Welcome to Women Who Sail Australia!
WELCOME to Women Who Sail Australia!
Women Who Sail Australia (WWSA) was founded in January 2014 for a small group of women, friends on cruising yachts, to stay in touch on Facebook. The group has grown from those original ten friends to over 4000 members (all women) in 2020!
WWSA is as a place for women who love boats, travelling, and the marine environment to connect, share, and have fun.
Some of us live on boats and some of us want to. Some of us know a great deal about boats, some-not much at all. We are single; we are married; we have kids; we are retired.
Our members include circumnavigators, weekend cruisers, dinghy sailors, and those who dream of one day setting sail.
Old hands share local knowledge with those new to sailing and no question is considered too silly to ask.
A safe anchorage in strong winds? An affordable marina with access to laundry facilities? Somewhere to leave the tender while provisioning or chasing a boat part? A dog-friendly beach or park to stretch Fido’s legs? Or just a coffee and cake chat. WWSA provides the answers and opportunities.
Once a year we hold a get together, known as the Gathering on the Bay, where women interested in boats come from around Australia and New Zealand to meet for
three (or more!) days of workshops, talks, and social activities in beautiful Port Stephens, NSW. Pandemic rules allowing, our next Gathering on the Bay will be in March 2021.
And now, we have our own magazine!
We begin by chatting with WWSA group admin Justine Porter, and follow with a selection of stories WWSA members have written for SisterShip Magazine over the last two years.
So, sit back with a coffee or sundowner and enjoy our WWSA stories. We’d love to hear yours too, be sure to send them in for future issues!
Wishing you blue skies and a sweet sailing breeze,
WWSA Spotlight
Name: Justine PorterVessel name and type: Shima. Mumby 48 catamaran.
How long have you been sailing and what lead you to start?
We have always been on water in small fishing boats but got thinking about sailing to see Australia rather than doing it by road as the price of diesel was high we thought sailing using free air would be a cheaper way.
We started saving and looking at boats and then thought we should probably see if we liked sailing so did a week’s course (coastal skipper and competent crew) which was fulltime on a monohull. I liked the freedom but hated the lean and my hubby just loved it all. So, we ticked that box and continued working towards financing the dream.
Where have you sailed?
We picked up Shima after she was built in the Philippines and our maiden voyage was back to Australia six years ago a huge steep learning curve. By then we had played on a hobie cat a half dozen times, and probably did about 10 hours sailing on a small van de Stadt monohull that was our entire sailing experience apart from the sailing course about five years before. We had lots of transferable skills though and we didn’t die.
We then sailed mostly around Gove, the Wessels, and then the west coast of Queensland before jumping to the east coast and making it as far south as Port Stephens (NSW). But we always end up back in the tropics. We just sail where the wind takes us!
Who do you sail with (family/pets)?
I sail with my hubby, no pets or kids. We occasionally have family and friends on board but not often as we are usually too remote to be found.
Favourite location(s):
The Wessel Island group in northern Australia for sure is my favourite, we spent four months sailing and exploring there. We were very lucky to get full permission from the Traditional Owner and were given the locations of many hidden artworks, freshwater safe holes, and historic spots.
What do you find the most challenging about sailing/cruising?
Most challenging is figuring out where and how to reprovision easily. We walk everywhere but often we find ourselves in locations that it’s a very long walk to shops the best we have done was seven kilometres but we cheated and got lift back.
Weather can also be challenging, especially when we stay in the cyclone belt for cyclone season it is the best weather for sailing with the odd nuisance you have to deal with.
What do you find the most rewarding?
Wildlife is the most rewarding for me. I love finding critters, making friends with birds, and sharing locations with amazing creatures. The history of an area is a close second, I love all things old and love to discover hidden secrets or the true story of what was there before, hunting for remnants of life gone past is very exciting
Best wildlife encounter you’ve had on the water:
Red, the bat that got exhausted and stayed for the day on our sail bag. We contacted wildlife carers who realised he was in trouble, being miles out to sea, likely blown over by the storm the previous night. We fed him up, giving him the energy he needed to head back to mainland at dusk. He was intriguing and so trusting of us! (you can read this story in the March issue of SisterShip Magazine).
Most essential item (other than safety equipment) on board:
My most essential item is my husband, we make a great team, he makes me laugh. I couldn’t and wouldn’t want to do this without his support. Sometimes he annoys me and I
threaten him with “plip plop” that usually is enough of a threat!
Funniest thing that has happened to you while cruising/sailing:
Funniest thing was losing a bet with the crew on a monohull. The last to the anchorage had to do a nudie run! We are a fast catamaran and they have a smallish mono. They did have a head start to try even the odds, but they beat us! I stripped off and did the nudie run around the boat with them making a raucous noise to alert every boat in the anchorage to have a good look at my wobbly bits!
What do you enjoy or find helpful about being a member of WWSA?
