Wednesday, 26th August was a day of strong winds, at times reaching near gale force 8, as forecast. For ‘Faith’ this meant being on anchor at her ‘acquired’ spot. The ground was good for holding, since it was thick black mud. Transits showed the boat was secure.
I never cease to be amazed at human activity because of audaciousness or because of ignorance or foolishness on the part of the doer. Without being judgemental or having a sense of superiority I wonder if a few people are plain obdurate. An example of such a person, who incidentally may be reading this, decided he would launch his Avon Redstart pneumatic dinghy and row it to his craft at a mooring. There was a near gale. As he held the inflatable at arm’s length it waved around in the air like a kite. When he reached the water’s edge without taking off he realised he did not have the oars. It dawned on him that he could not leave the dinghy on the pebbly beach because it would be whipped away with the wind. Unable to find a means of securing the dinghy he carried it back up the beach to the slipway where he grabbed his oars. Like a cartoon character he repeated the journey to the water’s edge and by leaning into the wind he managed not to be blown along the beach. With force and determination he restrained the dinghy so that it floated in shallow water then smartly jumped into it, whereupon the dinghy was immediately blown onto the beach. Embarking from the dinghy, he waded into deeper water, jumped aboard and rowed like a madman with no success at making headway, again ending up on the beach. Undaunted he repeated the exercise so as to be blown back to the beach. Only then, did he acknowledge defeat, retreating with his head hung low as the dinghy gyrated in the air at arm’s length.
While at anchor, time passed surprisingly quickly because there was always free entertainment especially provided by the Activities Centre. First thing in the morning instead of sailing their dinghies the youngsters were ushered into open canoes that had been lashed together in pairs. They paddled with all their might to stay in the upper reaches of the Bosham Channel. After morning break they were taken in the ribs by their instructors to explore other parts of Chichester Harbour. Each person wore a lifejacket. On returning, one of the ribs was towed by another; presumably the engine of the one being towed had failed. After lunch the wind had moderated, although still rather boisterous with intermittent squalls. The trainees were out sailing the Bosun dinghies, the Picos and the Lazers.
When the dinghies sailed to the northern end of the Chichester Channel where the wind was less strong because of the lee provided by Cobnor Point I turned with some difficulty to reading ‘Survive the Savage Sea’ because I had to use the magnifying glass. While engrossed with the incredible account I made use of the strong wind by drying one of my sweaters.
At mid afternoon I observed an adoration party gathered around Al’s ‘Little Jim’, which was always a source of wonderment for passers-by. I take my hat off to him because of his exuberant enthusiasm. Had it not been for him I would never have built ‘Faith’. He kindly let me visit his home twice and sail his boat twice, besides giving me plenty of advice and help while building my Paradox.
Late afternoon Cliff returned from sailing his heavily reefed Mirror dinghy. He approached the beach with much forethought, first making his way well to windward before lowering sail; then as the boat drifted downwind he used the rudder to edge across the incoming tide so as to nudge the bow on the beach at the very moment of raising the rudder, the daggerboard having already been removed.
The evening meal over, I listened to music on Radio 3 while I read more of the Robertson family’s epic survival in the Pacific ocean adrift in their dinghy after abandoning their worn-out life raft. The sky being heavily covered with cloud, darkness came early before I made a non-alcoholic nightcap and turned in with hopes for a sail the next day.
Monday, September 03, 2007
Sunday, September 02, 2007
Cobnor (Day Five)
Approximately three hours after high water ‘Faith’ took the hard at the Cobnor slipway; it was 0810 on a grey morning of Tuesday, 21st August. I had listened to the forecast that predicted winds from the North, occasionally reaching force 7. One or two of the DCA folk made an appearance at the slipway, but the general opinion was that not many would venture out on the water. Some had decided they would return home with their boats, as the weather was not improving according the Meteorological Office’s expectations at the weekend. Phil was one of those. His beautiful green Ness Yawl (that wasn’t a yawl) was already on her trailer, but he had time to spare before taking to the road. I told him of my shortage of food and that I would need to find a grocer’s shop, whereupon he volunteered to take me in his luxurious campervan to the enormous Tesco Supermarket at Christchurch.
Only a stone’s throw from the quiet backwater we were cautiously proceeding along country lanes and all of a sudden at a roundabout we found ourselves amongst congested traffic of a main road where drivers were bent of getting from ‘A’ to ‘B’ as fast as they could. None of them appeared to have any patience whatsoever. Cars and lorries screeched around the roundabout and no one wanted to give way. I found the contrast of being with patient boaters happy to pass the time of day until the arrival of better weather was quite a shock. We had left Keith and Al in their private worlds aboard their tiny boats quietly attending to their affairs until the return of the tide by nature’s rhythmic force.
At the ginormous supermarket Phil and I entered such a different world – one most perplexing by the diverse choice of goods stacked on the shelves and a completely man-made environment. I was in a daze unable to remember what I really needed for re-provisioning ‘Faith’ for the next four to six days. I was uncertain how long I would continue the cruise at Christchurch, but it would depend on the weather and how I felt. Vegetables, fruit, bread, drink and tinned meat; these I knew I would have to buy. Paper towels and batteries for the miniature torch I completely forgot. Toilet paper I had. Not until I returned to my boat did I remember I should have looked for a stand containing reading glasses to replace the ones I had lost when I fell off the boat. Because of my obvious uncertainty of what was really needed I sensed Phil was guiding me in my choices and I appreciated his knowledge gained through shopping expeditions in the normal course of his life, since this was his usual role when he went shopping with his wife. (Not that I was a substitute for his partner!)
