Great Seamanship: Last Days of the Slocum Era

From childhood, Graham Cox had dreamed of the ocean. Rising up in Durban, he’d spent his time hanging out close to what was then referred to as the Worldwide Jetty, the place far-ranging yachts of all nations berthed to interrupt their epic passages.

Generally he’d pluck up braveness and ‘make his quantity’, to be properly acquired by the beneficiant tribes of the ocean. His two volumes, Final Days of the Slocum Period, describe this dreaming time. The heroes he met come rollicking off the pages as if we had been all within the pub collectively.

About midway by Quantity 1, Graham leaves residence together with his kitbag and emigrates to Australia. It isn’t lengthy earlier than he has acquired a small yacht to dwell on. Poeme is a 24ft, engineless double-ended ketch constructed within the old style approach of larch on oak.

In 1974, the decision of the ocean turns into simple. Along with Colleen, a woman he hardly is aware of, he units sail for New Zealand.

Issues don’t go properly. We be a part of them after a significant hammering from a full gale, someplace off Australia’s east coast, place unknown, with the wind blowing onshore.

Extract from Final Days of the Slocum Period

The one factor I wished to do now was return to the security of Australia. Go residence. My eager for the ocean had mysteriously vanished. The south-easterly gale was blowing us that approach. It was solely a matter of time earlier than we arrived. I started staring on the western horizon, however my gaze was all the time met by an infinite vista of enormous, foam-backed waves. How far offshore had been we? 100 miles was only a stab at midnight. I’d actually misplaced the plot.

By the fourth day, I used to be turning into numb with despair. We had been additionally soaked to the bone and freezing chilly. That night time, there was little or no sleep. Absolutely the boat would crash onto the rocks at any second? Shortly after daybreak on the fifth day, we sighted land.

We had clearly been a lot additional offshore than I had estimated. I instantly received sail up, regardless of the persevering with onshore gale, and commenced careering in. It was a lee shore, however I used to be decided to plant my toes on it. One other night time, I used to be satisfied, would carry catastrophe.

All day we sailed, clinging desperately to the tiller, however when dusk got here we had been nonetheless a number of miles offshore with no concept of the place we had been. Then a lighthouse winked. What an exquisite factor to succeed in out to wandering sailors, to shine a lightweight on their darkness. I wished to kiss all people, beginning with Colleen, however as a substitute I received out my stopwatch and timed it.

The sunshine was simply south of Port Stephens. I knew the port properly, however was unsure concerning the shallow entrance on this big sea. The choice was quickly out of my palms, because the wind quickly backed north-east, then north-west, growing in ferocity because it did. There was no approach we might get in now.

I ought to have simply laid ahull, drifting quietly within the lee of the land, however disgrace at my earlier dangerous seamanship led me to commit one other folly. I ran again out to sea for a number of hours, the wake ablaze with phosphorescence, wanting like a rocket ship flying by house on the darkish facet of the moon. The sky had cleared, and the celebs, vivid within the blackness, added to this impact. Finally, poor little Poeme was overwhelmed as soon as extra by wind and waves, and I needed to take all sail down.

A constructing sea

By daybreak, the wind was within the south-west and stable. Colleen, an skilled motorcyclist, estimated about 45 knots. The waves had been very steep. I don’t know how excessive they had been, solely that the sight of them was spectacular. Later, I found a 4-knot present was sucking us south in opposition to the wind, however within the second I simply thought, ‘Queensland, right here we come!’

Poeme was repeatedly knocked down, browsing sideways with the crests, masts virtually horizontal, to guage from the angle contained in the cabin. We had no intention of going exterior to look. Anyway, we had extra vital issues to fret about. The companionway doorways had smashed. If Poeme capsized now, the boat might flood. I believed dully of the way to barricade the outlet, however that might imply we had been caught inside, as the big hatch above had been screwed down.

