August 2, 2023-Remembering the day New York Yacht Club's Boat Broke

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Young America Breaking

I am going through a photo scanning project and right now I am working with a bunch of images from the America's Cup which I made when I covered that event in 2000 and 2003. On one rough day I witnessed the amazing destruction of New York Yacht club's boat Young America and I wrote a story (see below).

I was on the photo boat loitering at the weather mark during the Luis Vitton Challenge waiting for the last boats to round. It was a grey day and rough and most of the photographers were grumbling about the poor conditions for photos as they focused their lenses on the nearest boat, Young Australia. 

I, however, was optimistic at the chance for some good shots; the waves were big and the boats coming upwind were bashing into it. I swung around to zoom in on Young America, New York's entry, just coming towards us and just as my shutter started to clatter on high speed continuous Young America hit a big wave and broke its back. I was the only photographer to get that shot. We thought the boat was going to sink and we raced over to get close, and pick up crew if need be, but Young America did not sink and was towed back to the base, broken but still floating. Read the whole story here and after that I will describe why I think the boat broke, with photos, an opinion which got me in hot water with Farr Intenational (more on that later). Here is the story I submitted after that incident:

“What has yachting come to? A bunch of wimps sailing fragile vessels that are constantly breaking apart who will not race in winds above 18 knots.  I am really upset.” (A comment from a Seattle sailor in response to the racing limits for America’s Cup boats.)

 We love to read the stories and see the videos of the Whitbread racers tearing through the Southern Ocean in gales of wind with bow waves shooting high, sailors huddled in their foulies and waves sweeping back across the decks. We all remember Freemantle and those terrific scenes of leaping boats and amazing  seamanship. So why are these guys in 1999 such wimps and why are the new boats so unsuitable for conditions we might shrug off on a typical Gran Prix?

 Actually, it’s about winning, and, as with everything with the America’s Cup, its about money.

 To win the America’s Cup a boat has to sail in upwards of 60 races. Of course the boat has be together all the way to the end to win but statistically most of the races will be in moderate conditions with winds under 20 and flat water. In those conditions a light boat will be faster than a heavy boat. The IACC (International America’s Cup Class) rule contains specifications about skin and core thicknesses but section 18.3 states, “It is envisioned that internal framing will be required to support the induced sailing loads...[but] it is left to the owner to ensure that the yacht is adequately framed.” The teams have two basic choices: Build light, go fast, take a chance on breaking, or build heavy, ensure that you won’t break, and virtually guarantee that you will be eliminated early on. So the obvious choice if you want a chance to win is to cut it fine. Push the limits, take the chance. Some of the light boats might break, but one of them will win. No yacht “built to take it”  would win.

 What about the boats that have resulted from this design decision? They are pushed to the limit, and beyond it. The hulls are light, the sails are huge, the ballast is deep and heavy, the hulls are long and lean. The forces are tremendous. Several of the skippers, including Paul Cayard and Peter Gilmore have made comments about the power of these boats and the strains they have to withstand. Cayard states, “At 55,000lb, [the IACC boat] has a tendency to be engulfed by the seas-quite an experience as you feel it shuddering as it crashes through the waves.“ Spectators, even at a distance of several hundred yards hear the creaking and groaning of the boats in heavy seas. And the rigs? They don’t even have backstays, depending on runners and the mainsails themselves to keep the rig up. These boats are extreme.

 Are the sailors really wimps? Not a chance. The boats are scary and they are undermanned. When the winds get up into the 20’s there are not enough crew to trim the sails as fast as the skippers want to turn, or as fast as the competition demands. Peter Gilmore, a veteran 12 meter sailor, said that compared to those older boats, these were undermanned. That’s interesting since they had 11 sailors on the 12 meter boats and these new boats carry 16. In 20 knots of wind there is 30 apparent across the foredeck, eight feet wide, slanting, no lifelines, leaping 10 or 15 feet in the air on the waves. Would you want to wrestle a 1500 square foot genoa on that foredeck? But they do it, and they go up the rigs in any conditions, and the sailors are clearly willing.

 So then why don’t they just take their chances and sail in whatever weather presents itself? I think this is where the money comes into play. These syndicates have all (even the poorest teams) spent a lot of money to get here, and they all want to win. No one wants to see their $4 million yacht broken or lost, and they don’t even want to lose one race through an equipment failure. New York was lucky, they have a second boat waiting in the wings. But what about America True or Spain? One boat, no second chances. Then there are the personal stakes. There have been a lot of sacrifices made to get here, a lot of reputations and careers on the line. No one wants to throw it all away being macho. So in the end there is tremendous pressure to save the boats for the finals. Sitting at home watching it on TV, I’d like to see them battle it out with huge waves. However, if it was my $4 million, I’d probably be thinking about reducing the risk too.

 I was watching Young America when it broke. The conditions were bad. The wind  was only 20 but this is the ocean and it had been blowing for days from the NE. A good swell had built up. The tide was running out of the Harbor and the waves were short and steep, the big ones were six to ten feet high. In fact it was too rough for us on the photo boat, a 45 foot aluminum hulled, 750hp inflatable. We almost didn’t make the run back up to the top mark, too punishing for just a few shots of two boats rounding, and the light was bad for photos anyhow, gray and dark. None of the other photo boats went up there, but we did. Nippon and Young America were engaged in a terrific tactical duel, both yachts approaching the mark on port tack, just below the layline, with Young America leeward and ahead by a length or two. Timing of the tack was critical. There was a big set of waves but Young America couldn’t wait for flat water. As Baird said later, “We needed to tack for the mark”. The yacht disappeared behind one big wave, then came off the top of the next wave right as the bow passed through the wind. I shot off a couple of frames as the boat dropped into the trough, and as I looked through the viewfinder I saw a huge splash and the boat broke before my very eyes. The crew looked stunned. I yelled at the driver of our boat. “Get us over there fast, right now!” We expected Young America to sink, it looked that way. No one saw Nippon round the mark, all of our eyes were on the disaster unfolding on Young America.