Back at the campsite, and laden with plastic bags full of goodies, Phil gave me a hand with them to the muddy beach where I squelched to ‘Faith’ for off-loading them to her decks until I could find places for each item. On a boat there’s a place reserved for everything, but first I had to lift myself onto the deck without leaving black mud everywhere and experience had taught me to have a bucket of clean water kept for the purpose of sponging off the filthy stuff. I actually use a stiff brush for this necessary task while taking care not to splatter the deck with specks of mud. When the footwear has been cleaned I leave it so that the soles face uppermost to dry; in the case of Wellington boots, they are left on their sides.
By 1130 ‘Faith’ was back at her favourite anchorage overlooking the slipway. The wind blew strongly from the north against the incoming tide which had the tendency to swing my boat from one side to the other, but not a great strain was placed on the anchor and cable because the forces of wind and tide counteracted each other. Lots of people had decided to walk the river banks; there was one family however occupying a bench seat at the head of the slipway. They had two boys aged about 11 and 9. The smaller and younger of the two started playing at the water’s edge, and as he did so he began to be soaked by the breaking waves; then he waded deeper into the water only to be joined with his brother. Not to be outdone, the smaller boy, although wearing his ordinary clothes waded further until he found himself swimming. Only then did their parents have any concern for him. His mother ran down the slipway calling for the swimmer to return to the shore. Reluctantly he obeyed his mum, but when back in shallow water he used his hands to spray his brother. The bigger lad responded by going after the perpetrator until he also became waterlogged. Both lads seemed not to be affected by the cold wind and chill factor because of their wet attire. They continued messing around on the beach, each in turn throwing stones towards moored boats, not to hit them, but simply to try splashing them.
I remained at the anchorage all day while being thoroughly entertained by many young sailors learning their skills under the tuition of the nearby Sailing Centre. On occasions I was concerned about their closeness when sailing over ‘Faith’s’ anchor line. Their tutors did not seem to realise how close to the surface the rope was, because of the pull of the current. Unlike chain used with the nearby moorings for yachts, the anchor rope skimmed the surface for several feet before being pulled down by the influence of the chain and anchor. I took the opportunity of using the strong wind to dry my anorak and swimming costume by hanging them from the lazy jack. As there was little else to do I thoroughly cleaned the interior of the boat and rearranged a few items. I also became better acquainted with my VHF set by testing different functions.
By 1800 the meteorologist’s promised drizzle forced me to retrieve my anorak and swimming costume while they were dry, and to close the hatch. I had already eaten the main meal of the day, so I made myself comfortable by setting up the mattress and preparing myself for a long night’s rest, but before closing my eyes I used the navigation magnifying glass to read two more chapters of ‘Survive the Savage Sea’. Finally, after listening to the radio I snuggled down into the warmth of my sleeping bag. The wind had died away and there was a welcome silence after the cessation of the constant drumming of halyards on metal masts of nearby yachts. I contentedly fell asleep.
Only a stone’s throw from the quiet backwater we were cautiously proceeding along country lanes and all of a sudden at a roundabout we found ourselves amongst congested traffic of a main road where drivers were bent of getting from ‘A’ to ‘B’ as fast as they could. None of them appeared to have any patience whatsoever. Cars and lorries screeched around the roundabout and no one wanted to give way. I found the contrast of being with patient boaters happy to pass the time of day until the arrival of better weather was quite a shock. We had left Keith and Al in their private worlds aboard their tiny boats quietly attending to their affairs until the return of the tide by nature’s rhythmic force.
At the ginormous supermarket Phil and I entered such a different world – one most perplexing by the diverse choice of goods stacked on the shelves and a completely man-made environment. I was in a daze unable to remember what I really needed for re-provisioning ‘Faith’ for the next four to six days. I was uncertain how long I would continue the cruise at Christchurch, but it would depend on the weather and how I felt. Vegetables, fruit, bread, drink and tinned meat; these I knew I would have to buy. Paper towels and batteries for the miniature torch I completely forgot. Toilet paper I had. Not until I returned to my boat did I remember I should have looked for a stand containing reading glasses to replace the ones I had lost when I fell off the boat. Because of my obvious uncertainty of what was really needed I sensed Phil was guiding me in my choices and I appreciated his knowledge gained through shopping expeditions in the normal course of his life, since this was his usual role when he went shopping with his wife. (Not that I was a substitute for his partner!)
Back at the campsite, and laden with plastic bags full of goodies, Phil gave me a hand with them to the muddy beach where I squelched to ‘Faith’ for off-loading them to her decks until I could find places for each item. On a boat there’s a place reserved for everything, but first I had to lift myself onto the deck without leaving black mud everywhere and experience had taught me to have a bucket of clean water kept for the purpose of sponging off the filthy stuff. I actually use a stiff brush for this necessary task while taking care not to splatter the deck with specks of mud. When the footwear has been cleaned I leave it so that the soles face uppermost to dry; in the case of Wellington boots, they are left on their sides.
