W
hat is she?” It is a frequent
question from other boats as
they pass by but there’s seldom
time to explain before they are
out of earshot.
The story starts in Guernsey,
which is where my late father, John Sherwill, wrote an
article about Cockleshell for Classic Boat, published in
the August 1990 issue. “Above the harbour of St Peter
Port,” he wrote, “stands Beauregard.” Now a hotel, this
was once the home of local dentist Arthur ‘AJ’ Barber,
also a skilled amateur boat designer and builder. Folklore
has it that his daughter Pat was born on the very day
that AJ completed Cockleshell in April 1926. In 1949
Pat would marry my father John Sherwill, and this
happy union ensured that Cockleshell has remained
within the same family for at least another 65 years.
Family heirlooms are seldom boats, but to remain
cherished a boat has to be useful, fun to sail and
affordable. While Cockleshell ticks each of these boxes,
seaworthiness and performance are other factors in her
survival. Cockleshell was launched in 1926 and a year
later was given a short bowsprit to improve the balance
of her rig, the first of numerous updates to improve her
performance over following decades. Built lighter than
expected, her ballast was increased by 100kg, 60kg in
the deadwood behind the iron keel and 40kg in the bilge.
AJ now had a slippery racer and the perfect dayboat
for fun sailing with family and friends. But in 1940 the
German Occupation put all that on hold and Cockleshell
was laid up. Despite shrapnel wounds from a British
bombing raid and the loss of mast, teak gratings and
other gear, she came through the five years unscathed
and was in commission by the time the yacht Dyarchy
visited St Peter Port in 1946. Owner Roger Pinckney had
a broken tooth that AJ extracted for him and later was
taken for some ‘rock hopping’ aboard Cockleshell. The
story is told in the 1946 Royal Cruising Club Journal.
After AJ’s unexpected death in 1952, John Sherwill
raced the boat through the mid 1950s, “sometimes
asking an awful lot of her” as he commented in the
Classic Boat article. The first Guernsey Round the Island
Race of 1955 was typical. With only six entries it turned
into a nine-hour epic of wind, overfalls and foul tide.“Conditions were bad at times,” reported the Guernsey
press but Cockleshell pressed on, finishing third behind
Arthur Vaudin’s bermudan cutter Kittiwake and Bill
Davis’ 5-tonner Kenetha. The Round Jersey Race the
same year proved less welcoming. Cockleshell won on
handicap but was disqualified after a protest for not
being ‘of cabin cruiser class’, a controversial outcome in
view of the fact that their entry had been accepted.
So for 1956 John built a cabin top to fit over the
cockpit coaming and the extra spray protection may
have saved the boat and skipper on Guernsey’s
Liberation Day. Caught in a rising south-westerly blow
homeward bound on a singlehanded trip round Sark, he
reached the shelter of Herm’s eastern shore. Cold and
wet, he dropped anchor and pumped out, oblivious that
a search was already underway in the failing light, before
setting off again through the Percee Passage for home.
In 1957 John and Pat (with their two-year-son)
moved to England and AJ’s widow Winnie offered them
the boat. The response was a predictable ‘yes’, the only
issue being how to get her to her new East Coast home.
The solution was obvious – sail her over in the one week
of vacation that John still had available. His crew was a
20-year-old RAF cadet, Ben Johnston.
On 1 August 1959 Cockleshell sailed for East Anglia.
It was to be a 325-mile journey, port-hopping initially up
the French coast with six overnight stops.
In a week of high pressure and with no engine, it was
a notable achievement, underlining the boat’s light airs
ability. She was on her own with no ship’s radio, no
echo-sounder, no log, no RDF, probably lifejackets and
flares, a torch, certainly charts for navigation, plus food,
drink and a primus stove. Navigation was by DR and to
check the heading an old naval compass in a box was
brought on deck! Attitudes to safety and responsibility
have changed a lot in the half-century since, but for John
Sherwill it was just another challenge to be enjoyed.
The trip culminated in a 24-hour passage from Dover
to Orford across the Thames Estuary on a moonless
night. Without engine or navigation lights they shone a
torch onto the sails to warn oncoming ships and at one
point foul tide and no wind saw them perilously close to
sandbanks. Rescued by a light breeze they arrived at the
Orford River entrance early on 8 August and hove-to forAJ Barber:
designer, builder
and first owner of
PHOTO ON FACING PAGE: JOE M CockleshellCCARTHYJOE MCCARTHY“
COCKLESHELL COLLECTION