Boating NZ

“Water, water everywhere And not a drop to drink.”

- WORDS BY KEVIN GREEN SUPPLIED

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Heritage

PHOTOGRAPH­Y he year is 1968 and my uncle and I watch the TV in the far north of Scotland – black and white images of a yacht surrounded by smaller boats making its way into harbour. The announcer is describing the arrival back in Britain of Francis Chichester after a record-breaking circumnavi­gation on his yacht Gipsy Moth IV – the first person to singlehand­edly sail around the globe via Cape Horn.

It seemed unimaginab­le to me, as a small boy, what Chichester had done. Of course, Uncle Wullie had been around the globe several times as a merchant seaman, but the realisatio­n that Chichester did it alone inspired me towards sailing from that moment on.

Chichester’s voyage had only one planned stop-over, a place called Sydney, somewhere I’d only vaguely heard of. While wrestling with the boat in Bass Strait he was annoyed to see a motorboat approachin­g his yawing yacht. On board was yachting journalist Lou d’alpuget armed with whisky

T– was a fantasy come

and onions – a determined bid to get a scoop on Chichester’s arrival in Sydney. I’m not sure if the expletive-ridden conversati­on was ever published fully.

The tired Englishman had good reason for his black mood on that day in 1967 – he was exhausted from coaxing what was already a badly-performing boat through the Indian Ocean without self-steering. Going east-to-west around the globe was proving too much for the 53-foot Illingwort­h-primrose design, and Chichester had nearly had enough of it by Sydney.

Years later I would re-read his autobiogra­phy, The Lonely Sea and Sky, and his book of the 1967 circumnavi­gation, Gipsy Moth Circles the World, to study his seamanship. A keen airman, it was his navigation abilities that impressed me most about Chichester, especially during his various record-breaking flights, including the solo London-sydney flight in 1929 and a Tasman Sea crossing. Chichester’s expert navigation skills meant he was the first to point out the fake position fixes given by the unfortunat­e Donald Crowhurst during his fatal Golden Globe Race in 1969.

The restored Gipsy Moth IV is a fitting tribute to Sir Francis Chichester’s recordbrea­king 1967 circumnavi­gation. Photo: PPL Agency

..

Fast-forward to Hamilton Island Race Week 2006 and I’m on the tiller of Gipsy Moth IV as she majestical­ly sails past the race fleet during our layday. Our race crew and skipper Colin had won the bidding competitio­n to charter her. Holding on to the infamously heavy tiller wasn’t a burden in the light airs wafting across the ketch. But the complexity of the boat, designed for a single-hander, seemed astounding as I discovered when wrestling with Highfield levers, Yankee headsails, staysails and assorted mizzen halyards.

At least the banks of self-tailing Lewmar winches were familiar. Interestin­g deck items included the exposed quadrant that threatened to crush toes, yet handily became a useful beer bottle opener. They all made for an interestin­g day in the warm Whitsunday sunshine.

Below decks clearly belonged to another era. A white-painted cabin with nav station near the companionw­ay. Above the large chart table, grey panels of old electronic­s – including the original Marconi transmitte­r and receiver – were mounted onto

a hinged false panel. It swung open to give access to modern GPS and communicat­ions gear.

Opposite on starboard, the galley, with large stove, sink and saltwater pump and lots of sliding doors to hold victuals. Above, a forward-facing window which allowed Chichester to cook while keeping an eye ahead.

In the saloon, a large folding table and benches to seat six. I doubt Chichester spent much time lounging here given the rigours of solo sailing. Beside the table sat a robust paraffin heater – it provided comforting heat that helped sustain him rounding Cape Horn. All lockers had sturdy catches, crucial during her capsize back in 1967.

I could feel Chichester’s presence down here amid the scent of wood and oil because so much was original. When I grabbed some the handrails, I imagined him doing the same as she yawed and rolled her way across the empty wastes of the Southern Ocean – with the Blondie Hasler-inspired self-steering toiling to keep her on course.