By 1130 ‘Faith’ was back at her favourite anchorage overlooking the slipway. The wind blew strongly from the north against the incoming tide which had the tendency to swing my boat from one side to the other, but not a great strain was placed on the anchor and cable because the forces of wind and tide counteracted each other. Lots of people had decided to walk the river banks; there was one family however occupying a bench seat at the head of the slipway. They had two boys aged about 11 and 9. The smaller and younger of the two started playing at the water’s edge, and as he did so he began to be soaked by the breaking waves; then he waded deeper into the water only to be joined with his brother. Not to be outdone, the smaller boy, although wearing his ordinary clothes waded further until he found himself swimming. Only then did their parents have any concern for him. His mother ran down the slipway calling for the swimmer to return to the shore. Reluctantly he obeyed his mum, but when back in shallow water he used his hands to spray his brother. The bigger lad responded by going after the perpetrator until he also became waterlogged. Both lads seemed not to be affected by the cold wind and chill factor because of their wet attire. They continued messing around on the beach, each in turn throwing stones towards moored boats, not to hit them, but simply to try splashing them.
I remained at the anchorage all day while being thoroughly entertained by many young sailors learning their skills under the tuition of the nearby Sailing Centre. On occasions I was concerned about their closeness when sailing over ‘Faith’s’ anchor line. Their tutors did not seem to realise how close to the surface the rope was, because of the pull of the current. Unlike chain used with the nearby moorings for yachts, the anchor rope skimmed the surface for several feet before being pulled down by the influence of the chain and anchor. I took the opportunity of using the strong wind to dry my anorak and swimming costume by hanging them from the lazy jack. As there was little else to do I thoroughly cleaned the interior of the boat and rearranged a few items. I also became better acquainted with my VHF set by testing different functions.
By 1800 the meteorologist’s promised drizzle forced me to retrieve my anorak and swimming costume while they were dry, and to close the hatch. I had already eaten the main meal of the day, so I made myself comfortable by setting up the mattress and preparing myself for a long night’s rest, but before closing my eyes I used the navigation magnifying glass to read two more chapters of ‘Survive the Savage Sea’. Finally, after listening to the radio I snuggled down into the warmth of my sleeping bag. The wind had died away and there was a welcome silence after the cessation of the constant drumming of halyards on metal masts of nearby yachts. I contentedly fell asleep.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Cobnor (Day Four)
The early morning forecast, breakfast and ablutions having been completed I took up the anchor and paddled ‘Faith’ to the beach by the slipway. It was 0800, an hour and a half before low water on Monday, 20th August. Peter Moore was the keenest of the DCA bunch because he was the first to launch his boat, which was an immaculate fibreglass Wafarer. In fact, I think he was renting a cottage with his family, rather than camping under canvas with the crowd. Coincidentally he had booked in advance without realising there would be a DCA gathering. By mid morning several Members were ready for the off. I met Geoff, a recent convert to cruising who owned a Tideway dinghy and I introduced myself to Ian who was a keen photographer of the old school. His camera was state of the art, about 20 years ago, with a huge telescopic lens. He confided that he only did ‘real’ photography with actual film. Digital cameras did not appeal to him.
After mid-day lunch I set off in pursuit of those who had already started. The plan was to sail to Emsworth and return. Being a Monday I didn’t expect to find a dinghy racing fleet, complete with a posh motor yacht and canon at the start line. I was pleased ‘Faith’ was on the starboard tack because it gave her right of way through the fleet as they positioned themselves for the start. Al in ‘Little Jim’, Liz with her Cormorant, Doug in Houdini and Phil with his Ness Yawl (which wasn’t a yawl, because it lacked a mizzen) followed behind. I stuck to the deepwater channel, not wanting to take a risk a grounding, even though the tide was flooding. A mile south of Emsworth Yacht Harbour there were many moored yachts with only a narrow passage between them and I didn’t fancy tacking ‘Faith’ through the trots; therefore I turned around and headed back for Cobnor. There was a good force 4 from the north which enabled my little boat to ‘fly’ southwards towards East Head. The sun made a welcome appearance and the sailing was great fun.
Just as the tide was on the turn for the ebb I sailed towards the Cobnor beach near the slipway and prepared to anchor, but the wind and current drifted ‘Faith’ away from where I wanted to drop the hook. I tried using the yuloh, but the wind caught her bow and set us towards the walled bank, so I tried paddling from the foredeck and immediately fell into the water! I had forgotten to put on my buoyancy aid which meant I was floundering because I was wearing two sweaters and an anorak. Fortunately I was able to hold onto the boat and make my way to her stern where, with an enormous effort, I managed to hoist myself aboard by using the boarding step built into the rudder stock. I was surprised by the weight of the water that had soaked into my sweaters and anorak and I was even more surprised to discover how difficult it was to lever myself out of the water.
That evening I beached the boat and used the washroom to flush my soaked clothes with fresh water. Before dusk I walked along the muddy beach by the retaining wall and found my peaked cap and plastic shoe, both of which had parted from me when I took a ducking. Unfortunately I did not find my old pair of spectacles I had been wearing at the time of the incident; they too had flown into the water. That meant from thereon I had to use a large magnifying glass to read and see details on the chart.