 In seconds we were along side, Chaos. Crew leaping in the water, the mast swinging wildly, the cracking sound of carbon fibre like shotguns as the hull continued to fold. But then it stabilized, and it was clear that it wasn’t sinking, yet. The crew cautiously went back on board and began passing off sailbags. They took down the sails and rigged a tow line. Within a few minutes there were pumps on board and airbags in the hull. Amazing stuff to see, I’m am lucky I was there.

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Comparison and details Reinforcement on the New York's Other Boat

So why did the boat break? None of the other boats broke. I believe a design decision which was unique to these boats, was made which contributed to the failure. On a very choppy day on the Hauraki Gulf New York’s USA-53 came off a wave and as it crashed down onto the next one it broke just aft of the mast. The first shows the boat breaking as it landed on that wave. The upward impact on the bow and the downward force of the mast and the keel cased the side decks to break and the hull folded. Fortunately the hull skins stayed intact and the boat did not sink. The damage can be seen in collage, Photo 3 and 4. Since no other boat broke in the way were there any unusual design or construction characteristics of USA-53 that may have contributed to this failure? The answer is yes and I wrote about it at the time. The Farr organization scoffed at my assessment, rightfully noting that I was neither a marine architect nor possessed knowledge of the engineering which went into the boat, however there were some striking and obvious differences between USA53 and other AC boats of the time. Other AC boats in Auckland that year had cockpits which formed a box with a forward bulkhead and side walls connecting the cockpit floor with the deck, adding stiffness to the midships area of the hull. USA53 had none of this structure. There were no sidewalls to the cockpit and no forward bulkhead. This can be seen in Photo 1. Further, the cockpit of USA53 ran farther forward, nearly to the mast, leaving much less deck between the cockpit and the mast. For a comparison the walls and bulkhead of La Defi can be seen in Photo 2. Imagine a cardboard tube, like a paper towel tube, with half of the top cut out. Then press down on the middle while holding the ends up. It will break right in exactly the same way as USA 53. Now imagine the same cardboard tube with a smaller cut out and a box structure taped inside. It will not break as easily. That is not to say that this is the cause. Farr organization criticized the team for not reporting cracks which had previously appeared in this area and also proposed that the lamination of the hull and deck were in adequate. But the end result of this was that the crew were spooked and subsequently treated the back-up boat USA58, with trepidation, leading to some speculate that they didn’t push as hard. They lost the Louis Vuitton series. https://www.nytimes.com/2000/01/28/sports/yacht-racing-young-america-designer-ends-silence-on-mishap.html

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Judy was part of the scene

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America True

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Fredrick Roswold, SV, Wings Mexico

Nightmare Off New Zealand-Storm of November, 1998

We've just reposted the story of the deadly storm which hit the cruising fleet sailing from Fiji to New Zealand in November, 1998, and the tragedy which followed. Read here for the full story.

Fred & Judy, SV Wings, Hong Kong

April 30, 2000- Warbirds over Wanaka.

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Warbirds

We stepped out of the car and heard a snarl from the sky like a gang of outlaw motorcycles. Diving into the valley was a flight of ancient Russian fighters, Polykarpov I-16s, and their slow turning Russian radial engines sounded like a bunch of Harley Davidson’s thumping in heaven.

I’ve been shooting the New Zealand America’s Cup for six months but that assignment is over, the Louis Vuitton media center is packed up and closed, my AC photos are cataloged and archived, and I am finished.

We are also about finished with New Zealand. Judy and I are scheduled to depart for Tonga on Wings on May 6.

During the one and a half years we’ve been in New Zealand we’ve never been to the South Island. Can we fit in a visit and maybe shoot the Warbirds over Wanaka Airshow while we’re at it?

Well, the boat is pretty much ready to go to sea, and we are, as much as we ever will be, given that no boat and no crew is ever really completely ready to go to sea, and we decided we could go by airplane to the South Island for a visit, if we are quick about it, so here we are.

First stop, Queenstown. We drove into town and took an aerial tram to the top of the mountain and saw the town, the lakes, and we saw the bungie jumping platform where daredevil kids leaped into an abyss.

Looked exciting but we had to get moving.

Then we went to Dunedin, and saw the Scottish architecture, and Bluff, at the end of the Island, and then Milford Sound, where the rain seemed to be a permanent fixture. We hit them all and even took time for a few hikes.

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Milford Sound

We learned that New Zealand was a country of mountains, ferns, and sheep. We saw a lot of sheep on the South Island. Finally we turned northward again toward the Lakes District, and headed towards Wanaka, where the air show would commence on Easter weekend, as it does every other year, and which we’ve heard was a superb show of historic military aircraft. But first we had to deal with a bunch of Jaguar cars . On the way to Wanaka we began to get passed by Jaguars. First a red E-Type with the top down. The driver had a green tam on his head and the passenger a pastel scarf which waved in the wind. It was pretty to see but we thought nothing of it.

Then an older MK 150, its spoke wheels and knock-off hubs flashing, roared past us, and there were others. They were like flies, buzzing around us.

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Jaguar

“Kiwis sure must like Jaguars”, we thought, but it wasn’t until we got to the Wanaka Airfield that we found out why we’ve seen so many Jaguars: coinciding with the air show was a Jaguar car show, and there were about 300 of them parked on the grass alongside the historic warbirds. Now I had cars to take pictures of, not just airplanes. What a bonus for me and my Nikon.

The air show was fantastic. I’d snagged pass on account of my AC cred and with my press pass hanging around my neck I was told I’d be able to wander freely among the planes.

“Can I get into the air for the aerial shots?” I asked. In Auckland I just hitched a ride on the photo boat to shoot the sailboat races; don’t they have a photo blimp or something?

Right away I found that I couldn’t get into the air for the aerial shots I wanted. It turns out that the logistics of aerial to aerial photography are exceedingly complex and no photo shoots of that sort are organized for Warbirds over Wanaka that year. OK, never mind, I’ll stick to the grass and get close to airplanes on the ground. You can check out my photos here.

