Gareth Cooke

Spirited away

Thousands of young New Zealanders have been tested by the indiscriminate justice of the elements on board the Spirit of New Zealand. Gareth Cooke braces himself against one of the worst storms of the decade to record the voyage of 40 young trainees on the greatest test of their lives.

Written by       Photographed by Gareth Cooke

Learning the ropes takes on literal meaning for a batch of trainees (opposite). A steep fall in hectoPascals on the shipboard barometer (above) presages a dramatic weather event bearing down on the ship. Although it is rare, extreme weather is unavoidable—the Spirit of New Zealand is in operation 340 days a year, making it one of the busiest sail-training vessels in the world.
Learning the ropes takes on literal meaning for a batch of trainees (opposite). A steep fall in hectoPascals on the shipboard barometer (above) presages a dramatic weather event bearing down on the ship. Although it is rare, extreme weather is unavoidable—the Spirit of New Zealand is in operation 340 days a year, making it one of the busiest sail-training vessels in the world.
Unusually, on Voyage 530 the greater challenge lay with the ship’s crew rather than the trainees. As the storm raged for 30 hours, crew not only had the ship’s safety to think of but also the entertainment of the 40 trainees below decks. At such times, the Spirit’s auditorium becomes a vital cog in the operation of the ship and energy is channelled towards team-building exercises, performances and navigation and safety lessons. For some, the challenge of accepting leadership in a team-building exercise or talking in front of a group of their peers can be as daunting as any physical challenges.
Unusually, on Voyage 530 the greater challenge lay with the ship’s crew rather than the trainees. As the storm raged for 30 hours, crew not only had the ship’s safety to think of but also the entertainment of the 40 trainees below decks. At such times, the Spirit’s auditorium becomes a vital cog in the operation of the ship and energy is channelled towards team-building exercises, performances and navigation and safety lessons. For some, the challenge of accepting leadership in a team-building exercise or talking in front of a group of their peers can be as daunting as any physical
challenges.
Her appearance may evoke images of old sailing ships, bearded seamen and barrels of rum, but the Spirit of New Zealand is a modern ship. Launched in 1986, she is purpose-built as a barquantine-rigged sail training vessel, and constructed out of steel. Behind the traditional veneer are modern navigational aids such as radar, GPS and chart plotters, and she is equipped with bow thrusters—features unheard of when ships built along similar lines plied their trade a century ago. Her 33m hull contains accommodation for 40 trainees, including an auditorium at the stern for lectures. In form and function she remains true to traditions, but the materials are modern. The mast is constructed out of steel tubes rather than wood, and though the yardarms and gaffs are made of Douglas fir, the sails that are set beneath are made of hard-wearing polyester rather than cotton. Sail handling, however, is still labour-intensive and depends on muscle power and teamwork—the latter is particularly crucial to the success of the programme.
Her appearance may evoke images of old sailing ships, bearded seamen and barrels of rum, but the Spirit of New Zealand is a modern ship. Launched in 1986, she is purpose-built as a barquantine-rigged sail training vessel, and constructed out of steel. Behind the traditional veneer are modern navigational aids such as radar, GPS and chart plotters, and she is equipped with bow thrusters—features unheard of when ships built along similar lines plied their trade a century ago. Her 33m hull contains accommodation for 40 trainees, including an auditorium at the stern for lectures. In form and function she remains true to traditions, but the materials are modern. The mast is constructed out of steel tubes rather than wood, and though the yardarms and gaffs are made of Douglas fir, the sails that are set beneath are made of hard-wearing polyester rather than cotton. Sail handling, however, is still labour-intensive and depends on muscle power and teamwork—the latter is particularly crucial to the success of the programme.
In the 37 years the Spirit of Adventure Trust has been in operation, its objectives have changed little. “We want them [trainees] to learn about their abilities and not their inabilities,” explains CEO John Lister. Some 76,000 young people have so far passed through the scheme, which received international recognition in 2008 when it was awarded the title of Sail Training Organisation of the Year. In 2004, the trust entered into an agreement with the Sir Peter Blake Trust for trainees on each 10-day voyage to spend part of their time on shore cleaning beaches. “We want them to understand the planet and why we have to clean it up and look after it,” says Lister. Adds Spirit of New Zealand mate Gerard Prendeville: “Years ago, most teen-agers accepted drinking and driving. Now most of them find it totally unacceptable and won’t have a bar of it. We want to try and do the same thing with polluting the environment and show them that one person can make a difference.”

One of the worst winter storms in a decade is at the peak of its fury. Like a thug, it picks on the unsuspecting or unprepared as winds topping 80 knots leave a devastating trail.

On board the Spirit of New Zealand in Vivian Bay, Kawau Island, crew members combat the storm. The two anchors laid out the previous night in anticipation of the tempest have become entangled and threaten to release their hold. A rocky outcrop to leeward leaves only a small margin for error. Meanwhile, 40 young trainees who are eating their breakfast in the ship’s auditorium are blissfully unaware of the delicate operation going on above deck.

Although avoiding accidents is the over-riding priority on board the Spirit of New Zealand, averting risk is not. John Lister, CEO of the Spirit of Adventure Trust, which runs the vessel, believes the risk factor cannot be diluted. “The risk is what makes the experience what it is,” he says. “We hope they learn more about themselves in this environment than they otherwise would.”

A 20-metre climb up the rigging above a rolling ship takes trainees well outside their comfort zones. So does the responsibility of a night watch where the ship’s safety rests largely on their shoulders. Lister believes it is about managing the perceived risk, and points to the trust’s impeccable safety record as proof it strikes the right balance.

Spirit mate Gerard Prendeville says: “I like to feel we can make a difference to trainees’ lives and that they take something away from their voyage that will be with them forever. Some of the stuff they have to do on the Spirit really opens their eyes to what they can achieve and what they are truly capable of.”

Trainees are obliged to leave behind a number of home comforts, such as cellphones and MP3 players, both of which are banned for the duration of the voyage. Lister explains that this is not only because they are a distraction, but also because it prevents parents calling up to check how everything is.

Prendeville says the backgrounds of the trainees are diverse. “We would not want 40 head prefects on board. Ideally we’d have one head prefect, one from the bottom of the class, and everything in between.” It is hoped that by the time the cellphones are handed back, trainees share more than just phone numbers.

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