Boating NZ

I

-

t’s obvious that Frankham’s into boats in a big way – they’re everywhere. The carport’s home to a 5m rowing dinghy, there’s a part-built plywood catamaran in the basement, a beaten-up Hobie 16 on the lawn, while a Laser, assorted canoes and dinghies are scattered around the jetty. Inside the house are photos and boat paintings galore.

It turns out Colin’s lived virtually all his life on the Waitemata waterfront. Born in 1935 as Colin Simmers, his parents divorced early and his mother remarried Jim Frankham, whose father had founded the shipping company AG Frankham.

The company owned three 30m trading ships and, as most freight in those days was transporte­d by shipping, it was a very successful business. Two of AG Frankham’s ships, the Tiri and the Kapuni (later the Tiri 2) were also used by the pirate radio station Radio Hauraki, launched in November 1966.

Jim lived on the Herne Bay waterfront and was a skilled, innovative sailor. One of his boats was the Bob Stewartdes­igned M Class Manaia (II), and there’s a 1938 photo on Colin’s wall showing three of her crew on trapeze.

One of the crew that day was George Silk, the famous photograph­er who later served with the American and Australian troops as an official war photograph­er during WWII and spent over 30 years working for Life magazine.

Around 1952, Silk was holidaying in Hawaii and came across a

12m catamaran undergoing repairs on the beach. This was Manu Kai, one of the first modern catamarans, designed and built by Rudy Choy, Woody Brown and Alfred Kumalae.

A keen yachtie, Silk snapped several photos of Manu Kai before a large Hawaiian became upset and chased him away. On his return to Auckland Silk showed the pictures to Jim and Colin Frankham, and Frank Pelin, then Colin’s best friend and fellow P Class sailor.

Fascinated by the catamaran and its potential, the trio decided to build a smaller 6m version. Jim bought the materials, Colin scrounged the fittings, rig and sails and Pelin built it. It was soon out on the water off Herne Bay, and while the catamaran proved difficult to tack, it went like a rocket in a straight line.

Boatbuilde­r/designer Jim Young, then located at Northcote Point straight across the harbour, saw it tearing up and down Herne Bay. Intrigued by its speed, Young asked everyone he knew about the boat, but no one could tell him who was responsibl­e.

The mystery wasn’t solved until years later when Frankham, by then good friends with Young, let him in on the secret – it’d been he and Pelin who’d built and sailed the first catamaran in Auckland. “Jim wouldn’t speak to me for week,” he laughs.

In 1952 Frankham met Peter Mander and his crew who’d driven up from Christchur­ch to race their new 18-footer Intrigue in the Auckland Anniversar­y Regatta. As luck would have it, one of the crew wasn’t feeling too well and Mander asked Frankham to sail with them as bailer boy. The profession­al way Mander

from oven-dried, sap kauri.

In the hands of her original owner, Don Wilson, Mirage hadn’t gone well, but after Frankham tidied her up and fitted her with new Mick Bouzaid sails, she proved nigh unbeatable for two seasons.

Growing up in Herne Bay, with its generous tree-lined sections and waterfront views, was always going to be difficult to replicate on a working man’s wages. Aged 17, Frankham decided he’d better think ahead and buy some land with a view or he’d end up living in suburbia.

Showing wisdom far above his years, he found a waterfront section on the North Shore, which in the pre-harbour bridge days was considerab­ly less expensive than city side land. He eventually discovered an overgrown waterfront section in Beach Haven, which other buyers had turned down because six large pine trees blocked the view.

A chainsaw would quickly solve that issue, so he bought the section for £750, borrowing the money through his lawyer uncle Claude Lovegrove. The repayments were £8 per month. Frankham cut down the trees and persuaded a local sawmill owner to tow them away by barge.

Leaving school, he got into chandlery, first with John Burns, then Wisemans. It was at Wisemans he first met Alf Locke and the pair became good friends.

At Wiseman’s he got to know most of the Auckland boatbuilde­rs and designers, becoming especially friendly with Young and Max Carter. The latter later designed and built a 7.5m motor launch for Jim Frankham. Powered by a 120hp Gray petrol engine she achieved 30 knots.

Wiseman’s was also Richard (Dick) Hartley’s boat plan agent and Frankham got to see his operation in full cry. “Dick had built this 7.5m x 15m shed and there were eight women on tables rolling up plans and sending them all over the world.”

Frankham married Jenette Mccloud in his late 20s and, needing their own home, commission­ed newly-qualified architect Alan Warwick to design them a house on the Beach Haven section. Besides the open plan living and big windows to maximise the views, a key feature was the large basement beneath the house for future boatbuildi­ng. Frankham’s lived there ever since.

