All Piss and Wind Page 9

  However, be careful to keep your queries sensible. Asking a trimmer why that boat to leeward is going so much faster than us is not likely to improve his mood. ‘Need to know’ is the best guide. Questions directly related to the tasks at hand will always be answered pronto and willingly. The rest can usually wait until you’re back at the bar.

  Stick to your job

  For the first few months you’re likely to be given simple roles. Stick to them. Resist the temptation to demonstrate wider skills. ‘One man/one job’ is a principle that makes for safe yacht racing. When everyone in the crew understands exactly what’s expected of them their combined efforts can achieve remarkably complex processes, such as gybing the spinnaker, with relative ease.

  Sure, it might begin to get a bit boring being a humble grinder/tailer for the whole summer, but if you really keep your eyes and ears open you’ll learn a lot about yacht racing in a single season. And even if they don’t often say it, the more established members of the crew will always appreciate having someone reliable beside that winch.

  Cop the criticism

  Yacht racing can get pretty intense. A single botched sequence of tasks can risk injury, thousands of dollars’ worth of damage, disqualification, or even loss of a championship. Tempers fray. The most recent addition to the crew is also the most likely to have made the mistake. You will, on many boats, be yelled at very loudly for the slightest misdemeanour.

  Most racing cock-ups are either genuine accidents or the result of poor communications. Try to take your chewing-out in good grace, and offer a quick apology. Deflecting blame or getting defensive is a waste of everyone’s time and energy. By the time the dust has settled one of the older hands will most probably be telling you the disaster was partly his fault anyway. Scapegoating isn’t within the spirit of the sport.

  Be patient

  Many young people seek a regular ride on an ocean-going yacht because they’re attracted to the glamour of the big events – Hobart, Southport, Port Lincoln, Hamilton Island, the West Coaster. They survive a few 25-milers then get discouraged when their place in the team for the long-distance races suddenly goes to a more seasoned sailor.

  It may be hard to accept, but beginners must understand that skippers make their crew selections for the endurance events very carefully, and on criteria that have little to do with round-the-cans racing. Safety is their primary concern, so sailors with proven stamina and all-round experience often jump the queue. Specialist skills (navigator, helmsman, cook) and mandated qualifications (first aid, radio) also have a major impact. It’s a big step up from Saturday-afternoon racing to the sustained offshore demands of Category One, so try not to be in a hurry.

  Volunteer for anything

  The real currency of our sport is labour, not money. Owners can, by definition, afford the materials for refurbishment and maintenance. They’ll even fork out for expensive new sails and replacement gear. But what they value most is people who are prepared to contribute their time and labour to the boat.

  Sacrificing your entire Sunday to a tedious scrape and anti-foul session may not endear you to the spouse or partner, but it will go a long way to securing you a berth for the next Mooloolaba race. People who regularly turn up for ‘work days’ when they could call in sick (or slip away to crew on another yacht) are always remembered.

  Get involved

  Just doing the race, trotting off home and then showing up for the same again next week is rarely enough to make an impression on the skipper. Becoming an established member of a serious blue-water crew involves real commitment to both the boat and your shipmates. That means showing some initiative, enthusiasm, and demonstrating a bit of loyalty.

  Always be keen to check the date and time of the next race and to confirm (in the most subtle way) your availability. Ask if there are any special needs, or if it’s your turn to bring the lunch. Offer to pick up that repaired spinnaker from the loft. Try to notice small things on the boat that need attention and fix them yourself. Volunteer to chase up those hard-to-find bits of missing gear. In short, make yourself a genuinely useful member of the team and it will soon adopt you. If all else fails, you can always marry the owner’s son or daughter.

  NOW, A FEW THINGS SKIPPERS AND ESTABLISHED CREW CAN DO TO ENCOURAGE NEW TALENT INTO THE SPORT …

  There’s a common end-of-season exchange between whingeing owners that goes something like this:

  ‘Racing your boat this winter?’

  ‘Hoping to, mate – that’s if I can ever scratch a crew together.’