WWSA was my absolute lifeline. I joined a few months before our maiden sail, there were only 180 members in the group back then. I asked lots of dumb questions and got so much support, love, and encouragement to get through.
During the scary stuff sailing on the way back I felt supported and they bolstered me up and gave me confidence in myself that I could truly do it. And I did! I look back now with so much more knowledge and think what we did was crazy!
The kind sharing ethos of the group hasn’t changed. I like to give up every little scrap of knowledge I have learned along the way to others just as they did for me. The learning hasn’t stopped and as I learn something new, I often discover it could have made life so much easier if I had known earlier.
We were so green but full of enthusiasm and WWSA helped us mature into safe sailors. I have made so many wonderful friendships from the group and sailed to places we would never have considered going and had fabulous journeys because of it!
Tasmania
By Sheenagh NeillThree yachts, all crewed by friends, recently set out on the adventure of the year: to explore the island of Tasmania with a full circumnavigation.
Usually, March is a time when the weather is more settled, and the winds are not so strong and more predictable. Unfortunately, this year that was not the case. Gales dominated our time away and so it started with a gale. We waited out the first nasty blow in Dover, a safe place in such conditions. A local fishing boat and a yacht at Flinders Island came to grief.
After three days, the westerlies had subsided from the 35 to 40 knots we had been experiencing and swells of seven to eight
Wednesday 22nd March we headed off with a forecast of easterly winds and swells abating to three to four metres.
It was our intention to explore the coast. Ian Johnston was collecting photographs for his cruising guide of the area. The group were sailing boats of various lengths and drafts and helping him to test the anchorages in many unchartered areas he is writing about in a book to be released later this year*.
The boats Phase Three, a Zeston 36 with a draft of 1.5 metres, Julienne, a converted wooden cray fishing boat also with a draft of 1.5 m, and Tahiti, a Sun Odyssey Jeanneau 42i with a draft of 2.15 m, set off at dawn. Ian, on Julienne, practically lives along this coast line, to him it’s like his second home so he hugged the coast and cliff faces with the confidence of someone who knew where they were heading. Paul Strong on Phase Three and his crew had also sailed there frequently. For us it was our first time. In unknown and unforgiving waters with a four-metre swell we stayed further out and tried to take snaps of the other two in the sea mist and beauty of the rugged Southwest.
Phase Three riding and disappearing in the swell near Whale Head.The occasional set would come in at over seven to eight metres, this did not phase Ian but made the rest of us keep an eye out. Sure enough we were almost put in a very tricky situation behind Louisa Island when a huge wave came through. We disappeared into a trough up to our top spreader. We estimated it around eight to nine metres high. That was not a place to anchor overnight! It was after this spot that the phrase ‘untenable’, for our trip, was born.
There is no doubt the coastline around the two capes of the south is stunning, but it also clearly showed its treacherous and unforgiving side. Having said that, it is a shame that many scurry around to Port Davey passing such beautiful picturesque places. To me places like Prion Beach, Louisa Bay, and McKay’s Gulch, put on their best for us. I was in heaven.
After that rogue wave scared the daylight out of me we continued to a beautiful place called New Harbour. There is a creek running onto a white untouched beach. New Harbour
is protected by rocks at its entrance, the length of Coxs Bluff to its east, and New Harbour Point to its west. We dropped anchor, walked along the shoreline and marvelled at the beauty of the untouched coastline.
The next day, Ian was keen to show us his favourite hideout in Ketchem Bay. I was having draft envy and watched as he manoeuvred Julienne between some rock crevices into a tiny hidey hole, anchoring there quite comfortably and declaring he was staying put for the night. We dropped our anchor in the larger part of Ketchem Bay and my partner went for a dive for abalone. The swell was not comfortable enough to stay overnight where we could fit into Ketchem Bay (in three to four metres). Untenable again. So, two of three boats headed back to New Harbour. We had a wonderful BBQ on the beach before retiring to another comfortable night’s rest on the south coastline.
The next day we all caught up again and headed around Telopea Point and past South West Cape. We had settled into the conditions by now and I was more confident in our surroundings.
As we approached South West Cape, the sun came out and it was the opportune time to connect the auto helm and take a photo of Julienne
I turned my attention to Julienne with her two masts glistening in the sun and barely recognisable behind a wave. She was so close to the shore the sea mist could be seen swirling around it in the sunlight. Through the mist, the cliffs of South West Cape were just visible.
Ian insisted we drop anchor in McKay’s Gulch. On seeing the seaweed hanging half way up the gulch and the beaten shape of the flora on the sides, it was clear that a calm day was a rarity. It made me nervous and I was relieved when it was time to move on.
The next spot was one I couldn’t have imagined would be so stunning. The sea was much calmer once we passed South West
enjoy the freedom of unrestricted movement again.
Island Bay is one of the most picturesque places I’ve ever seen. In typical fashion Phase Three went ahead and tucked herself into a small cove with a narrow entrance and shallow depth. It was so tight, Paul had to be ingenious with his stern line and use bull kelp to keep her steady.
