Stillwater to the BOI only, Sailed 126 miles – 6 days.
Best daily run 38nms in 9 hours, average 4.2 knots
Dear Friends,
I have not written for a while, but you’ve been on my mind all along. Here is the next chapter, well overdue, which I feel I owe to Francis and you. Hope you will enjoy it.
I bought Francis because she was irresistibly sweet and beautiful. A fitting boat for the fulfilment of my dream. I wanted to rescue her from the garden where she was stuck and give her a new lease of life. In some ways, our union was meant to be. I was in search of a new life, and so was she.
Once rigged and ready, I wanted to sail in her, instead of that I left her in the mud for 6 months and went sailing to Polynesia on a different boat. It did not look like much of a rescue or a new lease of life for her. The main purpose of my circular tour of French Polynesia with Pete was to get back to sail Francis. Otherwise, we could have sailed off somewhere else without returning to NZ after 6600 nm. When I eventually got back to NZ, I found Francis in her mud berth chez Aileen safe, bone dry and looking as pretty as ever.
I wanted to slowly and leisurely sail her around the Hauraki Gulf and get to know her. Instead, Pete and I were in a hurry to get her to the Bay of Islands for the Tall Ship Regatta in January 2018. No sooner she was kitted out in all the finery and we set off for our long sail from Stillwater to the BOI, 130 nm away.
Before setting off for the Bay of Islands, I feared the worst, bad weather, and us struggling along the coast. Suitable anchorages are spread at a distance, weather forecasts are not that accurate, strong changeable winds are the norm and with no VHF, GPS or mobile signal, I felt this was one adventure too many this year.
However, once we set off on Francis’s junk-rigged maiden voyage, I hoped it would be a leisurely cruise up the coast with entertainment provided by the birds and dolphins. It was not exactly to be. I could have never imagined how magical it would feel to be able to nearly touch the dolphins swimming along or how enthralling it is to glide through the flock of 100s of undisturbed birds floating around their wings flapping lazily. When a whale’s head surfaced only 100 meters away from us, facing us full frontal and broaching with a big head splash, all I saw was its open jaws swallowing us. Irrational fear!? Its head was much bigger than Francis’ bow, and the whale itself was at least 3 times the size. I was feeling uneasy, to say the least. Fortunately, its jaws did not open, but mine dropped, and my breath stalled. The curvature of the whale’s back took ages to vanish, followed by the tail, which I hoped would wave us a farewell instead of knocking us over. Shortly afterwards, far too soon for me to recover from the shock, it surfaced 20 meters closer. I was in awe, but did not want a third take of this game. It was far too much, up close and personal. What a thrill, once it was all over when the whale left us in its wake! I slept well in the calm of Omaha Cove that night, feeling snug and safe.
On her 2nd day on the open sea, Francis showed us how much she was loving it. She was as much fun to sail as we hoped her to be. Past Bream Head on our way to the BOI, making 5 knots on a beam reach was exhilarating sailing! We anchored under sail at a very atmospheric open bay south of Taiharuru Head and north of Ocean Beach. Sleeping was not easy in her cramped cabin.
We were making slow progress in the early morning breeze, absorbing the beauty of the coastline. A school of dolphins surfaced under Francis, playing with her bows, swapping sides, jumping around. In this mellow and happy mood, I was holding the tiller when suddenly something felt wrong. Half a mile off Elisabeth Reef, sailing in light headwind and slight seas towards Cape Bret the rudder came off, breaking the tiller as well. What a shock to see the rudder floating astern in a swell. Luckily, I managed to grab and hold onto it while Pete jumped out of the cabin to rescue it. Needless to say, I was alarmed, seeing us drifting towards the reef while Pete was hanging astern, struggling to put the rudder back on board. He kept his cool while I was thinking of waving for a rescue! Little did I know that he lost his rudder while sailing in China Moon off Staten Island and dived into freezing waters to fix it, not to mention that he apparently has a ‘track record’ on rudder issues. After struggling for a while, he managed to provisionally fit the rudder on, and we sailed back (7 miles) to Tutukaka to fix it properly.
Tutukaka’s entry is extremely atmospheric and always exciting, let alone this time. Only a week ago, while sailing in Oryx, nearly at the same spot where our rudder dropped off, we rescued a little dayboat with engine failure and towed it back to Tutukaka. Who would have thought that we would be limping in Francis into the same harbour? The split pin holding the rudder on was missing, which caused it to come off its fitting. Pete managed to sort things out by forcing the rudder back in and lashing it. We had a spare tiller on board. Early start tomorrow to catch up on the mileage lost.
We could not make it to Cape Brett the following day – the headwinds and moderate seas saw us anchoring in Whangamumu Bay, an ex-whaling station. Exhausted from an early start and excitement from the previous day, we turned in at 6 pm. The weather forecast was not ideal, but it was doable, and we decided to go for it. By now, we slept well in Francis as we got used to her tiny, cramped cabin.
At the crack of dawn, with hardly any light to see the shoreline, we sailed off the anchor. Out of the well-sheltered Whangamumu bay, the wind was blowing hard SW5-6 the seas were rough. We already had two reefs, and we have not started yet. I was wondering if we should turn back. I sensed trouble ahead and was apprehensive. We pressed on because the conditions were not unusual for this area, and we had to sail there sometime. The anchorage we were in had no signal, so we had no idea what the weather was going to be like in the next few days. After a good, fast sail to Cape Brett, we lost the wind. By the time we reached Percy Island, just off the headland, we were becalmed.