  It’s a familiar refrain. Owners of good, competitive yachts are happy to meet the daunting expense of campaigning their pride-and-joy, yet struggle to keep together a settled, loyal bunch of yachties who’ll sail the damn thing for them.

  The mathematics of this problem defy ordinary logic. There are plenty of good sailors about, and plenty of strong young blokes busting to secure a berth on an ocean-racer. So why do so many boats still scrape by on a core of old hands topped up by a high-turnover fringe of casuals? The answer is that skippers (and to some extent their regular crews) often inadvertently drive newcomers away. These owners and their ‘old guard’ should reconsider what have, regrettably, endured as traditional attitudes within the sport. Many of the following suggestions might seem like straightforward commonsense. The psychology of team-building has become a standard management tool. But it’s also worth reminding ourselves that successfully blending any outsider into an existing team requires special effort.

  Be civil

  When you’ve invited a newcomer onto your boat for the first time, take the trouble to be early so that you’re there when the debutant arrives and everyone in the crew can be properly introduced. Civility can go a long way. Conversely, if the new guy has come at the invitation of an established crewmember, make sure you introduce yourself to them early and make the effort to remember their name. Try to help the beginner feel welcome.

  This goes beyond basic decency and good manners: it’s good seamanship as well. In a tight situation, yelling ‘Hey, you! What’s-yer-name! Brace back!’ is unlikely to yield a swift response. Knowing the names of everyone on board allows the skipper to direct on-deck tasks with maximum speed and precision. It also helps build a newcomer’s self-confidence to hear themselves regularly named as part of the crew.

  Show and tell

  An ocean-racing yacht can be a pretty daunting contraption for someone straight off a smaller boat. Smart skippers always give new crew a brief orientation tour. ‘Come below, I’ll show you where to stow your bag,’ is a good opening line. Point out where all the crucial equipment and controls are located – PFDs, EPIRBs, MOB alarm, engine start/kill, fire-extinguishers, first-aid kit, tools, head, fenders, dock lines, boat hook. Take a moment to explain the preferred stacking sequence for sails.

  Back on deck, a senior crewmember should run the newcomer over the yacht’s basic layout and identify any winches and lines he’s likely to be working. People coming from smaller boats often aren’t familiar with hydraulics, or the mechanics of large spinnaker poles and multi-speed winches. It’s much easier, and safer, to first demonstrate these things calmly at the dock than when you’re already hurtling towards the leeward mark in 25 knots.

  Keep it simple

  Once the boat is under sail, new crew should be given just one basic role. ‘That’s your winch, mate. Stick to it like glue!’ A regular hand can then talk them through the full evolution of a tack so the beginner sees where their individual task fits into the complete process. Stress safety issues. That’s not only prudent crew management, but it also makes the new chum feel valued.

  It’s imperative that beginners in big-boat sailing understand that even the simplest function is vital. Nothing promotes enthusiasm, loyalty and self-esteem more quickly than the knowledge that what you’re doing really matters.

  Cut the jargon

  Seasoned sailors delight in the arcane language, processes and rituals of their sport. That’s par
t of yachting’s appeal. But it’s also arrogant (and unfair) to parade this knowledge in front of those who still have much to learn.

  There’s no point expecting a new chum to help you run a mouse line to the third reefing point if he doesn’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Better to turn the job into a quiet little lesson: by the end of the process your pupil should know what ‘VB cord’ is (and where it’s kept), why we use mouse lines, understand the reefing process, and even be able to tie a passable timber hitch.

  The same principles apply to the language of making yachts go faster. Remember that small-boat sailors tend to rely on not much more than telltales and the seat of their pants. Try to demystify the instrument read-out numbers and outline the way that the flow of data will influence sail selection and trim. For outright beginners you might want to explain the difference between true and apparent wind, or boat-speed and VMG. (But it’s always best to assure them that minds much greater than ours up the back of the boat will use all this stuff to make the Big Tactical Decisions – and usually get them wrong.)

