SYDNEY HOBART YACHT RACE

For the 75th Rolex Sydney to Hobart Yacht Race our Club had one yacht representing us but many people participating in this great ocean race. Sintara, owned and skippered by Derek Morrison, was our representative and besides those crewing on other South Australian yachts, two other notable sailors from the Club, Silas Nolan and James Paterson, crewed on Comanche and Ichi Ban who took out Line Honours and Handicap Honours respectively. Di Schwerdt who crewed on Sintara has written the lead article of the race on board Sintara and Silas and James have also shared their experiences with us.

DI SCHWERDT ON BOARD

The 2019 Rolex Sydney to Hobart Yacht Race, organised and hosted by the Cruising Yacht Club of Australia, was the 75th year of one of the world’s toughest ocean races and competitors from around the world gathered to be part of the historic event. This year a large fleet assembled in Sydney Harbour – 163 boats had nominated, 157 started and 154 finished. Of the superyachts, Ichi Ban claimed Handicap Honours and the Tattersall Cup while Comanche took Line Honours, finishing in 1 day, 18 hours, 30 minutes and 24 seconds, with InfoTrak (01:19:14:42) and Wild Oats XI (01:20:12:52) not far behind. Theirs was a fast downhill race that ran short of breaking any records but thrilled those who watched their progress. Others took longer and had different stories to tell. Three yachts represented South Australia: Sintara, a Beneteau 47.7 from the CYCSA, Audacious, a Sydney 38 and Enchantress, a Muirhead 11, both from the RSAYS. What follows is Sintara’s race which began well, encountered unexpected adventures along the way and finished by crossing the line in 3 days, 18 hours, 29 minutes and 5 seconds. With no other boats nominating from the CYCSA, Skipper Derek Morrison made the decision to put a crew together and go. A relatively easy race, the 13 strong crew threw everything they had into it with six experiencing their first Sydney-Hobart and the rest bringing valuable previous experience to the event: Derek Morrison (skipper and helm), Julian Kent (navigator), Paul Hicks (helm and watch leader), Dan O’Connell (helm and watch leader), Pete Donovan (helm and technical support), Tom Abbott (radio), Di Schwerdt (pit), Norm Nicholls (mast), Craig Fleming (mast and foredeck), Paul Judge, Jo Pilmore and Louise Hicks (trim) and Chantal MacClelland (bow). After a short but intense period of preparation the boat was delivered and the crew arrived race-ready in time for Sydney’s iconic race. There was some concern that smoke haze would compromise the start but despite the terrible bushfires raging up and down the eastern Australian coast the morning proved clear and bright. Sintara was out early checking the trisail and storm jib, charting the startline (number 3 for us) and selecting the correct strategy for the best possible start. Sydney Harbour was soon crammed with competitors and eager spectators on all manner of craft with police boats maintaining a necessary division between the two. The perimeter of the exclusion zone was packed with spectator boats nudging urgently at the edges as excitement built. For those of us who entered the exclusion zone there was a real sense of entering an area defined for gladiatorial combat. On the individual start lines boats prowled and tacked, intense, reined in, until the gun released them into a great surge for the Heads and with hardly an inch to spare, each and every boat jostled for some sort of advantage before hitting the open sea. Once outside the Heads, travelling in close company, we drove downwind in warm sun and 15 knot winds that suited Sintara well. Others struggled to deal with asymmetricals and kites in persistent wind gusts. For us, sea state and wind made the beginning of the long downwind leg a delight until, after 50nms (at 22 knots under spinnaker), rougher waves conspired to make steering harder. By 9:00 in the evening our assy halyard had snapped spilling sail.