After mid-day lunch I set off in pursuit of those who had already started. The plan was to sail to Emsworth and return. Being a Monday I didn’t expect to find a dinghy racing fleet, complete with a posh motor yacht and canon at the start line. I was pleased ‘Faith’ was on the starboard tack because it gave her right of way through the fleet as they positioned themselves for the start. Al in ‘Little Jim’, Liz with her Cormorant, Doug in Houdini and Phil with his Ness Yawl (which wasn’t a yawl, because it lacked a mizzen) followed behind. I stuck to the deepwater channel, not wanting to take a risk a grounding, even though the tide was flooding. A mile south of Emsworth Yacht Harbour there were many moored yachts with only a narrow passage between them and I didn’t fancy tacking ‘Faith’ through the trots; therefore I turned around and headed back for Cobnor. There was a good force 4 from the north which enabled my little boat to ‘fly’ southwards towards East Head. The sun made a welcome appearance and the sailing was great fun.
Just as the tide was on the turn for the ebb I sailed towards the Cobnor beach near the slipway and prepared to anchor, but the wind and current drifted ‘Faith’ away from where I wanted to drop the hook. I tried using the yuloh, but the wind caught her bow and set us towards the walled bank, so I tried paddling from the foredeck and immediately fell into the water! I had forgotten to put on my buoyancy aid which meant I was floundering because I was wearing two sweaters and an anorak. Fortunately I was able to hold onto the boat and make my way to her stern where, with an enormous effort, I managed to hoist myself aboard by using the boarding step built into the rudder stock. I was surprised by the weight of the water that had soaked into my sweaters and anorak and I was even more surprised to discover how difficult it was to lever myself out of the water.
That evening I beached the boat and used the washroom to flush my soaked clothes with fresh water. Before dusk I walked along the muddy beach by the retaining wall and found my peaked cap and plastic shoe, both of which had parted from me when I took a ducking. Unfortunately I did not find my old pair of spectacles I had been wearing at the time of the incident; they too had flown into the water. That meant from thereon I had to use a large magnifying glass to read and see details on the chart.
Cobnor (Day Three)
There wasn’t much wind early on the morning of Sunday, 19th August as the tide turned on the flood. The forecast was for a North Westerly between 5 and 6 with occasional rain and drizzle. I had moved the boat into deeper water at 0200 to avoid taking the ground. Without wind there was little prospect of a sail; therefore at 1100 I beached ‘Faith’ near the slipway so that I would be able to meet the DCA contingent at the campsite. After having met Phil, Doug, Chris, John and Josephine and seeing their boats I returned to anchor ‘Faith’ near the moored yachts. John and Josephine were on their way home after attending a Hostelers’ Club cruise on the East Coast. They are an unassuming couple who have sailed their open day sailer across the English Channel several times. Chris owns a West Wight Potter, but had brought his Mirage canoe instead. Doug had his beautiful ‘Houdini’ designed by John Welsford, and Phil was the owner of a home-built Ian Oughtred Ness Yawl, without a mizzen. All of these fine boats have character like their owners.
At mid-afternoon I made sail, the wind being a light north westerly. An hour of so later found us off the sailing club mid way along the Thorney Channel, and by teatime we were back at Cobnor after a pleasant, but short exploration of the locality – at the time there had been a small fleet of Tideway dinghies either racing or cruising the same waters. ‘Faith’ matched their performance when on the reach, but they did marginally better to windward. Al, Doug and Liz returned to the slipway, just as drizzle set in, but this did not curtail their conversation as they attended to their boats - Doug and Al anchoring theirs, while Liz retrieved hers on the road trailer.
Bob drew alongside in his Mirror, ‘Tarka Too’, to explain he had lost his rudder after the tiller had snapped and I couldn’t think how this had happened since the wind had not been all that strong. (I learned that he found the rudder the next day at East Head where it had drifted ashore.) All credit to Bob, since he had managed to get back to Cobnor without his rudder. He found steering the boat with an oar only partially successful.
That evening I started reading ‘Survive the Savage Sea’ by Dougal Robertson. This is a story of a remarkable survival marathon in the Pacific Ocean to the west of the Galapagos Islands after their old wooden yacht had been attacked by killer whales. Before dusk the rain came down like a continuous waterfall and I was pleased I was not under canvas as were most of the DCA contingent at the campsite. Keith Holdsworth, in his very tiny ‘Flying Pig’ was surviving under his boom tent. The Vodfone telephone signal was very good so that I was able to send text messages and have my mobile phone on from 2100 to 2115 for communication with the ‘outside world’. I always look forward to speaking with my wife by phone at least once a day while on a cruise. Friends and relatives know that it is my custom to have the phone on at that time and no other, to conserve the battery that I am unable to charge when I’m cruising ‘Faith’.
My daily routine is to wake up with the sun, and go to bed when it sets. Around 2100 there was no longer daylight – it was time to slumber and hopefully sleep until dawn on Monday morning.
At mid-afternoon I made sail, the wind being a light north westerly. An hour of so later found us off the sailing club mid way along the Thorney Channel, and by teatime we were back at Cobnor after a pleasant, but short exploration of the locality – at the time there had been a small fleet of Tideway dinghies either racing or cruising the same waters. ‘Faith’ matched their performance when on the reach, but they did marginally better to windward. Al, Doug and Liz returned to the slipway, just as drizzle set in, but this did not curtail their conversation as they attended to their boats - Doug and Al anchoring theirs, while Liz retrieved hers on the road trailer.
Bob drew alongside in his Mirror, ‘Tarka Too’, to explain he had lost his rudder after the tiller had snapped and I couldn’t think how this had happened since the wind had not been all that strong. (I learned that he found the rudder the next day at East Head where it had drifted ashore.) All credit to Bob, since he had managed to get back to Cobnor without his rudder. He found steering the boat with an oar only partially successful.
