The appointment of an Admiral had been left in abeyance since the death of Sir

Alec in 1991, but the end of Mary’s reign in 1994 was a perfect opportunity to

elevate her to that rank. At the ceremony of installation she was presented with

a crystal rose bowl engraved with a depiction of Rose Rambler and the dates of

her office, most appropriately accompanied by cavorting dolphins. In turn Mary

presented the Club with a silver tankard to be awarded for the most ambitious

or arduous qualifying voyage by a new member. It soon became known

affectionately as ‘Mary’s Mug’.

One of her first and pleasant duties in 1994, not exactly as Admiral but with

her Vertue connection through Hum, was to review the fleet of boats of that

design that had gathered in the Solent. Mary took the salute as 12 Vertues sailed

past the Royal Lymington YC some 44 years after Hum had made them so

famous. That connection had surely contributed to their continued popularity,

as five new ones had been completed the previous year and five more were in

build. It was both pleasing and profitable to see a regular advertisement for

them in Flying Fish.

The change of Commodore coincided with the expiration of Howard’s term

as Vice, to be replaced by Peter Aitchison who had been so strong in his support

six years earlier. Anne Hammick had become one of the Rear Commodores the

year before, and she was now joined by Geoff Pack as second junior flag

officer. Thus it was a largely new team who had the daunting task of maintaining

the previous impetus; fortunately the Club had attained such momentum that it

would have been difficult to slow it down.

Subscriptions were raised in 1994 with a remarkably small drop in membership.

It was an early but prudent move, as expenditure was daily creeping up while

the country was experiencing relatively high inflation. This rise in subs kept the

Club firmly on the road to financial stability so that it began to enjoy an upward

spiral – so much more comfortable than the previous downward slope. For the

next four years new members joined at a rate of more than 100 each year and

less than half that number left. By 1995 membership was above 1200, a rise

which has continued steadily so that today it is around 1800. This flush of new,

mid-90s, members provided a most useful windfall of joining fees, and the

periodic Long Term Cruising Symposia had also added a substantial injection of

funds.

It would have been easy at that stage to relax the self-imposed financial

strictures, but the Committee maintained a rigid discipline until it had accumulated

228

reserves equal to one year’s normal income. Non-recurrent income and that

derived from the extraordinary number of joining fees was a bonus. This ambition

was achieved by 1995 largely due to the Membership Secretaries’ tenacious

chasing of backsliders. By then they had achieved a collection rate of 98%, and

the numbers needing to be struck off were steadily decreasing. Nevertheless,

the Treasurer and Membership Secretaries continued to maintain a very strict

control, apprising the Committee of the detailed financial position at every meeting

so that trends were spotted in ample time to apply a correction.

If Mary had largely healed the old wounds, her successor – the current writer

(see photographs page 237) – was determined to bind the Club together. She

had travelled widely to functions abroad, as had Howard Gosling, her Vice

Commodore, so that the administration was no longer remote but now contained

recognisable personalities. However, there was still some lingering suspicion in

certain corners of the world. An early visit to Australia by Jill and myself found

a membership of less than half of that of the heyday of the ’80s, but with a very

The perennial Australians – Kathryn Delaney,

Sid Yaffe, Carol Hocking, David Hocking,

Michael Delaney, Virginia Parsons and Nick Lowes

229

strong spirit and an almost proprietorial attitude towards ‘their OCC’ that was

thoroughly healthy. They had their own regalia and trophy, but the no-nonsense

Australians didn’t want any truck with club politics and had left in droves

during the troubles. Also, it must be admitted, their early numbers were rather

generously stated and included many non-payers who, over time, were weeded

out. However the hard core remained, with many well-known names such as

Wally Burke, Sid Yaffe, John Maddox, Charles Davis, David Hocking, Mike

Delaney, Pat Wall, David Beard and most of those who had made it such a

vibrant branch over the years.

The East Coast of the States was humming, but the concentration of members

had hitherto been north of New York. The 1994 Port Officers list shows 12

from New York and northwards, against only three to the south. One Rear

Commodore had looked after the whole of the eastern seaboard, and rallies had

always been on the North East coast. Sally Henderson (see photograph page

237), had ploughed a fairly lonely furrow at Gibson Island in north Chesapeake,

and our two representatives in Florida had to rely on passing traffic. However,

by the late ’80s things began to stir further south. Bill Caldwell had joined in

1988 and the following year he and his wife Alice organised a rally at their

lovely spot on the Piankatank River. With no authority other than enthusiasm

(he wasn’t even Port Officer), he went on to run an annual spring cruise-in-

company and an autumn party that became the venue for many local members

and itinerants who soon began to plan their movements around Bill’s dates. His

rallies gathered pace and began to rival northern activities, which until then had

been largely shore-bound. It was a neat reversal of roles as previously the New

Englanders had always shown the way. It soon became clear that a more formal

arrangement was necessary, so in 1995 a new post was created and Bill was

elected the first Rear Commodore USA South East. He came over to the AGM for

his installation, bringing along his proposer and seconder, and he and Alice went on

welcoming members to the Piankatank until he retired from office in 2002.