I saw a lot of airplanes and talked to some interesting people. I found that the owners and pilots of these planes are extraordinarily committed people who love these planes and love flying them. They will make a lot of sacrifices to do that, including risking serious crashes. Some have had several. I learned that some of them went to Russia looking for WWII aircraft and found the Polykarpov’s in an old barn and had them shipped back to New Zealand, and now they are the only flying examples of these aircraft. I also learned about Sir Timothy William Wallis who was the inspiration and drive behind this show and who had owned and flown several of these planes and who had survived some spectacular crashes including one a few year before in a Spitfire which ended his flying career. But he still piloted the Warbirds over Wanaka airshow and for that I was thankful; it was fantastic.

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P-40s

If there was any takeaway from this I have to say that it was my realization that these old fighters are not really big, complex, highly technical machines. They are really just a huge engine, a seat for the pilot, and a wing. OK wheels, control surfaces, but not much more. I was impressed at the simplicity and, well, crudeness of it all. The pilot climbs into a seat bolted to the back of that huge engine and opens the throttle. The engine roars and the propeller starts pulling him ahead. When enough speed is achieved, the wing underneath him lifts them off the ground. Wiggle those controls and they can turn and climb. On land these aircraft are ungainly, bouncing along like waddling ducks, but in the air, wow, they have some grace. But most of all they have power; the engine dominates. You could feel the power of those engines as they flew past. We loved hearing them and watching them.

Before long, however, the air show was over and we had to get back to Auckland and get moving northward. We said goodbye to the South Island, to the Warbirds, and soon, we would be saying good bye to New Zealand.

Click here to see all of the images from our South Island trip, or click any photo above.

Fred & Judy, SV Wings, Auckland

November 9, 1999-The Day New York Broke In Two

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Drama on the Hauraki Gulf

Kauwau Cat heaved in the grey swell and the long lenses of the six photographers rose and fell with the waves to keep the big glass centered on the two AC yachts rounding the bottom mark. New York and Nippon dropped uneventfully and turned up-wind to chase after Young Australia plodding alone since her opponent had broken down. No action.

The driver engaged the big jet’s forward gear and started to turn into the wind.

“Shit! We aren’t going up there again are we?”

The sentiment was shared by four of the men. Three miles upwind in these waves was brutal punishment on the 46’ open photo boat and for what? The grey day and flat light robbed all color from any photos taken that day and the results of the race between these back runners wasn’t news, so why bother? Auckland was the other way.

But the Japanese guy wanted to shoot this race to the end. Back home it was big news.

“Let’s follow them.” He said.

“Yeah” I echoed, “let’s go up for the last rounding.” Not popular. The other photogs shook their heads sadly. But when have I been popular? Anyhow my motivation was different from theirs. I didn’t care about bright colors and blue skies. I wanted wild shots of the boats sailing in the big waves and wind; I liked the flying spray and the plunging bows in these conditions, and I took a rather masochistic pleasure from anticipation of the flying ride to the top mark. I knew what was coming if we went there. Kauwau Cat could bull the waves aside like no other and with her big diesel roaring the ride would be exciting but it wouldn’t be comfortable. The only way to take it was put the Nikon in the dry bag, button up the foulies, and take the trip leaning into it, standing so the knees could absorb the shock not seated which would punish my back and then revel in the salt spray, feel the big RIB ride the waves and troughs. Yes, I wanted to go up to the top mark one more time. I loved it.

Minority rules; the driver wouldn’t risk any complaints about going home early. We headed up wind; six men huddled with their collars turned up and their heads down to keep the wind and spray off. The engine roared when Kauwau Cat leaped off the waves and the Hamilton Jet and sucked air but driver never backed off the throttle. I liked this guy.

No other photo boats made that trip and we were going to be alone at the top mark. “OK” I thought, “I don’t care”. In fact there weren’t even any spectator boats there, just the chase boats from the two racers and an umpire boat; they had to be there.

We arrived just after Young Australia rounded and as the jet boat settled down off plane we got our cameras out. The Auzzie’s white kite was filled and they going away fast but Nippon Challenge was closer and we watched her bear away for the mark. I didn’t see any drama here. I turned to New York, a little behind and just getting to the starboard layline.

I brought up my Nikon to shoot a few frames at the tack which I knew was coming. It was a little far away even for 400mm but I was ready to bang off some shots anyhow.

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The Moment


The dark grey boat came around and then rode over a big crest and dropped into the inevitable hole after. I was shooting and I saw a big splash and then I knew something was wrong: the boat stopped in her tracks and then suddenly crumpled in half as I watched, the bow lifting to the sky like the barrel of an artillery piece while the stern itself rose like an elevator from the water carrying the stunned afterguard upward.

I must have exclaimed something because the other photographers swiveled around and started shooting too.

“Get over there!” Someone shouted to the driver.

“I can’t go inside the course”, he answered, panic in his voice.

Six voices in unison: “Get Going, Now!”

Kauwau Cat roared and heeled as the driver swung around and hit the gas.

The crew of New York was jumping off as we got there and we all expected to see the big yacht founder at any moment. The chase boats closed in to pull crew from the water but there was nothing for us to do. We circled and stayed out of the way fired off frame after frame. This was the news moment of the week and we were there. If we’d gone home early there would have been no photos of this, and thank God we were there because how would we explain that to the photo editor back at the office. “You mean you got no shots of this?” But we had it.

New York sat wallowing in the water looking like some kind of crazy Italian gondola, but it wasn’t sinking. Somehow the skins stayed intact as the hull folded. Two men climbed back aboard and started to drop the sails. A line was passed and New York’s tender started to tow the broken boat home. We followed for a while and then when it looked pretty safe that they would make it we powered up and headed in. There was film to soup, news at eleven. Yeah!

Fred Roswold

Click here for more AC Photos

May 5, 1999-Double Handed Racing in Auckland

Judy

WINGS could not stay at the dock on Memorial Day, just couldn't.

Maybe it was too many memories of Swiftsure.

So even if Memorial Day is not a New Zealand holiday, we celebrated it by sailing in the Royal Akarana Winter Double Handed series Sunday.

