Without risk there is no adventure. In the dark places of a passage-makers mind there are scenarios that few like to ponder. Problems that might suddenly make a yacht unseaworthy and a long way from help. On passage from Noumea to New Zealand, we came face to face with one of these problems. It felt like a sea monster had clambered up the transom, slithered into the saloon and said "Right. I'm your worst nightmare, and I'm here to stay" - then started happily punching holes through the hull.
And so it was: 400m from Noumea, beating into 20kts when a loud bang came from the bow. Pandemonium reigned on the foredeck. I had literally no idea what had happened, only that something was very wrong. But then pieces of situational awareness filtered through: the furling drum was leaping around and hammering the foredeck, enraged by a full headsail flogging heavily. Our forestay chainplate had parted. Our mast was in imminent danger of crashing to the deck.
All hands rushed on deck with their life jackets, and we immediately bore off downwind in hope of saving the mast. We discussed priorities: number one was to get all spare halyards to the bow as a jury rigged forestay. And tame that slapping furling drum. Over the next hour, one crew member crocodile-wrestled the furler to fix a stabilising line so another could fix halyards to the bow drum tight. We dragged the headsail to deck. The mast was raked back at an unnatural angle, but gloriously, it was upright.
The immediate problem addressed, we brainstormed mid-term scenarios on a scrap paper to get some clarity of how to get to shelter. While considering whether to head on 400nm to NZ under jury-rig, the only credible option was to motor to shelter at Norfolk Island before attempting repairs. We contacted RCC Australia to let them know the situation and our plans, with 6-hourly check ins. Norfolk was 80nm to the east and Quickstar limped into Sydney Bay early on Saturday morning in bleary-eyed sunshine.
We drank Norfolk’s verdant shore. It was wonderful to see, but I knew there were no all weather anchorages, no harbour and no yacht facilities. I had a rumbling thought of being stranded for weeks before getting seaworthy again all the while keeping an eye for major weather systems coming through.
We notified Australian Border Force on the way of arrival under duress and they were very helpful, and put us in touch with Kevin from KC Engineering. Within 3 hours of dropping anchor, Kevin had organised the broken chain plate to be taken ashore by local boat. And incredibly, within 8h of anchoring, and on a Saturday, Kevin had completed fabrication of the new chainplate in 316 and organised for it to be delivered by local fishing boat at 6am the next morning. On Sunday morning Dean came onboard to help as re-attach the forestay. Within 10 minutes Dean had showed us what we needed to do, from his extensive boatbuilding and yacht experience, and by a contrivance of winches, furrowed brows and gently persuasive language, we reattached the forestay with whoops of joy from everyone aboard. Scotty proclaimed it one of the best days of his life.
We were gobsmacked by the willing help of the Norfolk Islanders, and could not have got this much done berthed in a major Sydney marina on the weekend, let alone at anchor on an isolated island.
Shore landing can be tricky at Norfolk - local boats are craned in and out of the water - but we managed to get ashore in Little Ripper where and customs and biosecurity met us.
Counting our lucky stars for the change in fortune and with beaming smiles, we had the chance to tour the beautiful island for the afternoon and have a solid meal and coffee. Onward. Quickstar departed peacefully into the inky, moonless night, with a swift and calm run to Opua, New Zealand, 4 days later.