The 1984 census by nationality showed 75 Irish members, but this had halved

by the time of the next stock-take in 1993. In my annual address in 1995 I

analysed membership trends, and it came as no surprise that the highest rate of

recruitment was in those areas where the Club was represented by a flag officer

and, therefore, where things happened. There was always a healthy trickle of

applicants from the ranks of those who had at last achieved their ambition to

qualify, but the majority came from contact with existing members at Club

events. So by 1996, when the Irish fraternity had regained such strength that

they had become the fourth largest block of members after the UK, USA and

230

Australia, it was logical that they should have their own flag officer. There was

a problem however – previously the Northern Irish members had been shown

under the United Kingdom umbrella and the southerners as a separate country.

Whilst strictly correct, sailors tend not to observe such political niceties and

they made it quite clear that any representative from Ireland should speak for

the whole island. In due course Dermod Ryan was proposed by John Gore-

Grimes from Southern Ireland and seconded by Sir Dennis Faulkner from the

North. In good Irish fashion Dermod immediately set in train OCC dinners at

Dublin’s magnificent Royal St George Yacht Club – yet another test of stamina

for the UK flag officers who could not resist the invitation to join them.

A further initiative to bind the Club into a global family was to make all overseas

flag officers members of the main committee so that they received agendas and

Plenty of stamina here – Flor Long and

Rear Commodore Ireland Peter Haden enjoy a game

231

Assent finds safe haven in Greenland

Aratapu catches a williwaw in Patagonia

232

minutes and were thus kept abreast of the thinking and arguments behind

decisions. They were, of course, always free to attend committee meetings,

and some of them did, but by knowing in advance they were able to comment

on proposals before they were cast in stone. They were also to be consulted on

the appointments of Port Officers and Roving Rear Commodores on their patches,

and made members of the Awards sub-committee, moves which ensured that

they became much more a part of the active administration of the Club.

The Cruising Information Service (CIS) had had a chequered career, but a

determined effort by Anne Hammick in the late 1980s had put some order into

it, and when Pat Pocock took it on in 1996 and put it onto disc it became much

more accessible. However, it was always grossly underused for the effort

expended in its compilation, with only two enquires for information during the

whole of 1994. Pat therefore concentrated on those areas not served by pilot

books. In an attempt to expand its use the Royal Cruising Club was contacted

with a view to arranging reciprocity with their Foreign Port Information (FPI),

and an informal agreement was eventually made whereby cross-access would

be given on a strictly non-attributable basis.

Along with the new look CIS, the stock of charts housed at the Royal Thames

YC were at last brought to order by Donald McGilivray. These had been

obtained by Colin Fergusson when BP were updating charts for their tankers,

which apparently carry coverage of the whole world, and the Club was the

beneficiary. They were housed at the RTYC but were never much used as they

were difficult to access unless you were a Londoner. Donald produced

catalogues which at least made members aware of what was available, but the

uncorrected charts gradually became so dated that they were of little value

other than for broad planning.

One spin-off from the arrangement with the Royal Cruising Club, this time in

the guise of the RCC Pilotage Foundation, was the production of a joint

publication on the Pacific. The Pococks had just returned from a seven year

circumnavigation, almost half that time being spent in the Pacific, and had sent

much useful information for the CIS. Based to a large extent on this knowledge,

Mike produced a splendid tome entitled The Pacific Crossing Guide which was

published under the joint logos of the two clubs. Clive King, Rear Commodore

USA West, wrote a most evocative foreword which eloquently put that ocean

in perspective for those who hadn’t had the good fortune to sail it. Who could

resist the enticement of these words:

‘Hold the globe between your hands, placing Tahiti more or less

in the middle, and the full immensity of the Pacific is brought into

focus. Half the world faces you and most of it is water. For

233

Mike Pocock, Commodore 1998–2002,

with Pat aboard Blackjack

234

Polynesians, Melanesians and Micronesians, this is home. They

colonised the myriad coral atolls and volcanic islands with small

sailing boats, humbling Western man with their navigation and

seamanship long before the era of European exploration.

Unlike the Atlantic, this is an ocean scattered with small island

nations, each spread over a vast area. Home is not bounded by

the seam of land and sea, but rather by a confection of water

and islands and reefs, and every Polynesian has family on the

next island, and the next. Mostly the people remain – by

temperament and by choice – immured from Western strivings,

choosing a more peaceful way to live. The lands and waters

have been kind to them, with tropical abundance, warm waters

and protective reefs providing for most needs.’

