I know little of sharks so beat a hasty retreat, apparently it was a harmless reef shark but I was bleeding. Andy grabbed a camera and pusued the 4 foot beast but it swam off and didn’t reappear. Later Nathan also got bitten, not all was sweetness in paradise.
Posted: January 2nd, 2011 under Sailing Report.
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