Time To Go!
Val Nicholls shares some experiences and reflections on the learning inherent to her recent ten month, 3,500nm and predominately solo sailing adventure from Tasmania to Queensland (return) with her strip planked 32ft Bristol Channel Cutter, Aziza,
It would probably be true to say that it was something of a desperate time when I took AZIZA on as sole owner. I had known her since inception. My then husband and I had commissioned her build under the skill and guidance of a local boat builder along with the support of a host of skilled Tradies, family, and friends. We launched in 2008, completed the build and fittings in 2009 and went on to enjoy several years of sailing her in local Tasmanian waters.
In 2015, a break-up of 40 years of marriage upended life as I knew it and cast me adrift on a sea of grief and confusion. Under pressure to sell or buy out, I decided to take on AZIZA as sole owner and soon realised that to have the freedom to sail at whim I would need to learn how to sail single-handed. Whilst I was reasonably skilled crew, equipped with sail training and ocean racing experience, it was clear that the learning curve between competent crew and Skipper/Custodian was long and steep. Feeling undeserving of the title Skipper I dropped the initial ‘S’ and tentatively called myself Kipper! Yes, strangely, I felt much more comfortable calling myself a Kipper aka a rather smelly smoked fish and/or the slang for Cheat! Over the following 4 years, I embarked on the business of attaining the knowledge and experience required to captain my ship. In time, with Aziza as my focus and anchor, I rebuilt my mental health and well-being, grew friendships old and new and began to envision fresh horizons and possibilities. In short, I learned how to live and sail solo with a degree of confidence and pleasure.
Musing on mortality ahead of my 71st birthday in 2022, it came to mind that AZIZA and I deserved a long journey together, a nautical adventure unfettered by domestic responsibilities, a time to explore and exploit all that we had learned together in the recent past. Given the birthday candles, sooner was clearly better than later.
As things sometimes do, out of the blue things began to line up. Firstly, I came across a magazine article describing a passage from Melbourne to Sydney made up entirely of day sails and was captured by the notion that AZIZA and I might be up for day-hopping somewhere up the east coast. Day hops? Could we do that? Challenging this optimism by weighing up the balance of real risks versus perceived risks, my skills versus deficits, AZIZA’s strengths and challenges, I arrived at a confident conclusion, that given a year of purposeful preparation AZIZA and I would make a sufficiently safe and competent pairing. Good fortune followed: custodians of SV TERE, Chris and Jo, suggested we sail in company. Sailing buddy Tracey put up her hand to crew from Kettering to Lakes Entrance. Done deal! March 2023 AZIZA, Tracey and I would head off from Kettering Tasmania in company with SV TERE, to Lakes Entrance, Victoria. What might happen next was left open.
I went into overdrive: researching checklists, identifying, and practising Standard Operating Procedures (SOPs), purchasing, fixing and fitting all things sailing, on board-living, safety, rescue, boat repair and maintenance. Out went duplicate and triplicate random sized spanners and in came well considered kits, sets, tools, manuals, and spares.
Whist it was true that I talked about the project as both a great adventure and as an exciting way to fast track my sailing skills, I knew from the start that at heart this effort was motivated by a yearning for self-discovery and renewal. I was now physically and mentally healthy and wanting to get to know myself in this single 72 yr old female life; to create space for life to unfold and take me with it. Importantly, I cared less about where I went, and more than that I went. I wanted to experience the simplicity, challenge, and beauty of life immersed in the natural world. Goals and destinations were secondary.
The diagrams above describe the 10month odyssey as it eventually evolved. I sailed with crew from Kettering to Bermagui, and on return from Southport to Pittwater and again Lakes Entrance to Fosters Inlet on NE corner of Tasmania. From Wineglass Bay (Tasmania) onwards, every anchorage, marina and bar (red ink) was a first-time experience. The learning curve was steep, exhilarating, satisfying and often, instructive! I doubt anyone could have been more amazed than I was to watch myself hop by hop, progressing up the eastern seaboard, pulling into the iconic Sydney harbour, Lady Musgrave and Great Keppel Islands, Great Sandy Straits; and the shallows of the Narrows tucked in behind Curtis Island, Qld.