  Never assume

  It’s easy to forget that a lifetime spent ocean racing provides us with a huge storehouse of knowledge and practical experience. A standard, dip-pole spinnaker gybe will look like World War III to first-time crew. The sequence of events required for a peel change-up from the #3 to the #2 genoa is second nature to experienced hands, yet that same process may seem an impenetrable Chinese puzzle to the newcomer.

  So we must never assume that beginners will know how to perform even the simplest task. Nor will they know the order in which things must be done, or even understand why a particular process is necessary at all. Ocean-racing skills and commonsense take years to develop. They’re largely built on the willingness of regular crew to openly share the details of their craft with newcomers. Holding back that knowledge is appalling vanity – and unsafe.

  Keep your cool

  Skippers tend to scream at their crew. Levels of agitation and abuse that would be unthinkable in the workplace are the norm on many yachts. This is, of course, counterproductive and defies the principles of effective staff management. But it seems nothing will stop most skippers from bellowing behind the wheel. New crew can find this rather disconcerting. They get a Force 10 bollocking for some minor lapse that on land might provoke no more than a raised eyebrow.

  Many would-be ocean racers never return after being on the receiving end of a skipper throwing a full-bore ‘tanty’. This is where the regular crew can help. ‘Don’t worry about it, mate. Happens all the time. He’s a teensy bit competitive. Always does his block if he thinks we’re going to shred his lovely new sails. It’ll all be forgotten before we’re back at the mooring.’ It’s fine to defuse these situations by demonising the skipper (they quite like it, actually). And always take the time to reassure any downcast new crewmember that it’s only a boat race – and everyone makes mistakes.

  Share the knowledge

  If the new crewmember survives a few day-races he might be invited to tackle his first passage event. That’s the time to quietly pass on the benefits of your own experience and outline the significant differences between flat-water and ocean sailing.

  Suggest what to pack, and what to leave ashore. Make sure the new chum has the right clothing and wet-weather gear. Explain the watch system used on your boat, and the safety rules. Demonstrate how to come up safely from below and clip a tether onto the jackstay. Make him promise to get a good, long night of sleep before the race. Be certain he understands that distance ocean-racing is all about stamina and pacing yourself. If first-timers know what’s expected of them, then they’re much more likely to meet the challenge.

  Praise and encourage

  Old campaigners – especially owners who spend most of their time in the aft cockpit or in their bunk – tend to forget that pushing big yachts hard for days on end isn’t easy work. There’s so much for beginners to learn and remember that it’s a wonder they don’t all become discouraged and quit.

  Explaining the ‘how to’ basics and correcting faulty technique is best left to the regular crew. A canny skipper will wait until the new recruit has done something well and then offer instant praise. ‘Well done! Just like a bought one. We’ll make a bloody sailor of you yet.’ It may only have been a neatly executed tack, but that’s precious encouragement for the seagoing greenhorn. Positive reinforcement helps cement the right way of doing things. And remember that the greatest praise of all – the words that are absolutely guaranteed to lift the spirits of any aspiring young yachtie – is your invitation for them to come sailing with you again next week.

  I have the honour to report that the area of arable land

  on the island is so small that it can be of little value in

  an agricultural or commercial point of view, but I have

  been greatly pleased with its beauty, and the salubrity

  of its climate cannot possibly be surpassed.

  The Honourable J. Bowie Wilson, April 1882

  Report on the State and Prospects of Lord Howe Island

  OCEAN RACING, LIKE most organised sports, has an annual cycle. The major events occupy fixed points on the calendar and the offshore community inevitably plan their lives around those dates. For many the climax is Boxing Day, the start of the Sydney–Hobart race. But for me the highlight of the season comes two months earlier. The moment that I look forward to most each year can’t be predicted with any great accuracy, although it usually falls somewhere within the last Monday or Tuesday of October. It’s when, after three days at sea, the twin peaks of Lord Howe Island first appear over the horizon. Our hearts lift with the sailor’s timeless joy of landfall. The crew all crowd on deck to share in the satisfaction of another long journey made together in safety. Veterans cannot smother their smiles as they anticipate the coming days of fun and relaxation on the world’s southernmost tropical island. They know it’s undoubtedly the best destination in Australian yachting.