Not only was Clive Rear Commodore USA West from 1992 to 1997 and Port

Officer San Francisco from 1980 until leaving the States in 1999, but he also

spent much of his time cruising the Pacific. He built his 53ft Bruce Roberts

steel ketch Sonoma of the Isles in the early ’80s, and we were soon enjoying

yarns written in his lazy style through which you could almost hear the soughing

of the surf. For years he quartered the Pacific, changing crew and wives at

regular intervals and returning to the office in Sausalito when he needed to top

up the coffers. On one of his visits home he wandered down to the quay just in

time to take the lines of Mike and Pat Pocock who were entering the dock

entirely by coincidence. Not bad for such an itinerant PO. Clive clearly loves

the islands and writes so enthusiastically of them:

‘For the next three years, 1988 to 1991, Sonoma of the Isles

took me through Polynesia and Melanesia. Each year a new crew

and each year some months aboard and some in the office. Cook,

Stevenson, Gauguin, London, how they all wrote, painted and

told fine tales of the islands. And little has changed. So Tahiti

now has an air-conditioned shopping mall, Camembert-avion

arrives twice weekly fresh from Normandy, and the general French

silliness of rushing around pervades. But stevedores still put a

flower in their hair each morning, and that tells it all.’

Another year and another wife:

‘In 1993 Sonoma of the Isles was again restless, so we closed up

shop and sailed to Mexico and then back to French Polynesia.

Again we climbed the tropic hills of the Marquesas, wandered the

lagoons of the Tuamotus (home of the black pearls), dined and

danced with men of thunderous girth and swam in the shadow of

Moorea.’

235

While Clive was visiting old haunts in the south Pacific, the Engwirdas from

Southport, Australia were ploughing a lonely furrow across the north of that

ocean. Margaret and Andy had taken 11 years to build Bolero, their beautiful

56ft John Alden wooden yawl, and they nearly always sailed with just the two

of them. An exception was the shakedown which Andy did singlehanded to

New Zealand and Norfolk Island, 2300 miles non-stop. There is an old cruising

adage that you should not be seduced into calling at attractive ports on the way

to your chosen cruising ground, which they observe to a ridiculous degree.

They had long fancied Alaska as a change from palm-fringed islands, so in

1993 they sailed there, direct from Southport, 7600 miles non-stop, passing

almost within hailing distance of Honolulu. After messing around in Alaska for

a season they sailed home to prepare for their really long trip.

In December1995 they left Australia to visit friends in Amsterdam, taking the

clipper route south of the Great Capes. The Southern Ocean was frustrating

with a preponderance of headwinds but they were rewarded with a relatively

easy passage around the Horn:

‘When we neared Cape Horn, one last violent 60 knotter with

Bolero makes her offing

236

Tony Vasey, Commodore 1994–1998, finds

a draughty corner mid-Atlantic

Change of watch – Sally Henderson passes the baton to Erica Lowery,

congratulated by Commodore Tony Vasey

237

30ft seas and fierce squalls left Bolero shaking and trembling, as

were the skipper and his mate. By contrast the next day was

beautiful with a blue sky – grey had been the predominant colour

for weeks. On Days 51 and 52 we were totally becalmed between

latitudes 53°S and 54°S. An eerie feeling followed the storm,

and sitting in the screaming fifties with large swells and no wind

left a tight feeling in our tummies. Eventually 10–20 knots of

southwest wind came through, and we made the run for the Horn

with only 300 miles to go. On Day 55 Ramirez Island was sighted

and identified by a lighthouse, so our navigation was okay. The

Southern Ocean had been continually overcast and threatening,

yet here at the end the sky was crystal clear, the ocean an

incredible jewel colour and a spectacular sunset ended the day.

Swells from the southwest were whipped up by heavy squalls.

The tail of the great Andes mountain range slides into the ocean

on this tip of South America, making the sea quickly rise

thousands of metres to form a shallow bank. A wild place in

adverse wind and currents. In the early hours of Saturday 10

February, Day 56 of the voyage, Bolero rounded Cape Horn. We

didn’t see the ‘Old Ogre’ and decided not to wait around to take

a photograph. The swells and squalls continued and we began to

surf downhill at high speeds. Caution became the better part of

valour and we kept going. From South West Cape, New Zealand

to Cape Horn we had sailed 5568 miles in 42 days.’

On day 134 they arrived at Amsterdam, 17,100 miles without a stop. After a

four month refit they allowed themselves the luxury of day-sailing to Plymouth

so as to be able to pit themselves against the record of Francis Chichester, who

started his famous voyage from that historical port. Less than five months

from reaching Amsterdam they were off again for the non-stop passage home.