We had two short races on Waitemata Harbor. It was a windy, rainy, gray day and we had a blast. The Commodore of the Royal Akarana later told us WINGS looked impressive going upwind. Well, flat water and 20kts of wind, that's what WINGS loves best, so what did he expect?

Anyhow we loved hearing it. The old girl still has it. When we told them in the clubhouse bar that it was a Doug Petersen design they nodded knowingly. When I joked that Doug took a lot off of WINGS when he drew BLACK MAGIC, they just gave me blank looks. Judy had to tell them I was joking. Then they gave a little laugh. They may not have appreciated my humor, but they were nice enough.

And, anyhow, being back on a starting line in a real race, beating up the race course on a nice breeze, and even picking the jibing angle downwind...it was all too great. We loved it. We hardly even noticed that it was raining all day, after all, what would you expect for Memorial Day? The races were too short for us to fly the kite (the races, five legs each, were only 38 minutes) but we still finished first and we got a 6th and a 2nd out of 11 boats and felt pretty good. We know we'll do fine if we get a longer race with similar wind.

Fred & Judy, SV Wings, Auckland

April 04, 1999-Cruiser Goes "Dilbert"

Judy and Kay Koski

The trip back from Waiheke Island was fast, 24 miles in 2 Hours and 20 Minutes, which is 7.2 knots, over ground.

Not bad for a poled out #4 and a full main.

The wind was mostly mid twenties, occasionally as high as 27. In the old days, if this was coming home down the Puget Sound in July, or if we'd been here before and it was just sunny day out, we'd have flown the spinnaker, but this isn't our home waters yet, and it was a grey spitting day, and we didn't feel like it, so we just used plain sail.

One boat, a 30 footer fractional with full crew and a kite passed us somewhat faster than us, but we passed all the other weekenders.

Weekenders. That's what we are now.

We have, as David Jensen of Hopalong put it, gone "Dilbert", joined the corporate world. So we go out on weekends. This time it was the four day Easter weekend. We went to Waiheke Island with about 5000 other boats. Big parade out, big parade back, crowded harbours in between. But it was good to get the cobwebs shaken out. Wings seems fast since the bottom job, the sailing was easy, anchoring more so. Even the wind shift last night which blew straight into the bay where we were wasn't too bad. But we left early because it got rough enough that we didn't feel like a lazy breakfast.

Last week Kay Koski left on Thursday night, at 11:30. She had been here for a month and we really enjoyed her stay, but we worried about her long flight home. On Wednesday Bob and Carol were here too. So we had five of us sleeping on Wings that night. It worked.

Now that Kay has left Judy is about to start work herself. She has a part time job lined up. I am just finishing one contract myself and probably will start another one right away. So we'll both be going off to earn money for the cruising kitty. Thoreau wrote, "Beware of any endeavor which requires new clothes." I don't know if it true, but I did have to buy new clothes. And I think I'll get some more pretty soon too if I start this next assignment.

When I last worked in Seattle it was casual wear every day. Not so here in Auckland. Suits. No matter, I can do suits.

The commute is the weird thing.

First I ride the ferry to town, then take a bus to the railway station, then ride the commuter train out to Ellerslie.

Coming home sometimes feels strange. Since it is getting to be fall here the light is fading by six o'clock when I am standing on the lonely platform in Ellerslie waiting for the 6:03 train to come rolling around the bend. Wharehouses to the right and a freeway to the left. In between just a cold unlighted concrete platform next to a couple of pairs of tracks. Other than cars going by on the freeway, not a soul to be seen. And this is a long way from anywhere as far as I am concerned. A long way from the boat and the boat is a long way from anywhere that I can call home. It feels pretty. strange at times.

But that’s whats happens when a cruiser goes Dilbert, it gets strange at times.

Fred & Judy, SV Wings, Auckland

February 21, 1999-Auckland Backwater

Wings, at West Park

We stumbled onto a true backwater, and it has been delightful.

It started when we went looking for an inexpensive boatyard where we could do our annual haul out. Someone recommended West Park. Where is West Park?

A quick look at the map (the one which came with the van called "Lucky Lucy", thanks to Jim and Kathy who sold, donated, or left the van for us, depending on how you look at it) told us it was was up Waitemata Harbor, about 5 miles past the Auckland Harbor Bridge. We drove there in Lucky Lucy and found this nice quiet little boatyard next to a nice quiet little marina. The guy who runs the boatyard is Kevin Lidgard. I only talked to him for a couple of minutes before Doug Christy's name came up and we were talking IOR boats. He said he had five of them. Now that I think about it I remember Doug mentioning sailing on Kevin Lidgard's 50 ft IOR boat once or twice. I guess now we have completed a circle of some sort.

We hauled out on Friday and got right to work sanding the bottom, which is a hard, dirty job, but that is not the story here. It's the West Park backwater that caught us.

First we met John and Sara Peacock. They are Brit cruisers who have a cafe here at Westpark Marina. They are earning money for their next cruise while their kids finish school. They are the ones who called this place a "nice little backwater". They make good lattes and scones. We ate at their cafe each morning while we read the New Zealand Herald. They invited us to a meeting where another cruising couple were going to give a talk on cruising in Turkey.

In the laundry room there is a note from someone looking for charts of New Caledonia and Eastern Australia, and another advertising a used battery charger (trade for a solar panel or wind generator.)

Then we found our way into the Clearwater Yacht Club. It looked to us like it was really a restaurant, but they have a race schedule and some social events. We saw a news letter which mentioned that they were reducing the annual membership dues by about 50% which they thought will still give them enough to hold all the events which the club members were used to, since they had scaled down on a bunch of other stuff. Sounded good to us.

Sitting in the Clearwater Yacht Club bar tonight we overheard conversations around the room. At one table the owner of a race boat buying drinks for his new crew members after the first day together on the water. It was reminded me of some of our crew when they were younger and more naive then they might be nowadays to see these young, fresh faced, kids asking the owner if they owed him anything for the day's sailing.

