Vogelsang – Hood 23 Yacht.

Saturday 15th September, 2007.

After quite a few weeks of waiting, Dave finally got around to fixing my standing rig.

I got down to the boat a bit before 11AM. The plan was to potter around on-board and fix the pump on the head (toilet) and then perhaps go for a short sail up the Parramatta River later in the afternoon. That plan quickly went overboard upon deciding that the weather was bloody great. A clear blue sky. Instead, I got straight into setting up the sails. Andrew motored over on Akvavit with his young son Hugo on board to pay a visit as we had discussed. After rafting up and soon both were on-board for a quick visit.

I sailed off the mooring at around 11:30AM in a light and flukey Westerly. Coming through “Humbug” (the mouth of the Lane Cove River between Woolwich and Greenwich) I became marooned. I could see that the wind had turned to the East out in the Parramatta River and I had hoped that as I approached towards Woolwich Wharf I would pick it up. Instead the current was determined to drift me towards the shore. Somehow I manage to drift past a submerged boulder just off the Woolwich shore. Of course the outboard was tucked away below deck – I never learn!

I finally managed to grab a little of that Easterly wind and made my way out into the Parramatta River. Looking west past Cockatoo Island the water surface indicated a clear and smooth absence of wind. So, I changed my plan and instead of heading west up the river, hauled in tight and sailed over to Birchgrove.

I ended up on a nice tack which would take me all the way into Ball’s Head Bay so I headed in for a quick explore and to check out the solitary sloop anchored there – no doubt having stayed the night. On shore a few people were sitting on the rocks on Berry Island including a woman reading.

Tacking out of Ball’s Head Bay, past the old coal loader, I worked down the harbour. Tack at Goat Island, Milson’s Point then Benalong Point. I scraped past the wharf on the western shore of Fort Denison and tacked at Cremorne Point. This put me on a port tack heading over to Point Piper. While on this tack I managed to sail close-hauled through a couple of fleets of yachts racing on the downwind leg, all on starboard tacks with their kites flying. This included sailing between two Etchells (aka “eggshells”). This made me recall the time I saw a ferry hit an Etchell in the Parramatta River near Cockatoo Island and watched the Etchell submerge itself in about thirty seconds. By some fluke I managed to sail through all the traffic without needing to once change course or tack to give way.

Another tack off Point Piper saw me on a starboard tack which took me all the way down to Camp Cove. The cherub on the right hand side of the map was blowing at about 10 knots. Another tack took me towards shore where I dropped anchor and stopped for some mungia.

A diving school had its diving flag out in the water just off the beach from the kiosk. This is the only part of the beach where boats can land because the rest of the beach is a boat exclusion zone, reserved for swimmers. I know that this is where divers enter the water to explore the “northern wall” in camp cove; but surely the dive school could have placed their diving flag over near the wall instead; where I would assume that submerged divers would actually need to signal their presence to any fishing boat that might tuck itself in close the wall to fish the reef. Sure enough, a fishing boat does exactly that. By this point, however, the dive school has packed up and removed the flag (not that it was positioned where it needed to be as per my logic.) That reminds me of the dive school which seems to permanently have a dive flag positioned right in front of the steps of the wharf at Chowder Bay.

One other observation made while anchored at Camp Cove. I notice that many power cruiser boat owners don’t seem to believe in the idea of giving anchor lines scope.

I watched the sun drop towards the horizon and figured it was about time to head home. 4PM? Nor sure as I wasn’t wearing a watch. Boat wake and wash seem to stop Vogelsang in her tracks while she runs in light wind. The wind now was dropping down towards 5 knots. So I zig-zagged my way up the harbour in a mix of broad reaches and winged runs.

As I sailed under the Harbour Bridge towards Goat Island the sun dropped along with the breeze. By the time I was passing Goat Island the twilight was extinguishing fast. The outboard is still asleep below deck so I decide to sail all the way back to the mooring regardless of how long it takes.

