It's been a while.

I've been locked in a very private battle with a personal health condition. Lately my focus has been on my wife, my family, my friends, my home and my work.

Recently my wife and I went away on a weekend break to a small east coast harbour town in Northland NZ called Mangonui ("big shark" in the Maori language) The harbour was given this name  after the story of one of the first voyaging canoes to visit this harbour 1000 years ago. it is said that this canoe was guided into the harbour entrance by a very large shark.,

As we settled into our harbour side accommodation I casually picked up a Boating New Zealand Magazine off the coffee table and began to flick through the pages. This was the May 2016 edition.

At the index page I noticed an article with a photograph of one of my friend Gary Dierking's Wa'apa designs. I went to page 40 and read this article.

I appreciate your credit and your friendship Gary!

"Home grown hydrodynamics" Written by Lindsay Wright. Reproduced with permission of the Author.

 

Wa'apa on Coromandel harbour.

Designer/builder Gary Dierking.

Home grown hydrodynamics

       It’s not only oysters that flourish in Gary Dierking and Rose Turners’ tidal Coromandel neighbourhood.

   There’s also a flow of boats and boating ideas, some drawn from millennia of seafaring wisdom, that emanate from their waterfront property.

   In the corrugated iron shed adjoining their house, Gary Dierking designs, builds and experiments with the range of proas which has built him a worldwide fan base.

     Strange surroundings for a farm boy brought up in Wisconsin, USA – but one, near the heart of Oceania, that has become his turangawaewae (place to stand).

  “I started playing with model boats on the farm pond when I was about eight years old,” he recalls quietly. ”I couldn’t get them to sail properly – so I built some plywood outriggers and realised that they sailed a lot better – and steered more directly.”

     He did what many boat crazy boys from inland USA do – joined the coastguard – and was posted to Wake Island in the North Pacific, where he worked in electronics and avionics. 

   “I saw the locals zipping around in their traditional vessels and that started my deep admiration of Oceania’s seafaring traditions. These people explored one third of the globe in boats that were tied together with string. “

    That realisation led Dierking’s questing mind to start wondering whether traditional Oceanic ideas still made sense – and could still be used to fast boats that were seaworthy and fun to sail, yet cheap and easy to build.

    “To people stuck in our Western world mindset, proas look flimsy and unstable….but they are the vessels that made the ancient peoples’ voyaging possible. One reason the proa succeeded, with the ama (outrigger) to windward, are low stresses from the rig  which made them good for building with low tech materials.” 

     Dierking talked to island people and read widely about Oceania navigation and boat building – then demobbed from the USCG and returned to San Francisco  where he contacted multihull designer Jim Brown for plans to build one of his plywood Searunner 37 {11.3m) designs.

   Once the boat, Bird of Dawning, was finished Dierking set sail for Saipan, in the Marianas Islands, where he began work as a boatbuilder.

   A handful of traditional navigators still lived in the islands of the west Pacific and Dierking once again immersed himself in their knowhow and that of local boatbuilders. ”Some big waka were still making interisland passages, ”he explained. “ I realised that these people weren’t just travelling in a survival module in a hostile environment – the ocean – like we do. They lived on the ocean – they belonged there…and had done for generations.”

   After 10 years in Saipan, he was offered a job with Hawaiian high speed multihull guru, Rudy Choy and did four years applying the benefits of modern technology to rapid racing catamarans. “ In the 1980’s, Rudy built a 60 foot (18.3m) cat to beat the Transpac race record from San Francisco to Hawaii. She had alloy cross beams which cracked under the strain – so we built composite beams out of spruce, birch and plywood which were lighter and stronger. The next race the beams held up and the boat, Aikane X-5, took the record.”

    “But I didn’t get to sail on the boat, ” he sighs ruefully, “they bought in a bunch of rock stars for that.”

     Meanwhile,  Rose  was yearning for her home town, Coromandel  so, in 1990, the couple followed the course of Kupe south to Aotearoa.

      Dierking soon settled in his new hometown, working as a boat builder on commercial boats tied to the main wharf and developing ideas and designs for better boats.

    His proa design portfolio grew – I was trying to develop a new way of going cruising – you sail places in your big boat then, in a couple of weeks and for a few hundred dollars, you can build a proa on the beach and go exploring, to places you can’t go with the big boat,” he explained.

    The Dierkings built their own proa on the beach in Savusavu, Fiji (“they have good marine plywood there and Fijian kauri for structural timbers – all we took was glue, nails and a two horsepower outboard”) .   

    The couple left that proa in Savusavu for fishing, exploring and skimming over the reef during their regular visits.

   About 500 sets of  Dierking’s plans have been sold for proa projects in Canada, the US, Mexico, Brazil, UK, France Spain, Poland, India, Japan, Australia and New Zealand.

    “The sort of people who build proas aren’t the kind who aren’t likely to follow plans – they would all have had their own ideas – so I doubt whether there’s two boats the same,” he laughed. One boat was built with a traditional Brazilian rig.

   One Kiwi builder finished his proa then, within a week or two, sailed over 200 nm around the Hauraki Gulf in her.

