‘The trick is to make yourself useful’: a beginner’s guide to sailing
Usually thought of as a rich man’s sport, you do not need to afford a yacht to sail one – the main cost is in becoming a competent crew member
Sailing has always been something best appreciated from land, I thought. Crisp, white sails dotting Sydney harbour more of a beautiful sight than an activity to get involved in.
I am also not fantastically wealthy having opted for a career in journalism rather than, say, owning a casino, so have long assumed this rules me out.
And if money was no barrier, skills surely would be. The Sydney to Hobart race, Australia’s best known yacht event starting Boxing Day every year, certainly makes it look daunting.
But here I am at a marina at the picturesque Rushcutters Bay in Sydney stepping aboard Karma – a 35ft Dufour – for a sailing lesson.
My instructor is David Kelly who took up sailing in 1985, “because it was cheaper than flying”. Not exactly dispelling the rich man’s sport theory so far, but we’ll come back to that.
Beginners would normally start with a minimum two-day training course ($595 at EastSail). We have only two hours. A quick chat about wind direction and different sailing modes – that I hope will make more sense on the water – and we’re pulling out into Sydney harbour on a glorious summer morning. Life jackets on of course, although Kelly reassures me the only time a student fell in was trying to get off the boat before the floating pier was installed.
It seems in no time at all, I’m at the helm sailing “close haul”. This term has something to do with the wind in relation to the sails that I have still not fully grasped.
There are many new nautical terms. Before we’ve reached the Harbour Bridge, I do a tac (turn the boat 90 degrees) and pull some ropes to assist with a “gybe” where the sail switches from one side of the vessel to the other.
Kelly takes over so I can look up at the underside of the bridge I’ve driven over many times – a less conventional but no less impressive Sydney view.
I realise how tense I’ve been at the helm, anxious about tipping over as the wind tilts us alarmingly to one side, keeping the sails in the right spot or avoiding other boats zipping about. For Kelly it’s the opposite. “It’s so natural. Sailing was my sanity. You have to slow down, it’s all about feeling the water.”
So is it a rich man’s sport? “It definitely can be but it doesn’t have to be,” Kelly reassures. In terms of what to wear, the only thing you wouldn’t already find in an average wardrobe is a pair of gloves (about $30) but even that’s not essential.
Crucially, you don’t need to own a boat. Because those that do need crew.
The main cost is in gaining competence. After completing the initial two-day training, there’s the option to do a further three days to achieve competent crew or day skipper level ($1,125 at EastSail). There are other models, but this is the UK’s Royal Yachting Association certification, which is widely known and internationally recognised.
At this point you’re ready to join a crew. The Cruising Yacht Club of Australia has a concierge scheme to match skippers with crew members or you can simply rock up a couple of hours before a race starts and ask boat owners directly.
The trick, Kelly says, is to make yourself useful. Even if that’s helping to fold a sail or making a mean toastie in a galley kitchen, Kelly says “there’s a role for everyone”.
He offers a word of caution: some clubs are “a bit posh, bit full of themselves”. Look for races run by clubs that have sail schools attached and you’ll generally find some graduate-friendly events.
You can also organise a group of six to eight people and charter a boat. Prices start at about $1,000 a day. Kelly has sailed in many places – Singapore, Hong Kong, Seattle – but says Sydney is the best. “My favourite thing is to go for a sail up to Quarantine Bay, drop anchor, have a swim, have a beer.”
So it is possible to enjoy sailing without being a mogul. It does seem inevitable, however, that aficionados will dream of owning their own boat one day, at which point you’re looking at a small fortune and ongoing maintenance costs. As we’re cruising around the harbour, Kelly points out the yacht he owns, with three others. It’s called Sanity.
This piece was supported by Destination NSW and EastSail