Tahiti, with her deeper draft, found a little spot in between the bommies (submerged rocks) and kelp. The water was boiling with fish and the sun was streaming down. You would be forgiven for thinking you were in the Mediterranean.
I am no longer the confident swimmer I was, but a dip became a necessity when I overheated. Jumped in I felt the fish bashing into my body. Suddenly my sensibility hit me and I realised if the fish were swarming and panicking what else was there in the water that was potentially coming my way? I climbed out quickly, refreshed and glad nothing untoward had happened.
After a restful few hours I convinced my
Island Bay.tomorrow was early. We picked up our anchor and moved on towards Port Davey. The others followed, Julienne’s crew caught a tuna as she went.
After a brilliant sail, we arrived in Spain Bay just in time for sundowners and sashimi on the beach with other cruisers who had come straight around. That front did come through at about 30 knots at 3 am. I was very happy with our decision to head to Spain Bay.
The gales continued. Tasmanian Maritime radio joked with us about how bad it was for all of us around in Bathurst Harbour with more westerlies on the way. On played guessing games before the radio scheds – would it be gales or just strong wind warnings today? The gales held us in the confines of Port Davey and Bathurst Harbour over the next two weeks. We took the time to explore every nook we could. We even had time to do some surveying of Horseshoe Inlet. Unfortunately, the three gales that barrelled through delayed us so much our planned circumnavigation had to be abandoned.
We were able to celebrate the last of the blue moons for this year, and some madness hit our crews whilst we were anchored in Wombat Cove. The Wombat Cove Club will be remembered for a long time. But that’s another story.
With a two-day window to return back to the safer waters of the channel, the team split. Julienne continued north whilst Phase Three and Tahiti sailed overnight to New Harbour, in a
great breeze, and onto Recherche the next day.
Exploring the Southwest coastline has been the highlight of my sailing. If you can convince the weather gods to behave and you time your weather window right, then I encourage you to take the time to explore this beautiful coastline of the Southwest on the way to the safety of Port Davey.
The Reef
DENISE LOWDEN
The adage ‘it’s not the destination but the journey’ does not apply here!
Despite reports that the anchorage at Lady Elliot Island is tolerable at best, we set sail south from Lady Musgrave Island hoping for the best, with winds predicted to be light and favourable. The four-hour sail was incredibly pleasant, with large swells of up to four metres and winds that blew us straight to Lady Elliot.
The northerly approach is visually dramatic, with a long breaking surf east of the resort. We passed slowly in front of the island, hugging the fringing reef, completely mesmerised by the turquoise water, dolphins, turtles, and a mysterious shape that turned out to be a manta ray feeding at the surface.
Neither of us could contain our excitement, and the temptation to snorkel as soon as we dropped anchor was high; however, the current was raging, and we were still a few hours away from high tide.
After 30 minutes of circling (driving up and down the reef) we concluded that anchoring in the strong current at significant depth was going to be our only option. Fortunately, we recently increased our chain length from 60 m to 100 m and upsized our anchor to 60 lb (27 kg). We dropped anchor in 18 metres of water knowing that with two hours remaining until high tide we would gain at least one more metre. Using the four-to-five times scope rule we laid 80 m of chain, secured the snubber and turned on the anchor alarm.
The anchorage was robust (understatement) but secure. As we only intended to stay until 1 ambeforedepartingforBundaberg(aslong as we were secure) we didn’t really care. The island already exceeded my expectations, witnessing a plethora of marine life on the way in, I was eagerly anticipating our snorkel.
Sitting on the back deck waiting for our lunch, and the current, to settle down, I was completely taken by surprise when two manta
rays swam by. Ignoring the ‘let’s wait for the slack high tide approach’ we threw on our stinger suits, jumped into the tender and took chase (in a safe and very environmentallyfriendly way).
Given the powerful current we opted to alternate staying in the dinghy whilst the other person snorkelled (once a safety monkey, always a safety monkey!). We positioned our dinghy Lil’LY (little Lukim Yu) well in front of the manta rays with the expectation that they would swim towards us, leaving any interaction entirely up to them.
Jamie’s experience was the same, however, he’s a stronger swimmer so he managed to keep up with them for a little longer. We repeated this for almost an hour, hopping in and out of the dinghy as the manta rays circled around the island’s reefs. Occasionally duck-diving to swim deeper with them, we were completely enthralled. Eventually, they tired of either us or feeding and disappeared into deeper water. Never have I been more disappointed that we didn’t have a dive compressor and dive gear on board (something we are soon to remedy).
Despite the current working in my favour I had only a few seconds with them before they swam past. I reluctantly pulled myself back in the boat, hoping to be able to repay the favour to Jamie, as we swapped positions and repeated the manoeuvre.
Not quite exhausted, we turned the tender around to a shallower part of the reef, and, with very little remaining current, we spent the next hour snorkelling together in crystal clear water. Now it was easy to snorkel together taking turns to hold on to the painter for the dinghy. We had 20-30 m of visibility depending on our proximity to the breaking surf.
