Simon Gundry sailed on NZ's first round the world boat Ceramco, along with Sir Peter Blake. Photo / Sylvie Whinray
New Zealand’s opening around-the-world yachting salvo over 40 years ago hit the rocks when Peter Blake’s Ceramco lost its mast on the first leg. But that disaster - which probably cost Ceramco victory - has turned into a remarkable triumph of friendship that lives on to this day.
Memories of that venture were revived when sailors from around the globe attended a reunion in Auckland this month to mark 50 years since the first race. The 1981/82 Whitbread, the third around-the-world race, saw a large fleet of 29 boats head out of Southampton. The 21-metre Bruce Farr-designed sloop Ceramco zoomed towards race favouritism under Blake. But the mast broke as it headed towards Cape Town leading to a famous recovery act by an everyman crew, who sailed another 4000 miles with their patched-together jury rig, spending nearly 50 days at sea.
That 12-man ensemble included a heart surgeon, spar maker, tradesmen, a motor company employee, a marine biologist, two school teachers and a lawyer. Blake had carefully curated his crew for this life-changing venture. Indeed, on return, the teachers found they were unable to get their jobs back and others decided on new paths, including full-time sailing-related jobs. One who did go back to his old work ways was Devonport concrete contractor Simon Gundry.
The 72-year-old Gundry, whose business partner is Walter Gill, father of shot put star Jacko Gill, revels in enduring friendships. And his Devonport house has become the ‘spiritual home’ for Ceramco crew and family reunions that take place every year to mark the day the mast broke. Gundry chats about that famous broken-mast day, the aftermath, and the incredible bonds they created.
Looking back on that momentous day…did any of you know how to erect a jury rig?
Nobody had done it before…we pieced things together as we went.
Peter got the team together and we decided sailing to Cape Town was the only option.
Peter came up with the classic line: “If anyone feels disappointed, come and see me and we’ll get disappointed together.”
Don Wright was a good rigger, and we had some good thinkers on the boat. Duct tape, wire…we sat the stump on the cook’s breadboard so it wouldn’t grind away at the deck.
We had about 15 feet of mast still sticking out, with one big messy piece in the water.
We cut and pasted…put 50 feet of mast on the front of the stump, cut sails down because big sails would have put too much pressure, and sailed 4000 miles around the old clipper route, where the big sailing ships went.
What caused the break?
It was new technology - solid rod rigging instead of the old wire strands - not correctly installed. We’d already done eight to 10,000 miles with the mast and it just weakened over time. If we hadn’t dropped our rig we would have won the race easily…unless we broke it somewhere else.
Team unity must have been vital…
We’d had plenty of time to gel. Peter Blake had put us through rigorous bonding sessions before the trek started. The crew was whittled down to 18 candidates and then chopped back to 11. Chris Dickson and Grant Dalton were among those who missed out - Dalton joined (Dutch boat) Flyer which won the race with a bunch of New Zealanders on board.
Peter formed good teams - look at Team New Zealand, winning the America’s Cup.
Team leaders don’t come more legendary than Sir Peter Blake – what was the late, great man’s magic ingredient?
He would be on the bow of the boat, pulling down sails in the middle of the night, not barking from the cockpit. He was just part of the boys - it’s how you hope to live your own life.
He taught me how to lead in my own business - to this day I go to the yard and sweep the floor, clean the toilet, put the toilet paper in.
What was your role on the boat?
Was it a very different sailing world back then?
The modern Volvo races have pit crews - someone else cleans and repairs the boat while the crew flies home. In the early days of the Whitbread, we would sit and fix everything, and it meant you also built friendships with other crews.
The whole race was a blur of fun. People we met, especially the French, are still friends with to this day. We found the French and the Kiwis share a similar sense of humour. We gelled together as people. That’s why four of my kids have French middle names.
You mentioned the wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Di led to a problem just before the race started…
Blakey had given us the weekend off and two of the boys - Geoff Stagg and Owen ‘OC’ Rutter - did get into serious trouble at a bar in Cowes.
A couple of Poms had a crack at them, and you don’t have a crack at OC Rutter….he knocked him through the plate glass window of a fruit shop.
There was a committee of Ceramco underwriters and a couple of them wanted to throw Rutter off the boat, send him home, said he was a disgrace.