Then Kevin Lidgard arrived and sat down with his wife and son, (I assume that is who they were, based on the family resemblance) and I could hear the younger Lidgard telling his dad about the dingy race he'd been in earlier. "...I caught my foot in the vang...It was awesome to be in the water but when I got back up it was nothin'. But I lost a couple of places and I couldn't get them back." I couldn't hear what dad said but I could see him demonstrate with his arms something which looked like a dingy sailor taking two hands full of main sheet and leaning back at the same time to get a little bit more with his upper body.

On the other side of us a couple were telling a third person about how their boat was for sale and they were going to get and outfit a big bus and go land touring.

Sitting there I enjoyed the ambiance of the Clearwater Yacht Club and watched the twilight fade while across the bay the lights of Auckland came one and the Sky Tower became a lighted needle. Judy went next door and took shower I had a few more beers, New Zealand Lion Red, and felt pretty good by the time we left.

On the way out we stopped by the bulletin board and read the race results and the letter from the Commodore, whose name is John Lidgard. So it's a family thing. While we were standing there reading it, someone must have seen us because the track lighting which illuminates it when on. I looked around but I couldn't see who was watching out for us.

It is a nice backwater at that.

Fred & Judy, SV Wings, Auckland

February 15, 1999-A Week on the Waterfront

Italians figure big in Auckland

Living in Auckland we like to keep up with the sailing events in the area. This week there were several:

Last Saturday the Around Alone solo racers departed Auckland on the third leg of their single handed race around the world.

With 6000 miles of southern ocean ahead of these couragous sailors, including rounding of Cape Horn, they had reason to be nervous. In fact, watching them depart, we were nervous for them. It turned out to be a bizarre day, an Italian bizarre day. The racers were towed one by one out to the starting area, with their shore crews still aboard, with each of their national anthems playing loudly from the speakers on shore and the citizens of Auckland giving them a big send off.

The spectator fleet, and the New Zealand Navy ships with the race committee aboard awaited their arrival at the starting line. Sails were hoisted, the shore crews departed, the starting cannon boomed, and 11 brave racers headed out Rangitoto channel on a close reach towards the Pacific Ocean. The spectator fleet rushed off in pursuit amid a boil of wakes and churning engines. There were a number of the crack Kiwi marine police boats hearding the spectators away. The man who lead the fleet into Auckand one month earlier, Italian Giovani Soldini, quickly sailed to the front.

Fred had scrambled aboard a power catamaran to watch the start, stowed away it turned out, since the boat was actually a privately charted chase boat for the Italian team, and was populated entirely by Giovini's Italian fans and family members. They thought he was part of the crew and the crew thought he was one of the charter party, although how they mistook an old Ballard swede for an Italian is beyond any of us.

While Giovini sailed Fila into the lead, the ecstatic Italians maneuvered their chase boat into the leading position among the spectator fleet. In fact they soon had themselves directly infront of Fila and matching their speed with his and with a giant Italian flag flying, they cheered him along yards away. The shutter on Fred's old Nikon got a work out as the photo opps from there were terrific.

So Fred rode the Italian spectator boat watching the Italian single hander head out to cross the ocean. The bizarre and tragic twist occured later in the day after the spectator fleet had peeled off and returned to Auckland. A private aircraft circled the fleet, and then in view of the leading racers, plunged into the water killing it's two occupants, who were two prominent Italians, Luciano and Giuliani Nustrini, living in Auckand. The plane they were flying was a classic high performance Falco which they had flown and air raced for 25 years. Most recently, the week before, Luciano had taken Giovani Soldini himself on a flight in the plane. It must have been horrifying to Giovani to witness his new friend's spectacular crash into the ocean.

The crash occured right in front of another competitor, American Brad Van Liew, who sailed over the crash site and found nothing on the surface but an aviation fuel slick. Within minutes however a volunteer Coast Guard member had found the bodies of the two flyers. The sailors went on. Sailing alone in the southern ocean is a tough enough thing to do without the added horror of seeing your friends killed before your very eyes as you are starting. We wondered how Giovani would be coping with this.

America’s Cup:
On the America's Cup front, we watched TV interviews of the Nippon Challenge crew member who said that while he was driving his team's inflatable on the Huaraki Gulf near the New Zealand team's AC boat, a New Zealand crew member, in one of their inflatables, repeatedly rammed him in an attempt to keep him away from their boats. We knew this secrecy issue was a big deal, but this seemed a little extreme. Then one of a US team's crew reported that he too had been rammed by the Kiwi's when he apparently violated their waterspace.

The local TV News team tried to smuggle a hidden camera into the New Zealand compound in a shopping bag. They got close, but were barred from viewing the boats.

So, a year before the Cup the intrigue is already getting into full gear.

Meanwhile the city of Auckland is going full speed preparing for this big event, one they have been waiting for since 1987, the year of their first America's Cup challenge. Every where in Auckland building is going on. The water front is a solid building site. In the Downtown area several new high rise towers are going up. Every where there are smaller projects.

The marinas too are starting to make changes for the expected cup madness. The main Westhaven marina just about doubled their prices for visitors, while other downtown berthing rates have skyrocketed out of sight in anticipation to the demand next year.

Everyone who has room for it is building docks for superyachts who will readily pay monthly rates in excess of $4000 for their 110-150 footers. Charter operators are getting their vessels ready and the police just ordered 18 new high speed patrol boats. The aviation authority has issued flight patterns to control the expected numbers of planes and helicopters over the race course, and the airport is trying to find places to park corporate jets. The have even reserved space in Sydney, Australia for overflow jet parking.

On Wings we are just enjoying the hubbub from the relative calm of Bayswater Marina, across the bay from Auckland. We take the ferry into the city to visit the shops and go to the YMCA for a workout, and Fred has been there nearly every day still working on his job search, but a lot of the time we keep out of everyone's way.

We are wondering what this place will be like in February 2000, when the Cup races actually are being sailed. One way of the other, we'll be here and we'll be able to tell you about it.

Fred & Judy, SV Wings, Auckland

January 15, 1999-Getting Back to Normal in Auckland

Fred & Judy, In Bayswater Marina, Auckland

Life at the dock in Bayswater: Normal.