I admit, it is misleading of me to talk about progressing “hop by hop.” The timings between destinations ranged from 4 to 26 hrs and many were in fact ‘Night hops.” None the less with planning and preparation the stages were manageable and offered a safe solution to the conundrum of solo sailing and the need for sleep. More experienced solo sailing friends preferred to move off coast somewhat and take hours of sleep. No thanks!
I certainly never anticipated sailing 3000nm single handed. I had locked in crew from Kettering, Tasmania to Lakes Entrance and was reassured by many that I would pick up crew easily thereafter.
Unsurprisingly things didn’t go according to plan. Within days of departure SV Tere’s plans were stymied by engine problems. AZIZA, Tracey, and I continued alone across Bass Strait to Lakes Entrance. With Tracey gone I turned my attention to the finding of new crew. After a frustrating couple of weeks, a friend generously made time to crew for the haul to Bermagui. It became clear for a host of reasons, that the finding and timely organisation of crew was going to be frustrating and tricky business. I was offered a lot of unsolicited advice. Little rang relevant to my own situation. Ultimately, I decided to progress single-handed unless I knew the crew personally. This decision, I feel was sound.
There are so many stories to tell of adventure and despair, stunning scenery, friendships, chance encounters, near misses, breakages, creative repairs, whales, coral seas, sunsets, and surprises. The list goes on. But here I’ll alter course to tack towards a Cruising Legend for some structure to this brief story telling.
Returned home and flicking through a PYO magazine I came across an article by Jimmy Cornell in which, based on his 35 years’ experience of monitoring worldwide passage making, he identifies 5 key factors impacting on the successful completion of ocean voyages. No surprise perhaps that he lists: The Boat; The Crew; Finances and Self Sufficiency. It was the 5th factor, Right Attitude, that grabbed my attention and in which I recognised the nature and significance of my learning from 10months on the water. Jimmy subdivides the category into Respect for the Sea, Courage, Persistence, Determination and Self-confidence. He concludes that of all factors Right Attitude is paramount: “Ultimate success does not depend on the boat but on you and your attitude.”
Reflecting on my journals, and the memories that never made it to the page I noticed that of all the stories and experiences the ones that I have learned from are predominately concerned with themes of Right Attitude. I’ve chosen a few of those recollections to hook onto Jimmy’s framework and language as a way of organising and expressing my own experience, learning and growth as a Skipper and a human.
Respect for the Sea
As I left Hobart a good friend bade me Fair Winds, and the reminder “It’s all about the weather Val, it’s all about the weather.” In my naivety I thought I understood his advice. On reflection I would say that it took me a couple of months to really begin to understand that it truly was all about the weather! That it was my job to learn how to work with nature rather than against her.
It took me quite a while to get my ego out of the equation to observe, and understand her language, moods, and signs. In the early days and weeks, my ego railed against unwelcomed forecasts, I compared sail plans, and competed with boats of all description. Thankfully over time a gear shifted, I slowed down, observed more, fiddled less.
On our return journey AZIZA and I were positioned at Inskip Point poised for an early get away across the Mad Mile and the Wide Bay Bar. 13 or so other boats prepared likewise. The passage plan was ready, the mild winds forecast. Things were looking good but I was uneasy and slept restlessly. A nagging uncertainty about 2m swell and 4 m significant wave forecast over the bar. At 5.30am friends called over for us to follow. “I’ll check with Coast Guards at 6am, I may or may not follow”. Uncharacteristically, the Coast Guards clearly advised that as a solo sailor of limited experience of Wide Bay Bar, a maximum of 1.5 swell was appropriate. I knew this but had been unable to understand and respect the might of the ocean and fearful to listen and trust myself. I watched as all 13 boats emptied out the anchorage. AZIZA and I were learning, I made a commitment there that AZIZA and I would learn to be in harmony with nature and each other. My sailing improved.