Blakey said if Rutter goes home, we all go home. He wasn’t standing for that. Rutter did get fined 1000 pounds.
Staggy wasn’t in so much danger - he’s got the gift of the gab, Staggy.
Before we talk about the incredible and enduring camaraderie…there have been some sad losses including the tragic death of Sir Peter Blake…
OC Rutter called me late one night and said there’s a rumour that Peter is dead…(Gundry shivers as he recalls the moment)
About 30 of us flew to England and I was one of the pallbearers, they chose someone from every campaign.
Keith Chapman died after doing another around-the-world race.
Chappy was my best mate and probably the best seat-of-the-pants sailor I ever sailed with. Incredible.
I’d known him all my life, we’d played rugby together at North Shore…he was way too young, his death really hurt.
Paul von Zalinsky was a big smoker - he died during Covid although not of it.
He was our cook although he wasn’t actually a cook.
Peter Blake said Vonny cooked a wonderful meal on terrible days, and terrible meals on wonderful days. We’d go ‘Vonny…this meal tastes like shit.’ He would say: ‘If you don’t like it you can go somewhere else tomorrow night’ when we were 30 days from port.
There’s an incredible bond amongst those Ceramco sailors…is it like the spirit of old veterans?
Funnily enough, I’ve just read Tom Scott’s book about (war hero) Charles Upham again and I can understand how those WWII vets came back to New Zealand and never felt that adrenaline or comradeship in their lifetime again. But I don’t think it’s the same for us at all - those soldiers went through so much more.
We have never had a cross word between us, we are still great mates, and when we have a get-together the banter and humour are still there. We are the closest of friends. But we were never trapped by it.
That spirit is epitomised by the annual broken mast reunions every September 21…
They say there are fast ships and slow ships but the best ships are friendships. It’s the most important thing to me out of all the years of yachting. A year after the mast broke, we decided on a get-together and it’s just continued. We’ve had some big parties here at my place, with 100 people. (Famed yachting commentator) Peter Montgomery says this is the spiritual home of the mast falling down party. Some other gatherings have been smaller.
Other times?
We see a lot of each other and try to catch up two or three times a year…and always include Peter Montgomery.
Geoff Stagg lives in Annapolis in the States and worked for Farr International for 40 years. He’s retired and I spent a week with him in September - as soon as we got together the banter started.
Trevor Agnew was a lot older than the rest of us. He was brilliant to have around, a great balancer. He took 18 months out of his life to go sailing then came home and led the first heart transplant team in New Zealand. We visit him in his retirement home, have lunch with him.
Richard MacAlister is building a house in the South Island - I just sorted out pumps and concrete for him.
It’s always been like that…we love each other, like brothers. We don’t shake hands, we cuddle, a decent man hug.
What’s the key to long friendships?
You feel honoured…what you don’t want to do is bugger up friendships. Maybe the biggest bugger upper of friendships is money, I think. Be careful about who you get involved with. I still believe a shake of a hand is a deal. That’s the way it is.
We had spent weeks at sea and were in each other’s pockets. It is an incredible community.
To older citizens, the name Ceramco lives on in Kiwi sports lore - where is she now? Is the mast in a museum?
The boat was bought by an Australian couple out of Florida, and is now in the Bundaberg marina, in Queensland.
I’d heard Ceramco might be there so took a trip in 2019 to find her. As soon as I saw the mast I knew it was her - it was quite distinctive. It was fantastic to see it. I don’t think the couple knew the boat’s history – I took them a copy of Alan Sefton’s book Blake’s Odyssey.
The broken mast? I presume it ended up in a Cape Town tip.
Gone but not forgotten…
Whether we would have won the race is the great ‘if only’. Like if only the All Blacks hadn’t had Sam Cane sent off in the World Cup final, or one of those blokes had kicked the goal, or if Stephen Donald had missed that kick, Sir Graham Henry wouldn’t be a Sir.
Maybe we would have met for Ceramco victory parties.
But there’s also this. If we hadn’t broken the mast, you wonder how strong the friendships would be now.
The Mast Falling Down Party was a sad event, but now it is a great time when we see our friends.
Chris Rattue has been a journalist since 1980 and is one of the most respected opinion writers in New Zealand sports journalism.
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