Sailing up the Lane Cove river I come across a weird and noisy sight. A large cruiser is anchored off the Greenwich Flying Squadron club house. Flood lights are blazing pointing aft from the fly-bridge. Astern of the boat someone in a tinny was motoring around, loitering. As I got closer I managed to figure out what I thought was happening. A guy was on a microphone counting down to the launch of shooting targets. Upon the release of each target I could hear what seemed to be synthesized gun shots. I can only guess that people on board were firing some sort of “toy” guns at the targets. The guy in the tinny appeared to be gathering in the targets once they landed in the water. How strange – the things people do (and pay to do).

Sailing into Woodford Bay I had a chat with a couple enjoying dinner on the deck of their moored yacht, Binda. Wind 2 knots. Boat speed 1 knot. Eventually I made it back to the mooring. A cup of tea, a snack and pack up.

As I piddled off the stern I figured fixing the head can wait for another day.

I got back to shore and the car at around 9PM.

10th May 2007.

Dear Mr Da Silva

The board of the Boat Owners Association of NSW has declined your application for membership and I return your cheque accordingly.

Yours Faithfully

Sue Merricks
Hon. Sec.

Scanned original here.

I find it interesting that the Boat Owners Association of NSW seems to apply a selective membership policy. The association undertakes lobbying of government and appropriate agencies on behalf of the interests of boat owners in NSW.

The association has exclusive access to certain facilities on public land for the benefit of its members such as the lease of a slipway in Woodford Bay.

Ironically, it was Don France, life member of the BOA, a well known character on Woodford Bay and tireless volunteer operator of the Woodford Bay slipway, who invited me to join the BOA in the first place.

For these reasons I will be further investigating the membership policies, selection criteria and processes of the BOA and will report back here on my findings.

The motto on the BOA letterhead reads “Representing All Boaters”. At the present moment I can only conclude, based on my personal experience, that this appears to be a misrepresentation.

After some down-time here is a quick little post. There are some strange stories to tell from last summer. Boat groundings, head on rocky reef groundings, simultaneous car-back-on-shore break-in while all that is happening. Car accidents, car getting vandalized. Dramatic rescues, tedious repairs. Last summer had it all.

I’ll write up the stories from last summer very soon. Right now I am hoping that this little post will kick-start my feedburner plugin. Let’s see if it works.

Despite the cold inclement weather I decided to head up to the boat on Saturday evening. Andrew has invited me to pop in and visit so I motor over to Greenwich. The plan is to stay on the boat tonight and then anchor off the Greenwich Baths tomorrow and help Andrew on his boat. Akvavit is on Ridley’s slipway just next to the baths.

Vogelsang’s old mooring is still vacant so I tie up to it and paddle to shore.

Andrew is cooking veal schnitzel and Roger (who was working on Andrew’s boat today) is feeding young Hugo and escaping a hens night back at his house. We all sit down to dinner while the kids watch Gene Wilder’s “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”.

Eventually I head back to the boat and decide to motor it around to Balls Head Bay where I plan to anchor for the night. As I pass Greenwich Wharf, approaching Greenwich Baths, I decide to turn down the throttle. Having done so, the motor decided to conk out. It won’t start. The southerly blows me into the moored boats just off the Greenwich Sailing Club. I decide to throw out the anchor and keep trying to get the motor going.

No luck. It is drizzling and miserable. I am dead tired. Too much partying on Thursday and Friday evening. I decide that I will be spending the night here. If I can’t start the donk tomorrow morning I will just have to sail back to the mooring.

The motor was playing up on Tuesday, but later that evening it seemed to be fine again. I should have heeded the warning it gave me then.

There is a party on at the Greenwich Sailing Club. If I am not in a bad enough mood already, the music from the party is the icing on the cake. Really bad. But at midnight the fluorescent lights go on in the club house and the music stops.

At around 3AM I am woken by the boat banging against another moored boat. The wind and current have shifted. I tie up to it and put out the fenders. I cannot get back to sleep however as I worry about the anchor and the other moored boats.

Well I must have had got some sleep because it was 8AM when I decide to try and get the motor going again. I change the spark plug. This does no good. It must be a fuel problem. I am not going to try and fix it here. I will have to take the engine off the boat and home to fix it. At around 9AM I put up the main sail. I can see that Andrew is down at the slipway. I sail up close to the shore and explain my predicament. Andrew suggests I come to shore and go and fetch his spare outboard engine. I do this, leaving the main sail on the boom tied up but ready to be hoisted.