11 Only then did the wind drop. With the S1 up and the halyard withdrawn from the mast the crew settled in for the long haul, luckily with increasingly good downwind speeds of 12-14 knots. At this point in the race Sintara passed a number of boats and reeled in others but there were some who would not be caught and overnight a separation began between those who had gone in towards the coast and others, like us, who were opting for the stronger current further out. At dawn the eastern sky lightened into the slowly emerging heat of the second day. No longer sailing in company we kept track of who was where through skeds and AIS. Well placed in the field, breakfasting on coffee with toasted ham and cheese after a good night’s sailing, we were, as Paul J said, ‘living the dream!’ and even the small problem of batteries recharging too slowly could not spoil the bliss of the day and the crew’s optimism. Suddenly the boat thudded into something quite large – a huge sunfish. Expecting the worst we dropped sails and checked steering and bilges for damage and water. But luck was with us and with no apparent cause for concern we pressed on placing a watch on the bow just in case there were any other sea creatures basking on the main highway to Hobart. In the meantime we were entertained by dolphins and seabirds and treated to more great weather. How gorgeous was this! In the first 24 hours we had managed to sail 200nms, nearly one third of the distance. When we radioed in to Green Cape that we were good to ‘cross the paddock’ it was late afternoon, still sunny and still downhill. Later, with weather coming in, we ate early and prepped the boat. Still downhill but with a reefed main, we would see how we would go. A lurid sunset, generated by the bushfires - even that far out to sea we could still smell smoke - made for an exotic dusk, the grey-banded, deep red sun looking more like an alien ringed planet than our own familiar sun. Within 10 minutes and in 24 knots we had shredded a favourite kite that had served us well on many exciting downhill rides, most recently on the Haystack Island Race. A moment of sadness. But then, leaping through the waves, going faster than us, 30 or more lean and muscular dolphin came charging towards the boat. What a sight! Such athletic beauty! Somehow we dragged our eyes back on to Sintara to raise the assy and pay attention to the changing sea state. The waves were increasing, lifting and skewing the rear of the boat erratically, making steering and control more difficult. Night found the drivers fighting the helm through rolling seas. At the change of watch early next morning a period of chaos began. We had been sailing a tad on the edge for about 45 minutes with waves increasing to five metres and the boat becoming increasingly harder to control. Paul H was on the helm and Derek was about to take the next watch. Suddenly the steering sheath broke. In lightning quick time three successive Chinese gybes wreaked havoc, the first gybe catching the navigation pod as the boom shot across the cockpit. On the third gybe the loose main sheet wrapped itself around Paul’s arm, the navigation pod and the throttle, wrenching Paul’s forearm away from his elbow and tossing the navigation pod straight at Derek’s head, generating significant gear breakage, acute human pain and a fair amount of head-wound blood. The crew swung into action! The wild boom was tamed and tethered by Craig and others while the injured were helped downstairs. Damage to boat and crew was quickly assessed and addressed. It is not for nothing that crews are required to undertake

safety and survival at sea training before doing the Sydney to Hobart Race! With the boat rocking and rolling and turning in circles, Julian attended to Paul’s arm and Di cleaned up Derek’s head wound. We were thinking we would probably be retiring from the race. Tom radioed in to report our situation and our approximate position. Cartouche, in the meantime had hove to, offering assistance relaying radio messages and our position. Once Paul’s arm had been splinted it was Derek’s turn to have his head sutured lying on the floor of the cabin in Julian’s lap, Di assisting and Jo calling the waves – big wave coming, stop stitching! Julian’s neat sutures executed in extremely difficult circumstances were nothing short of miraculous! Upstairs other repairs were being made. Pete worked magic to fix the steering by fashioning a new link out of stainless steel before moving on to the more complex problem of no navigation by reconnecting the pod wiring to restore navigation and instruments. Without these repairs it would have been difficult to sail Sintara anywhere. We were out in the Tasman Sea 30 hours and 250nm away from Hobart, our best landfall. Despite having lost a few hours we made a unanimous decision to continue racing. With watches rearranged we refocussed on racing. Our mid-race adventure had galvanised us into a single working team, covering for each other, working continuously across watches, until a new rhythm was established that would carry us through to the end of the race. Louise splendidly did double duty as crew and part-time nurse for Paul. Mists enveloped us as the day came to a close. Night sailing was cold and wet but even with bigger swells the boat was somehow easier to handle. We headed SSW conscious of an urgency to reach land and found ourselves in company once again: Anger Management, Chancellor, Dark and Stormy, Enchantress, Enigma, Imagination, Kioni and Philosopher were all at times within sight. Steady progress found us rounding Tasman Island and sailing towards a mist-covered Cape Raoul. What we could see of the bay and rock formations was breathtakingly beautiful but sailing was tricky. Winds were disappointingly weak, variable and on the wane. In Storm Bay we joined a large contingent of static boats and parked impatiently for hours. Before dawn the wind came in at 10-15 knots and the fleet was once again on the move. There would be a race up the Derwent after all. With Dan on the helm, Norm on main and Derek and Chantal trimming, Sintara passed 18 boats match racing to an adrenalin-charged finish. And what an emotional finish it was! We had gone from the buoyancy of the start to grappling successfully with small and large problems along the way, to facing the possibility of withdrawing from the race, to continuing then stalling in Storm Bay, before finally taking part in a challenging race up the Derwent to a wonderfully warm welcome from the crowded Hobart wharves. For us the 75th Rolex Sydney to Hobart has been a race to remember.