That evening I started reading ‘Survive the Savage Sea’ by Dougal Robertson. This is a story of a remarkable survival marathon in the Pacific Ocean to the west of the Galapagos Islands after their old wooden yacht had been attacked by killer whales. Before dusk the rain came down like a continuous waterfall and I was pleased I was not under canvas as were most of the DCA contingent at the campsite. Keith Holdsworth, in his very tiny ‘Flying Pig’ was surviving under his boom tent. The Vodfone telephone signal was very good so that I was able to send text messages and have my mobile phone on from 2100 to 2115 for communication with the ‘outside world’. I always look forward to speaking with my wife by phone at least once a day while on a cruise. Friends and relatives know that it is my custom to have the phone on at that time and no other, to conserve the battery that I am unable to charge when I’m cruising ‘Faith’.
My daily routine is to wake up with the sun, and go to bed when it sets. Around 2100 there was no longer daylight – it was time to slumber and hopefully sleep until dawn on Monday morning.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Cobnor (Day Two)
I woke after a fitful night to hear an uninspiring early morning forecast predicting winds between force 5 and 7 from the North West accompanied with rain or drizzle. I had not expected Saturday the 18th to be up to much and I was prepared to sit it out with the prospect of the weather gradually improving from Sunday onwards – or so the long-range forecast indicated.
After a late breakfast I was pleasantly surprised to find Al in his Paradox, ‘Little Jim’ anchoring alongside. He had launched at Northney Marina at the northern end of Hayling Island late on Friday afternoon before spending the night at anchor in the shallow inlet at East Head. Al and I had had a good cruise in company the previous month when we sailed from Falmouth to Exmouth. The prospect of sailing together again was uplifting. As we whiled away the time at anchor I amused myself by watching all sorts of activity on the water. While there was comparative quiet before the DCA contingent arrived with their dinghies I watched a Curlew patiently wading along the waterline in search of food as the water gradually rose over the dark muddy bank. The same cormorant I saw yesterday was perched on his favourite lookout post, a stained port hand beacon.
Liz Baker, a respected and longstanding member of the DCA appeared on the concrete slipway, but there was no sign of her much loved Cormorant dinghy. I guessed it was at the campsite some way along the narrow road leading to the pebbly beach and slipway. Al had beached his boat and was chatting with Liz. A familiar figure joined them as he pulled a bright yellow canoe behind him on a trolley. Within a few minutes Chris Jenkins was demonstrating to me how well his Hobie Mirage foot peddled canoe performed. He had stowed the trolley behind him and was ready for a preliminary recce of Ichenor Reach. I was impressed with the ease with which he could make excellent progress against the incoming tide. Four members of the DCA launched their dinghies and set off in pursuit or to do their own thing. There was a Wayfarer and a couple of Mirror dinghies, one belonging to an intrepid fellow known as Cliff. He had twin polystyrene floats attached to the peak of the yard and single fenders either side of his boat. I assume this arrangement prevents a full capsize and facilitates righting the boat.
At mid afternoon the rain came down in earnest and I took cover under the closed hatch of ‘Faith’ to watch numerous dinghies being sailed by youngsters under the auspices of the Cobnor Christian Activities Centre. These people seemed fearless and completely oblivious of the rain. They revelled in the gusty conditions while being shepherded by vigilant young men racing around in fast ribs; when a dinghy headed towards a moored yacht one of these ribs expertly intervened to prevent a collision. The Centre has a variety of dinghies, but learners are first placed in Bosun dinghies. When they are more proficient they are allowed to try their hand at Picos and Lazers. I saw a Pico being towed back to the Centre after its mast had broken in two.
I didn’t do any sailing on Saturday, but I was most marvellously entertained by all those who took to the water and I enjoyed good food and welcome relaxation.
After a late breakfast I was pleasantly surprised to find Al in his Paradox, ‘Little Jim’ anchoring alongside. He had launched at Northney Marina at the northern end of Hayling Island late on Friday afternoon before spending the night at anchor in the shallow inlet at East Head. Al and I had had a good cruise in company the previous month when we sailed from Falmouth to Exmouth. The prospect of sailing together again was uplifting. As we whiled away the time at anchor I amused myself by watching all sorts of activity on the water. While there was comparative quiet before the DCA contingent arrived with their dinghies I watched a Curlew patiently wading along the waterline in search of food as the water gradually rose over the dark muddy bank. The same cormorant I saw yesterday was perched on his favourite lookout post, a stained port hand beacon.
Liz Baker, a respected and longstanding member of the DCA appeared on the concrete slipway, but there was no sign of her much loved Cormorant dinghy. I guessed it was at the campsite some way along the narrow road leading to the pebbly beach and slipway. Al had beached his boat and was chatting with Liz. A familiar figure joined them as he pulled a bright yellow canoe behind him on a trolley. Within a few minutes Chris Jenkins was demonstrating to me how well his Hobie Mirage foot peddled canoe performed. He had stowed the trolley behind him and was ready for a preliminary recce of Ichenor Reach. I was impressed with the ease with which he could make excellent progress against the incoming tide. Four members of the DCA launched their dinghies and set off in pursuit or to do their own thing. There was a Wayfarer and a couple of Mirror dinghies, one belonging to an intrepid fellow known as Cliff. He had twin polystyrene floats attached to the peak of the yard and single fenders either side of his boat. I assume this arrangement prevents a full capsize and facilitates righting the boat.