  The Gosford–Lord Howe race is a genuine passage event, 414 nautical miles across the Tasman Sea to find a tiny finishing line tucked into the leeward side of an island just six miles long. All but a few hours of the trip are spent beyond the sight of land and other boats, so the feeling of being truly ‘at sea’ underscores the whole race and lends it unique character. The Southport and Mooloolaba events may test tactics and navigation more, Hobart stretches our stamina, but only the Lord Howe offers the experience of sustained seafaring. For days it’s possible to daydream that this is what it must have been like on the square-riggers, letting your life be entirely dictated by wind, weather, waves and the ceaseless round of watches. There are no coastal landmarks or beacons by which to judge progress or confirm the guesser’s last plot. Crossing oceans – if only 400 miles of the Tasman – is the quintessence of offshore sailing. The sense of achievement as Mount Gower and Mount Lidgbird loom into view is unforgettable.

  The race owes its existence to a serendipitous confluence of events. Mainland tourism to the island had slumped in the early 1970s with the demise of the romantic (but woefully uneconomic) flying-boat passenger service between Rose Bay in Sydney and the Lord Howe lagoon. The island’s tiny economy was in recession. At the same time, a group of Gosford yachtsmen including Peter Rysdyk and Lloyd Prike had taken to cruising over to Lord Howe for their summer holidays. During dinner one night at the Pine Trees guest house, the sailors mused that it might be fun to stage some sort of organised yachting event rather than their casual cruising passage. The then proprietress of Pine Trees, Mrs Beth Kirby, leapt at the idea. ‘I’ll give you a fine perpetual trophy if you organise a race,’ she told them. The current owner of Pine Trees, Pixie Rourke, still presents that slightly battered silver trophy every year – it was originally awarded a century ago for some long-forgotten handicap at the Penang Turf Club in Singapore.

  Rysdyk’s yacht Onya of Gosford won the first race in 1974 and the LHI has been contested every year since. It always begins on
the last Saturday of October, and is second only in distance to the Sydney–Hobart in the Australian offshore calendar. Past winners include some of our most famous racing yachts: Helsal, Stormy Petrel, Sweet Caroline, Brindabella, Mark Twain, Doctor Who, Margaret Rintoul and Midnight Rambler. The record for the fastest passage – 33 hours, 34 minutes and 21 seconds – was set by Merit in 2002. Good manners prevent me naming the yacht that holds the record for taking the longest time to complete the distance, but its time was a whopping 95 hours, 19 minutes and 42 seconds.

  The original course took the fleet from the start off Lion Island at the mouth of Pittwater and around Ball’s Pyramid, a hazardous spike of rock which lies about 12 miles south-east of the Island. Today’s track dispenses with Ball’s Pyramid but includes a rounding mark laid close in to Terrigal Beach so that Central Coast spectators can catch a glimpse of the fleet before it heads out into the Tasman. From there it’s a straight-line sprint to the finish off Signal Point.

  Gosford Sailing Club, the organisers of the Lord Howe, describe it as ‘the most exclusive offshore event in the yachting world’. They have a point. While every other blue-water classic likes to judge its success by the number of entries it attracts, participation in the Gosford–LHI is strictly by invitation and limited to just 20 boats. The reason for that very small fleet is the geography of the island itself. There are no marinas or overnight docking facilities at Lord Howe, so all visiting yachts have to be accommodated on conventional swing moorings within the natural protection of the lagoon. There are only 20 spots available – 15 shallow-draft moorings (for yachts that draw less than 2.2 metres), plus five that can hold larger yachts in one of the deeper entry passages.

  Every year there are many more yachts seeking entry than there are places available. The members of the Race Committee then have the delicate political task of selecting those who will be invited to make the trip and informing the unsuccessful applicants that they will have to wait for another opportunity. Longstanding loyalty to the race is recognised, but does not bestow automatic selection. Most of the larger yachts that miss out on a mooring are then invited to race on a ‘turnaround’ basis. Their speed advantage usually gets them to the island a day before the bulk of the fleet, so they can enjoy at least one overnight before having to vacate their mooring for a slower finisher.