With accelerating speed we were driven towards the point, on the other side of which the swell rose to gigantic breakers, which, hurling themselves against the rugged obstacles with thundering fury sent rumbling waterfalls of foam over the rocky ledges. Sunken rocks off the point showed their frothy fangs, thirty, twenty yards away. The tumult was deafening. Oh, how I hated then, those rocks, these breakers, those snarling fangs, threatening, sneering, evil, inevitable….

Turning, I saw little patches of ripples, darkening the water, spread slowly across the sea until the calm shiny areas were reduced to irregular strips on the new pattern of ruffled surface; then a faint breeze whispered in my ear and a breath of cool air caressed my naked back.
“Take in the awning,” I shouted joyously down to Bob; and swinging on to the main halyard, slid to the deck where the breeze stirring aloft was not yet felt. Life aboard exhilarated. Gerry was doing acrobatics descending the main rigging. Bob, with his credulous blue eyes wide open, and grinning from ear to ear for the first time in several days, worked furiously to clear the decks. Mattresses and pillows were tossed down the companionway.

While other kids were playing sport, Ms Lambert and her brother spent weekends by their father's side as he built his masterpiece over the next decade. She was a teenager when the boat was finally launched at Mackay Harbour in 1984.

After patching up the old boat, he'd drifted from Spain to the Canary Islands, thinking the climate there might be more congenial for working outdoors in winter.  In the Canary Islands, he realised it was easier to sail on to the West Indies than beat back against the prevailing winds to Europe. ‘After that,’ he said, ‘it just made sense to keep going.’

Once, 42 days out of Sydney, while beating painfully to windward off the west coast of New Zealand’s North Island, en route to Nelson, he somewhat outrageously wrote that he was starting to like ocean sailing.  He’d sailed more than 70,000 miles at that point.

The finished yacht was exquisitely built, with fine dovetail joints and a beautiful interior, with the varnished red-cedar planks offset by white-painted frames and stringers, and lofty, varnished spruce masts. Less than 20 months after John laid the keel, he hoisted sail and set a course south, bound for Hawaii.

In an age where technology and €20m can send a solo sailor around the world in 40 days, a fleet of courageous mini sailors is about to show it can be done for less that €50,000 over many days! Sixteen men and two women from 11 countries will navigate 28,000 miles solo around the world in identical, cramped, plywood mini yachts, pushing the limits of what many believe to be possible.

If you don’t know something of Bill Nance, you should. Between 1962 and 1965 aged 25, Bill Nance completed a southern circumnavigation via Cape Horn in his Laurent Giles CARDINAL VERTUE. He was the first Australian to complete this journey singlehanded. In recognition, the Americans awarded him the Joshua Slocum medal, the International Award for Sailing Achievements. Australia hardly noticed, except for the die-hard yachting fraternity and the odd newspaper article.

Every generation produces exceptional sailors and adventurers, though with the advent of satellite communications and navigation systems, it is arguable that we will never again know people with the independence and resilience of the Smeetons.

He is the true sea-wanderer, in these hurried days, when the professional seaman sees little but ports…. and the wandering globetrotter has his soft way sped until the whole earth is fast developing-for him-into nothing but a nerve-racking kaleidoscope of which, his voyage made, he remembers little. No, give me a wandering such as Dwight Long’s and a little ship, stout as the IDLE HOUR

“This was our first Christmas at sea.  My wife surprised me with a large tin of tobacco, and I surprised her with a package of her favourite cigarettes. She had certainly bought both, and I had been aware of their existence all along, but that did not lessen our surprise or render the presents less appreciated.”

The Oosterschelde was built in 1917 and made a living tramping around the world with general cargo: coal from Cardiff, oranges from Morocco and Baltic timber. She’s survived hitting a second world war mine, abandonment and many storms.

“As the latest custodian of Māori Lass, I’ve often tried to visualise the people who’ve sailed her before us, the far-flung corners of the world she’s been to and the rough weather she’s survived. Rounding the buoys in the D’Entrecasteaux Channel during twilight racing with the Kettering Yacht Club just doesn’t seem a suitable enough challenge for her.”

It's not often that you come across a seventy year old, 30ft yacht that’s been around the world. The story of MAORI LASS has some great history but it also has some large blank chapters waiting to be filled by a yachting sleuth with the time and inclination to fill in the gaps.