Andrew’s outboard starts like a dream. I motor back to the mooring, tie up, and hop straight into bed. After a few hours sleep I tidy up and pack up. It has been raining and the main sail, still on the boom is wet. Puddles of water run out of it as I detach it from the rigging. I decide to bring it to shore and home to dry it out.

A quick drive over to the slipway. Andrew is there battling the terrible weather. He is sanding the first coat of an epoxy sealer he has put over the hull. Andrew has stripped back the hull and faired the keel and stern. The boat’s hull provides some shelter from the rain. I give him a bit of help hand sanding any rough bits he misses with the power sander.

It is time to head home. I am buggered. What a miserable weekend. Terrible weather, a broken down donk and an evening spent fending off the moored boats around where I was forced to emergency anchor. Oh well, it is experiences like these which make you appreciate those beautiful days when the weather is perfect and the sailing is so relaxing.

Monday 30th October 2006

I have arranged to pick up two German travellers, Anne and Francesca from the Thames Street Wharf, Balmain. I arrive at 3:30pm just as they are hopping off the ferry from Circular Quay. The north-easterly makes the pick-up from the wharf interesting. I manage to give the wharf a good nudge as I yell to the girls to “jump in”.

We motor down the harbour under the bridge. The water is very sloppy today and the wind is quite fresh. The poor little outboard has a hard time pushing us through the slop and usual ferry wake outside Circular Quay. The engine lost power a few times and I thought it was going to conk-out at one stage.

We made it to just outside Neutral Bay where I put up the number 2 and main. A typical fresh 20-25 knot NE is blowing. We put in a nice tack past Clarke Island and behind Shark Island and across to Rose Bay. We are now somewhat into the lee of Vaucluse which makes the next tack a little calmer and gives us a chance to munch on the delicious biscuits the girls have brought.

We sail past Nielsen Park, but it is time to turn around and head for the Rose Bay wharf. As we approach the wharf we lower the head sail. We have to stand off for some time while a ferry load of office workers alight at the wharf. I circle around putting in a few tacks. Eventually the ferry heads off and we go into the wharf. I luff up a little too soon and we almost don’t make the wharf. Franzesca hops off the bow, gives me her hand and we pull the boat up along side the wharf so Anne can also hop off and I can push out and sail away.

Back up with the no. 2 and I head back down the harbour. This is my first solo sail with both sails up. I am surprised at how easy it is to set the no. 2 as I go through each tack. There is a good wind but I have no problem even taking my hand off the tiller to tighten the headsail with the winches. The boat luffs up but stays on her tack. Ahhh the freedom of sailing solo handed.

From my experience so far the Hood 23 is a great little boat. I have done no tweaking of the rigging at all so far. The main does not have a cunningham. Yet it seems to hardly need one. It points well. I was concerned that the long length keel might make it a bit unruly on the run but this is not the case. The keel helps prevent the boat from rounding up and keeps it nice and stiff on the beat.

After putting a few reaches in between Shark Beach (Nielson Park) and Chowder Bay (Clifton Gardens), just for the fun of it; I sail into Watsons Bay, drop sails and pack up. I decide to go for a twilight motor cruise around Watson’s Bay and Parsley Bay. Throttling just above idle I slowly putt around the foreshore between the moored boats with a beer in my hand. The upshot of this little cruise is that I decide to anchor back where I started as this seemed the most sheltered spot. I find a mooring which is not being used and tie up to it. It is well and truly dark now.

My night time view from deck is a contrast of the city lights and the darkness of the bushland which runs from Bradleys Head to Clifton Gardens. (Does bushland run uphill or downhill?) I don’t know how long I sat on deck staring at this view and watching the Manly ferries passing every thirty minutes. Each time the city bound and Manly bound ferries passes somewhere along Bradleys Head. It took around fifteen minutes for the ferry wake to reach my boat.

In the morning, after coffee and breakfast, I spent a couple of hours scrubbing the deck, cleaning the cabin and pottering about. Then it was up with the sails. Another couple of reaches across the harbour just for the fun of it. I give a wave to the fishos anchored off Sow and Pigs reef. Then it is time to head up the harbour.

