Head of the Golden Gate Ferry Tells of Father’s Quest to be World’s Oldest Circumnavigator
Captain Clark the elder meets the press
By Captain David Clark
Published: January, 2002
This is a story of events leading up to my father’s attainment of the world record as Oldest Solo Circumnavigator. This is not a description of the actual voyage, but rather my view of the factors that motivated a member of the "Greatest Generation" to seek and meet a monumental challenge.
My father is a character. But his credibility has improved dramatically since he secured the record as the oldest human to sail around the globe in a small boat by himself.
Dad has a dynamic, adventurous spirit. He lives life to the very fullest, at times unaware that he is keeping a pace others might be reluctant to follow. He was born in Alameda in 1924 and he and his family suffered the hardship of the Depression years. In 1936 he was shipped off to La Grande Oregon to live with a wealthy Aunt and Uncle in the hopes that a more comfortable upbringing would be provided. As a privileged youth in La Grande, he was able to pursue avant-garde activities such as skiing, flying, and mountain climbing. It was only natural that in 1943, then 19, he would join the Army’s elite ski troops of the 10th Mountain Division
At that ripe young age, he was sent to the front lines in the Italian Alps. The 10th Mountain Division played a pivotal role in the defeat of Hitler and his evil empire. Dad has never said much about the war and the inhuman experiences he had to endure.
An appreciation of Dad’s upbringing and the World War II experience helps set the stage for the story about how he came to pursue and attain his world record.The indelible experience of the war, combined with the camaraderie of fellow soldiers such as David Brower, instilled in my father an unquenchable thirst for adventure and accomplishment.
My father has been immersed in his quest for the record of Oldest Solo-Circumnavigator for more than 10 years. The recently concluded trip, though successful in the end, was fraught with challenges and setbacks. No one I know has more right to preach "you can do it if you try". But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s first go back a few decades to the beginning of this wild endeavor:
The year is 1971, and I have just graduated from high school in Portland, Oregon. My dad has an ancient Olds ‘98 packed to the brim with a U-Haul trailer. He’s excited about the new life upon which he is embarking now that his oldest child has graduated from high school and freedom is at long last coming into view. My brother lives with us and my other three siblings are with my mother. She has long since told Dad to pack-it, as her patience with the nomadic lifestyle he provided wore thin years ago. Over the past 18 years our family has lived in mountain towns around the country as he turned his wartime ski experience to the management of the nations’ new crop of ski areas.
We lived in every corner of the mountain world, from Oregon to New Hampshire and all points in between including Colorado, New York, Arizona, Utah and even North Carolina. We found and founded ski areas in places most people didn’t even realize there is snow.
Dad, with the family in tow, jumped from one resort to another. He worked as a run cutter and designer, ski school director, slope groomer, eventually rising to General Manager. He knew the best of the best in this unique niche, including those who built such monuments as Aspen, Vail and Sun Valley. He and Warren Miller shared pine floats and cold travel trailers as they projected the image of a dynamic lifestyle onto the psyche of a nation recovering from the deep pain of the war. My father and mother met in Yosemite - he was a rock climbing rescue ranger and Mom was an emergency room nurse who treated some of the accident victims he retrieved from the cliffs around El Capitan. Ansel Adams was a personal friend. My childhood memories are of ice cold alpine lakes, and vertical walls of snow.
But back to 1971. We’re in the packed Olds ’98, steering an out-of-align course for Naples, Florida. Dad had spent the first 50 years of his life in the mountains; he now was determined to spend the next 50 years sailing the oceans of the world. Though my father always told me that "you can do anything you make up your mind to do!!" it has taken most of the past 30 years to fully realize his goal.
He figured out a way to come up with a down payment for a sparkling new 36 foot motor yacht and before long we were trying to raise the sails. The boat didn’t come with a manual so we used the trial and error method of seamanship, a technique I suppose most yachtsmen depend on at some point.
Soon after acquiring the boat we jumpstarted our sailing careers with a a six month trip throughout the Bahamas, Haiti, the Dominican Republic, and Puerto Rico. Over the next few years I went my own direction as Dad continued sailing the Caribbean. For a time, he imported primitive crafts between Florida and Haiti, all the while gaining gained valuable experience. He also improved the quality of his boats by trading up until he owned a very seaworthy 31 foot double-ended cutter rig of stout design and build, which he named Sea Me Now.