At 7:00 the TV goes comes on and we wake up to BBC world news. At twenty past the hour, every hour, the wake from the ferry's arrival rocks WINGS. Since we can get French roasted coffee beans here and fresh coffee every morning is the required to get the day going. Often we have something to do in the city and it's across the bridge. Maybe to the America's Cup village to check out the AC boats, maybe a visit to the press room for the Around the World Alone boats, maybe just a shopping trip to one of the marine stores. For groceries we go to a supermarket in historic Devenport, and stop at the vegie store and the bakery. In the afternoon we might do a boat project or take a walk, and after dinner, when the phone rates go down we check email.

Pretty boring huh?

Well, just remember that we lived aboard Wings, in a marina just about like this in Seattle for ten years. To us, this is normal, and we love it.

There is a lot more to do in New Zealand than we've been doing, and probably we'll get on the ball pretty soon, but for now we are just taking it sort of easy.

We hope all is well with you, we'll write again soon.

Fred & Judy, SV Wings, Auckland

December 26, 1998-Boxing Day Cruise

A day on Auckland's busy harbor, Kiwis are boating crazy

Boxing Day: The Day after Christmas. The kids are out of school, summer is coming, the family festivities have all happened, so it's time for...a boating get away!

We joined the crowds and untied the dock lines ourselves. After all we just couldn't sit there and watch the marina empty out, which it literally did. We knew it would be crowded on the water but we needed to go sailing, the day was beautiful, and when everyone was heading out, we just couldn't resist.

Auckland harbor was like the Oklahoma Land Rush. Sailboats sailing, sailboats motoring, powerboats speeding, wind surfers, rowers, charter ferry boats, every floating thing you can imagine, all heading out. Out to the Hauraki Gulf and it's lovely cruising grounds. The only people who stayed in were the America's Cup boats. They took thier holiday away from the water. Not a one was to be seen.

We sailed. It was a beat, a nice one, and we crossed tacks with some boats for a couple of hours, and then we stopped at the first "destination" outside of Auckland.

Drunken Bay.

What a name. Amanda told us about it, having been one of her family's frequent stops. She said it could get crowded. We thought that the Kiwis would be heading farther a field, but Amanda was right. It is crowded. We arrived at 4:00 PM and it was pretty full, maybe a hundred boats. We found a hole and anchored, worrying a little about maybe being too close. Not to worry mate, plenty of room. Seven more boats anchored inside of the spot I thought was just barely big enough for us. And maybe 100 more boats arrived in the harbor total after we anchored. I don't know where the drunks are tonight, but they aren't evidently in Drunken Bay. This place, crowded as it is, is quiet, it seems like mostly families.

I remember however one occasion in Turtle Bay, Baja, when some Canadian yachts gave us on WINGS a big lecture for anchoring too close, at 100 yards. Those guys would have never believed that 25 feet is about the correct distance here in New Zealand, on Boxing Day.

I also remember one anchorage in the Channel Islands, Fry's Harbor I think. It had room for about eight boats, with minimum swinging room, and before the afternoon was ended, there were 37 boats there, all anchored bow and stern to keep them from touching. Somehow I never guessed that Los Angelinos and Kiwis would have something in common.

It's all a matter of supply and demand.

We still haven't warmed up yet in New Zealand. Sometimes the sun is warm but the air is still cool. On the sail over here we both got stiff necks from sailing in a cold wind. (That plus the tension of sailing in a crowd in waters we didn't know, where the depths are fairly shallow, like 25 feet!) So we got here, put the boat away, and came down stairs to get warm. Meanwhile our neighbors donned swim trunks and went in. Boy, these Kiwis are a hardy bunch. Maybe they are more than hardy; maybe they are a little crazy.

Maybe we just got our blood thinned out by two years in the tropics.

So this is Boxing Day:. Anchored in a pretty harbor called Drunken Bay with a couple hundred Kiwi boating families. It could be worse. We heard from person who just flew in from Seattle that it is snowing in the Pacific Northwest.

At least it is not snowing.

Fred & Judy, SV Wings, Auckland

December 12, 1998-Auckland

We never tired of this skyline

(To the tune of Paul Simon's Graceland)
We're going to Auckland, Auckland, here in NZ.


WINGS is in Auckland, city of sails
The bay of Kevlar Mains & #3 jibs, Friday night races bring out 60 yachts,
Crossing tacks up the city front, ducking at the last minute,
Green water and whitecaps, stiff wind racing every day.
This is what made Kiwi sailors so damn good.
High speed catamaran ferries speeding every direction,
Thirty foot inflatable boats purposefully heading...where?
The Sky Tower up there over downtown, barely higher than
the mast on Michael Faye's "Big Boat".
Every other Kiwi has a cell phone against their ear,
There is a mini mall on every corner, and traffic over the bridge would be hell,
but for the reversible lanes.
A small country though, it seems like everyone knows Jean Shipley, PM.
Talk radio, Rush's simpatico, is here, (the schools these days are just appalling, appalling).
Mauri names, Takapuna, Tutakaka, Houhura, Whangeri, Whangamumu.
Driving on the left side of the road. The streets are OK, but how many times will I find my self in the wrong side of a driveway or parking lot, (car park, here)?
Layaway is Lay-by, Take-Out is Take-away, a powerboat is a launch,
a shopping cart is a trundle, a dock cart is a trolley, a freeway is a motorway, a camper is a caravan, and French fries are chips,
and none of this begins to address the accents which we hear in New Zealand, (N-Zed) which is delightful, but sometimes hard to follow.

Well, we are here, we love it, and we'll write more when we get settled.