I broad reach all the way up the harbour. Along the way I make a couple of diversions. One into Farm Cove. On the other side of the bridge I head over to Balmain and sail behind Goat Island and through the dolphins off Snails Bay. Eventually I am in Woodford Bay and sail up to the mooring. Although I am hooning in on a reach the boat stops on a dime as soon as I luff it up and onto the mooring.

What a great sail. Time to head home.

Sunday 29th October 2006

Vogelsang has a new mooring in Woodford Bay, Lane Cove River.

Wiggled my arse over to Bias boating this morning to buy some bits and pieces for the dingy and the anchor. When we got to Greenwich Fausto and I motored the boat across to Woodford Bay while Jan drove my car there. I found a spot for the dingy and set up a chain and lock to secure it.

We motored out of the river and set up the sails near Birchgrove. No. 1 Genoa and main. Initially looked like there would be plenty of wind to sail the narrow and flukey passage to the bridge and past Circular Quay. It turned out the wind was quite flukey. The crew were learning the art of tacking the headsail, working the winches and trimming the sail. On a few tacks we only managed to go sideways. Soon the crew had things sorted out a bit more and we made our way down the harbour.

The wind is pretty much an easterly. We tack up to Mosman and then across to Rose Bay and then straight down the harbour across the heads to North Harbour. We sail into Quarantine Beach and drop the anchor and the sails.

This is my second trip to Quarantine Beach within one week. Today the wind is curling around the rocks and the southerly swell is managing to come into the harbour, refract off Middle head and back onto the beach. It is not as calm as last week. This does not stop us from relaxing for a while over lunch and a beer.

Once we raise the sails and the anchor and get on a reach up the harbour, Fausto takes the helm. For someone who has not sailed except once before on a catamaran, he is a natural. On the broad reach up the harbour I pull out the anchor and reorganise the anchor chain adding three meters of eight milimetre chain to the end. We head over to Clarke Island, gybe, then head under the bridge. Once past McMahon’s point I crank up the donk and lower the sails. The smoke from bushfires hangs low on the horizon and the sun turns a deep burnt orange as it drops behind it. A good time for another beer and a group photo as we chug into the Lane Cove River and back to the mooring.

Fausto is a natural at the helm

Mark, Jan and Fausto, Balmain and Cockatoo Island in background.

Post Script: I have heard on the radio that the NSW government has just signed a 45 year lease giving the old Quarantine Station over to some hotel group to build and run a hotel on the site. This is an outrage and a very sad situation. The Quarantine station and the whole North Head is both an historical and environmentally sensitive area. Fairy penguins nest and breed in North Harbour every year. The historic Quarantine station is a significant part of Sydney’s surviving heritage. The argument put by the relevant minister, Bob Devus that the development will pay for conservation of the area is complete joke. If this logic is applied to the substantial amounts of public lands around the harbour a lot of heritage, public bushland and beauty will be endangered and privatised. It is an outrage and from a government which has just about stuffed up every deal it has done with big business over public infrastructure in this state. It is not the right of the government as custodian of this significant site to hand it over to private development and use.

The transformation of old industrial land, the old power stations and the like, into ugly mechano high rise yuppie cocoons, a casino, and drab strips of sterile, heavily landscaped, public access waterside “parklands” over the past twenty years has disfigured Sydney Harbour and the Parammatta River enough already. It is a sad indictment of modern architecture and design that one hundred year old power stations and old decaying docks looked so aesthetic and sympathetic in the harbour side landscape in comparison with what has replaced them.

Yesterday I took Manuel and Jens (who are visiting from Germany) out for a sail.

The highlight for me was seeing a seal perched upon the western channel starboard marker off Middle Head.

Upon leaving Greenwich there was not much wind up so we decided to motor down the harbour, under the bridge towards Kirribilli. By the time we got to Kirribilli we each had a beer in hand and my German guests were also busy taking their holiday photos of the sights. So I continued to motor until we reached Curraghbeena Point between Mosman Bay and Little Sirius Cove.

There was a nice 8-10 knot NE blowing and I decided to put up the no.1. There is some sorting out of halyards which still needs to be done but we managed to get under sail without too much bother.