Remarkably little water got here in by the open companionway, however loads poured in by the planks. Pumping was virtually steady. I then found the cabin prime had shifted. You possibly can see daylight by the joint.

Lighthouse on Level Perpendicular. Photograph: Peter Harrison/Getty

Within the wilderness

Land had lengthy since been misplaced to sight, and we had been alone as soon as extra within the watery wilderness. We ceased to marvel when the gale would finish. We had been moist and chilly for thus lengthy it appeared we’d been born that approach. No try to regulate the boat was made.

We simply pumped and clung to our bunks, besides that Colleen cooked one thing each day. She even produced a particular deal with on my twenty second birthday. How I’d have coped alone is questionable, as I used to be in a kind of trance by this time. I’ll have eaten however I’d by no means have cooked and I’d have needed to do all of the pumping. I’ll properly not have survived. Colleen, a registered nurse who cherished skydiving, was a lot more durable.

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Dusk introduced the added distress of blindness. The kerosene lamps wouldn’t keep alight in these situations, and we had no electrical torches. Enveloped in complete blackness, the violence continued. The severity of this gale was later confirmed by reviews from two yachts that capsized whereas mendacity ahull close by in 70 knots. In contrast to these heavier craft, Poeme, being tender and calmly ballasted, merely lay over and surfed the crests sideways.

Lastly the wind started to ease. All sail was revamped a lumpy sea, westwards with out query. Anyplace in Australia would do. I steered and Colleen pumped. Poeme leaked greater than ever.On the finish of a protracted day, a lighthouse got here into view. Three flashes each 20 seconds.

I received out all my charts north of Port Stephens. It might solely be Smoky Cape. For the reason that chart confirmed clear approaches, I made a decision to hold on by the night time, however the seas quickly grew to become noticeably steeper, then steeper nonetheless, so we turned away. As we sailed again out to the east, the seas quickly calmed. “Some present,” stated Colleen, and instantly set to fixing us some dinner.

Graham Cox was simply 22 when he tried to cross the Tasman Sea. Photograph: Graham Cox

For the reason that wind was holding us off that patch of horrible, vertical water, we hove-to and crawled beneath to relaxation. By daybreak we had been becalmed on gently undulating swells. The coast was clearly seen within the distance, tantalising, evocative. Inexperienced hills by no means regarded so beautiful, however we had been now becalmed nearby of land for 4 days.

With growing frustration, I chased each zephyr. At night time, a land breeze would fill the sails and Poeme slipped alongside quietly. By daybreak, we’d be near the lighthouse on the highest of the perpendicular cliffs, satisfied we’d be at anchor for a late breakfast. Then the rising solar dispersed the wind and the present started to suck us south once more.

Thriller guests

On the second night time, I started hallucinating. A small determine who regarded remarkably like Rupert Bear swung merrily within the rigging. Extra insidious, the squeaking rudder pintles changed into carping voices, one among which stated, ‘When he’s half asleep like this, it will be simple to stay a knife in him and roll him overboard.’ I awoke rapidly that point.

Berth aboard Poeme. Photograph: c/o Graham Cox

On the fourth day, a average southerly lastly arrived. Poeme raced north all day. This time we had been going to get in, although it was darkish once more.

I took a bearing on the sunshine with my hand-bearing compass, estimated my distance off, marked my place on the chart, and drew a course that might take Poeme straight into the bay. I used to be astounded to find, after I tried to steer this course, that Poeme was pointing on the cliffs. Swearing, I turned the boat away and returned to my chart however got here up with the identical end result.

“One thing’s occurred to the primary compass,” I stated, “we’ll must steer utilizing the hand-bearing compass.” However that produced the identical outcomes. More and more frantic, I wrestled within the cockpit with chart, a kerosene lamp which saved blowing out, and pencil, attempting to steer on the similar time. Colleen, unperturbed as normal, handed up espresso and dessert.

