The story of a 90-mile coastal cruise in two Moth Class 11- footers - re-printed from the Australian magazine “Seacraft” (January 1950)

The smaller the boat, the more fun you can have sailing her. That's how our family - Dad, brother Frank and I - felt about harbour sailing, and we decided to find out whether our opinion would still hold when applied to short-range cruising.

Our chance came last February; we were due for a fortnight's holiday, and we began provisioning our "fleet" for a company cruise up the coast from Auckland. The "Fleet" in question consisted of Moth Classers Dido and Takake, built to American class restrictions. With an overall length of 11' and beam of 4' 3", these skimmer-type craft are bulk headed fore and aft of the cockpit, thus being practically unsinkable. A Bermuda cat rig of approximately 75 sq. ft. gives them a fair turn of speed. Dido, sailed by Dad on this venture, was built by him from magazine plans, while Takake, sailed by Frank, was my creation. I took turns crewing on the two craft.

Our food, clothing and camping gear were stowed in four-gallon tins with lever lids, and all our other gear was placed aboard, ready to sail on the first day of our holidays - but alas, our cruise now seemed impossible. There was no room left for us in the boats! We finally managed to stow ourselves on board somehow, and then came another hold-up - the weather. It had rained heavily all night, and just as we prepared to push off, the sky frowned again and scattered drops began to fall. "Fine sailors we'd be if we allowed a bit of rain to stop us," we said after a bit of deliberation. And off we went from Islington Bay, Rangitoto Island, at 7.35 a.m. on Sunday, February 6.

As soon as we had set sail, the rain came down in earnest. As the wind was N.E. and we were in the lee of Rangitoto, it did not unduly bother us at first. But as we headed out into Rangitoto Channel, we realised what the weather was really like, for rain reduced our visibility to 50'. I doubt whether I have ever experienced such torrential downpours. Pouring down the sail, rain cascaded into the boat in a miniature waterfall, making constant bailing necessary. Towards noon the rain moderated just enough to show us that, by sailing as close to the wind as it is possible in a small boat against a choppy sea, we would probably be able to lay Wade Heads. The news was welcome, and we struggled in that direction.

At 12.30 p.m., with rain still falling steadily, we sailed into the Wade River and pulled our boats up on the sandy pit opposite the wharf. We pitched our small hiker's tent and managed to light a fire clustering round it for a bit of warmth, The weather cleared later in the afternoon, enabling us to dry our clothes and make our camp snug and comfortable. Monday began with showers; not anxious to repeat yesterday's performance, we hitch-hiked to Silverdale in the morning, 'phoned our family and bought stores. The sky cleared in the afternoon, and we left Wade Heads at 3.30, sailing out to the end of Whangaparaoa Peninsula, where we made camp for the night in Shakespeare's Bay. This was a very pleasant sail of about three hours, against a light N.E. wind and moderately choppy sea.

We woke up to a fine morning, breakfasted, stowed our gear and got away by 6.30, while wind and tide were in our favour. A light nor'easter, with smooth seas and sunny sky, made the sail to Kawau Island the most enjoyable part of the cruise. We passed the old copper mine at 9.30 and reached Mansion House Bay at 11 o'clock. After 'phoning home and restocking our larder, a short sail took us to the other side of Bon Accord Harbour, where we lunched later in the afternoon. Then we sailed further up harbour to Lidgard's boatyard in Smelting House Bay, where Mrs. Roy Lidgard made us welcome. We spent two days camping on their property, watching the boat building and planning "dream ships". We left Kawau on Thursday morning at 6.15 and headed up the coast again. Light headwinds still persisted, making progress rather slow. In fact we were very nearly becalmed for the first three hours. We did not pass Takatu Point till 10,30, but then the breeze freshened and our course brought the wind more on the beam, enabling us to make better time and to arrive at Leigh at half past twelve. We made camp that night in a pleasant little inlet almost opposite the wharf, and spent the evening with a local farmer. Up at sunrise once more, we were again packed and ready at 6.15 sharp.

The weather was much the same as the previous day, and the going was so slow at first that we were sorely tempted to go back to Leigh. However we slowly moved ahead against the light northerly breeze and passed Goat Island at about 9 o'clock. Having at least made a start and seeing that the weather was favourable, we decided to attempt the 30-odd miles to our final goal - Whangarei Heads. The sea was smooth but a big swell was running. We completely lost sight of one another in the troughs, which was rather disconcerting, in such small boats. Doing our best not to worry about it, we sailed steadily on, bringing To Arai Point abeam about midday. By mid afternoon we were fairly close to Sail Rock, its precipitous cliffs looming sail-like about a mile and a half to seaward.

The wind freshened and drew ahead as we neared Bream Head; not wishing to get too close because of the squally conditions usually encountered under high headlands, we sailed into the harbour entrance over Mair Bank. With the swell running this gave us a few anxious moments, but the tide was still high and the bank was easily crossed. However, with the tide rapidly ebbing and darkness drawing close, it was risky to press on further. We beached our boats and made camp amid the scrub and sand on Narsden Point, ending our longest day's run. Thirteen and a half hours in a couple of Moths! No wonder our cramped legs would scarcely carry us up the beach.

Next morning saw us sailing at a quarter to six, to get through the narrow harbour entrance before the tide turned. Light winds again made progress slow but comfortable. After a couple of hours we went ashore for breakfast on a beach in Macleod's Bay. A generous repast and general clean up made the time pass quickly, and it was almost midday before we got under way again. Onerahi was our next stop. We spent the afternoon watching Whangarei yachts racing; the racing programme over, we sailed up river with the fleet, arriving at the Whangarei Town Basin at 4.30 p.m., exactly an hour from Onerahi.

Our coastwise voyage was over, and Auckland was 90 miles and a total of 37 hours sailing time behind us. We stayed a week in Whangarei before shipping our boats back to Auckland, and we enjoyed the hospitality of Whangarei Cruising Club members, who accommodated us in their pleasant clubhouse. Lest you should think that we shipped the boats back because we did not relish the idea of cruising back in them, let me assure you this was not the case; we simply did not have the time to sail them back, unless we cut short our Whangarei visit, which we certainly did not want to do.

And I think that brother Frank, even after sailing 20,000 miles of blue Pacific in Kurrewa, will still agree with me when I say that on our little cruise we found that, "The smaller the boat, the greater the sport."