Despite her distinguis­hed pedigree – she was built by Camper & Nicholson and designed by John Illingwort­h and Angus Primrose – Chichester had little affection for Gipsy Moth IV, selling her shortly after the circumnavi­gation. Photo: Camper & Nicholson

Chichester’s voyage had only one planned stop-over, a place called Sydney, somewhere I’d only vaguely heard of.

Chichester completing his circumnavi­gation in May 1967 off Plymouth Hoe where thousands lined the shores to welcome him after 226 days at sea. Photo: PPL Agency

Sailing this regal lady was not for the faint-hearted but our incentive to do well was strong, because we had to ‘race’ around the islands to arrive in time for the Whitehaven Beach Party, an event where the receding tide would expose wildlife of the homo sapiens variety, especially around the legendary XXXX beer tent.

Taking the yacht there under the formidable skipper Simon (“Get that sail hoisted, you spineless blaggards!!”) was like waking up in an episode of Hornblower. The crew laboured, Simon swore and the jokes came thick and fast as jovial irreverenc­e, caused by a clash of Australian unfussines­s, British naval tradition and Hahn beer.

Like the WWII Normandy landings, the Whitehaven beach assault was messy, with sun-induced burnt flesh everywhere and bikini-clad ladies cavorting wildly, some clenched in combat with those of the opposite sex. The threatened media soccer match against a rival magazine was settled over a XXXX instead.

Before long the retreat signal was given and we jumped aboard Gipsy Moth IV to manually wrestle the big anchor up (a ‘windlass’ sitting on the starboard side, midships, turned out to be a winch for controllin­g the twin running sails. Of course!).

Bowling home and powered up she twisted and slid down waves like a typical IOR snake, while a race of contrasts took place with the 98-foot Skandia supermaxi. As they came alongside skipper Grant

Wharington got all hands on deck to give us a salute and three cheers. Stirring stuff – and overhead the RAAF Roulettes aerobatic team buzzed past in tight formation with a faint tipping of their wings. Not a bad day at

Hammo, overall.

extending its base to hang below the keel-hung rudder. This was intended to provide Gipsy Moth IV with better directiona­l stability, but the modificati­on wasn’t a success.

This gave the Englishman plenty to consider given that they were only halfway round the world and the toughest test was yet to come – Cape Horn. As he recalled afterwards: “The boat was too big for me. She is cantankero­us and difficult and needs a crew of three – a man to navigate, an elephant to move the tiller and a 3’6” chimpanzee with arms 8’ long to get about below and work some of the gear,” he said. On the home leg near Cape Horn the yacht rolled in a 140° capsize, but fortunatel­y self-righted.

In his book, The Circumnavi­gators, Don Holm describes Gipsy Moth IV as “perhaps one of the worst racing yachts ever built.” The boat was too big and too demanding for the 64-year-old skipper. At the end of the arduous circumnavi­gation, asked why he did it, Chichester replied: “Because it intensifie­s life.”

Among the records that Chichester achieved during that ninemonth voyage was beating the average time (230 days) taken by a fully-crewed Clipper ship: Chichester did it in 226 days.

On his return in May 1967, thousands lined the shores of Plymouth Hoe to welcome him. Chichester became an national hero, including to small boys like your writer who had nautical aspiration­s. He was invited to Buckingham Palace where the Queen knighted him, using the same sword that gave that honour to adventurer Sir Francis Drake; the first Englishman to complete a circumnavi­gation with his crew.

Chichester then unceremoni­ously dumped the yacht to have his final vessel built, Gipsy Moth V, stating that version IV had no sentimenta­l value for him at all. The yacht lay rotting while Chichester again sailed transatlan­tic voyages in pursuit of records.

But by then his body was failing and he was airlifted from his last voyage, with son Chiles going aboard to bring the new a yacht home. Shortly afterwards he lost his long battle with cancer and died in 1972. He had two children with wife Sheila, and eldest son Chiles went on to sail solo in his illustriou­s father’s wake. assignment­s together which included being presented to Princess Anne in 2006 in Sydney. “But you’re not Australian!” she accusingly laughed at me. As patron of Scottish Rugby and various other northern tribes she knew me for what I was.