   Dierking has designed a range of boats, both tacking and shunting (going about by swapping the rudder and the tack of the sail from one end of the waka to another) designs inspired by Oceanic tradition with a dollop of modern technology. Depending on the rig, they sail at 12 – 13 knots and tack through 90 degrees.

   Proa people make contact through his website, his book: Building Outrigger Sailing Canoes, or word of mouth. A friend emailed recently to say a pdf of the book was available on an Iraqi boating website. “It’s on a Russian website too – that’s technology for you,” he grinned.

    Other ideas that have hatched from Dierking’s shed are an 18 foot (5.5m) strip planked macoracarpa steam launch , several experimental asymmetric hulls and Tipairua, a 25 foot (7.6m) voyager for the Te Toki Voyaging Trust in Kawhia.

   Just above the tideline is an old Lightning catamaran with an elevated deck attached. “It does 13 knots with a nine horsepower outboard,” he says, “but it just dies with more than two people aboard, so I’m going to rebuild the hulls this winter with more volume – more buoyancy.”

 Spidery model waka (variously called vaka, Va ‘a, Vava depending on the island of origin) from  Pacific countries are on display throughout their house and Dierking delights in pointing out different hull forms and shapes, explaining the conditions and roles they were developed for.

  “I took one of my proa surfing at Whangamata – just to see what happened, ”he smiled. “Well….we got rolled… pitchpoled… swamped and dumped. But the boat survived. That convinced me that lashing is the way to go – a bolted and screwed boat would likely have wrenched itself to pieces.”

    Russell Brown, the son of Jim Brown who designed Dierking’s Searunner trimaran, stopped in New Zealand during a trans Pacific cruise in JZerro – his 36 foot (11m) proa but was disappointed by many Kiwis scathing reaction to his boat.

   “People just don’t understand proa….they look flimsy and complicated. You have to wrap your head around a completely new way of thinking. People just can’t think beyond having a big hunk of lead bolted underneath their boat,” he says.

    Dierking shares credit for some of his ideas with Northland proa sailor/builder Harmen Hielkema. “He’s been sailing proas since he was 18 – there’s not much he doesn’t know.”

    More ideas came from the 2009 New Zealand Proa Congress at Whangaparaoa. “Almost every proa in the country was there ….designed and built by aviation engineers, doctors, designers….what a great meeting of minds.”

    Kupe, or any of the great Pacific navigators, would have felt right at home.  

   

Ends…

Recommended reading:  We, the Navigators by Dr David Lewis; Canoes of Oceania by A.C.Haddon and James Hornell; The Last Navigator by Stephen D. Thomas.   

Our "End of Time" visit to Gary and Rose

Guess what Julie and I decided to do with our last few days of this age of the Earth? Why visit Gary and Rose of course.

Gary's Va'a Motu with Harmen Hielkema and Gary Dierking in Coromandel. Photo by Julie Holton

Weather and tide conspired to provide a window to allow Gary and me to take his Va'a Motu for a sail.

We had a light easterly blowing offshore, though a local rotor around the headland (in the background) meant beating off the beach for the first  stage of the trip. I got to steer!

The waka has a voluminous hull which accommodates the two of us comfortably with no noticeable loss of performance. With the main and jib sheeted home the waka slides through the water with barely a trace of a wake and very little noise.  I immediately took to the feel of this sail boat, very slight weather helm, just how I like it, everything positioned just where it should be.

The rudder in its cassette is very easily reached and manipulated. I particularly like this solution for shallow water sailing as the blade remains partially retracted in it's correct position to maintain control as you leave or approach the beach. A taught bungy restraining cord allows for partial blade displacement out of the case during any accidental grounding.

The main sheet is arranged by a network of leech bridles, much like a junk sail, which provides excellent support and control for the boomless, full battened mainsail.

The Jib features a luff wire which is connected top and bottom to a swivel  furling system, allowing for immediate dousing of the head sail.

Gary's home made roller furling set up on his Va'a Motu

Gary and I headed for a beach up wind on the far side of the Harbour. Gary had noticed a non responsive GPS screen which he needed dry land to attend to. On starboard tack the ama sits to leeward so we were in trimaran mode as Gary likes to call it, with the ama taking the full share of the righting moment. There was however enough wind to allow me to ride on the windward lounger chair with it's poly canvas back support, great for an old codger like me. I don't think that I've ever been so comfortable on a small sail boat before, in fact I know I haven't!

Reaching the beach amidst a number of curious but uncomprehending onlookers, Gary whipped out the GPS from its watertight bulkhead compartment but was unable to make anything happen.

Being a perfect luddite I couldn't care less about no GPS and I was eager to get moving again. Gary took over control of the mainsheet to make me even more comfortable. and proceeded to put on his sailing gloves, one of which dropped over the side unnoticed. Once the glove was missed I suggested we run back down the trail of bubbles to retrieve it so we gibed around and retraced our wake, there sure enough was the floating glove. Gary asked me to steer so he could easily retrieve it, got it with pin point accuracy. He needn't have said a word, this canoe goes exactly where you want it to!