Lady Elliot continued to deliver, with an exceptionally large variety of fish and hard corals. At one point a school of perch congregated just off a large bommie, unfazed by us swimming straight through the middle
“GoProinhand,Islidintothe waterandspunaroundtosee two manta rays gliding effortlesslytowardsmefeeding inthestrongcurrent.”
of them (which of course we did repeatedly as it was so cool).
Likewise, the turtles seemed to have no fear of us allowing us to swim incredibly close. This was so unexpected, as everywhere else we have snorkelled with turtles, they swim away quickly as you approach.
Finally exhausted, we dragged ourselves out of the water and back onto the boat. During the evening the anchorage deteriorated (although our holding was secure and we did not drag). I was unable to sleep, deciding instead to stay up until 1 am for our planned night sail to Bundaberg – and indulge in the gratitude for the wonderful welcome to the marine life at Lady Elliot Island.
Reproduced with permission from SisterShip Magazine August 2018
Family
Annette Hesselmans: Mum
It has taken me a lifetime of sailing to reach this point. To have the confidence to sail 4500 nm as skipper with my 20-year-old daughter Sophie and her boyfriend Jack as crew. I do not know why it takes a perfectly experienced woman this long to believe in herself. I do know, however, that I now feel an enormous sense of achievement. I am so proud of Sophie and I for embarking on this incredible journey: sailing our yacht, Red Jacket from Osaka, Japan to Townsville, Australia. Many miles and experiences have passed under Red’s keel and I will always value sharing this experience with Sophie. I dearly hope that I have given Sophie the confidence to embark on her own journey and to believe in herself. I also dearly hope that with each female sailing accomplishment, there will be more female sailors heading out to sea.
The sail back from Osaka is considered for many Melbourne to Osaka yacht race competitors to be an anticlimax after completing this incredible double handed race. For many owner/skippers, a delivery crew is organised for the return voyage.
As one of three women competing in the race, I can vouch that competing in the Melbourne to Osaka double handed yacht race is without doubt very satisfying (to say the least) and worth many a celebration on completion. For me, the sail home was the culmination of my two year ‘Osaka’ journey. This voyage represented all that I had been striving for and the reason for entering this crazy race: endurance, pushing myself outside of my comfort zone, gaining greater knowledge and skills; and, inspiring other women to sail. Inspiring my daughter was beyond my wildest dreams.
Whilst Sophie has sailed many miles throughout her life, most of these have been as a toddler (swinging about the yacht like an orangutan); child (with our yacht full of stuffed horses with Sophie sitting in the cockpit in her jodhpurs and riding boots); or as a monosyllabic teenager, depleting the
Sailing Solomon Is to Townsville.ships batteries and stores whilst grumbling that she would rather be at a party with her friends. Actually, despite her grumblings, I think Sophie has always had a connection with the ocean and sailing. I remember on our sail to Tasmania, when Sophie was seven, her sitting in the cockpit mesmerised by the ocean and the seabirds. It always seemed that the rougher and wilder the conditions, the more captivated Sophie became.
I could not have asked for a more capable, passionate and reliable crew member than Sophie. It is not an easy sail from Japan to Australia, particularly with the changing seasons marking an end to the north easterly trades and the beginning of the typhoon season. Crossing the equator, tackling the frantic shipping traffic along the Japanese coast, coping with the extraordinary heat, constant rain squalls (we could shake reefs in and out in our sleep) and the Doldrums can make a mockery out of the strongest character. Sophie took all of this in her stride.
I must admit that Red is not the most comfortable of yachts. She is built for racing and much of her cabin is taken up with the centreboard case and central engine compartment. The galley is snug and ‘fridgeless’, the aft bunks are like sleeping in a coffin, and the navigation station is wedged behind the companionway. Throw in some leaky ports and deck fittings and Red makes backpacking luxurious in comparison!
There is also such a lot to do day after day on a leaky boat heading into trying conditions. Navigation, watch keeping, ensuring safe passage, entry into unfamiliar ports, food preparation, rest, maintenance to name but a few. To the best of her ability, Sophie shared this load and I am instilled with complete faith and trust in her. Sophie very quickly learnt to read the AIS; understand the navigation systems aboard and had no hesitation in waking me as requested with any concerns. Sophie could feel when Red was overpowered and learnt to read Red’s
‘personality’. We shook reefs in and out together; raised and lowered the Code Zero in fickle winds; negotiated the entrances to coral atolls together; dealt with grumpy warships off Saipan and thought of creative ways to use our meagre rations and too many bunches of bananas. Of course, there were a few mother and daughter tiffs, but these were quickly forgotten. To be perfectly honest, Sophie was far more mature than me. I recall sulking on the cabin top after getting grumpy when we were overpowered by a rain squall whilst Sophie was on watch.