As for Gelder, I greatly valued his camaraderi­e and his wit. A newspaperm­an turned magazine writer, he’d done the media hard-yards before helming Yachting Monthly. Very sadly, Paul died in 2019 from cancer, aged 71, but he left a fantastic legacy in the shape of the restored Gipsy Moth IV.

Early in the campaign Gelder met the head of the UKSA, entreprene­ur and sailor David Green, who got the organisati­on to take over the boat restoratio­n. She was taken by road to her original builder Camper & Nicholson, in Gosport, with the company doing the £300,000 project at cost price. A lot of the money came from the general public.

The B&G navigation equipment was replaced with new electronic­s but the original devices were retained on a covering panel to maintain the 1966 feel. Gelder recounted the restoratio­n story in his book, Gipsy Moth IV: A Legend Sails Again.

The restored yacht was launched in June 2005 – the date coincided with the 40th anniversar­y of Chichester’s epic voyage and by September she departed for a 21-month educationa­l round-the-world voyage. The first part was with the Blue Water Round the World Rally, via the trade wind route and the Panama Canal (not via the Capes).

After Panama and heading across the Pacific in 2006 she ran aground on a low-lying atoll in the Tuamotus – not for nothing are they known as the ‘Dangerous Archipelag­o’. On board was a crew of youths from a charity organisati­on, led by 32-year-old skipper Antonia Nicholson and 24-year-old first mate Chris Bruce. The yacht had wandered off course in the worst place possible.

The yacht was swept up by a large wave and thrown across the reef at Rangiroa. After a Mayday and subsequent quick action by the UKSA charity, she was successful­ly salvaged by the Dutch company Smit.

Among the rescuers was the man who’d first come to the rescue of rotting yacht years earlier – Paul Gelder.

“My first glimpse of Gipsy Moth IV, a mile away through a gap in the mangroves and palm trees, was heartbreak­ing. She

lay on her side on a wild, barren stretch of reef, her red ensign still fluttering from the mizzen mast.”

After fitting plywood patches on the hull and towing her across the reef to deep water, the yacht was saved. There followed a second extensive restoratio­n in Auckland by the NZ America’s Cup Team – led by Grant Dalton – who donated premises and help in the Viaduct Harbour, allowing the yacht to be relaunched in June 2006.

That was just in time to reach Hamilton Island Race Week and meet with this writer, who was careful to avoid all reefs while at her helm. Soon after she departed west to complete her circumnavi­gation via the Suez Canal. After being accompanie­d into Plymouth by a flotilla, Gipsy Moth IV docked at West Hoe Pier on 28 May 2007, just as she’d done exactly 40 years earlier, to complete her second journey round the world.

Owners UKSA eventually sold the yacht in 2010 for $250,000 after finding her unsuitable for training and the maintenanc­e costs too high. After a campaign to keep the yacht in British waters, she was bought by entreprene­urs Eileen Skinner and business partner Rob Thompson who then handed her to a new charity, The Gipsy Moth Trust.

The yacht’s costs are funded by paying passengers and crew, and by donations to the Trust. She often returns to Chichester’s locale, Bucklers Hard on the snaking Beaulieu River, a legendary pier on the Solent that many sailors cherish, including this writer many decades ago doing his junior skipper’s ticket with a head full of Gipsy Moth dreams.

The yacht’s costs are funded by paying passengers and crew, and by donations to the Trust.

Yachting Monthly editor, the late Paul Gelder, initiated the restoratio­n of Gipsy Moth IV.

Photo: Yachting Monthly

Gipsy Moth IV sails into Sydney Harbour where the writer first boarded her subsequent to sailing her at Hamilton Island Race Week 2006. Photo: © Peter Andrews/outimage Archive

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