There was just one rational clarification, each compasses had gone bananas. I made a decision to sail in by eye, guessing my distance off the cliffs. It was scary, however quickly we had been within the bay and respiration simple, secure eventually. However the place was the quick breakwater talked about within the Pilot E book? And the bay appeared lots smaller than anticipated. I used to be nearly to anchor and look forward to daylight, after I noticed boats moored forward. ‘Good,’ I believed, ‘I’ll go over and anchor close to them.’

Poeme at Cammeray Marina in Sydney’s Center Harbour. She was a traditionally-built 24ft double-ended ketch. Photograph: c/o Graham Cox

Surprising landfall

Simply earlier than reaching the boats, jogging alongside underneath jib and mizzen, Poeme struck the rocks. Elation evaporated because the hull pounded and staggered with every passing swell. The sound of splintering wooden made me weep, however I mustered my final energy to attempt to save the boat.

Over the facet went the dinghy and I rowed off into the night time, dropping the anchor when all of the scope had been paid out. Again alongside, the dinghy immediately disappeared beneath me and I discovered myself swimming within the chilly sea, with full wet-weather gear and boots on. It took all our mixed energy to get me again aboard Poeme.

Each time the swell lifted the boat, the 2 of us heaved on the warp, however the keel continued to pound on the rocks. Mouths dry with concern, we re-hoisted the mainsail, to heel and cut back draught.

Extra warp got here in, however nonetheless the rocks clutched on the keel. We later found we had been hauling poor Poeme additional up the rocks. In my exhaustion, I’d rowed the anchor out within the incorrect path.

Defeated, we lay on the deck, considering what to do subsequent when a small rowing boat appeared. The 2 middle-aged males in it had merely rowed out from the seaside. It was such a relaxed and peaceable night time that there was no surf within the bay. They had been fishermen, and one among them rapidly took cost.

“What’s the matter, matey?” he stated. I believed the issue was fairly apparent, however it should have appeared incongruous to them. How might anybody get into hassle on a transparent, moonlit night time like this, in a bay extensive open for navigation apart from one little reef, marked clearly on the chart?

Sailor and writer, Graham Cox. Photograph: c/o Graham Cox

The tide was rising. After laughing on the place of our anchor, the boys lower the rope and towed Poeme off, placing us on a close-by mooring.

“The place are you sure for, mate?” our saviour requested.

“Effectively,” stated the Nice Navigator, “we left Sydney for New Zealand 12 days in the past, however had been pushed again by a storm. Now that we’re at Smoky Cape and midway to Queensland, we would simply go there for the winter.”

“This ain’t Smoky Cape, mate,” he stated. “That’s Cape Perpendicular on the market south of Sydney. You’re a whole lot of miles off track.”

“However, however…” I stuttered, realising immediately why none of my bearings had labored out. “However I timed the lighthouse, three flashes each 20 seconds.”

“Yep, that’s Level Perpendicular Lighthouse. You’re fortunate you missed all of the reefs on the market. They’re treacherous in heavy climate.”

He paused as Colleen and I checked out one another in sudden comprehension. Then he added, “Effectively, I reckon you’ve had sufficient by the look of you. Higher come ashore with me for some breakfast and a bathe.”

Later that day, we carried out a autopsy. It had by no means occurred to me that there may very well be two lighthouses with the identical sequence, one properly north of Sydney and one south. There have been marked variations in size of flash and hole between them, however the variations had been too refined for me to note.

I’d additionally forgotten concerning the East Coast Present. Whereas Poeme had skidded sideways down the face of waves, apparently being blown north, that insidious present had dragged us south at a fee the outdated boat would have been happy with. No marvel the waves had been steep.

“So, what now?” requested Colleen, without end sport. “I don’t know,” I stated, wanting down. “I would simply keep right here.” My voice carried as a lot of an apology as my fragile ego might supply.

“Effectively, I’ll depart then,” she stated, and inside half an hour she was gone. I by no means noticed her once more.

Purchase the Final Days of the Slocum Period from Amazon

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