When I retired in 2006 we owned a beautiful trailer yacht called Blizzard. It was a Spider 24 meaning it was 24 feet long (7.3 metres) and was towed behind our Toyota Prado. It took us on many adventures, exploring the Gippsland Lakes, welcoming the year 2000 on Sydney Harbour as well as giving us endless fun on the many lakes and bays along the NSW coast.
Blizzard had many modern amenities. The retractable keel came up at the press of a button, there were two single bunks and a V-berth, a small galley with a spirit stove and sink as well a private portable toilet.
The disadvantages were that rigging was time consuming, the mast was difficult to raise and the lightweight sandwich foam construction meant that great care had to be taken launching and retrieving so as not to damage the hull.
As time went by we found we were using the caravan more often as the boat sat idle beside the house. We advertised it and soon it was heading out the driveway behind someone else’s truck. Did we have any regrets? Not really, as we were planning overseas trips and felt if we wanted to be on a boat we could hire one.
Years passed. Then the months of lockdown arrived. We couldn’t travel overseas, interstate or even out of our council area for a while. Idly flicking through boat ads I saw a familiar boat. It was a Noelex 25 and belonged to someone we knew. It wouldn’t hurt to take a look, would it?
Slightly bigger than our last boat, it was the Rolls Royce of trailer yachts in the 1980s. John used to fantasize about owning one but they were always too expensive. Forty years later it looks a little dated but is still very functional. The hull is solid fibreglass, the mast is relatively easy to raise and the roomy cabin features a combination fridge/freezer powered by two batteries and a solar panel permanently fixed above the stern of the boat. The only disadvantage over our last boat is the keel which takes 99 turns of a handle to be fully retracted.
A week later Offshore Account was parked neatly beside our house. Although I’m not a great fan of the name I doubt we’ll change it. Looking through the folder of paperwork that came with the boat I found snippets of information about its past. Built in New Zealand in 1983 it was originally called New York New York but was renamed after it made its way to Australia. For a time it sailed in the Whitsunday region before moving down to Brisbane where it roamed Moreton Bay. Our friend David had driven up to Queensland to bring it home to Wollongong. Now it was our turn to give it some new experiences.
The day we were to launch it on Lake Illawarra started well. David showed us many of the tricks of rigging peculiar to this class of boat and I took a number of photos so we wouldn’t forget. The mast was up, the sails were ready to raise, the motor was attached to the stern and we were ready to launch.
Just check the motor first. Oh, it won’t start! Just try again. Still won’t start. I think its flooded.
David was shocked. It had worked perfectly last time he tried it. He removed it from the boat and drove to a repair shop, returning empty handed. They were keeping it overnight. So all we could do was unrig the boat and drive it home.
Two days later we were on the water. The motor was working brilliantly. With the sails up and a gentle breezes blowing we felt we had made the right decision. The only problem was it took us two hours to rig the boat and nearly as long to retrieve it, unrig, clean the hull and flush the motor, put the sails in the bags, tie the boat straps on the trailer, connect the lights and drive it home.
Best to take the boat to a lake and stay for a week on board. Then we would only have to launch and retrieve once. The trouble is it rained, and rained. For months it rained. Sick of waiting for good weather we bit the bullet and picked a date. A good friend of ours would bring his Farr 6 and attempt to sail it single handed with a little bit of help from us.
The first thing that went wrong happened before we left. John ran through water on the path in scuffs, slipped and fell on his back. Although he didn’t seem to have sustained major damage he was stiff and sore for some time. The second problem was raising the mast on our friend’s boat. The mast step broke so he was destined to spend the week unable to sail.
Despite all the problems we were soon motoring to our favourite sheltered creek in St Georges Basin. Alas someone was camped there in OUR SPOT! Further up the creek we tied to a tree, put up our large boom tent for the first time and cracked the first beer. Then it poured. All night.
Our friend was worried about his trailer but after motoring back to Sussex we found we were the ones with a problem. We had left the passenger side window down and the car was drenched. Some kind person had tried to cover the window with a garbage bag but it didn’t help.
In year’s past we had always tied up to an unused jetty. However, we were chased off by someone who claimed it belonged to his rental. We were also chased away from a new unused jetty with fierce locals dialling their mobile phones and speaking loudly about two yachts tied up, and finished up under a big tree with a tricky climb ashore.
There were times when we were glad to be on the water. The sunsets with cloud filled skies were spectacular. We swam in the shallow water of the sand island. However the beaches showed the effects of flooding, with foam and driftwood spoiling the usually pristine sand.
Quite a few months later La Niña showed signs of abating. We planned for the grandchildren to experience what their mother had grown up with. Every school holiday our children had spent on the water, sleeping, eating and playing in the confines of the small cabin of an RL24. How we all survived none of us knows.
Lake Macquarie was the waterway of choice. It is a deep, magnificent lake just south of Newcastle. The launch at Styles Point was uneventful and we noted children jumping off a jetty into a netted swimming area. Perfect for the grandkids (and us, in the ensuing hot weather). My daughter rented a cottage on a hill overlooking the lake and our son relived his childhood by spending two days sleeping on the boat. It was a good combination of sailing, landing on deserted islands, eating at lakeside clubs and pubs and most important of all, showering at my daughter’s B&B.
Pumped with our success we invited sailing friends to accompany us on a one day sail on our local lake. Having other sailors on board made life easy for me. Eating fresh prawns on crunchy bread rolls, sipping a crisp white wine and admiring the Illawarra escarpment from a comfortable seat was a brief respite before the sails were raised and we were flying across the lake towards home.
I must admit that sailing is not as easy on our aging bodies as it used to be. Bruises and sore muscles, aching backs and stiff joints are part of the price we pay. I think of it as equivalent to a serious workout at the gym. There is an old joke that says the two best days in a boat owner’s life are the day they buy a boat and the day they sell it. Hopefully we will have a few more happy experiences before we decide to pass Offshore Account onto the next owner.
The Curry Apple Orchard 