The couple had two sons and, once they were old enough, Frankham built a family cruising yacht. Following Locke’s suggestion, he approached Bo Birdsall to design a yacht for four, but narrow enough to fit down the side of the house and into the basement. The yacht’s length wasn’t discussed.

Birdsall phoned two weeks later to say the plans were ready so Frankham hot-footed around to find his new yacht, all 14.6m of it, drawn up on two sheets of plywood. While the hull lines were accurately drawn out, in typically Birdsall fashion the interior and cabin shapes had been largely left for the builder to work out.

Boatbuilde­r Dave Jackson constructe­d the two-skin kauri hull, which was then delivered into the basement for Frankham to finish. Complete with a second-hand K Class timber mast, second-hand Stewart 34 sails, galvanised rigging and a Ron Augustin marinised Ford 10 engine, Fleetwing was launched around 1970. She proved to be extremely quick downwind and provided the Frankham family with many happy years of cruising.

Frankham eventually sold Fleetwing when his sons wanted to get into P Class, and she’s currently owned by Paul Stringer, who’s added a solid dodger.

After a few years working for H A Scott Ltd, Frankham bought and ran a hardware store in Massey for a few years. Then came several years operating one of the largest lawnmowing rounds on the North Shore. Next he became the groundsman for The Pines, an upmarket Epsom apartment complex set in extensive grounds.

Throughout these years Frankham’s sons raced P Class and eventually got into Mullet boats. The best of these was the Birdsall-designed Snatcher, which he skippered for two seasons before handing her over to his son.

Besides various Mulleties and M Class, there have been many other boats moored off or parked at the Frankham’s house – including an 11m Vindex, a Great Barrier Express catamaran, and countless smaller boats and canoes.

Over the past decade Frankham’s had several personal issues to deal with. His wife died of cancer nine years ago and various health issues have slowed him physically so house and boat maintenanc­e are suffering. But he still loves talking boats, designers and boatbuilde­rs. He continues gathering boat ideas and concepts in folders and takes a close interest in any boat moving past his lounge window.

“It’s been an interestin­g life, but you’ve got to have liked boats. I’ve sailed them, built them, loved them and dreamed them all my life.”

Colin Frankham, lifelong boatie and a real character.

In 1932 Oskar Speck was a 25-year-old electrical contractor trying to make things work in a country in turmoil. Saddled with a crippling war debt aggravated by the global depression, Germany was in a dark space. When his factory was forced to close, the frustrated Speck embarked on a bold plan.

He’d heard there were opportunit­ies in Cyprus’ copper mines. Without any prospect of getting there with convention­al transport, he resolved to kayak to Cyprus – through Central/ Eastern Europe and into the Mediterran­ean. Evidently he was unconcerne­d by a few awkward details, including the fact that he was penniless, and that long-distance kayaking was a risky propositio­n for someone who couldn’t swim.

His vessel Sunnschien (sunshine) – was a 5.5m collapsibl­e two-man kayak manufactur­ed by German company Pionier Faltboot (folding boat). It was modelled on those used by the Inuit, and Speck modified it for a single paddler, creating more storage for equipment, clothing and supplies. In May 1932 he launched Sunnschien into the Danube and set off equipped with a camera, a pistol, sailing charts and a prismatic compass.

Inevitably, there were hiccups. Finding the tranquil Danube too boring, he switched to the Vardar River at the BulgariaYu­goslavia border, and badly damaged the kayak attempting to negotiate its rapids. With no money to buy food, let alone fix the kayak, he was forced to scrounge and scavenge. But remarkably, he made it to Cyprus.

When he reached the Mediterran­ean, he equipped Sunnschien with splash guards and a 4m2 sail. It doubled his paddling speed to around six knots, and it made island-hopping down the coast to Turkey and Cyprus a lot easier, even though the ever-present fear of capsizing at sea – and his inability to swim – hovered menacingly in the back of his mind.

Speck’s plans changed radically in Cyprus. By then he’d realised that long-distance kayaking was far more fun than toiling in a mine, and decided to continue to Syria, paddle

On the positive side, though, was his growing internatio­nal reputation. As his journey progressed, so the demand for interviews from newspapers and magazines increased. He continued to give talks at various stopovers – and his empty kitty began to look a little healthier.

But internatio­nal fame – against the backdrop of the unease in Europe and the growing threat posed by Hitler – also presented a problem for an adventurou­s German. He was arrested as a Nazi spy in India, and though released two days later, was dogged by ‘spy allegation­s’ for the rest of the voyage. The conspiracy theorists believed his kayak trip was a clever Nazi ruse, and that it gave him the perfect cover for developing

 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from New Zealand