Irish surprise
Every circumnavigating sailor experiences unusual events during the voyage, but things tend to the bizarre in the land of the Leprechauns.
Hokitika couple Paul and Jane Teen are some 18 years into a leisurely circumnavigation in Nora J – their steel 29-foot, Denis Ganley-designed Pacemaker 30. Paul built the yacht 22 years ago.
One of the goals of the voyage was visiting Ireland – to explore the region their families had left in the 1860s. Last year they finally reached the port of Cobh in County Cork, an achievement Paul says felt a bit surreal.
“It’s was a bit sentimental with all those old Irish songs playing on the radio. Sailing up here has been bloody good. There are so many good people, stories and memories – the log book’s got it all. It’s been an adventure that’s for sure.” But nothing like the adventure that followed. Nora J made her way down the south-west coast of Ireland, heading for Portimao, Portugal, in preparation for a crossing to Canary Islands and then the Atlantic.
With Hook Head light visible the noise of a helicopter coming up astern got their attention.
“Closer he came in, at low altitude,” says Paul. “In fact, they were right up our arse and at mast height. These guys were the Irish Coastguard and they wanted to talk to us. So we grabbed the hand-held VHF.
“The guy standing in the Sikorsky S92’s doorway really accentuated its size. He asked if we would take part in an exercise as they’d been looking for someone to practice on. I guess having New Zealand on our hull made us a reasonably approachable target! He explained what would happen and I tried to interpret what I could above the deafening noise of his engine and rotors.
“At this point we were reefed down and clonking through two metre waves. I donned my safety harness, stepped up on deck and clipped on. They were so close I could even see the pimple on the pilot’s nose.
“After what seemed an age the crewman lowered a weighted line to me, which I caught, and he indicated for me to pull it in. Ploughing along at seven knots on autopilot, I wondered to myself – ‘does New Zealand Health and Safety know about this?’ Then the man stepped out of the chopper’s doorway and I pulled on the line, guiding him onto our heaving deck.
“Denis Ganley didn’t design this yacht for a rescue exercise with the Irish. I couldn’t believe what was happening. The little fella on the end of the rope bounced his way along our stern and landed on our solid dodger with his feet on the side deck.
“I couldn’t hear a thing he was saying but he shook my hand, pulled out a pair of rubber gloves and indicated for me to put them on. He shook Jane by the hand like an old friend. Then, after communication with his crew he was yanked into the air with me guiding and stopping him swinging into anything.
“Back in his machine, they pulled in the weighted rope, called us on VHF and thanked us for partaking – like it happens everyday! They flew off to the Guinness Brewery leaving Jane and I in wonderment. Imagine this happening in New Zealand? The rest of our trip has been mundane in comparison.”
The Teens aim to be home in September this year – hopefully without having to participate in any further training exercises. B
DISASSEMBLY
Talent’s timber rudder blade had been laminated with resorcinol glue over a 44.5mm stainless steel rudder shaft, with three transverse 18mm pins locking the shaft to the blade. Designer Des Townson had specified type 316 for shaft and pins and while in 1976 316 was regarded as the bee’s knees of stainless, it’s now known to be highly susceptible to crevice corrosion (see sidebar).
Rust stains from a 316 shaft almost certainly meant crevice corrosion and closer inspection was essential. Surprisingly this proved relatively easy. Setting a circular saw to a depth just less than that of the timber around the shaft, the timber blade was cut either side of the shaft and the front of the blade popped off with a chisel.