New Caledonia-Sydney

The dreaded time of separation had arrived again. It is the most challenging part of living onboard. I am a reserved and quiet kid. Back in NZ, I had one friend, and we were inseparable. However, I am slowly adapting to losing friends as we part ways and make new friends if there are children on the yachts we meet. Some I will meet again somewhere else in the world, and some I will not. It is part of this new lifestyle that is mine.

I spent the last few nights in Bai du Prony, divided between my two friends' yachts, "Genesis II" and "Searcher". I really was not looking forward to this time. However, I enjoyed a wonderful time with my friends, swimming, fishing, exploring beaches, playing cards and monopoly. Oh, and on occasion, a session of schoolwork.. Of the yachts we had met in New Caledonia, six were leaving for Brisbane, two friends heading back to NZ, and only Franda II was bound for Sydney.

It was time Franda II checked her compass deviation, the magnetic interference unique to each vessel. Although there had been no significant changes onboard, no new electronics or more steel onboard (except canned goods) to affect the compass reading, routine checks of everything are necessary on yachts; they can find unexpected issues. There are several ways to find out what this deviation is.

Firstly understand that there are two different norths'. True north is the North Pole and is 0 degrees and never alters. The other is magnetic north, indicated by a magnetic compass that aligns itself to the earth's magnetic fields and only points to true north in a few places around the globe. Variation is the difference between true north and magnetic north. Every chart uses true north, so a compass rose printed on the chart indicates magnetic variation in that area at the publishing date. It also states yearly changes of variation. This enables the navigator to find true north. (The yearly difference is multiplied by the age of the chart and added to the degrees of variation. It is then added to or subtracted from the compass reading depending on whether the variation is east or west).

Franda II used the technique of checking the compass bearing against the azimuth (direction) of the sun. By knowing their position within a Nautical mile and using "navigation tables" from a book, they calculated the sun's azimuth for that day, time and position. To "check" the compass with this heading, the azimuth (true north) must be changed to a magnetic heading by adding or subtracting the variation. For example, if the variation is west, it is added. If east, it is subtracted. (true north to magnetic north)

A card is drawn up with the 8 main compass bearings, and Franda II is turned in a tight, slow circle taking compass bearings on the sun. As the compass swung around, readings were taken when the ship's heading was at the main 8 points N, NE, E, SE, S, SW, W, and NW.

When completed, there were more calculations to do. First, the compass heading had the chart variation for that area, added or subtracted. Then, it was compared to the sun's azimuth. Finally, the difference between these two numbers was the compass deviation and recorded on the cardboard deviation card. This compass deviation is then considered when the navigator sets a compass course. However, a cruising helmsman cannot continually hold a course within 3 or 4 degrees, so most deviation under 5 degrees was ignored by mum.

After Franda II had "swung her compass", she tied alongside Searcher. As there was no wind, she would not be going far anyway. So they had a last cup of tea together, and then Franda II sadly left their friends just before lunch and headed SW towards Sydney, 1064NM away.

They slowly drifted out of the paradise of New Caledonia.. It was a wonderful time for adults and children. However, Sydney was awaiting discovery. A gentle start to the passage. The log-book read 70, 101, 114, 118, and 144NM over the first five days from midday to midday.

Two nights in a row, I had woken and gone into the cockpit to "stand watch" with dad or, rather, to fall asleep at his feet. I just wanted dad to myself. Dad was my favourite and spoilt me a bit. Perhaps, as I was the "baby" of the family, the last of the litter. Dad was a very loving and affectionate father to both of us girls. However, I later discovered he had been very strict with his first two children.

Back on the farm in NZ, if I had woken in the night, it was always dad's side of the bed I'd climb into for comfort. But, of course, it lasted only a short time. Once asleep, I would be returned to my bed in the shared room with Kap.

We played the card game 500 and monopoly on that trip. Dad was the only one who didn't join in. When the weather is gentle, there is not much to do. The adults only had a three-hour night watch each, so they did not require sleep during the day. So most of the day, we were all up and about. Although there was always someone on watch. If that person wanted time out, they needed to nominate another to take the responsibility of watchkeeper. Kap and I even reluctantly managed some schooling.

Franda II had planned to stop at Middleton Reef, 125NM North of Lord Howe Island. However, a day out, the barometer started dropping, and the seas and the wind increased. Franda II was running before the wind, therefore making great time. Exhilarating sailing. But not ideal for closing a reef. With regret, the decision was made to bypass Middleton Reef, so we altered our course to pass well to the north.

