Quoteout here and here and here and here and here.
SWISS ARMY KNIFE THE LEATHERMAN THE TIME I WENT TO SEA WITHOUT A KNIFE?
As my horizons widened (backpacking through Europe and more miles under my keel) a Swiss Army knife became my blade of choice. Cousteau never left home without one. Bought from a British army garrison shop in West Germany, it travelled with me as I walked and hitched the highways and shores of the Mediterranean.
Working as engineer aboard a 95-foot schooner it still came in handy and I once even repaired the owner’s SLR camera with its screwdriver. It remained in my pocket as I crossed the Atlantic and worked on yachts in the Caribbean. With a little sharpening its blade could cut a mango or scoop out the insides of a coconut, or neatly slice a baguette in Martinique.
As the sea miles grew I opted to try for my Yachtmaster certification. Training was at one of the great homes of yachting, the Solent. Its famed chandlers have been supplying gear to mariners since before Nelson, so it was a good place to search for my next knife, a Sowester Lockspike Master from Curry Ltd in Chichester.
A simple and lightweight knife with a four-inch snub-end blade and a sturdy marlin spike, it came with me during my Yachtmaster exam. The examiner, a formidable British Naval Commander, came aboard in Gibraltar and commanded me for a day as we sailed, manoeuvred and navigated between North African and European waters.
After living on the shores of the Mediterranean and sailing down North Africa’s famed Barbary Coast, my wife and I planned emigration to Australia. Before leaving, father-in-law Jimmy gave me what would become one of my most treasured knives – a Leatherman.
Jimmy, like his father before him, was a trained boatbuilder in the Scottish Highlands and had gone on to become a carpenter. He knew the value of a good tool like the Leatherman. The knife travelled with us as we
A good lanyard has allowed my Sowester Lockspike Master to remain with me for the last 35 years. circumnavigated Australia by campervan. That trip allowed us to charter a yacht in the Whitsundays, a poorly-maintained vessel with a defective roller-reefing mainsail that jammed in the Whitsunday Channel in a gale. The Leatherman averted a possible catastrophe.
In Sydney for my first Hobart race, I was given a new, lightweight Leatherman, the Skeletool. Its compactness hides a sturdy snub blade and it has a handy slot for turning stiff shackles. But what I remember most clearly of that race is wrestling with the shattered end of the spinnaker pole on the foredeck, using the Skeletool pliers to trim the jagged metal.
Well, that was on Botany Bay where a bunch of us were windsurfing. I was taught to always carry a knife but on this occasion I’d forgotten. So when a trolling fishing boat steamed right through our fleet without any care for the consequences, I was literally caught out.
The square-sterned fishing boat suddenly appeared in the corner of my eye as I skimmed over the waves. Suddenly there came a hissing sound as the fishing boat’s trolling lines caught my windsurfer, but much worse was to follow.
The thick nylon lines tightened as the fishing boat carried on trolling through the angry windsurfers. A louder hiss grew and then a mighty thud hit me behind my left knee. This was the triple-barbed hook embedding itself in the muscle.
I writhed in agony as the sea went red but my horror grew as I realised the line was speeding out with the trolling boat. I cursed my lack of knife and cursed the fisherman, who I may have used it on, before realising that only a few seconds remained before the slack was taken up.
Realising that my only cutting blade was my teeth, I sprang into the water and gnawed like a beaver that’s imbibed too much Red Bull. As the last foot of slack was taken up, the gnawed nylon parted to leave the spinner and hooks in my leg.
That was the last time I ever put to sea without a knife.