Sydney to Hobart Yacht Race

I grew up in Australia and began sailing around Sydney Harbour in 1957—when I was twelve years old. As anyone with a rudimentary grasp of arithmetic will be able to deduce, I am now well within the old fart latitudes.

In 1965, about a year before I sailed for Canada (aboard the Canberra, a P&O liner), I crewed aboard Seawind, a 43 foot wooden sloop, in the Sydney to Hobart yacht race. This is an annual event beginning on Boxing Day and taking (in those days) an average of a week to complete. Seawind was owned and skippered by Norm Brooker, an old rogue and excellent sailor*.

There’s always a huge spectator fleet to watch the start of the race and a bunch of police launches to keep these vessels in check.
 

For me, the highlight of this particular start was when one of the boys in blue on a nearby police launch went charging forward with a boathook to fend off an errant spectator boat. As he thrust his weapon at the bow of the offending vessel with all his weight behind it, said vessel suddenly reversed, leaving a void.

With nothing to impede his forward motion, our man of the moment charged off the bow of his launch like an unseated knight at a joust.

Needless to say he received a huge round of applause as he was hauled back aboard the launch.
 

*I recall only one exception to this statement. During a normal Saturday race, Norm would get through about half a bottle of Scotch and be little the worse the wear for it. On one occasion however, he had an unusual thirst on and managed to consume the entire bottle. The achievement put him in a decidedly aggressive state.

Upon spying his hated arch-rival Horrie Godden--slightly behind and to leeward--Norm eased sheets and headed for his enemy at ramming speed. There was a stiff breeze blowing so we were sailing along at a good clip.

We, the crew, were forced to mutiny in order to prevent disaster. We prised Norm’s claw-like fingers from the wheel and dragged him below. We then resumed the race while Norm snored off the Scotch.

Seawind on a Sunday afternoon. From right to left—Paddy (my girlfriend at the time), Norm, Dave and Peter (not me). Dave Linton was a master boat carpenter and did most of the building of Sea Wind. He claimed some kind of kinship with Hercules Linton, designer of the Cutty Sark.