I revelled in Sophie’s excitement at entering a foreign port; I cherished ‘happy hour’ together listening to her chatter and enthusiasm for life; I shared in Sophie’s awe at the endless sky and clouds; the beauty of the sea and animals which we saw; I observed proudly Sophie’s warmth and empathy interacting with others we met along the way; I felt Sophie’s disappointment encountering plastic waste on remote atolls and I shared in her frustration with the relentless headwinds and heat.
Sophie and I are now home and so much richer for our experiences. We both have such a sense of accomplishment. I certainly am feeling very satisfied with what we have achieved and no longer feel like I have to prove myself. I certainly hope that Sophie never feels that she has to prove herself.
Sophie is now living aboard her own yacht, Nakama and plans to sail the oceans whilst trying to save the planet all at the same time.
Sophie Snijders: Daughter
The Melbourne to Osaka had been the talk of the house for two years, first the excitement of entering and looking at potential boats, then the stress of realising the chosen boat needed lots of work and then the anticipation of the departure date. Mum had her eyes and her whole existence set on
the race and nothing would get in the way of her and the start line. Her life mission is to set an example and inspire other women to get out onto the water in confidence. I believe those close in association to mum felt moved by her ambition and motivated by her sense of adventure. Few had to remind her what she was doing wasn’t ‘crazy’ as she quite often put it but ‘amazing’. Through all the stresses, achievements and preparation of the Osaka, Mum held it in her stride and made it to the start line with my Dad as her team mate.
It was one thing for Mum to be doing the Melbourne to Osaka, but when it edged nearer to the departure date, the talk of the return trip was being thrown around. My Mum has always provided me with the best opportunities that one couldn’t even think of. My Dad too of course but we are talking about Mum here. Only recently have I been into sailing so organising the return trip, Jack (my boyfriend) and I somehow put our hands up and before we knew it the 4500 nm Japan to Australia journey lay before our eyes. Having my dearest Mumma guiding the way of our young souls she threw us quite literally in the deep end, but it couldn’t have been
better.
Mum has always dragged me off to the boat, most often when I was little, my brother and I would scream in the car ride all the way to the boat “I don’t want to go to the boat!! I hate the boat!!”. Poor Sago, our family cruising yacht, must have been so offended. As I look back, I realise we were nothing more than spoilt brats. With age when I was convinced to come sailing I was more distracted by the boys to talk to and jealous that I didn’t go to the party all my friends went too. I felt like I was missing out on all the ‘cool’ things. But once again looking back I was doing the ‘cool’ thing. To my surprise, the return trip on Red Jacket was a sail I could not miss out on. But Red would have to get to Japan first which I knew with mum’s determination nothing would stop her from reaching the finishing line. The alternator tried when it literally had a ‘melt down’ in the Solomon Sea. Mum was prepared to sail the rest of the way hand steering and with skeleton power but thankfully, Mum and Dad managed to fix the alternator keeping Red’s power supply going until the alternator was replaced in Osaka.
From leaving Osaka I was so impressed with
Breaking the Ice with the locals, Elato Is, Micronesia.Mum’s capability. Mum really did have some serious guts to take Jack and I, two fairly inexperienced crew, out into the unpredictable ocean (even with Predict Wind) on such a long journey. I don’t think many other people would be brave enough or would put absolute faith in two young people. I think you have to admire Mum for this alone. This sail was so mentally challenging as well as physically demanding. At times I didn’t know how Mum did it, as she was the person we would wake at night when a boat popped up on AIS or a light appeared that wasn’t on AIS. We would wake her for sail changes (potentially multiple times in a night) or for a scary squall. Mum held the weight of us when we were down and drained, she would bring positivity to the most difficult times.
Mum and I shared accomplishment and relief when we went through the coral atoll pass without ending up on reef; we marvelled at the beauty of land and ocean; we wondered of the depth and creatures that lurked beneath Red; together admired beautiful sunsets with vibrant colours; and we felt overwhelmed and defeated by the prolific amount of plastic pollution. Mum thrived to
help the small inhabited island in Micronesia with her nursing skills and limited first aid equipment, even giving our small provisions away because she will always put others first. People cherished her effort and rewarded her with their generosity. I lived for her enthusiasm to interact with locals or other anchored boats; I enjoyed our worldly chats with whatever we had left to drink in our small depleting alcohol department.
Mum got us safely home, through multiple seas, changing seasons, and negotiating new places. Mum and I shared the last sunrise together off Townsville, our great 4500 nm journey was coming to a close, but our hearts were open with gratitude, happiness and excitement for a hot shower.
I believe my Mum is one very strong, resilient and beautiful woman. And I think she is very much succeeding in her mission to encourage women to believe that they are capable, because I know I wouldn’t be able to do it without her courage.
Reproduced with permission from SisterShip Magazine
Sailing with a purpose
the Dogs Who Sail Facebook group
One morning a few months ago, a woman ran up and tapped me on the shoulder. “Are you the Dogs Who Sail lady?” she asked.