Courage
Fear is the complement of courage. The fearless cannot be courageous. Fear is an inevitable corollary of adventure. I was curious as to how it might manifest and how I might summon courage to manage it. I was surprised. It was not what I expected and certainly varied in degree. I noticed on occasion when the proverbial could be said to have hit the fan, my brain went into uber pragmatic mode. No cortical energy wasted on feeling afraid. I heard myself shout me instruction, encouragement, and support: “Grab this, do that, well done Val, try this, go on, be brave, good on ya! Whoops, not that one!” Mostly I felt a fear and anxiety in the security of a Marina after a couple of days of lattes, real toilets, showers and long walks. On land I begin to fear the very same bar I just successfully navigated, at times start to doubt my capacity, sanity and choices. I learned to counter this kind of fear/anxiety with diligent passage planning, engine checks, weather checks, running through SOP’s, a little quiet time, a reminder that moving on is a choice not a necessity. It gave me courage to head out again. Mostly, once the sails were set and a course steered the fear disappeared.
As a solo sailor I heard “Oh you’re so brave”. I would deny it, be embarrassed, and couldn’t understand how or why. However, on return to Hobart and looking through some photos I came across the video clip above. I had completely forgotten about it. I’ve watched it many times now and it makes me weep with respect for myself every time. As planned, the bar didn’t look much that day, but the video reminded me that I was often quietly brave or courageous. That at the very least every bar required a degree of courage. It reminded me that it took courage of another sort to mingle with new people, ask for help, or attempt a repair. Someone wrote that there was this kind of nakedness to sailing solo, no place to hide from yourself. Yes, I see that now, it was courageous to Skipper AZIZA alone. I understand now than I can be courageous, I feel this is a significant learning.
Persistence
The quality of Persistence infers a capacity to keep going yet to illustrate how I learnt to sustain my effort I must resort to a story about stopping.
Travelling north and pulling into Mooloolaba Marina I fell in a heap, it was a meltdown, a complete loss of confidence in what I had done and planned to do coupled with copious crying. Not good.
Four Duck theory helped me out. The theory has you imagine a line-up of 4 fairground Duckies. Every Duck is a risk factor. Four Ducks in a line being a disaster i.e. One Duck: manageable risk; Two Ducks: Alert but not alarmed; Three Ducks: Alert and alarmed, strategic action required to prevent a four-duck line up; Four Duck line up = Disaster.
Fortunately, I’m well versed in Four Duck theory, so I trialled it on myself and recognised what was happening.
Duck One: My anchor and mast head navigation lights were barely visible. I didn’t have back up for my tiller pilot. I was concerned that I was falling behind on Aziza care.
Duck Two: I had been unwell, with no sign of improvement, for about a week. Covid like symptoms but negative on tests. Fatigue, coughing and headache. I was concerned about my physical health.
Duck Three: The 40 nm passage to Mooloolaba had quietly unnerved me. Contrary to 10-15kt SE forecast a following wind of 20-25 kts blew for most of the 7-hour passage. Aziza was non-plussed, but each time I looked behind I saw and felt a messy grey sea asserting its independent and authoritative energy. I felt small, isolated, and potentially foolish. This scenario wouldn’t bother many a Skipper but for me it raised awareness that at a deeper level I was almost certainly and constantly exerting energy and restraint to manage this edge of my single handing experience. I was concerned that the positivity and commitment I required as part of safe single handing was sapping.
Duck Four had yet to waddle in, but I was pretty sure it had Wide Bay Bar on its forehead. I felt no energy or confidence to tackle the practical planning and positive mindset a safe, successful, and enjoyable bar crossing and arrival entailed.
Having identified the deteriorating situation, I took assertive action to metaphorically Hove-to i.e. Take the Wind out of my Sails, stay longer, rest, recoup, organise tradies to fix the lights, clean AZIZA’s bottom, check the anode, do a few maintenance tasks, get a backup to the tiller pilot, go swimming, walk, eat prawns and chat to people. A good plan. The ducks left.
A week later recouped, restored and ready to un-hove I set off with vigour for Double Island Point and Wide Bay Bar.
I had other melt down on the return journey, at anchor in Southport. I recognised fatigue and fear of soloing the upcoming bars of NSW again. I found little pleasure in my circumstances. Again, recognising what was happening I reached out to friends. Tracey extended her hand and altered plans so that we could sail together and make short shift of that coastline.
I learnt to respect self-care, pacing and self-monitoring as fundamental to persistence. Without persistence there would have been no trip.
Self-Confidence
I find it hard to separate Self-Confidence. It has grown out of every new encounter, challenge met, and fear faced. However, in chats with solo sailors I met along the way, regardless of experience a particular mindset is demanded of all and it was the subject of much conversation. That is, the need to Back Yourself. The need to cultivate confidence in your abilities, and belief in your potential to achieve goals.
