Sheila’s Sea-going-Craft
The Story Behind Seacraft
It’s not widely known That Sheila Patrick was a founder of Seacraft Aquatic Magazine with Norman Hudson, the first publisher and editor.
As their banner said, Seacraft is covering the Australasian Waterfront, encouraging and recording the progress of yachting – both Power and Sail. Marine artist Jack Earl did many early sketches for Seacraft stories and Jules Feldman was assistant editor. Lou d’Alpuget gave Jules his first job in journalism at the Daily Telegraph reporting on the popular gambling sport of 18 foot racing on Sydney Harbour. We’ve published Jules Feldman’s story in Schooner Henrietta. This was an important gang of Sydneysiders who sailed and promoted sailing.
1930’s Yachting News
SWS readers pointed us to terrific material on Sheila Patrick worth reporting. We don’t apologise for the transcriptions – taking our lead from early Seacraft magazines that happily published long form stories.
Sport stories and yacht club race results were normally reported in the metro newspapers. By the 1970’s sporting club results were dropped from most newspapers. Bob Chapman kindly sent us TROVE links to The Daily Telegraph and The Sydney Morning Herald from the 1930’s. Andy Bullock, as a teenager, recalled an article Sheila Patrick wrote in Seacraft ...’recounting a cruise in her Tumlaren along the NSW coast to Port Stephens, which I thought was a brave undertaking in a small, narrow boat without a self-draining cockpit. That story is Two’s Company, published in August 1956.
Early 12 foot skiff from Lane Cove similar to Sheila Patrick’s VELELE sailed at North Shore Dinghy Club in the 1930’s. Image ANMM
The Telegraph in 1937 reported on Girl Skipper. 20 years old, Miss Sheila Patrick steered her crew to victory in the North Shore Dinghy Clubs 12ft skiffs ... the only woman skipper among 17 competitors. The SMH in 1938 bannered
‘Sydney Girl Champion Can Knot and Splice.
Miss Sheila Patrick of Cremorne is the owner of a 12-foot dinghy VELELE in which she was runner up in last years North Shore dinghy championship and won the club point score over the whole season. ‘I began sailing when 6 years old, said Miss Patrick. With a girl companion, we would sail into Mosman Bay and stop ferry boats for fun. When I was 18, I saved up six pounds to buy my first boat. Miss Patrick captains her own boat, but engages two boys to act as crew. Her boat carries 140 square feet of sail and on one occasion, while racing turned over under the stern of HMAS SYDNEY. Bluejackets righted it for her, and she continued to race.
‘Miss Patrick carries out all her own repairs. She can knot and splice rope and wire. She has her own sextant and Mr Dick Nossiter is teaching her navigation. See SWS Saving Sirius. The yachtswoman has her own boatshed in Shell Cove (Kurraba Point). Before the Cremorne Point Lighthouse was fitted with electric light, Miss Patrick had the job of lighting the gas lamp at 5pm and putting it out at 5am in the morning.
Two’s Company
After building her own Tumlare in 1949, Sheila published a review of the design and performance in Seacraft in 1952 called Knud Reimers’ Tumlare was ahead of her Time. Demonstrating her preference for things to be ‘ship-shape and Bristol fashion’, Sheila gives clear instructions for correct terminology.
‘Tumlare means porpoise in Danish; Tumlaren is the plural of the noun and should only be used as such.
Tumlaren are now raced with three crew. In the early days four was common. Sheila sailed an ocean passage in her Tum with just two crew. She recounted the journey in Two’s Company. Here’s our edited version that shows Sheila’s and Pat’s skill, determination and athleticism. Unlike these women, you can mark their passage and anchorages from Sydney Harbour along the NSW coast to Port Stephens on your Navionics.
The Plan
‘I had decided to sail my Tumlare SVALAN up the coast for a short cruise to Broken Bay and perhaps further north if the weather permitted and Pat seemed a likely mate. She had sailed with me and didn’t mind getting wet and being uncomfortable living in a cupboard. We listed stores, checked the rig and cadged a few charts of the NSW coast from Tony, my husband. We didn’t intend to sail very far offshore so didn’t take all the navigation paraphernalia such as a sextant, chronometer and tables but only carried a small prismatic compass for cross and transit bearings. We knew the coast well enough to find our way. The usual gear such as hurricane lamps, barometer and distress rockets were stowed on board together with galley box, primus, tool chest, books to read, a spare anchor and spare sails. We had a small dilly bag each and eight gallons of water in stone demijohns.
Shell Cove to Quarantine
‘With the dinghy stowed inconveniently over the coach-house, we left our anchorage in Shell Cove on a hot and windless summer morning. We drifted all morning until around Bradleys Head a light air began to make from the SE. The glass was dropping so we decided to anchor at Store Beach Quarantine to see what the weather might do. The wind soon came out of the NE at 15 knots, the sky clouded over and it looked as if something was brewing. By 4pm it was blowing 30 knots and likely to go NW. We decided to spend the night. Although Quarantine is a snug anchorage its open to the W, so I prepared to clear out if the weather moved round. We kept the mainsail on the boom and the jib hanked and furled.
‘We hardly turned in our horsehair bunks after a wonderful dinner of fish caught by nearby lads spearfishing off the rocks. The wind increased and became a full westerly stinker. The Tum was leaping like a fretful mare. We could have stayed on two anchors but the thought of my darling going up on the beach was too much. I dragged Pat from her sleeping bag to haul in the anchor – no mean feat in the fury of a westerly at night. The jib set and we shot away like a streak of lightning with Pat clinging to the muddy anchor on the slippery foredeck. Off we screamed into the night making for Forty Baskets Beach and the shelter of North Harbour. In an hour we were snug under the hill of North Manly.