Gybing back around we set off across the harbour steadily easing sheets until we were broad reaching through the largest flock of black swans I have ever seen. Startled they all took to the air simultaneously. They are comical to watch as they literally run on the water with their necks out streached, working their wings furiously as they struggle to get their full bellies airborne. The massed sound of the clapping of their webbed feet sounded like an audience applauding.

We harden up on the wind when we finally run out of water and we sail back out of the bay across a commercial oyster farm. This waka tacks effortlessly through a true 90 degrees which makes Va'a Motu as weatherly as any small boat I've sailed. We had a brief moment when a roll to windward reminded us both that we are not as agile as we once were. Gary's sponson "trainer wheel" was always a reassuring back up once the ama came out to windward on port tack.

We investigated and discussed the merits of various ocean going yachts moored in Coromandel Harbour before we finally turned our bow toward home in anticipation of a late lunch and a cold boutique beer of which we are both very fond.

Our rudder clumped into a submerged oyster bag as we approached Gary's slipway with nothing more that a light scratch to tell the tale, roll up the jib and I stepped off the bow into ankle deep water ready to settle the waka on to it's tiny dolly wheels ready to pull a surprisingly light load up the beach and on to the grass of Gary and Rose's back lawn.

Va'a Motu on Gary and Rose's back lawn.

This trip serves to remind me just how much I love yachting, particularly on a waka and most particularly with a close friend who's sailing skills match my own perfectly.

Thanks Gary.

Sunday 28th Feb

I decided to take Toroa out to test the newly repaired outboard motor.

After the Chilean Tsunami alert was downgraded to an advisory I thought it would be safe to enter the water to retrieve Toroa from anchor in the tidal stream at Rawene.
I had not counted on the king tide (the highest in 7 years) and the force of the outgoing tidal flow.

I was immediately impressed and mildly fearful that I had not judged my swim trajectory to Toroa across the current.

I just made it.

Once on board I lifted the anchor in a dying south easterly. The breeze was completely gone by the time I raised my mainsail.

Toroa would not respond to any force I could exert without a paddle or out board motor (still on shore) me in my speedos waiting for the wind and heading off toward Australia at a respectable 4-5 knots.

No paddle, no PFD, no clothes, no sun block, no water and no wind.

Poor Julie was dwindling into the distance, a lonely anxious figure on the wharf. Mercifully a light breeze came up and I was able to regain control.

One hour and several shunts later I was fitting the outboard motor at the beach, 20 meters from where I first set out.
Julie took the opportunity to berate me for leaving myself (and her) so vulnerable.

"Just honing my skills mate"was my glib (though somewhat sheepish reply).

The motor started first pull of the starter cord!
We climbed on board with all our gear and provisions  and set off up the Waima River against the tide with the idea in mind that should the motor fail we would still have the current to bear us homeward.

Toroa runs better than expected under power. The Dierking foil works a treat and the new prop, 7 1/4"x 5" is just the right pitch for my set up. I estimate we made around 7 knots of boat speed with 2.5 Hp. with the mast stepped. That will do me.

I received an informal complaint later made by Mrs Fish from the Hokianga Takeaway shop (Mrs Fish and Mr Chip have a commanding view of the area where our little drama was playing itself out) that a man of my age in speedos was pushing the boundaries of respectability.  I remarked later that had I been a buffed, bronzed athlete the speedos could not have been brief enough.

 

Harmen & Julie at Rawene 

Photo by Rose Dierking 

A few thoughts after the launch of Toroa

The weather was awful with a squally, cold southwesterly wind gusting to gale force. The sunny intervals allowed for photography, thanks Julie!
Several brave souls turned out. Julie my long suffering and patient wife, my son Robert and his girlfriend Hannah, Paul and Liz Bowker, their daughter in law Ha ping and her two daughters Anna and Madelaine also in attendance was a colleague of mine from the Hospital, Louise and her son.

The launch went as planned but for unexpected problems with Toroa's old trolley.
Mike and I had built this trolley to roll Toroa on and off the road trailer (road trailers and salt water do not mix well).
The day before the launch I inflated the tires on the little trolley to a pressure I judged suitable.
We rolled Toroa off the trailer at the Rawene boat ramp but as soon as we began maneuvering there was an enormous bang as one of the wheels exploded. The rims are of a red plastic material quite faded after 10 years in the sun. The faded outer rim decided to give up the fight for gestalt and defaulted to its equilibrium (in this case several jagged pieces).
We continued the launch and successfully motored around the boat ramp staying well inside the sheltered area. On retrieval the second wheel joined its partner in a terrifying under water explosion that covered Robert in water. Getting Toroa back on the trailer was achieved thanks to the support of the onlookers.
I discovered later that the motor was limited to half throttle which I adjusted at home.
Even at half throttle Toroa easily motored at 6-7 knots with the 2.5 horse motor.
As expected a little slow to turn to starboard (against the ama) however maneuvering to Port away from the ama went well.
Some cavitation occurred whilst turning which was expected. I'll modify the shaft with a fairing at Gary Dierking's suggestion.
The next step is for me to set up on the lawn and re assemble the rig. I'll chose an auspicious day and re launch with some pomp and ceremony, perhaps even a Maori blessing if I can persuade one of our local elders to attend.
I'll keep you posted.