In 1960 we're starting to get into the fast boats. We built the first Customs Boat, a 40-footer called BINDERY which had a six cylinder 671 Detroit Diesel and it would do 20 knots. The Department of Customs took Dad's plans, copied them put them out to Tender. So there were five other boats built, and they all did about 14 or 15 knots because they thought the buttock lines shouldn't be bent. Dad always reversed his buttock lines so th boat sat on a big wedge at the back and customs could never work out why the others never went as fast.

Bob was the quintessential quiet achiever – no accolades or awards wanted or needed – and he was loved and revered by all who knew him.

The boat was holed and sunk, and Bill and Simonne took to a four-person coastal liferaft. This in the days when EPIRBs broadcast distress signals only on 121.5 MHz to passing aircraft. The couple christened their raft LAST CHANCE and ultimately survived on a diet of raw fish that Bill caught.

In the months just before and after 1969, as clean-cut crooners and girl bands and Motown acts gave way to long-haired singer-songwriters who filled football stadiums, the Great American Songbook tilted on a fulcrum. At the center was a mustachioed scamp with sparkling blue eyes – and a wooden ship designed 40 years earlier by the great John G. Alden.

But no crashes happen; really, nothing exciting at all. Despite my proximity to the action or the unflagging enthusiasm of commentators, the whole thing has the emotional stakes of watching toys floating in bathwater. The twisty path, whose contours aren’t outlined to live spectators, diminish the innate satisfaction of watching fast things go zoom; it isn’t quite evident who is in the lead.

Riou set all hands to man the ship’s four pumps and ordered much of its cargo to be thrown overboard. By 8.15pm, there were two feet of water in the hold. By 10pm, with two pumps broken, it was at five feet. At times over the next thirty-six hours it seemed as though the crew was winning. On Christmas morning, they ‘fothered’ the hull, wrapping two oakum-lined sails underneath the ship to stem the flow of water. But the water carried on rising. By Boxing Day, it was at seven feet.

Williamstown, a seaside village in Melbourne’s west with a historic waterfront and city views, is a highly desirable residential location. AV Jennings has built apartments across the road from the shipyard, but the site is likely to remain industrial for the foreseeable future.

The line-up was exceptional with the presence of legendary sailors. The races were intense, with difficult weather conditions for everyone. We are very lucky to have an extraordinary team of volunteers at the club, nothing would be possible without them!

This is a tricky time to be talking about sailing clubs with Royal Warrants. Last summer Captain Cook was amputated below the knee in the Catani Gardens right beside RMYS. In April near the St Kilda Pilot Beacon, four Canary Island palms were deliberately set alight. These trees, from the 1930’s, are a signature of the seaside promenade. Perhaps it’s a comment on European landscaping or random arson. Then King George V was decapitated on his recent birthday in Kings Domain. Regardless of this febrile climate, VCAT got on with its task and handed down a decision ‘of interest’ that clarified often misunderstood heritage guidelines.

I find, in rereading some of the classic sailing books published back then, and which I still love, that I squirm a little. It is indisputable that the Slocum era, was also the colonial era; in fact, in its heyday, ocean cruising throve on the socio-political infrastructure of colonial outposts, as uncomfortable as that is for me to admit.

Al frequently mentioned that the greatest praise a yacht designer could receive was the absence of his designs on the resale market. To him, this indicated how pleased the owners were with his designs.

Sir Ernest Shackleton died suddenly; so suddenly that he said no word at all with regard to the future of the expedition. But I know that had he foreseen his death and been able to communicate to me his wishes, they would have been summed up in the two words, “Carry on!”

At the start line for Saturday's first race there were twenty Gaff or similarly rigged yachts. They ranged from a fifty plus year old 10ft timber gaff rigged skiff replica MERLE, with a crew of three and a healthy spread of sail, to a recently impeccably refurbished Couta Boat CRYSTAL.  

Back in 1952, when Ben started planning this voyage, the Royal Navy hadn’t really got into ‛adventure training’ (I imagine that most of the older officers had experienced more than enough adventure, in the previous decade), so it was a lucky chance for Ben, that the Lords of the Admiralty decided that he should be posted to New Zealand (which also happened to be the country of his birth).

It’s the three dimensions into two, conundrum…inadequately solved by projections. Crossing from Auckland to Melbourne a few years ago we calculated we would have saved 24 miles by following a great circle route rather than a fixed course. That’s four hours over an eight day journey.

The thing about old, iron-fastened, softwood timber boats like this, built in cold climates, is that once you take them into warmer waters it becomes an endless struggle to maintain them.  Patrick found it a losing battle, and the poor ship was starting to deteriorate again rapidly.  But Sandefjord has always been a lucky ship, and once again a saviour appeared.

It’s been a while coming but I’m finally realising Regatta’s are not necessarily about the glamorous and high-end boats they are about the people you meet and race against on the way through.

I think its sometimes ok to just wallow in the sheer majesty of massive, elite, eye-wateringly expensive, restored Classic Yachts.

She was launched in 1958, and so began her working life as a Moreton Bay fishing boat: For 35 years was used in this capacity by Dick and his fishing partners. At the commencement of the winter sea mullet season, they would load her up including a short wheelbase Land Rover on the aft deck, and transport it from Brisbane across to Moreton Island. 

We love hearing from our readers. The depth and breadth of knowledge out there is extraordinary!