North Head to Terrigal
‘It blew a screamer all night from the west. After a bit of talking, I persuaded Pat that sailing up the coast in a stiff westerly to Broken Bay, was an ideal way to spend the day. The Tum is a splendid sea boat for her size. We skimmed around north head and headed out in a NE direction, reaching up the coast. The sea was so calm we broke out the Primus and Pat brewed a delicious morning coffee.
‘After lunch the breeze was settled but fresh. I decided to break out the genoa as the little boat sails well with plenty of headsail. My racing instinct made me set the genoa before dousing the jib on the twin forestays. The genoa was pulling like a horse and both sets of hanks fouled. I was yelling at Pat to luff her but the sails refused to come down. After failing to knock them out with the spinnaker pole, there was nothing for it but to climb the mast. I climbed with some determination which is quite difficult with the main hoisted. I reached out and undid the offending clips and slid rather too quickly to the deck. We were soon scudding away to the north at 7 knots.
‘The sailing was too good to go into Broken Bay, so altered course to clear Cape Three Point and sailed through the night. We lit our navigation lights and made a meal of biscuits and tinned herrings washed down with strong black coffee, marvelling at the bright stars hanging in the rigging. Perhaps we could make landfall at Terrigal or Newcastle in the morning. Barrenjoey light appeared astern just as the wind disappeared. There was barely sufficient wind to keep us moving in a busy shipping lane with our pinpricks of green and red. At dawn we were bowling along to a little breeze about 5 miles SE of the Skillion at Terrigal Beach. I suggested we sail into the Haven, a sheltered cove for a wash and perhaps some bacon and eggs. The crew agreed. The lone fisherman watched as we dropped sails and struggled to launch the dinghy off the coach-house. We were the first customers for breakfast and it tasted wonderful. After a swim and sleep on the beach we hoisted and headed northward.
The Haven to Shoal Bay
‘We set the genoa as a spinnaker on a southerly for Shoal Bay at the inside arm of Port Stephens. The wind went into the SE, steady and sweet. We bowled along planning what to do if we didn’t reach Port Stephens that night. The breeze had eased and the current was taking us south as Newcastle refused to come abeam. At dusk we watched the wink of Norah Head light stuck on the same bearing as our compass. We drifted, feeling horribly seasick until 2am when a westerly came through. We set the genoa and the little boat came to life. We picked up the headland and lighthouse at Port Stephens around 11am and rounded into Shoal Bay. We knew there would be a hot shower and cold beer at the Country Club.
Port Stephens to Broken Bay
‘We were a long way from our home port. Early next morning, after a swim and breakfast, we stowed and slipped to sea on the last of a sharp westerly. We were soon becalmed under the headland praying for a nor’easter. Instead it came lightly from the south with some ominous gathering grey clouds. We stood out to sea as it freshened with the occasional rain squalls. We changed course towards the coast when the SE shift came. The Tum was sailing well under these conditions so we enjoyed lunch with a bottle of claret. Soon it started to rain very hard, the wind dropped and we had no idea where we were as we couldn’t see the coast. I reassured Pat we were 10 miles NE of Cape Three Point by dead reckoning. She was dubious saying she didn’t like the sound of ‘dead reckoning’.
‘We again stood out to sea sailing quietly into the great expanse of the Pacific. The barometer was the only thing that troubled me. It had been dropping since dusk and the little sou-easter was gathering strength and whipping up a bit of sea. By midnight we were bowling along with the wind shifting east, that usually means a blow. Best to head for the open sea when I wasn’t too sure of our position with such bad visibility. The swell was increasing rapidly and it was blowing a half gale. The only things visible in the murk were the white horses speeding by.
‘A big sloppy sea with a breaking crest caught us as we took a severe knock down, filling the cockpit. I clung to the tiller and kept her sailing. It was now I would have given a lot for a self-draining cockpit. Boats without them shouldn’t be at sea on dirty nights like this. Pat worked our rotary pump like a machine to clear the bilge while I stayed on tiller. It’s difficult to tell at night if the wind is increasing or abating or was the skipper just more apprehensive. We decided to knock the mainsail off her and stooge along comfortably under headsail. Pat manfully gathered the main on the slippery deck of the tiny Tum. The hours dragged as we moved slowly but no more seas came aboard.
‘At 8am the murk cleared and we could make out the low line of coast. Hoisting the main we made inshore to discover we were a little north of Terrigal. All day we sailed happily along the coast and just before nightfall entered the estuary of the Hawkesbury River, the entrance of Broken Bay. We sneaked across Pittwater to a snug anchorage at The Basin
Broken Bay and Home
‘By lunchtime the next day, we had cleared Barrenjoey on a long SE tack. At 5pm it came in from the NE. Overjoyed we set the spinnaker and by 7.30 Blue Fish was abeam. The miserable wind died leaving us to drift on light catspaws until we rounded Bradley’s Head in sight of home. As it was nearly 11pm, the skipper took to the dinghy and we towed our dear little boat right home to Shell Cove, her own anchorage.
Credits
Sheila Patrick Two’s Company Seacraft August 1956.
John Fairfax of the Australian Classic Dinghy Network offered access to his extensive Seacraft collection.