I had to stop and think for a moment as I’m so used to hiding behind my laptop, preferring the dogs to take centre stage. “Yes. Yes, I guess I am the Dogs Who Sail lady.”
This cheerful woman told me how much she values Dogs Who Sail. Every morning she gets up, makes herself a cup of coffee, and goes straight to the Dogs Who Sail Facebook group where she starts her day with a smile, feeling uplifted by the photos and stories of our global community of sailing dogs. This is the essence of Dogs Who Sail.
I created Dogs Who Sail when we were in the early years of sailing with our two Cocker
Spaniels, Maxy and Mel, aboard our first sailboat, a South Australian built 34-foot Duncanson called Crossroads. When we decided to become liveaboards we upgraded to a 50-foot vessel. The dogs needed a bigger space you see. We joke, and sometimes choke, that we have the most luxurious doghouse on the water.
Since I was little I have been fascinated by dogs; their personalities and antics make me smile, their loyalty and empathy warm my heart, and their companionship and cuddles teach me about openhearted love. My dogs are my family and they mean the world to me.
New to boating with dogs, I wanted to ensure Maxy and Mel were safe and comfortable on board. I hadn’t met many dog owners at the time and there was no online community devoted to sailing with dogs, so I decided to start one.
Maxy and Mel adapted exceptionally well to boating life despite being older dogs who loved the luxury of a house and big backyard they could explore at their leisure. I was proud of them and wanted to share our fun times and experiences with others who were considering having a dog on board, as well as to acknowledge that it’s not always smooth sailing. There are definitely challenges with a dog on a boat.
Our online community started on New Year’s Day 2016. Every day since we have had a new member join us who is sailing with their dog or considering sailing with a dog somewhere in the vast world.
We have almost 1,300* members globally and I believe a remarkable story accompanies each of these salty sea dogs’ adventures aboard. Dogs Who Sail was created first and foremost to celebrate boating dogs and for their humans to share information and experiences to help other dog owners make more informed choices.
Every day I am touched by the pure love our members have for their furry crew, and the owners’ devotion to ensuring their dogs have a wonderful life on the boat. I am also touched by the love for each other’s dogs and circumstances as well. Dogs Who Sail has become a space of love and support, with a depth of kindness that our pets seem to
bring out in the humankind.
Some stories that come to mind are of puppies who were born aboard, and new puppies starting their life on their boat. We get to watch them grow, they are extended family. We have a few service and support dogs who open the world for their human friends, emotionally and physically. We celebrate the life of rescue dogs who were destined for a death sentence and dogs who have been abused and traumatised but find a loving soul who takes them on an adventure at sea.
There are dogs who go out on their boats for the weekend and there are others who have circumnavigated the world. I am always touched by the strength of our Dogs Who Sail community.
* 1875 members as of July 2020
Reproduced with permission from SisterShip Magazine August 2019
www.dogswhosail.com
WWSA at sea
Cynthia Matthews
My husband and I retired in October and we are sailing our 40-year-old sturdy 38 steel ketch Horizon around Australia. Currently we are in Tasmania and we have enjoyed our time here immensely. It’s not all been easy sailing though and our overnight sail from King Island to Strahan was an adventure indeed.
We left Grassy on King Island at about 0700 and sailed and motor sailed all day and into the night heading for Strahan. At stupid o’clock the next morning (ok, about 0130) the copper pipe carrying coolant to the engine sheared off at the flange where it
No problem, it’s a sailing boat, but in order for it to move effectively you need a consistent wind, not too strong. Well, we kept looking for it and it just didn’t come. We weren’t becalmed, we made way at about 2-3
All through the night Michael did his best to
hardening metal putty but even after four attempts to join and seal the pipe it just kept on leaking.
Meanwhile, in the cockpit I spent a lot of time between looking out for dangerous things in the water, steering or adjusting the Autohelm, and going green and feeding the fish! Not my finest hours. There was only one thing I could do that didn’t make me throw up and that was to lay down in a blanket in the cockpit, groan a bit and sleep. Meanwhile while I slept Michael was correcting our course, engaging the Autohelm and ducking below every hour or so to fix the leak.
Being an ideas woman (and not to brag but I had some beauties between chucks, which Mike implemented) my best idea for the engine was to connect a pipe to our external fresh water tap (easier to fit a hose to) and to run water as needed to the header tank. We did it and ran the motor. Enough got through to keep it cool BUT it meant that I had to sit on the top step just inside the cabin with the engine going, rocking around and signalling to Mike to turn the hose off and on! We did this for about three hours when a weather change brought in 30 knot winds and 3 metre seas.