Tired and somewhat new to bar crossings I approached Yamba bar after 26hrs of solo. The swell was developed but orderly. As I approached the bar it seemed that swell was crashing within the breakwalls. I was alarmed. This was beyond my confidence and competence. What could I do? I manoeuvred around and behind the surf break and phoned the coast Guard. Were there alternatives? After running through a few options, none were alluring. The Coast Guard assured me that the wave cam indicated there were no waves breaking within the entry. I decided to try again, he would phone, (I couldn’t reach the radio whilst hand steering) if it looked like I was not on a good line. Round I went again. Eye-balls glued to the plotter and what I understood to be the line in. Needless to say it was easy! Straight forward, no problem at all. It probably wouldn’t phase you! The point I make is Self- Confidence is largely gained experientially. That’s where determination and courage come in!
Passage planning, boat maintenance, fixing breakages and more, continuously contributed to a general sense that I would manage, that I could come up with creative solutions or adequate make-do’s. Self-confidence developed as much as a sense, a perspective, a demeanour as much as any set of particular skills.
Determination: Get yer Lippy on!
Let me bring this piece to closure with perhaps my favourite story. Favourite because it was early in the adventure, favourite because its memory is a felt thing, the butterflies in my stomach, the resolve in my chest and the voice in my head. “Ok Val you are gunna do this” “No more Kipper, you’re Skipper now. This is it. We’re gunna do it”.
Killiecrankie, Northern tip of Flinders Island Tasmania. March 24th1.59pm.
We have an ETD of 1400. It is 1359. Tracey and I are anchored, poised to leave. We have sailed AZIZA from Kettering some 200nm and recently rattled with the bumpy messy waters of Banks Strait. Adverse weather is on its way and we have ditched plans to visit Deal island. This is our first ever 23hr passage together, our first Bass Strait crossing, AZIZA’s first Bass Strait crossing. Lakes Entrance is our first bar crossing. It is a significant bar. Passage planning and prep is done. We are ready, it is time. Tracey looks at me, I look at Tracey: “It’s time, time to get the lippy on”. Like oceanic warriors prepping for battle, we paint our lips red, toss our hair, heave up the anchor and, with so many firsts, we head out across Bass Strait for Lakes Entrance Victoria. It was a moment of mutual trust and resolve neither of us will ever forget. If the definition of Adventure is a step into the unknown, this moment was most definitely bursting with adventure.
Tracey was relatively new to AZIZA, I was relatively new to the concept of Skipper, we were both relatively novice to the level of stewardship and collaboration this passage from Kettering to Lakes Entrance entailed. Whilst we hadn’t sailed together much more than a few days prior to departure months earlier intuition whispered that we would make a strong team. Once onboard flexing, adapting, telling stories, and working together, meant that by Killiecrankie, we were a solid partnership embarked on an enterprise that challenged and stretched any self-limiting concepts of self as sailor.
We alternated watches, monitored speed, weather, distance, charts, Oil rigs and all things associated with our passage plan. For safe arrival and crossing of the bar we read the wave buoy data a hundred times. Throughout the night and into the morning we were deeply touched by the stream of texts cheering us on. It dawned on us that the same spirit of adventure that lit our way was sharing its light with so many more.
In short, we arrived well timed for the bar crossing, and had ourselves moored up within a short time. Yes, after a shower in the caravan park we ended up in our more favourite type of a bar, smug, stunned, and relieved. Within hours, as others had predicted, we were changed. We could never be the same again. “Well, it really wasn’t so bad, was it?” Tracey looks at me, I look at Tracey. We put more lippy on, new horizons already in view.
Only for the desperate?
A good friend of mine, a solo-sailing friend, insists that single-handed sailing is only for the desperate; the desperate being those who have no friends or at least no friends that will sail with them! “There’s no kudos to be had for sailing solo, only the desperate solo sail!” I disagree. It is certainly has its desperate side! It is a demanding and relentless pursuit. But then again “Desperation is a great teacher” as they say! For that I am profoundly grateful. I have grown as a person and as sailor; from kipper to skipper to Skipper/Custodian. What an adventure!