Fred & Judy, SV Wings, Auckland

December 11, 1998-Refer Madness

We've been hearing from friends who have been having problems with refers on their boats. Nice expensive units which fail and have to be fixed and replaced. It reminds us that we have a good refer story to tell:

We get our cold beer from a funny old refer which we bought from a guy on "F" dock in Seattle in 1987 for $25 at a swap meet. We would have paid his asking price of $40, but when trying to demonstrate it for us he hooked up the wires backwards and smoke billowed out through the wire screen case. We offered him a reduced amount and bought it anyhow. For 11 years it ran virtually 24 hours a day, seven days a week. It took a fair amount of power, but not an outrageous amount unless you consider that stuff was cool, not really cold. And it shakes the whole boat. It makes the stove shake. It shakes wine glasses in the rack. Any number of people have asked us, "What is on?", thinking we have some sort of new gen-set or something. No, it's just our old $25 refer. Since it never stopped we thought the thermostat was broke and that the capacity of the unit was diminished and that was why stuff never froze even though it ran all the time. We always planned on getting a new one as soon as this one quit. But it never did. In Mazatlan one day Judy got tired of the scruffy lining of the box and ripped it out (without warning or previous discussion, I might add), forcing me to redo it immediately (no bars at Marina Mazatlan you know, and one must keep his own beers cool if he wants one from time to time).

It was down for about 36 hours, which was its first and only Mexican vacation. Suddenly, upon restarting, the thermostat started working. Not much colder, but using less power, and maybe the cervesa was just a little colder. Cold enough anyhow. So we kept it on board. On the crossing it really sort of failed altogether. Ran continuously and stuff was barely below 50 degrees. It turns out that it was just seasick. A day or two after arriving in Marquesas stuff got cold again. This continued all the way across the Pacific.Our refer never really found its sea legs, but always recovered in port. Now we hit New Zealand. Damn, it turned into a freezer. It freezes meat! Beer has ice sometimes. We actually turned it down (Up?). So anyhow, we know a new unit would be better, maybe make ice cubes, take less power, but we sort of like this old friend, and we think he's earned his spot on WINGS. Besides, I am having trouble finding a new one for $25.

Fred & Judy, SV Wings, Opua

December 2, 1998-New Zealand's Northland

The rolling green countryside, more than anything, typifiies New Zealand's Northland


We've already written about our first impressions of New Zealand, and after three weeks, it hasn't changed a lot. We still like the beautiful scenery, still think it is too damn cold, still think the ocean here is dangerous but exciting, and still plan on staying here for a long time and coming back next year. How's that for consistency?

We cruised for a week in the Bay of Islands, but spent 4 days hanging on for our lives anchored in a small cove with 40-60knots of wind howling outside. The other few days we had there were beautiful. We spent a couple of days at an Island called Urupukapuka, which Fred renamed Urupukapukapukapukapukapukapukapukapuka.....and so on until people start to scream, in memory of the single cylinder Yanmar he had in a KIWI 30 several years ago. This island is government owned and managed as a recreation site, has many nice coves to anchor in, beautiful beaches and rugged cliffs, lots of hiking paths, and many many sheep on it, kept there to keep the grass mowed so people can walk around without getting their pants wet in the wet grass, (seriously, the ranger told us this). It has the typical New Zealand Northland deep green rolling hills and scattered forests of trees. It also has the constant sound of "Baaa" every where, all the time, which actually goes nicely with "Urupukapukapuka..." well, you know.

We traveled south from Bay of Islands to Tutukaka, some 1/3 of the way to Auckland, where we are as we started to write this email. It was an uneventful trip except the entrance into Tutukaka Bay. The entrance is sort of hidden back in between some rugged headlands, you can't really see it until you are well into the bay, and the waves on that day, (left over from all the storms in the previous weeks) made the approach scary. You get where you think the entrance is (hoping you have identified the correct pair of headlands) and you turn to make a direct run straight in, between huge crashing waves. As we did it the wind increased to 20 knots, just to help us speed up I guess, and Bob, who was following a quarter mile back radioed that he was "90% sure" we were going into the wrong place. Gulp! But we thought it was the right place, so we forged onward, watching the depth sounder and wondering if we could turn around in the surf if it got too shallow, and wondering what "too shallow" would be. There were a few, "Oh Man, Oh Man’s” going on. A few moments later the pass in the rocks appeared and we motored in to the marina channel, only to run aground at a kink in the channel which we missed because the marker was missing. But we wheeled around and went back a little ways (still inside the bay, out of the big surf) and waited for the tide to come up a little. By 4:00 PM we had tied up in the Marina and found the bar in the Fishing Club where they serve a nice dark ale, of which we drank several. The next day we bused over to Whangarie and picked up the nice little mini van that Jim and Kathy left for us and started to get introduced to the fun of driving on the wrong side of the road. Ho Ho I'll bet I can scare you. Just imagine, free left turns and most traffic lights have right turn signals. And when you look to your left to see behind you in the left side rear view mirror, instead you see the heater controls. That takes some getting used to. Now we just have to get the thing licensed, checked for fitness, and convince some insurance company that we should be insured. Not to worry mates, we're safe as a box of birds, as they say down under.

Another funny thing, in NZ the Maoris have a "Pffit" sound which they use to start many words, but somehow the Europeans used the letters WH to start off those words. So Whangarie is pronounced,,,"Fonggarai" and funny is spelled whunny. (now that's whunny).

Just so you don't think that the USA has a lock on silly local governments: In the Auckland area, where many marinas have been build and most marina operators, as well as virtually all of the marine related businesses are looking forward to a huge influx of foreign yachts for the America's Cup, the Auckland Regional Council had decided that they don't think it is proper for "liveaboard yachts" to be in the marinas, and they have also decided that all foreign yachts are "liveaboard" since people stay on them for more than two nights in a row. So, while the PR folks are busy advertising all the attractive things for yachties to do and all the services available to them, and the marina operators have been trying to figure out just how high the moorage rates can be pushed up, and everyone is counting on the huge influx of yachts for the America's Cup, the local government has said, "Fine, but they can't stay here in any marinas."

This impacts our immediate plans since we want to stay in Auckland for the next few months. Now we have to hope that the restrictions are eased, soon!

Fred & Judy, SV Wings-New Zealand

November 15, 1998-Nightmare Off New Zealand

Woody Goose

New Zealand bound cruising boats, including our WINGS,were hit hard in November as a series of low pressure systems interacted with reinforced trade winds to kick up strong easterly winds and big seas. In the tough conditions which resulted at least five boats were lost and there were four tragic deaths, some of whom were friends we’d cruised with across much of the Pacific.