At mid afternoon the rain came down in earnest and I took cover under the closed hatch of ‘Faith’ to watch numerous dinghies being sailed by youngsters under the auspices of the Cobnor Christian Activities Centre. These people seemed fearless and completely oblivious of the rain. They revelled in the gusty conditions while being shepherded by vigilant young men racing around in fast ribs; when a dinghy headed towards a moored yacht one of these ribs expertly intervened to prevent a collision. The Centre has a variety of dinghies, but learners are first placed in Bosun dinghies. When they are more proficient they are allowed to try their hand at Picos and Lazers. I saw a Pico being towed back to the Centre after its mast had broken in two.
I didn’t do any sailing on Saturday, but I was most marvellously entertained by all those who took to the water and I enjoyed good food and welcome relaxation.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Cobnor (Day One)
On Thursday, 16th August the forecast for the weekend at Cobnor was not great – SW veering to NW 5 – 7 on the Saturday, but decreasing on Sunday, and better for the coming week.
An examination of the chart for Chichester Harbour showed an area of outstanding natural beauty with navigable water of 11 square miles distributed in four ‘fingers’ running from South to North: the Emsworth Channel, the Thorney Channel, the Bosham Channel and the Fishbourne Channel. To my mind, this configuration was promising for some interesting sailing at a location I had only visited to await passage when cruising the English Channel and the Solent. If the general winds were from the West, South West or North West as could be expected, exploring these waters would be great fun. In the event, generally throughout the week, cold winds persisted from the north accompanied by periods of rain, drizzle or showers, but there were some periods of hazy sun and several hours of good sunny weather.
It was a long time since my last attendance at a Dinghy Cruising Association meeting, largely due to the fact that meanwhile I had built two boats and owned a sailing cruiser which I sailed extensively for a couple years. After an uneventful road journey to Emsworth Marina I launched ‘Faith’ shortly after mid-day on Friday, 17th August. In the short passage to the west after leaving the protective walls of the Marina I encountered the wind and current from ahead. No matter how hard I tried with the yuloh I could not make any progress; indeed I lost ground and drifted into the natural backwater north of the Marina where I asked the owner of ‘Brise’ to tow me into open water, to which he agreed. There I hoisted sail for a close-reach down the Emsworth Channel.
To the Fishery South Cardinal Buoy is a distance of about 6 nautical miles and sailing against the incoming tide presented no problems. A good many yachtsmen and dinghy sailors were out enjoying the sunshine. Not being totally familiar with these waters I took due note of where ‘Faith’ sailed. Emsworth Channel is particularly well marked with port hand and starboard hand beacons, as indeed is the case with all of the navigable waters within the jurisdiction of the Chichester Harbour Authority. Soon after my departure I took a good look towards Northney Marina where I guessed Al would be launching his Paradox, ‘Little Jim’, but there was no sign of him or of his boat. Next came Marker Point, a small peninsular of land to my port hand. Rather more quickly than I imagined possible, we moved southwards over the smooth water brought about by Hayling Island to windward.
A mile or so north of the Island Sailing Club at Sandy Point I lay a course towards East Head which is a gorgeous sand spit to the east of the Harbour entrance with a popular anchorage for day sailors and over night cruisers. By then the tide was ebbing, but there was ample wind for ‘Faith’ as she ran before it along the approach to the Chichester Channel which lay to the North East. I was a little concerned that my boat may get caught on the sand near the derelict wooden pilings leading to the mouth of Thorney Channel, but beacons marked the deep water all the way. The expanse of water narrowed between Cobnor Point and the wooded Itchenor bank to the South; there ‘Faith’ had to negotiate a safe path between hundreds of racing dinghies doing their thing. Among the melee I found the green conical Fairway Buoy which marked my turning point to the north for the Bosham Channel and the Cobnor Activities Centre where nearby I found the slipway to be used by the DCA members for launching and retrieving their dinghies. I had been unable to use the slipway, because ‘Faith’ was heavier than a Wayfarer dinghy and the rule stated that such boats were taboo. I think the main reason for the weight restriction is to prevent many vehicles using the very narrow and unsuitable road leading to the slipway. The whole of that part of Thorney Island is privately owned and it is only by consent that visitors can use the facilities which include a washroom, toilets and showers. There is a field set aside for campers who must book in advance, and that’s where the DCA contingent set up their tents and campervans.
At quarter past four in the afternoon on the dot I set the anchor a cable or so from the slipway. There was no sign of any other DCA members or their boats, but as the meeting was not due to commence until after 11.00 am the next day I was not concerned. I was happy to be afloat again with all I needed for a comfortable night aboard my little boat. As the water receded and the expanse of mud increased either side of the fairway a white Egret with a black beak and black legs searched the water’s edge for morsels to eat. A cormorant perched on a nearby beacon spread his wings to dry and a bird hidden in trees surrounding a private beach house made an unusual shrieking call I did not recognise.
An examination of the chart for Chichester Harbour showed an area of outstanding natural beauty with navigable water of 11 square miles distributed in four ‘fingers’ running from South to North: the Emsworth Channel, the Thorney Channel, the Bosham Channel and the Fishbourne Channel. To my mind, this configuration was promising for some interesting sailing at a location I had only visited to await passage when cruising the English Channel and the Solent. If the general winds were from the West, South West or North West as could be expected, exploring these waters would be great fun. In the event, generally throughout the week, cold winds persisted from the north accompanied by periods of rain, drizzle or showers, but there were some periods of hazy sun and several hours of good sunny weather.