Di Schwerdt

Derek Morrison

Di Schwerdt

This year’s Rolex Sydney to Hobart celebrated its 75th anniversary attracting a big fleet of 157 boats. Preparations for the race started in September for Ichi Ban with the CYCA Bluewater Series race to Flinders Islet. In the week leading up to the Hobart Race a huge emphasis was placed on the weather, our polar targets and sail crossover chart. However, due to the ever-changing weather in Sydney, our sail selection was not decided on until two hours before the start of the race. The TP52 fleet had their own division this year and we started on the front line with the 100 footers. We managed to get a clean and conservative start at the top of the line and were the first TP52 out of Sydney Heads. We then blasted down the coast under spinnaker until the first light transition period later that evening. We stuck to our original plan and were able to get through the light airs without losing too much distance to our competitors. A highlight at the time was radioing in at Green Cape (the start of Bass Straight) before Wild Oats XI! From there we were back into downwind conditions that took us to the south-east coastline of Tasmania. A few hours of upwind sailing followed to get us around Tasman Island and into a very light and unpredictable Storm Bay. Stress levels were high when we could see our closest competition getting closer behind us while we were only managing three knots of boat speed. A commitment to sail to the west of Storm Bay paid off to get into the southerly breeze first and into the sea breeze up the Derwent River. A nice ride up the river under spinnaker had us finishing at 7:18pm on 28 December and 11th across the line. We had done enough on our closest rivals behind us to win our division but had to wait until the next day to see if any of the smaller yachts could beat our corrected time. Thankfully we had sailed well enough to comfortably beat all the smaller yachts and win the Tattersall Cup for the Overall Winner on IRC.

After a few days of celebrations we were back into race mode with the Australian IRC National Championships sailed from the Royal Yacht Club of Tasmania. After three days of incredibly challenging racing we won the regatta with a race to spare. The race and regatta wins on Ichi Ban are achievements that I will remember for a long time!

James Paterson

ROLEX

For this year’s Rolex Sydney to Hobart Yacht Race, my 18th, I joined the Comanche team as bowman. The maxi fleet in the race was probably the best and tightest it had ever been in the history of the race with five 100ft super maxis taking to the start line. Each team was littered with the world best of the best in offshore yacht racing. Most of the maxi fleet had undergone significant upgrades during the year so no one knew how they compared to one another until start day when the gun went. For Comanche our lead-up consisted of two solid training sessions over a couple of weeks in early December and we were pretty confident of the performance of the boat. With the likes of Mike Sanderson, Stu Bannatyne, Kyle Langford and navigation legend Stan Honey looking after the performance side of things, we were in pretty good hands. It was an interesting forecast this year, one we didn’t feel suited Comanche very well. The weather for the race was dominated by a large light air trough which had to be navigated on the second day and with Comanche being so wide it gets pretty sticky pretty quickly in the light airs. This was a huge advantage for the ‘skinny’ boats like Wild Oats, Black Jack and Scallywag. Our race plan was pretty simple, be conservative out of the harbour then put the hammer down in the fresh north easter on the first afternoon and evening to make the biggest lead we could. We knew we would lose plenty of miles in the light airs so we had to limit the damage during the trough to still be in touch with the skinny boats once we broke through to the new breeze. Once through there would be another period of solid east to north easterlies when we could make ground back before Tasman Island. Our routing had us arriving at Tasman Island in the very early hours of the 28th and, given the time of day we were to reach Storm Bay and the Derwent, we knew we needed a solid 20nm+ lead to hopefully cross the line first in Hobart. We were due to arrive at dawn which is a pretty awful time to arrive with winds likely to be super light and variable until the sun comes up. The previous year Comanche lead into the Derwent River only to ‘park up’ in the glassy conditions and get passed by Wild Oats near the finish. The first afternoon was a pretty cool experience. We were pretty slow off the start but quickly made up ground once out of the Heads and it didn’t take us long to take the lead. We spent all afternoon ripping along triple headed (three headsails set) with the big J0 on the 25ft long reaching strut, surfing at a steady 26-29 knots of boat speed. Sailing at these speeds is pretty safe whilst straight lining with everyone at the back of the boat hiking but if you need to go forward for any reason to run a sheet, check something or a make sail change, it becomes extremely dangerous with the amount of water coming across the deck. We had to make several sail changes the first afternoon so for safety you need to slow down a little bit and flatten the boat out while we are working on the foredeck. It’s a fine line though as you don’t want to lose any distance to the other boats. The helmsman will always push the limits whilst you are up there to limit any losses. That first afternoon, while spearing through waves at 28 knots, I was washed to the end of my tether three times while on the foredeck trying to set up a sail change! We had built up a pretty handy 25-30nm lead as we hit the light airs just before dark and the boat speeds plummeted. We had a lot of easterly separation from the rest of the 100 footers with Wild Oats being the most westerly boat close to the coast and it was nervous times as we were split east to west by about 50-60nm. Someone was going to be right and someone was going to be wrong, but who!

