Crane Haul Out Without a Spreader Bar
The local travel lift wasn’t going to work. Paikea’s beam is too wide, so a crane was the only option — which meant more logistics, more preparation, and a slightly higher pucker factor when your home is dangling in a sling thirty feet off the ground.
We had two days of prep before the crane arrived. The mainsail came off first, battens out and labeled so we’d know what went where when it all went back together. Boom off, boom bag off, main halyard cleared from the clutch. Shayne went up the mast to rig a dedicated halyard for the crane to use during mast removal — you want that rigged properly before the crane operator is standing there waiting. The boys were part of all of it. Harry gave a pretty solid debrief to camera at the end of day one about what was done and what still needed doing in the morning, centreboard out, side stays loosened. He had it right.
The crane arrived early. We weren’t quite ready — the water tanks still needed emptying to save weight — but the honest answer is you’re never quite ready for a moment like that. Paikea is our home. Watching her come out of the water on straps is not a casual experience.
The lift happened in two stages. First the mast came out and went onto supports. Then the hull came up, was set temporarily on wooden blocks, the slings were repositioned, and the whole boat went back up just high enough for the forklift to push the cradle underneath. Then down again, straps off the hulls, weight transferred to the wing deck. It sounds straightforward written down. It was considerably more tense in person.
But she came out clean, she sat in the cradle perfectly, and suddenly we had a boat we could actually work on. First job: get the antifouling off and find out what the hulls actually look like underneath.
If you want to go deeper on the Paikea build — the details that don’t make it into the YouTube videos, the rudder work, the mast engineering — that’s what the members’ library is for. Join here.