A fleet of about 30 yachts left Fiji, Tonga and New Caledonia ports in early November with forecasts of excellent weather. The first warning was on November 11 when a Met-Service weather fax from Wellington showed a sharp dip in the isobars to the north. The real problem was the combination of this new low and the nearly stationary high to the southeast. People started to get concerned. Most of fleet from Tonga decided to hang out at Minerva Reef until the system blew over, but those of us coming from Fiji and New Cal were committed. By noon Friday we had over 30 knots of SE wind and the seas were getting bigger. The HF radio nets were full of conversations about the rough rides and about how difficult it was to make the needed easting. On WINGS, although we had made a good run in the last 24 hours, 160 miles close hauled on port tack, and we holding our line to the Bay of Islands, we were having rough going. Under a double reef main and number 4 jib we were making seven knots, right down the rumb line, but we were taking a pounding, the waves were constantly coming over the top of the boat, and the windvane was working real hard to keep us on course. We had to slow down. Eventually we wound up motorsailing under a third reef as the wind peaked at 45 between gusts which we didn’t even measure and the waves turned into small mountains.



After a rough eight day passage we arrived at 3:30 AM on November 16, in Opua New Zealand. Cold, tired, but safe, along with five or six other yachts. By the next day we started hearing about the problems the rest of the fleet was experiencing.



Woody Goose, a beautiful wooden 53ft Ketch from Britain, with husband and wife Roger and Anita aboard, was overdue. Without a HF radio, and because of several other problems they had been dealing with such as a repeatedly failing steering system and other damage suffered in a grounding in Fiji, they had been buddy boating with another yacht. During the early days of the storm the two boats lost touch with each other and Woody Goose did not come up on the VHF radio. Their friends went back for four hours looking but never again saw Woody Goose. On Tuesday Morning the word swept through the cruising fleet in Opua: Woody Goose had gone on the beach north of there and Anita was lost in the surf and drowned. Days later, during trips to the wreck site on the long sandy beach in New Zealand’s Great Exhibition Bay where the cruisers went to help salvage equipment from the broken boat, the story came out. Exhausted after days of hand steering, they had decided to anchor off the coast. Even knowing that the lee shore was dangerous, they desperately needed a rest. In the early morning hours the boat dragged, the engine wouldn’t start, and when they tried to sail off the steering failed. In the surf Anita was swept overboard, her harness was left hanging empty in the cockpit. Roger set off flares and tried to search for her, but to no avail. When help, in the form of the local constable arrived, he and Roger found Anita’s body on the beach a few hundred yards from Woody Goose’s battered hull. Even though nearly everything removable, including the engine and the masts were saved, the boat itself was a total loss, it’s ribs broken and it’s bottom ripped out.

At the same time two boats to the north west of New Zealand were also in trouble. Energetic II had been dismasted and was drifting west, away from New Zealand. Energetic II crew of three (plus one dog) were able to clean up their boat and start powering west towards Lord Howe Island. No way could they motor against the wind and seas to New Zealand. Then the news reports came in on Janamarie, another 50 plus foot New Zealand vessel on the way home with four persons aboard. They were rolled in huge seas and two persons were lost. The rig was down and the pilot house windows were all blown out. One crew member was on deck with the owner preparing to go below when the incident happened and he was washed over, never to be seen again. The owner was on deck with him but his harness held and he survived. His wife and the other crew were in the pilot house and, unbelievably, the second crew member was sucked out a broken window and also lost. The survivors were seriously injured with lacerations and broken bones, but they struggled in spite of their injuries to keep the boat afloat. Help arrived in response to their EPIRB and they were rescued. Their boat was left at sea. The rest of the fleet, including single handers Caledonia and Talisman, straggled in one by one to Opua New Zealand, all with stories to tell, but alive.

Meanwhile, well to the east, the storm had passed and the fleet at Minerva Reef headed out on their passage to New Zealand. At the start their conditions were mild and the lead boats made good time. Before any of them arrived in New Zealand however another low had formed and the coming weather was forecast to be even worse this time than the one which had hit Woody Goose, Energetic II and Janamarie. By November 27 many of the boats had made it in ahead of the storm but on that day an EBIRB signal was received from a vessel named FREYA, just east of Cape Brett off the Bay of Islands. They were dismasted, disabled, and sinking. New Zealand’s top notch air rescue services found the boat and lifted the three persons who had been on board to safety. FREYA was left at sea and not seen again. The same day a VHF distress call was received in the same vicinity from SALACIA, another boat coming from Tonga with two persons, Mike Fritz and Julie-Ann Black on board. They were also disabled and drifting towards shore, but without EPIRB to help rescuers to find them. All day and night Friday cruisers listened spellbound on VHF to the radio traffic of the searchers looking for SALACIA just west of the Bay of Islands. At the time we were all hunkered down in bays and coves with winds in the anchorages in the high 50’s and driving rain which made visibility nearly zero. The seas off the coast where SALACIA was reported to be were horrific. Early in the morning of November 28th a Kiwi Air Rescue aircraft reported that they had located SALACIA and they had vectored a merchant ship to the scene. At dawn, before a helicopter had arrived, the crew of the ship apparently attempted to rescue the two sailors from SALACIA. Later, on the ship’s VHF Mike reported that both persons were thrown life rings. He saw that Julie was in hers, (he said that she also was in a survival suit and life jacket) and then he went to the bow of SALACIA and pulled the second life ring over his own head. He was lifted aboard the ship but Julie was lost from her ring and not seen again. Mike said at first that he thought she had stayed on the boat and gone below, but no one actually saw this. When the ship returned for a second pass to get Julie, all they reported finding was wreckage from SALACIA. Even though the search was continued all day, no sign of her was found, nor was SALACIA seen afloat after that.

Wings, Anchored in New Zealand


Click here to see the log book pages of this passage.

Fred & Judy, S/V WINGS, Auckland, New Zealand