A trip down memory lane- Lawso’s ’75 Sydney- Mooloolaba Race by David Lawson

Once again Helsal competed in the Mooloolaba race, in 1975 getting beaten home by Jack Rooklyn’s new boat, Ballyhoo although we did manage to get in front of them through the Solitary Islands.

Two things that stand out in my mind about this race actually happened after we had finished.

After we crossed the finish line two representatives from Mooloolaba Yacht Club jumped on board and informed me that the channel had been dredged out and we would be able to moor alongside the club’s pontoon as long as we did not mind the keel being in the mud at low tide. This sounded pretty good to us as the previous year we had to moor between the piles in the centre of the river which created quite a problem with crew wanting to travel backwards and forwards at all different times during the day and night.

At one stage that year there had been a few of us trying to get back in the early hours of the morning, but all three dinghies which had been supplied were at the boat. After being unable to raise anyone on Helsal some bright spark suggested that as it was only about 25 yards out we should be able to swim it easily. Having built up plenty of courage during the day, this sounded like a pretty good idea so away we went, the only problem being that the tide was racing in full bore and most of us ended up in the mangrove swamps that were upriver in those days. Luckily a couple made the boat and were able to bring the dinghy in for us once we had staggered back and started yelling for help.

Once the boat had been packed away we started motoring in and I casually asked the locals what the tide was doing. They informed me that it was running out and then explained that trawlers were moored stern in to the river bank nearly up as far as the club’s pontoon. It was during this discussion that I realised that the tide, instead of going out was actually running in.

At that stage the worry beads were brought out as Helsal was not the easiest of boats to control under power and trying to stop it in reverse was nearly impossible especially with the tidal race in the river. Calling Oddie back we held a quick council of war and came up with plan A, we never did think of plan B, which might possibly work.

Because there was not enough room for us to spin the boat around, we had done this the previous year with the help of tenders on a slack tide, Oddie would prepare a bow spring and be ready to throw it and try to explain to anyone on the pontoon what we required to be done with the loop. My job would be to come around the bow of the last trawler as close as possible, get Helsal in as close as possible without hitting anything and allowing Oddie to cast the line to anyone on the pontoon, with the hope that they would understand his directions. If this little exercise was completed successfully, Oddie would then gradually take up the strain on the spring while I, with my heart in my mouth, would go full ahead with the rudder hard over to port and hope that the wash from the propeller acting against the rudder would push the stern into the pontoon close enough to get a stern line across. It all sounded great in theory.

As we edged our way around the trawlers, at the same time keeping enough speed on to maintain steerage, my heart rate slowed down a bit when I heard a voice calling out and asking Oddie whether that was a bow spring he was holding. I recognised the voice as belonging to Don Tracey, an ex-Master Mariner who had basically given up his profession to follow a career ocean racing around the world. Don knew the problem I was facing and with his help and knowledge we soon had the boat safely moored to the pontoon.

Having a drink with Don after we had tied up, it appeared that we both were thinking along the same lines during this exercise, that maybe the piles holding the pontoon would not be strong enough to stop 45 ton of boat doing two to three knots and we could both imagine boat, pontoon and the welcoming party on the pontoon disappearing up river if the piles had given way.

That afternoon the crew decided it was time to introduce Mooloolaba Yacht Club to a Helsal style party. Once again, we endeavoured to borrow a small cement mixer, but not having the same contacts in those days at Mooloolaba that we do now, we did not know the right people to approach.

Not to be outdone the crew pooled resources, bought one and hid it down below during the middle of the night. The moment the bar opened the next morning we proceeded to buy copious quantities of rum and cases of coke. The word soon went around and it wasn’t long before the party the was in full swing and once again the cement mixer was the hit of the day. The locals soon got into the swing of things and I don’t think it ever ran dry. At the time we didn’t realise the consequences that this would create next year…

 

Photo – The crew of Helsal including David Lawson. Credit – contributed.