In the early ’80s the circumnavigation bug bit him hard. In 1987 he and his wife Lynda set off on the first circumnavigation with little fanfare and lots of chutzpah. This trip was successful and although Lynda was aboard for most of the trip (she held in there as far as New Zealand) Dad completed the voyage alone at the age of 67. My four siblings and I were all there in 1989 as he sailed into Fort Lauderdale at the conclusion of this voyage. We all figured that he had accomplished his goal and a wild and crazy chapter of his life could be closed. Not so.
It wasn’t long after the first circumnavigation that he came up with a scheme to attempt the record as Oldest Solo Circumnavigator. The oldest person on record at the time had been 68 at the completion of the voyage. At that time dad was 68 and he would have been 70 upon his return. In 1993 he left Fort Lauderdale again, this time with the help of a good number of sponsors and a deal with USA Today to write a periodic column describing the adventure.
He made his way south through the Bahamas and then southwest through the Caribbean to the Panama Canal. While in the Panama, a very dangerous place, he was mugged for his watch and wallet and his pants were stolen. Across nearly three complete circumnavigations of the globe this was the only time that he was directly threatened by criminal activity.
The route of this first attempt at the "Oldest Solo" record continued through the South Pacific to Tahiti, the Tuomoto Islands, New Zealand, Australia, Christmas Island and then on to the Indian Ocean. While in Tahiti he was in an elevator when he noticed that the old guy next to him was wearing a pair of running shorts emblazoned with USA Today. Dad proudly announced that he wrote a column for the newspaper and the gentleman responded that he founded USA Today. It turned out to be Al Neuharth, who was kind enough to nominate Dad for the prestigious Free Spirit Award.
In July of 1995, this attempt to secure the world record ended in a tragic and nearly fatal catastrophe in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Gale force winds within a huge deep-sea storm blew seas to 30 feet in height and the backstay of the Sea Me Now parted. This caused the mast to come crashing down and before long the wayward spar was trying to hole the boat as the tumultuous seas turned it into a battering ram attached to the hull by the remaining shrouds. The backstay had served as the antenna for the long range Ham Radio and without the antenna the radio was completely out of commission. Dad had only the short range VHF radio to communicate in the middle of this dark and stormy night far from nowhere. The outlook was bleak indeed. Having no other option, he sent a MayDay out on the short range set, knowing that in those conditions the signal would only reach 15 to 20 miles. At this point his frequently called upon guardian angel came to the rescue because the Captain of a sheep transport ship had just finished his evening prayers and he happened to hear the call for help come across the airwaves. Dad had reported a good position and the Captain steered directly for Sea Me Now’s location where he was able to launch a successful rescue despite the horrific weather conditions.
After he was warmed and comforted by the crew of the ship, Dad called me in the middle of the night to give me the devastating news. I was of course horrified, but thankful beyond words that he was safe and healthy. Though his goal to attain the record was not successful, I was glad that this nerve-wracking adventure was finally behind us. Or so I thought.
Dad returned to the Bay area where he joined Lynda to settle down to what the family figured would be a normal retirement. It wasn’t long before the old man was scratching around the waterfront for another boat. A good candidate was found in a marina in Alameda and the boat was available at a fire sale price. It had been abandoned in dry storage and the shipyard was willing to sell it for $7000 in back storage bills. I went down to survey it with Dad and we agreed that the condition was good for the money. The design was fair and seaworthy and the welded steel hull was of high quality. Though the vessel systems were incomplete the purchase included excellent components ready to be installed. Dad moved the boat to Pittsburgh, CA, named her the Mollie Millar after my grandmother, and over the next couple of years made the boat seaworthy with the help of many Bay Area sponsors.
Resolved to try again for the record, in 1998 he sailed the Mollie Millar from San Francisco to Ft. Lauderdale to shakedown the boat and position for the Solo attempt. On December 5th of 1999, Dad left Fort Lauderdale in an unassuming, low-key ceremony consisting of a few family and friends. We waved goodbye as he sailed under the 17th Street Causeway Bridge. There was a tear in my eye because there was a good chance I might never see him again. Despite my worries, Dad made it safely back to Ft. Lauderdale exactly two years and two days later, arriving on December 7th, 2001, Pearl Harbor Day. He’d done it
More on the voyage and arrival can be found on my web site at www.captainclark.com.
Hailed by fireboats upon arriving in Florida, the world’s oldest circumnavigator