We battled the light airs for the next 18 hours and used every sail we had at some point. By lunchtime on the 27th we had wriggled through to the new breeze and Scallywag was the new leader by about 12nm and we were trading places with Black Jack and Infotrack for second and third. Wild Oats got stuck in close to the shore and had been caught by the 50s and were about 30nm back so we were pretty happy with where we were on the course. As the new breeze filled in from the east we had a better angle than the other boats to the west and were able to use our masthead Code Zero at its most optimum angle to make ground up pretty quickly. We crossed Bass Strait by dark on the 27th and boat speeds were back into the lows 20s and with 180nm to Tasman Island, it was a fast, wet and pitch black night. Not a huge amount of

ROLEX | Carlo Borlenghi

sleep was had! Our watch system was three watches rotating every two hours so basically we did four hours on deck and two hours off but in that two hours you were lucky to get about 30-40 minutes lying down with your eyes closed, maybe… The northerly breeze was back up into the high 20s and with boat speeds to match, Stan Honey nailed the Tasman Island lay line calling to gybe 100nm out and we crossed in front of Scallywag shortly thereafter to take back the lead. Four hours later we arrived at Tasman Island at 3:30am. I remember being on the bow trying to get the masthead zero down in the pitch black doing 25+ knots with solid water going everywhere and looking over my shoulder to see the towering black cliffs of Tasman Island in the loom of the lighthouse. They looked close enough to touch as we were super close and I remember thinking to myself at the time “how cool is this” and “what the bloody hell am I doing up here!” Shortly after we hit 34 knots of boat speed as we turned up into Storm Bay heading for Cape Raoul. Across Storm Bay we still had good breeze as we entered the Derwent just on dawn and had secured a 20nm lead over Infotrack who had got past Scallywag but the river still had one more curve ball to throw our way as the breeze gradually faded up the river and with about 5nm to go we were becalmed with the sails limp. Thoughts were turning to last year’s race when Comanche was passed in a similar scenario, more so when the sails of the second, third and fourth boats became visible on the horizon.

The spectator fleet, even at 6am, was pretty special. Probably 50–60 boats of all sizes came out to meet us to cheer and watch us drift along. Fortunately, after an hour of flapping, the sun started to appear and the land breeze started to filter down the river. Our huge Code Zero started to fill and we began to move again and a large sigh of relief was heard from the back of the boat. At 7:30am on 28 December in a time of one day 18 hours and 24 seconds, surrounded by a mass of spectator boats and hundreds of spectators on shore, the cannon on Battery Point went off as we crossed the line to win Line Honours in the 75th Rolex Sydney to Hobart. That was a pretty special moment to take in. A win on arguably one of best boats in the world, in one of the toughest yacht races in the world, with some of the best crew in the world, was very cool to be a part of. For me it was a very satisfying moment in my career, a Line Honours win to go along with my Handicap win back in 2011 on Loki. The beers on the dock, along with the fish’n’chips from Mure’s, had never tasted better, even at 8am. What will race number 19 hold for me next year I wonder?

Silas Nolan