We had been in contact with Marine Rescue Strahan and on the last contact we made the decision not to attempt Hells Gate, the passage between the Macquarie Head and Entrance Island, and stay at sea. We did this for an hour in winds and seas that reminded me of film we saw of the 1998 Sydney to Hobart, but just as quickly as they had built the winds died off. Mike wanted to stay out for the night to stay safe but after 36 hours of us being awake or for me, sick, I just couldn’t see this as an option. I suggested we just sail close to the harbour entrance to see if there was a chance for us to ‘duck in’. The wind died off a bit and all looked good and our confidence returned when wham, back the weather
The header tank is in the galley under the prep bench. Usually it’s where I store all sorts of olive oils and cooking oil in thermoses but on that day they were in the sink.
came! Just as we thought it was time to turn back out again, there coming out of the harbour were two fishing vessels sent to help yippee!
No sooner had we encountered the first boat the weather became more placid and the decision was to start the engine, with me pouring and filling water from the galley tap into the header tank and that’s just what I’m doing now as I write! It takes just over 1 litre of water and I’ve propped a dolphin torch against the header tank to shine through so I can keep a check one the level so hi-tech! We should be moored within the next 15 minutes.
About me: I was scared, I did cry, I got to a stage where there was nothing to throw up but my body still tried making horrible animal noises, I felt revolting for eighty percent of the trip but I had the best person ever with me and together we achieved another journey to a beautiful place.
About him: outwardly calm at all times, briefly nurturing when between jobs (I
couldn’t and didn’t expect more), has had maybe 1.5 hours sleep (neither of us have eaten anything anywhere near substantial since a sandwich yesterday lunchtime), multi skilled and tenacious in resolving issues, able to laugh and forgive my frightened temper and not afraid to show his own, readily listened and implemented my ideas even if some didn’t work, and now just exhausted.
Now for some chicken and chips, a big scotch and a warm bed for at least 12 hours... nighty night!
Reproduced with permission from SisterShip Magazine April 2019
Safely moored at the wharf in Strahan with a very kind welcome and tying up help from Trevor who runs Stormbreaker in Macquarie Harbour.
www.womenwhosailaustralia.com
Dinghy
Sailing
Susannah Gillam
Most sporting organisations dedicate a significant amount of time and effort to retain members and expand participation. Dinghy sailing is no different, with many young sailors, particularly girls, moving out of the sport. This has been the pattern for many years, but the silver lining is the opportunity to attract these people back.
There are many reasons why we don’t sail at various times throughout our lives. My first came at about 15 when I chose to go surfing with my friends rather than sail with Dad. For many, the move from home, along with work or study commitments, and perhaps new partners, can mean sailing just does not fit in
so easily.
The committed still manage to incorporate sailing into busy lives, but few can keep up the momentum when starting a family! This will definitely put the brakes on sailing, often resulting in a complete stop. Despite intentions to continue, thinking rosters and grandparent sitting will allow for a scheduled sail each week, priorities change once babies arrive. Of course, we wouldn’t have it any other way as being with your children, particularly when they are young, is rewarding and a special time in life. Many of us willingly put sailing on hold, expecting to return to the sport when the time is right.
Unfortunately, the transition back to dinghy sailing after children, or any long break, is not easy. Changes in lifestyle, losing connections within the sailing community, finances, and a different body shape can all influence the decision to get back into a sport which was enjoyed in a different time and place. Whilst there are challenges, these can be overcome by accepting that things may need to be done
a little differently to accommodate this new stage in life. Once realised, the joy of dinghy sailing is open to all who wish to embrace it again.
One of the biggest barriers to dinghy sailing as an adult is a self-perception of being unfit and overweight. For those who are feeling this way, try going down to a dinghy club that has senior sailors and have a look as they are launching their boats. This is where the myth is revealed because most dinghy sailors are not slim, strong athletic people and a few will be collecting the aged pension! Not everyone hikes hard up the windward leg and those who don’t, chose to sail boats that do not necessitate this kind of effort. Dinghies cater for a wide range of athleticism; from the young Olympic hopefuls to great grand masters. Getting back onto the water is likely to be easier and more enjoyable with the right boat and the right attitude, one that suits fitness and sailing ability. This is a message that is key for a successful return.
Instant recall of all things sailing is unlikely, particularly if it has been a long break. Even if terms and skills are not forgotten, it can take some time to get the feel of a boat’s movement with waves, crew position, and response of the tiller. This varies across classes so several sails should be scheduled, to ensure that enough time has been spent in a particular boat, before making any final judgments about dinghies in general or suitable classes. When going for a test sail, avoid doing so in a boat that is overly
challenging or going out in difficult sailing conditions, as the experience may not be typical.
Going out on a two-handed boat with someone experienced can be a great way of refreshing sailing knowledge mentally and physically without the responsibility of having to do everything independently first time. There are also many adult sailing programs on offer and joining one of these can help ease back into sailing without feeling obliged to know everything.
With the decision to return to dinghy sailing comes a measure of commitment. This may take a number of forms but will most likely include taking out a club membership. If there is no need to purchase a boat immediately, crewing with someone as a reserve or on a regular basis has number of advantages. Apart from time on the water, it facilitates getting to know other sailors and how things work in the club, such as launching etiquette, typical wind and sea conditions, and race format. Opportunities to crew will be facilitated by being a club member and available when needed as emergency or regular crew.