It was a long time since my last attendance at a Dinghy Cruising Association meeting, largely due to the fact that meanwhile I had built two boats and owned a sailing cruiser which I sailed extensively for a couple years. After an uneventful road journey to Emsworth Marina I launched ‘Faith’ shortly after mid-day on Friday, 17th August. In the short passage to the west after leaving the protective walls of the Marina I encountered the wind and current from ahead. No matter how hard I tried with the yuloh I could not make any progress; indeed I lost ground and drifted into the natural backwater north of the Marina where I asked the owner of ‘Brise’ to tow me into open water, to which he agreed. There I hoisted sail for a close-reach down the Emsworth Channel.
To the Fishery South Cardinal Buoy is a distance of about 6 nautical miles and sailing against the incoming tide presented no problems. A good many yachtsmen and dinghy sailors were out enjoying the sunshine. Not being totally familiar with these waters I took due note of where ‘Faith’ sailed. Emsworth Channel is particularly well marked with port hand and starboard hand beacons, as indeed is the case with all of the navigable waters within the jurisdiction of the Chichester Harbour Authority. Soon after my departure I took a good look towards Northney Marina where I guessed Al would be launching his Paradox, ‘Little Jim’, but there was no sign of him or of his boat. Next came Marker Point, a small peninsular of land to my port hand. Rather more quickly than I imagined possible, we moved southwards over the smooth water brought about by Hayling Island to windward.
A mile or so north of the Island Sailing Club at Sandy Point I lay a course towards East Head which is a gorgeous sand spit to the east of the Harbour entrance with a popular anchorage for day sailors and over night cruisers. By then the tide was ebbing, but there was ample wind for ‘Faith’ as she ran before it along the approach to the Chichester Channel which lay to the North East. I was a little concerned that my boat may get caught on the sand near the derelict wooden pilings leading to the mouth of Thorney Channel, but beacons marked the deep water all the way. The expanse of water narrowed between Cobnor Point and the wooded Itchenor bank to the South; there ‘Faith’ had to negotiate a safe path between hundreds of racing dinghies doing their thing. Among the melee I found the green conical Fairway Buoy which marked my turning point to the north for the Bosham Channel and the Cobnor Activities Centre where nearby I found the slipway to be used by the DCA members for launching and retrieving their dinghies. I had been unable to use the slipway, because ‘Faith’ was heavier than a Wayfarer dinghy and the rule stated that such boats were taboo. I think the main reason for the weight restriction is to prevent many vehicles using the very narrow and unsuitable road leading to the slipway. The whole of that part of Thorney Island is privately owned and it is only by consent that visitors can use the facilities which include a washroom, toilets and showers. There is a field set aside for campers who must book in advance, and that’s where the DCA contingent set up their tents and campervans.
At quarter past four in the afternoon on the dot I set the anchor a cable or so from the slipway. There was no sign of any other DCA members or their boats, but as the meeting was not due to commence until after 11.00 am the next day I was not concerned. I was happy to be afloat again with all I needed for a comfortable night aboard my little boat. As the water receded and the expanse of mud increased either side of the fairway a white Egret with a black beak and black legs searched the water’s edge for morsels to eat. A cormorant perched on a nearby beacon spread his wings to dry and a bird hidden in trees surrounding a private beach house made an unusual shrieking call I did not recognise.
Friday, August 03, 2007
Back Home
Friday, 3rd August
Again, it was another perfect morning. After breakfast I went for a stroll along the river bank; early as it was, there were a good number of people doing the same; several were exercising their dogs. One such person cleared pooh from the pavement, but as I watched him I stepped into some of the smelly stuff deposited by another dog!
The whole morning was a lazy affair as I waited for my daughter to bring the car; meanwhile I un-stepped the mast and cleaned Blackwater mud off the anchor. I also prepared the trailer for the time of retrieving the boat at 1400. Everything went smoothly and we were ready for the off after half-an-hour, which was a record.
I’m uncertain when ‘Faith’ will continue her adventures – possibly at the Cobnor DCA meeting scheduled for 18th and 19th August.
Again, it was another perfect morning. After breakfast I went for a stroll along the river bank; early as it was, there were a good number of people doing the same; several were exercising their dogs. One such person cleared pooh from the pavement, but as I watched him I stepped into some of the smelly stuff deposited by another dog!
The whole morning was a lazy affair as I waited for my daughter to bring the car; meanwhile I un-stepped the mast and cleaned Blackwater mud off the anchor. I also prepared the trailer for the time of retrieving the boat at 1400. Everything went smoothly and we were ready for the off after half-an-hour, which was a record.
I’m uncertain when ‘Faith’ will continue her adventures – possibly at the Cobnor DCA meeting scheduled for 18th and 19th August.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
An Excellent Day
Thursday, 2nd August 07
At 0550 ‘Faith’ was underway after being anchored for the night in the lee of Pewit Island, Bradwell. There was a light wind from the NW that provided steerage way as we headed for the Bench Head buoy four and a half miles away to the east. It was one of those wonderful mornings when the rising sun was a bright golden ball, the sky was azure blue speckled with mackerel patterned white clouds and between them a waning moon said, “Hello. I know you are enjoying it.” Two other yachts were heading in the same direction but under ‘steam’. I was surprised with a heavy breathing sound to the stern of the boat and on glancing behind there was an inquisitive seal surveying the scene.