A port tack took us behind Shark Island and over to the Eastern side of Rose Bay. This allowed us to make a starboard tack all the way up the harbour, across the open waters between the heads and into North Harbour. One more port tack saw us puffing into the lee of Quarantine Beach where we dropped the sails and anchored. We could have easily handled the no. 2 genoa on the trip up, but the no. 3 gave us a very leisurely cruise from Curraghbeena Point to Quarantine Beach in about one hour and maybe a quarter hour more.

A late lunch in the crisp afternoon sunshine and of course another beer. As the clock approached 4:30pm I was eager for us to head off so that we would have enough light to get back home. (No nav lights – solar panel installation and battery recharge will have to be next week). One of the crew needed encouragement to scull his beer. By this stage I had already changed the headsail over to the no. 2 genoa.

We got under sail, lifted the anchor and pointed up the harbour. We passed our friend the seal once more and broad reached all the way over towards Clarke Island. This allowed us to gybe onto a starboard square reach through a (pre-season?) twilight regatta coming the other way.

At Kirribilli we dropped sails as the sun dropped over the horizon. We motored back to Greenwich and tied up. By the time we were drinking a hot cuppa the twilight was all but gone.

It was a beautiful day spent puffing along the harbour, relaxing on deck with no dramas or worries. She’s lovely company to have, my dear Vogelsang.

Post Script: Tiller extension repaired to original condition (as per when I purchased) and re-attached to tiller. It is not a great attachment. I might need to install an alternative universal joint.

I had another leisurely day onboard Vogelsang the other day. I picked up Britt from Greenwich Wharf and we caught up and had a chat while we motored ever so slowly over to Drummoyne and to All Craft Marine. I had motored over to All Craft Marine a couple of days earlier and had wanted to tie up and have a chat with John Lord the manager, but it was dead low tide and I ended up grounding myself on his slipway instead. Well we did have a chat eventually which is why I returned. Vogelsang needs a boat code so I can transfer ownership to myself. Beaurocracy and more expense!

Britt helped me tie up and we popped up to the office to do all the paperwork. Before we knew it we were back on the water and putting back to the Lane Cove River. It is hot today and a breeze is coming up. It would be nice to have a sail. Britt, however, needs to be back at the Wharf at 1pm. She has to work this afternoon. So we just motor along ever so slowly and have a good chat and a catch up.

We get to Gore Creek which is where I have been allocated a mooring (soon to be put in) and stop for lunch. Soon it is time to drop Britt off at Greenwich wharf. As we approach I can see my mate Andrew walking down the street. I hail him and he comes down to the wharf. He has a camera hanging around his neck. As Britt hops off, Andrew hops on. He mutters a few words. I can make out a few phrases such as “bloody council”, something about a D.A (Development Application) he has put in and needing to take photos.

Before long Andrew has forgotten his terrestrial troubles and is setting up the sheets asking me to pass up the sails and tugging at the halyards.

It is a beautiful typical Sydney arvo. A NE is blowing and we work our way down the harbour past Long Nose Point (Birchgrove). We circumnavigate Goat Island and put in some nice reaches as we meander back. Strangely enough, Andrew has his GPS in his pocket. What an odd fellow that carries his GPS around in his pocket! We are just nudging up to 6 knots on the reach which is not bad considering the sails are not trimmed right and I can not put the outboard leg up out of the water. (The outboard trim required a minor repair which was sorted out back at the mooring). There is no cunningham in the main and the head sail needs to be hoisted higher. We didn’t hoist it right. I am still working out the halyards, cleats and winches. Oh boy, and don’t the winches need a service!

That was all a bit of fun, but I have to get to the Maritime Authority this arvo and sort out the rego and this boat mooring license. So we head home and pack up.

I’ve got back from a stint overseas. Luckily Vogelsang was still on her mooring although at the waterline she was looking a little green.

Last week I took two Berliners out on her. As we motored down the harbour, Jan and I had an obligatory nip of OP rum. Jan swung from the rigging while Diana took photos with the Harbour Bridge and the Sydney Opera House as a backdrop. Eventually we reached Rose Bay and the sun came out. A mild wind was blowing E-SE so we decided to put up the number one (without the main sail) and took a very leisurely cruise (about 2 knots) back up the harbour.

