Arriving at the hardstand at Mackay harbour was the first sight of my new home for the next 13 days. So Far, a Swan 48 had been up in slings for a year. Now her US owner wants her in Sydney ready for his next visit.
Chris Bone of Pacific Yacht Deliveries has signed up to take her there. The crew are Saul, an Australian mountaineer and sailor living in Queenstown, NZ who has already completed several short-handed ocean deliveries; and Steve, ex-Kiwi Navy and ex-charter boat business owner. Both good allrounders.
And me. I’d sailed most summers growing up on the east coast of England, had been cruising in the Med, and coastal sailing in northern NSW the past year. I wanted a longer coastal passage, and when I’d heard about this delivery I asked Chris if I could come along to gain sea time.
This well-known production yacht was designed in 1972 by Sparkman & Stephens and built by Nautor in Finland in 1974. Hull #1 was built for Syd Fischer and very successfully raced as Ragamuffin in Australia. So Far is hull #37. She successfully completed the 2005 Newport to Bermuda Race and came first in the Aloha Cruiser-Racer Fleet in the 2005 Transpac Race (Long Beach, CA to Honolulu, HI).
Preparing for the passage
My first impression is how sleek and streamlined she looks and how open the deck is, having no companionway dodger or aft side-dodgers fitted. Steve comments that we’re likely to get pretty wet.
She’s a bermudan sloop with removable inner forestay which creates more sail combinations to suit conditions. Over the next five days we launch her and prepare for the passage. Saul becomes the ‘mast monkey’ going up in the bosun’s chair several times to sort out the rigging. We rig from scratch, do engine checks, provisioning, choosing and hoisting sails, sorting charts, get the stove and fridge functioning, check and update the contents of the massive grab bag, check for deck leaks – the list goes on.
The boat feels wonderfully solid but is in need of deferred maintenance. Quite a lot of the gear is getting outdated. There’s some super hot racing gear including a high-tech carbon spinnaker pole and some very lovely racing sheets and halyards.
Mackay marina is friendly and pleasant, fringed by cafes, and at the end of our working day we retire to the nearby hotel’s pool for a sunset drink.
On the last night we’re relaxing in the saloon and suddenly Chris gets a rather serious look on his face. We launch into extensive safety drills, abandoning ship and MOB scenarios, full check of lifejackets and safety harnesses. I’m reassured by Chris’s extremely thorough attitude to safety on board. The 30-knot southerlies that we’ve had for the last few days abate and we’re ready for the off, after waiting half an hour for clearance from Port Control we’re out and unfurling the headsails. The first night there’s plenty of shipping to contend with coming out of the Hay Point terminal just south of Mackay which keeps us on our toes.
Next day the wind drops as we motorsail past the Percy Group of islands, glad to be away from all the shipping. Gradually pass more islands and with the wind dropping we’re back up to full main.
The bananas are looking a bit brown so after a bit of rustling in the galley, I manage to produce a banana cake. When the guys wake up from being off-watch the cake is greeted with looks of dumbfounded amazement. Haven’t these guys seen cake on a boat before? Apparently not but its presence conveys considerable bargaining power.
We have a relaxed dinner on deck anticipating a bit of blow coming on as the evening progresses. There was a Strong Wind Warning out before we left Mackay for this evening and it freshens throughout the early evening until its blowing around 40 knots at midnight.
We bump upwind hour after hour. Around 3am we hear gushing water coming from the forward cabin, getting up to investigate we soon discover the forehatch latch has worked itself open wide enough to put your arm through! We quickly gaffer tape the latch in place and return to our moist berths.
Safe haven
Drips keep appearing all over the place so I run around with towels trying to stem the leaks. It’s a bumpy old night and nobody gets much, if any sleep.
 At dawn I get up from my new berth wedged between the mast and port saloon settee and try to get some hot drinks happening but it’s just too slippery and heaving so I go on deck. The three metre waves are wonderfully bracing and Chris is at the wheel; he says that we are going to make for the northwestern side of Great Keppel Island to have a rest. Phew. Coming into the lee of the island, things calm down and we anchor, sort out the damp mess below, have some long awaited bacon sandwiches and sleep like babies.
After the last few days weather I feel like I am covered in a thick crust of salt so on waking have quite a lavish shower for which I am later duly chastised. Extravagant use of water on board equals instant demotion to cabin boy.
 Strong winds continue all that day and the next so we dry out gear and go ashore for a swim and picnic. Moored close by is the 100-year-old NZ built cutter Cooee, owned by Jill Knight, who has lived aboard for the last 20 years. Steve and I do a temporary repair job on the anchor locker seal which had been causing the rapidly filling bilge problem we had coming down from Mackay.
Off again
On Saturday, all rested and with double-reefed main we head back out to sea. The wind is around 30 knots on the nose but easing. Chris helms manually for a while until we get clear then its open sea and upwind all day. There’s plenty of shipping as we get closer to Gladstone and a onepot pasta meal is the best we manage.
 I’m on deck at dawn, a few squalls are popping up on the horizon, with the wind variable. Another bumpy, cool and wet day upwind. After an early night watch I have my best sleep yet in my little berth – on starboard tack. This Swan doesn’t have a starboard pilot berth so on port tack we’re clinging limpet-like to our berths.
Monday dawns and we are south of Lady Elliott Island with the north of Fraser Island to starboard. It still feels like the middle of Aussie winter on board even though it’s late October. These poor Kiwis were envisaging some wonderful east coast tropical heat, relaxing downwind in boardshorts – but no … beating all the way in full wet weather gear and beanies! Chris comments that he hasn’t had these sorts of constant headwind conditions for ages on a delivery.
I’ve been doing most of my watches with Chris. This has been a wonderful opportunity to learn more and hear about Chris’s interesting background. He’s an affable, authoritative and easygoing person and a very experienced yacht skipper with 70,000nm under his belt.
He cites the highlight of his career so far as being the two years he spent as skipper of the Greenpeace yacht Vega during campaigns in the Pacific. As well as his delivery business Chris has set up a charity, OceansWatch, which aims to strengthen the links between the global yachting community and those who are involved in marine research, education and conservation.
Not knowing what to expect when I arrived, I’ve been impressed by how expertly Chris manages the crew dynamics and gets the best out of everyone.
The wind goes abeam at last and we have a more comfortable ride down the east coast of Fraser Island. It’s the last night for Steve as he’s jumping off tomorrow to return to Auckland so we have dinner with a tiny skerrick of merlot and get ready for our night watches. It’s a marvellous sunrise on Tuesday morning and the Sunshine Coast greets us gleaming away to starboard. As soon as we’re berthed at Mooloolaba, Steve jumps off and grabs the nearest taxi to catch his international flight.
Quick stop Mooloolaba
We use the day productively getting a local sailmaker to repair the staysail (inserting a new leech cord), fixing the water pump, refuelling, filling water tanks and provisioning, and some rapid email checking.
Mooloolaba is charming with seafood cafés strung down the riverfront. We wish we had more time, especially as a friendly local sailor has invited us along for one of their regular ‘marina’ dinners.
We’re off by late afternoon, full of Mooloolaba prawns, we head for Southport. My last watch is 3-6am on Wednesday morning and I am tired and bruised but completely happy. Jumping off as we come alongside Southport Yacht Club fuel pontoon I greet new crew member, Englishwoman Jules who’s joining the yacht for the last leg to Sydney.
Looking back at the trip, I feel that, for those with some experience, lots of enthusiasm and a willingness to work with others in a team, yacht delivery sailing, whether coastal or trans-ocean, is one of the few real adventures that are still possible; and at only a modest cost. I can’t wait to be off again.
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