Long perilous yacht trip mainly for birds

Press, 13 September 1988, Page 13

Long perilous yacht trip mainly for birds

By

BRIGIT MANNING

“I feel like a man returned from the dead. I have just survived the most terrible experience, terrible and wonderful. How on Earth I survived I just can’t imagine. “The wind came up with tremendous force, white spray was flung high, high into the air. I prayed very loudly. 1 struggled hard trying to get the anchor up. She was going farther and farther towards the rocks. It was an absolute nightmare but the worst was still to come.

“The engine stalled, suddenly stopped, Oh, God, no, what a time. I rushed forward to let the anchor out but it was too late. There was a terrible crash as she hit the first big rock. The sea lifted her right up on top of it. With another terrible crash she was over that rock and she hit the shore itself. “Oh, God, I thought that was it, the end of the expedition, the end of Totorore, and the end of me.”

That was Gerry Clark, aged 61, of Kerikeri, talking to his family on one of the many tapes he sent during his journey of 44 months around Antarctica, which ended in 1986.

In a quiet, expressive way he describes on tape the horror of near shipwreck on Marion Island in the South Indian Ocean. Wind howls in the rigging as he speaks. He takes stock of his situation, thanks God for a miraculous escape, has a cup of coffee and considers himself richer for the experience. Marion Island is a long way from his home where he and_his wife, Majorie, live on their organic orchard, overlooking the Stone Store Basin in Northland. How did he get there? The idea arose from discussions with family and friends about the exploitation of Antarctica and the Southern Ocean. His family were enthusiastic supporters from the start.

A concern for the balance of nature, and particularly for sea birds of the Southern Ocean, took Gerry Clark to some of the loneliest and most hazardous places on Earth. Land and sea conditions in the Southern Ocean are so harsh that little ornithological research has been done there. Clark went with the blessing of the International Council for Bird Preservation and the Ornithological Society of New Zealand, among others. Boats and birds are important in Clark’s life. His office looks down through blue gums to the yachts in the Stone Store Basin. On a wall is an oil painting of his previous yacht, Ketiga, next to a map of the world. Among numerous books on birds and Antarctica are sight reduction tables, French and Spanish phrase books, a Bible, Dougal Robertson’s classic “Survive the Savage Sea,” and “Along the Clipper Way,” by Francis Chichester. A keen bird watcher since the age of nine, Gerry Clark believes the study of sea birds and their behaviour is a key to protecting the Antarctic and sub-Antarctic ecosystem. They provide an indication of the quality of the marine environment and are a vital link in the biological chain. The nutrient-rich water of the sub-Antarctic convergence zone supports abundant wildlife, but breeding grounds for birds are limited to the small area of the sub-Antarctic islands. Many islands have been spoiled for birds by the introduction of predators. Some species are threatened.

In a red woollen shirt with a broken zip and elbows poking out, Clark stirs a little uncomfortably at being questioned, but he answers openly and thoughtfully. He is happy to talk about himself and his experiences.

There is no hint of ego-tripping. It was his wife who showed his many press clippings and medals for ocean sailing and research.. What is so special about birds? “Hard to say, I just love birds,” he says. “They’re fascinating, the orderliness of their lives, their grace of movement and freedom. “They’re so beautiful, so much a part of the quality of life. “I wouldn’t care to go to sea if there were no birds to look at. “I never feel alone when there are birds; they’re always around down south.”

Gerry Clark did a lot for the sake of the birds. When conditions became particularly tough, he would say “Strictly for the birds!” and carry on. Did Clark really do all this for their sake? Was there no element of wanting to prove himself against nature or other adventurers? Apparently not. When you go down there, there's nobody to watch, he says. “It’s not a competitive thing. The way I sail, there’s no particular skill in it. I don’t know the finer points of sailing and they don’t particularly interest me. As long as I can get home safe, know where I’m going and get to the places I want to go, I’m quite happy.”

He does admit to a love of adventure, something different from everyday life. “I’m not exactly anti-social, but I do love the places that don’t have a lot of people.” Sailing is a chance to shed the worries of everyday life. It is

also a spiritual experience. Not many people can be at sea for a long time without having some feeling that there must be a God who can see us, he says. Life is less cluttered. There are fewer diversions and you have more time to think about things like that.

Faith, as well as courage and confidence in his ability, led Clark to attempt the trip. He has always had a strong faith in God but says his faith is not quite in line with the thinking of churches. He doesn’t like to go into it too deeply, but says he recognises there is a superior being or force. It is beyond our comprehension but has complete control.

If we do the right things and live the right sort of lives, we can ask for a certain degree of help, he thinks. “I never like to rely on that too much, but I do like to feel that I’m at least in some sort of communication.” He has never tried to clearly define that feeling, and doesn’t think it matters.

Gerry Clark was no stranger to adventure when he began the ornithological research voyage in his 10-metre yacht Totorore in February, 1983. He had previously circumnavigated New Zealand and its subAntarctic islands single-handed. That time it was also for conservation and bird research purposes. He knew the kinds of conditions he would experience and built his yacht to match them.

His crew was chosen for skills in ornithological research, exploration, mountaineering and seamanship. Most of all, Clark wanted them to believe in the conservation ideals behind the project. He speaks highly of the 22 people who sailed with him at different times during the voyage. He knew he could always rely on them, and says that was very important. In his recently-published book,

“The Totorore Voyage,” he writes with frankness of the trials and joys of the Totorore voyage. He details mistakes and errors of judgement he made during the trip, but seldom criticises he crew.

Those people who went with him knew it was not to be a pleasure trip. They would have to work hard, experience discomfort and face danger. Chris Sale, a boat builder from

isolated Te Ngaire Bay in Northland, says he would not have gone if he hadn’t had a “built-in” faith that he was going to come back — although he got the impression that others thought they would never see him again. Only one of the crew did not suffer sea sickness. There were long periods Clark had to sail the boat alone.

As well as gaining basic information about bird numbers, the expedition made important discoveries of the breeding colonies of several species.

The voyage covered all shades of experience from the joy of seeing fearless animals in an untouched environment to the fantastically beautiful — castles of ice under a full moon, mountains, forests and waterfalls — to fear and discomfort.

The worst situation was near Heard Island, when Clark was sailing alone under jury rig. It was the worst storm he had ever experienced. Waves of 35 metres are expected in this area and can reach staggering proportions. Totorore was rolled 360 degrees — she came up facing the opposite direction. That happened twice. Icy water was forced into the cabin, Clark was battered, bruised and bleeding, and the jury rig was ruined. After several days of trying, he could not get Totorore to sail with the twisted mast, so he heaved it all into the sea. Then it all happened again. There was another storm, even worse. Totorore was rolled three times. He likens it to being in a concrete mixer. “Oil from under the engine found its way into every part of the boat. I was soaked, frozen and battered, and in mortal terror of the next roll. I thought

that the blood running down my face did not matter as I was about to die anyway,” he wrote later.

That was the worst part of the voyage. He did not think he had a chance of surviving. He felt ashamed for being there at all and depressed at the thought of not seeing his family again. He was in wet clothes and his sleeping bag was soaked for a month in temperatures little

above freezing. He had to force himself to eat.

It was only the thought of his family that stopped him from stepping over the side and ending it quickly. Having finished his book, Gerry Clark is keen to do more trips with a good cause. But the last voyage drained the family’s resources, and future expeditions will have to be financed.

Experience of spirituality

Rolls while

sailing alone