It turned out to be a wise decision. The barometer continued to drop from 1017mbar down to 1000mbar. Lightning continuously filled the sky, and by 2000hrs, Franda II had the log wound off the clock, over 10 knots! We prudently dropped the Genoa and hoisted the staysail, dropping our speed below 8 knots. As we did not want to sail into the night over canvassed.

The lightning continued for 5 hours, and it had been raining steadily for the last two hours. Dad was the unfortunate person on watch when a huge clap of thunder and a 180-degree wind change caused havoc. The squall was short-lived but ferocious in its attack. Unfortunately, when dad reacted, he was far too late. The mainsail, staysail and the mizzen were all ripped. The booms had raced to the leeward side with speed, coming to a very abrupt stop when the sheet took up. The force of the stop with the wind in the sail ripped the sails. The sudden change in motion and sound of sails flogging had both sons on deck. The girls were a little slower out of their warm bunks.

The girls stayed inside the cockpit, dry and warm. Dad started the engine, and I was put on the helm with instructions to keep Franda II's "nose into the wind". Then dad joined his already wet sons on deck. Unfortunately, there had been no time to don wet weather gear. Kathryn and mum handled the sail sheets while the sails were dropped. They tightened the mainsail topping lift until the sail was lowered, then loosened it, allowing the boom to sit in the leeward boom crutch saddle, tightening the mainsail sheets to hold the boom tightly cradled. The deck lights were hardly needed as the sky was lit so brightly by the continuous sheets of lightning.

The men, drenched and cold, finally had the three sails under control. It was quieter then, as the flogging had stopped, but Franda II was knocked around by the confused seas. It was very uncomfortable. A quick conference in the cockpit had the boys out in the weather again, hoisting the smaller headsail so Franda II could continue towards Sydney at a much more sedate pace. Finally, with the engine off and the headsail drawing nicely, Franda II had steadied and, at 4 knots, was making her way westward again.

Kathryn went below to the "head" returning with the boy's towels. Then returned below to grab her father's towel from his room. Meanwhile, I had put the kettle on. A cup of tea and a slice of cake all around. Then, with dad still on watch, we all returned to our cold bunks.

Fortunately, all the sails flown that night were on booms, hence self-tacking. When the squall hit from the opposite direction, the booms had raced across to the leeward side with speed, coming to a very abrupt stop when the sheet took up. The force of the stop with the wind in the sail ripped the sail. Damaging the sails, but Franda II was safe as there was no pressure in the sails to heel her over. It would have been quite different if a head sail was sheeted fast with the wind on the wrong side of it. Dad would have lost control of Franda II's heading as the wind forced her bow off course. And with the gale-force winds, who knows the outcome.

I lay tucked back in my bunk, watching the water splashing at my porthole, trying not to think about the what-ifs? These tended to frighten me, so I would tell myself it was out of my hands and go to sleep.

The following morning Franda II wallowed in a sloppy sea. The wind had dropped again, but the seas were still lumpy and confused. There was no sail to stop Franda II from rolling with only the headsail hoisted. Therefore, she needed more speed, which required hoisting more sail. A quick inspection of the mizzen sail showed a horizontal rip at the bottom close to the boom. This made it a long tear and more challenging to mend but also allowed them to hoist and slab reef the sail so it could be used. Franda II, with the reefed mizzen up and flying the larger headsail, moved a lot more sedately through the water.

After a fortifying breakfast, the staysail and mainsail were unfurled and inspected. This needed all hands as a slight breeze was still coming from the stern. They soon realised the wind was still catching the mainsail even with all hands. So dad and we girls returned to the cockpit to change course closer to the wind. The sisters winched the sheets in as dad changed the heading. Now with Franda II close-hauled, the main was much easier to handle. Inspection showed that both sails had not ripped but had a seam that parted, making the repair job much more manageable. No new cloth was required, just some glue and stitching. It would still take a couple of days to complete - weather permitting.

It took us 3 days to fix the mainsail. We washed the seam on day one to remove the salt and dry the sail, on day two to glue and on day three to stitch. We were fortunate that the sea and wind were kind.

The coast of New South Wales popped over the horizon where and when expected on day nine and headed south. We had sailed towards the coast to make use of the southerly current. At night we headed out from land to get some sea room.

Mike contacted Sydney marine radio on day eleven and asked where we could anchor for the night. With the ocean passage nearly finished, we treated ourselves to a shower on deck to make ourselves presentable for the Aussie officials. Around midnight Franda II anchored at Watson Bay, and we gladly tumbled off to bed.