Just as well that we were carried by a strong current in the right direction, away from the rocks. With light wind and very short, steep seas, we could not motor with the outboard as it kept lifting out of the water. There were not particularly nice seas, but they are probably not unusual for this place. Once we passed Percy Island, the wind moderated.
An increase in wind in the afternoon required the engine to make any progress at all. We sailed, motored, and motor sailed. Filling a petrol tank was a feat in itself. I moved all heavy gear towards the stern and sat as much aft as possible to make the stern go further into the water to help the propeller stay in. My meagre 40kg made a difference! At times, it was blowing over 20 knots, F5, with spray blowing off the surface. With a wind on the nose, in short waves, Francis was very slow. She was stopped in her tracks with every sharp wave that came by, but she did not dive in; she cut them sharp. Francis was sturdy, buoyant and surprisingly dry. We only got splashed 3 or 4 times. She could sail into the wind and hold the course, but she could not make much progress in strong weather conditions. Nothing broke, engine performed excellently. Without it, it would have been a very long time to get anywhere in these conditions in such a little boat.
Around us, totally oblivious of our difficulties, fast tour boats sped by regularly, and helicopters flew above us, ferrying trippers back and forth. What a different perspective they’ve got of it all, I thought.
I was ready to hail any tour boat that passed by, asking for a tow of my tiny boat that struggled for hours to make little progress in rough seas. A shocking thought crossed my mind. How nice it would be to sit in the office looking at the computer screen! It was obvious that I was not enjoying the experience, nor did I appreciate the magic of wild seas, white crests, sun shining on the waves, gusts, sprays, birds…
At the end of the day, we got to the Okey Bay anchorage even though it was not an enjoyable sail to say the least. To quote Pete:
“This was some sail, a memorable sail, and not an enjoyable one!” Even by his standards!
We put Francis and ourselves through the paces. Not sure who fared better after 11 hours of hell rounding Cape Brett in Westerly force 5 – 6 on the nose. Horrible seas. Yamaha saved the day. It was good to see what Francis can take and make. She took a lot but could not make a lot.
Pete said: “We will not be taking her to the Tasman Sea!”
I was disappointed but sure that Francis sighed in relief. As for me, it wasn’t exactly the maiden voyage I envisaged. That night we slept, dead tired and exhausted.
The following day, we entered the Bay of Islands and sailed in very favourable conditions. It was sheer joy to be on her helm while sailing along in smooth water, moderate wind along one of the most beautiful sheltered waters in the world. On her wood-carved name plate, it is written: Francis H – BOI. We delivered her where she was built and originally launched, and where she belongs. The circle was completed. I was elated.
Strong gale winds blew for 3 days, and it was touch and go if the Tall Ship Regatta would take place, but it did. Francis was too small to enter, and we sailed on the ‘outskirts’ of the TSR course.
Once away from Russell, we continued towards Kerikeri inlet and then sailed through the narrow pass. I asked Pete (the Navigator), since I was on the helm (the Skipperess – albeit not naked, it was too cold), if the water was deep enough for Francis, reminding him that when I went sailing with Denis on ‘Briganza’ (a beautiful Illingworth classic), there were some shallows there.
Pete said : “ There is enough water and room for Queen Mary to go through, but maybe not for Francis!”
We laughed. I admire Pete not only for keeping his cool with me but also for finding a funny side to it. I worry so much about my little boat.
Once safely around the island, we joined the rest of the fleet at the right moment, just as Pete was planning to do, in the Albert Channel. All the junk-rig boats were coming towards us as we were sailing across. The headwind was strong, the waves too big for Francis’s liking, and while she held the course, the progress was slow. Giving way to Tystie, we tried to tack, but the strong gust hit us, and we could not complete the tack. A quick reef and another attempt saw us through. The sail displays were amazing on Thystie, Shoestring, Zebedee, Fantail and J&B. It was fun racing and trying to make ground on J&B – Francis holding her own very well. Eventually, they all left us behind, with J&B keeping us company for a while. Then Blondie crept in from astern and slowly overtook us close to the finishing line. The Committee boat blew a horn for us on a finishing line, although officially we did not take part. Francis was far too small to enter.
As we left her on anchor in Opua, surrounded by other yachts, I had the first opportunity to look at her from a distance. She looked perfectly formed, miniature, like a cute little toddler bobbing up and down. The very first person who came aboard her since we brought her to the BOI became her suitor. He said, “She is so cute. If you ever want to sell her, I will buy her. Ask me first.” I watch him falling under her spell while admiring her in deep silence. I sensed his heart going out to her in the way mine did when I saw her first. I knew Francis had seduced her new owner.
We signed the bill of sale in her tiny cockpit, celebrating her handover with a bottle of champagne. Fair winds and smooth seas, little mermaid! I wished Chris, the new owner, to have as much fun in her as I did during our brief encounter. I cannot wait to hear about the adventures that Chris is going to have in her.
It was a great relief to know that she will continue her life on the waves in the ownership of the most accomplished sailor. I was proud of her, feeling my mission of giving her a new lease of life was accomplished.
I took a month to part with Francis, sailing her in the Bay and enjoying being on her. We sailed her to Kerikeri, which was magical – downwind sailing up the very narrow river, nearly all the way to the Stone Wharf, where Murray, her builder, met us and came aboard. His toddler boat was an accomplished lady now.
Postscript:
Back in NZ in 2026, I was elated to see Francis again. Chris still owns her and lovingly maintains her. He and his partner, Nikki, love sailing her. They took her to: Tauranga, Great Barrier Island and around Hauraki Gulf. What a joy.