We started on a broad reach passing under Shark Island. I trimmed the sails and gave the helm to Jan telling him to point towards the bridge before popping below to put on the kettle. After handing out the cuppas I came back on deck, re-trimmed the sails and set Diana (who was now at the helm) on a new course on a tighter reach past Fort Dennison and towards Kirribilli. The wind was starting to swing around to the north east as it tends to do in the arvo.

Diana was good at keeping watch of the traffic. She pointed out the ferry coming across our course and heading to Taronga Zoo. I told her to keep her course. We each had a nice hot cuppa in our hands which is hardly the right moment to put in a gybe. As the ferry got closer Diana seemed a little more concerned so I took the helm, having not yet decided weather we should luff up, bear away or resort to the extreme act of putting down our cuppas and making a gybe. As the ferry got closer I decided we could just bear away and it would go across and in front of us. No dramas. We did get a close look at the ferry.

I adjusted our course again to head back towards Kirribilli. Within a minute a navy police (NP) patrol boat was up beside us. The conversation went something along the lines of:

NP: “That was a bit close mate.”
ME: “Not really. Well it was a bit closer than I would usually like to get but we’ve all got a cuppa in our hands which made it a bit hard to gybe.”
NP: “You don’t think you went a bit too close to that ferry?”.
ME: “Nah, no worries, we didn’t hit it!”.
NP: “Well I think you went a bit close.”

Crikey, we were probably only doing two knots, holding a straight course and we were the only traffic in the area. The ferry master would have had to go out of his or her way to put itself on a course to hit us.
After that friendly chat they powered off. Jan asked me what they were saying and I just told them we were having a chat.

Soon we were in front of the Kirribilli Flying Squadron where we luffed up and dropped the sail and tidied up. I had not had a chance to scrub down the decks before I picked up Jan and Diana and so we all had quite a bit of oxidized gelcoat on our backsides. Diana even decorated her face with a few stripes. Someone from a nearby marina was motoring around in his tender and came up to us and offered that we tie up to one of the vacant moorings while I packed up the sails. But there was no need for us to do so. So I dropped off two white bummed German backpackers at Kirribilli wharf and motored back up harbour.

Saturday 6th August, 2005

Andrew and I went up to Whitworths (Crows Nest) to do a bit of shopping in the morning. Got down to the boat around 12:30pm. I’ve brought a stash of jelly babies and rice crackers to put onto the boat.

Attached the sheet bags and winch handle holder. I managed to snap one drill bit and it is now permanently lodged in the bulkhead. I didn’t expect much from drill bits bought in a $2 shop. Anyway, I’ve managed to conceal where it sticks through into the cabin with a few strips of gaffer tape.

At 2pm I head over to Greenwich wharf to pick up Andrew. (While I was mucking about on the boat Andrew took his daughter Lara for a bike ride). Andrew and I are going to go through the sail wardrobe, check out the sails (most of them I have not looked at yet). While I am rummaging around below Andrew decides to motor us back to the mooring. There is not much wind so there will be no harm in raising the sails while on the mooring.

We pulled out one of the main sails. Battens – where are the battens? I find some below. We slide the foot into the boom and hoist the sail up the mast. The sail looks OK. We pull out the other main sail. It is not in very good nick. It looks like it might be the boat’s original sail. We might put that one back in the bag and leave it below for emergency use. Out with the number 3. Andrew does some work on cleaning up the hanks while I pull out the light genoa. The hanks on the light genoa need some work too.

At this stage we can see there is a bit of breeze up now. We might be able to get a short twilight sail in. But then we decide that is too late and we won’t get much of a sail in during the brief winter twilight. Time instead to crack open the bottle of scotch I’ve stashed below. We pack up the sails and decide to head over to Andrew’s S80 to check up on her. A quick motor around Woodford Bay checking out moored yachts. There is Alex Rossi’s house (the house she grew up in). Alex was a Loreto Kirribilli girl who I knew in my school days. I went to a couple of great parties at that house.

Returning to the mooring we get to shore before dark.