They reached the equator on day 26, exactly the same as Francis, and again

their times were the same when they rounded Good Hope on day 58. The

Indian Ocean produced mixed weather:

‘On day 75 we encountered the most serious storm of this leg, a

south-westerly of 40–60 knots. Horrifying. The swells looked at

least 40ft high, being conservative. The first front passed through

at a speed of 50–60 knots, the wind velocity increased even

further, gusting to 70 knots, and the waves mounted to 50ft and

were cresting. The storm had started with a strong gale two days

earlier, which gradually built up in strength and never abated, just

steadily worsened. Bolero has seen some bad weather over the

years but this would probably have to top everything. On several

occasions we were airborne and came crashing down into the

trough, and were repeatedly knocked sideways across the waves.

238

The ever-welcoming Peter Azevedo outside his famous Café Sport

(see page 242)

Admiral Mary applauds the ever-helpful João Fraga

239

St Paul’s Rocks seemed to become a magnet, and despite all our

efforts we missed them by only 10 miles – too close for comfort,

and the nearest we had been to land since Plymouth.’

But it wasn’t all bad:

‘By contrast, after ‘our storm’ almost a week of lovely weather

followed. The sun shone and the wind lightened to a gentle 8–10

knots, usually from the northeast. The lightweight reaching sail

emerged out of the forecabin and could be raised once more.’

A reception committee had been arranged for their ETA, but strong southerlies

meant they were three days early so had the frustration of wasting time in

heavy seas so as not to cause embarrassment. The total voyage was 33,000

miles in 13 months. Discounting the potter in the English Channel, they had

made only one stop and deservedly took both the Australian Trophy and the

Barton Cup for this incredible endurance test.

The Club took some time to come to terms with the communications revolution

of the 1990s, perhaps because of the conservative nature of the then hierarchy,

but pressure from modernists such as Dick Guckel, Neil Wilkie and Andrew

Bray forced a move towards the new electronic era. In 1996 Dick started his

register of e-mail addresses, but even after a year the number listed was only

33. However it was a start, soon enhanced by the inclusion of other useful data

on member’s qualifications and expertise, allowing faster movement of

information between members. Brooke Davis of New York was well ahead of

the European thinking, preaching the merits of the internet with missionary

zeal. A questionnaire was therefore circulated, eliciting a good response and

showing that many members were keen and ready to embrace this advance in

communications. It is difficult now to cast one’s mind back to the era before e-

mail and websites, but there were a surprising number of luddites. Scotty Allen

replied, ‘We go to sea to get away from complications’, while Roger Fothergill

expressed his usual light-hearted view, ‘There are two computer buffs on this

island. Both are harmless but weird’.

A sub-committee under Neil culminated in 1997 with the Club piggy-backing

on the Conference of Cruising Yacht Clubs website and offering a page of Club

details for general consumption. One of the concerns in those early and innocent

days was the likely cost to the Club as so little was known about the functioning

of this new media. Coincidentally, Nickie Cooper, widow of recently deceased

member Robin, offered to fund a trophy in his memory. The Club already had

an embarrassment of awards but Nickie was sufficiently broad-minded to accept

the argument that the funds could be better applied to the creation and

240

maintenance of a website. The wheel had gone full circle since 1955 when

Hum, with his aversion to competitive awards, had persuaded the first person

to offer a prize to apply the money to reward ideas and inventions instead. To

obviate any major design costs, Graham Johnson offered to set the design of a

Club website as a project for his university students, with them being paid in

the kind that most students enjoy – food and beer. Much of the resulting site is

still in use today, ably run by Mike Downing as web-master.

Members were surprisingly conservative in their desire for colour in Flying

Fish, at first regarding it as an unnecessary luxury, but one improvement which

they did applaud was the production of much improved track charts. So often

good articles were spoilt by the reader not knowing where the writer was when

detailing his or her movements, so when, in 1996, Andrew Bray suggested they

should be drawn by Yachting World’s professional cartographer the offer was

enthusiastically endorsed.

During the course of my travels as Commodore I had noticed that the flying

fish logo had developed many variants, from the slim-line, high-speed model

depicted on the cover of the magazine to the rather jolly smiling fellow on the

burgee. The Australian fish had mutated to a rather lethargic chap who seemed

to be having difficulty getting airborne, and individual members had coined

their own depending on their artistic abilities. So in 1996 Colin Mudie, who had

designed the original logo some 40 years earlier, was asked to redraw the

‘definitive fish’. The result was the much happier chap first seen cavorting on

the cover of Flying Fish on the second issue of 1997 and who has since been

adopted worldwide.

In 1997 a member of long-standing telephoned Flying Fish editor Anne

Hammick saying how much he enjoyed the magazine and that he wished to

help financially if the Club was in need of updating its production facilities.

The result was a complete new package of hardware and software which