Some sailing clubs have boats available for hire, either on a causal basis or for a whole season. These are often training boats so whilst they may not be race ready, they provide an opportunity to refresh skills and get involved in club sailing without having to buy a boat straight away. A hire fee and maintenance of the boat may be required.
Although racing isn’t for everyone, the provision of rescue craft on the racecourse is a good back up if things don’t go to plan. Possible gear failure or difficulties with a capsize are easier to deal with knowing help is close by if required.
Formal or informal training with a group is a very effective way of familiarising the boat and the sailing conditions of an area whilst
ensuring there is support and guidance about when needed. Women’s “Off the Beach” (OTB) coached regattas are becoming a regular feature in the sailing calendar and often boats can be hired at the venue. Group training has many benefits for sailors at all levels.
Thankfully, most classes of dinghy and catamarans have boats available for purchase to suit a range of budgets. Prices can vary from a few hundred dollars (often requiring a bit of work) to many thousands. When deciding what to buy, ensure the boat is appropriate for sailing ability, aspirations such as competition and performance, and is enjoyable to sail. If possible, consider choosing a class of boat that is already at the club because having the same boat will fast track learning the specifics of how to sail the boat well. Even if travelling to regattas, states, and nationals are not intended, there is real value in being able look at how others set-up and sail boats of the same class. Friendly, welcoming, and supportive sailors will increase enjoyment immensely. A lot can be learned about this by going back to the beach and watching them launch and retrieve their boats. If they all help each other, particularly the ones who have already got their boat out of the water, then chances are they are going to be a good group of people to sail with. They will be willing to offer help and advice, the sort of things needed to get confidence and skills back.
Many sporting activities don’t require the same time investment as dinghy sailing. It’s not just the few hours on the water that need to be factored in but also time to rig and de-rig, particularly if the boat is towed to and from the club. Time needs to be allocated to boat maintenance, packing the sailing kit, washing and drying it afterwards, and for socialising at the club. It can take up most of the day if travel time to the club is included and this is often a deterrent to
people considering a return to sport.
With a little planning however, the time required to go sailing can be significantly reduced. For example, mast-up boat storage at the club saves towing and rigging time. Setting up efficient systems on the boat decrease rigging time by reducing the number of shackles to be done up and lines to be threaded. Similarly having a system for tying the boat/trolley onto to the trailer with fewer but more effective tie downs, also saves time. After returning to sailing, I found myself at the end of the day still tying the boat onto the trailer in wet gear, whilst my sailing pals were changed and dry in the bar. We all need efficient systems and procedures. Of course, to save time the socialising can kept to a minimum, but it’s probably best to work on the other things first.
Dinghy sailing requires a complex compilation of skills, and mastery can take many hours of practice. Sometimes we place unrealistic expectations upon ourselves. When returning to the sport later in life, fitness, agility, and reflexes may not be as good as they were. It might not be possible to make sailing a priority on the weekend, and therefore commit to sail every week or attend regattas.
A return to dinghy sailing can still be easily achieved though, by acknowledging that being highly competitive, dedicated, and athletic are not compulsory! (The other myth). We choose HOW to sail and WHEN to sail. The objective is to enjoy the sport whether this means training hard and winning races or going out for a float on a nice day.
There is nothing wrong with being a fairweather sailor, staying on shore in over 15 knots, having less than perfect roll tacks, and being nervous about a capsize. If improvements come in small steps, it’s worth celebrating the gains rather than
worrying about the rate of progress.
Carefully choose the boat to sail. If it is difficult to handle in normal conditions, this will be a deterrent to getting on the water. Likewise sailing a boat that does not perform or does not provide enough of those “Wahoo” moments is similarly not a good choice for those who are competitive or like a bit of excitement. Sail with a group of people who are friendly, helpful, and good fun to be with because we spend almost as much time at the club or venue on land, as we do on the water.
If you have sailed dinghies before and have considered getting back to the sport, go for a float, go racing or go for a picnic sail but give it a go. It’s fun.
www.selkiwatersport.com.au
Women Who Sail for the Environment
What Would WWSA Do?
Justine Porter shares her tips for environmentally-friendly boat cards
As a liveaboard sailor I want to do as much as possible to care for our environment and decrease my consumerism, hopefully decreasing my footprint on our fragile planet! And I’m always looking for ways to save a dollar so it can be put towards sundowners and keep us cruising for longer.
I make my own boat cards. I use cardboard from wine casks or beer cartons and then use our boat stamp and just hand write our name, phone number and email.
It’s not as fancy as some of the brilliant cards I’ve collected but it’s certainly unique and
often gets a giggle when people turn them over and see what they are made from! Once you’ve met me you’ll understand it’s not a coincidence and is a good fit for our personalities.
Reproduced with permission from SisterShip Magazine February 2019