By 0700 St Peter’s church, that very ancient monument built from stone lay on the port quarter visible above the sandy sea shore. A series of old mulberry harbour type concrete structures were strategically placed on the sand as wave breakers. I made a note in the log that this was sailing at its best. ‘Faith’ held her course towards the Swin Spitway and on her way she passed a series of buoys at the entrance to the River Colne. There was virtually no wind at the Spitway and a drifting match ensued. Once through the gap between the sands I downed the sail and used the yuloh to steer the boat with the new flooding tide towards the Ridge buoy. There a light NE wind helped us in the direction of Burnham marked by low lying land on the north side of the River Crouch. It was quite strange that the tall buildings of Southend-on-Sea could be seen in the hazy distance. Several motor yachts came by, none of them slowing down, hence what little wind there was, was shaken from the sail. By 1130 we were at the Outer Crouch buoy and the wind freshened to a force 2 from the west. Coming from Burnham there was fine schooner Freedom yacht with tan sails.
Tacking through the Burnham moorings was an exciting business because the wind increased to force 3 and I had to take great care not to collide with any moored yacht. Beyond the trots I shortened sail and prepared the boat for entering Burnham Yacht Harbour. On entering the Harbour I found the wind was from ahead, so I downed the sail and used the yuloh to reach a vacant pontoon. There I started writing up the log, but I was required to move the boat because the owner of the berth arrived with her open motorboat. Unfortunately I lost my spectacles doing the move, but I was able to use a spare pair for typing. Just now the rain has started, so I’ll prepare the boat in readiness for when it may pour down.
At 0550 ‘Faith’ was underway after being anchored for the night in the lee of Pewit Island, Bradwell. There was a light wind from the NW that provided steerage way as we headed for the Bench Head buoy four and a half miles away to the east. It was one of those wonderful mornings when the rising sun was a bright golden ball, the sky was azure blue speckled with mackerel patterned white clouds and between them a waning moon said, “Hello. I know you are enjoying it.” Two other yachts were heading in the same direction but under ‘steam’. I was surprised with a heavy breathing sound to the stern of the boat and on glancing behind there was an inquisitive seal surveying the scene.
By 0700 St Peter’s church, that very ancient monument built from stone lay on the port quarter visible above the sandy sea shore. A series of old mulberry harbour type concrete structures were strategically placed on the sand as wave breakers. I made a note in the log that this was sailing at its best. ‘Faith’ held her course towards the Swin Spitway and on her way she passed a series of buoys at the entrance to the River Colne. There was virtually no wind at the Spitway and a drifting match ensued. Once through the gap between the sands I downed the sail and used the yuloh to steer the boat with the new flooding tide towards the Ridge buoy. There a light NE wind helped us in the direction of Burnham marked by low lying land on the north side of the River Crouch. It was quite strange that the tall buildings of Southend-on-Sea could be seen in the hazy distance. Several motor yachts came by, none of them slowing down, hence what little wind there was, was shaken from the sail. By 1130 we were at the Outer Crouch buoy and the wind freshened to a force 2 from the west. Coming from Burnham there was fine schooner Freedom yacht with tan sails.
Tacking through the Burnham moorings was an exciting business because the wind increased to force 3 and I had to take great care not to collide with any moored yacht. Beyond the trots I shortened sail and prepared the boat for entering Burnham Yacht Harbour. On entering the Harbour I found the wind was from ahead, so I downed the sail and used the yuloh to reach a vacant pontoon. There I started writing up the log, but I was required to move the boat because the owner of the berth arrived with her open motorboat. Unfortunately I lost my spectacles doing the move, but I was able to use a spare pair for typing. Just now the rain has started, so I’ll prepare the boat in readiness for when it may pour down.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Two Good Days
Tuesady, 31st July 07
As the sun set yesterday a veil of gossamer cobwebs streaked horizontally from the mast and rigging; a large white moon lifted above the southern horizon. Night was not as peaceful as I had hoped, but whenever I woke and glanced around there was beauty in the moonlight.
Up early as usual I listened to the shipping forecast and after breakfast we were away with the last of the ebb. I was surprised that a huge barge carrying a crane and a new north cardinal buoy overtook me on the way to lay the sea mark. There was very little wind, just a NE force 1 that saw us close-hauled. Shortly after 0800 we passed the Sunken Buxey Buoy near Foulness Sands where a dozen seals lay contented on the beach. A beautiful black and cream smack with a blue and white topsail overhauled ‘Faith’ and her girl crew asked permission to take a photo of the little boat.
By 0900 the wind petered out as the flood was intent on sweeping us back to Burnham; therefore I dropped the hook to await the anticipated sea breeze. An hour and a half later a large blue cargo ship with a white superstructure passed to the north and a gentle wind came in from the South East which meant we were on the wind again. Taking advantage of ‘Faith’s’ shallow draught I laid a course for the Buxey Beacon to the north and at the same time the wind came in from behind. Shortly before half eleven we were within a quarter of a mile of the lattice structure. Beyond lay the entrance to the River Colne and Brightlingsea could clearly be seen. Some anchored fishing boats were on our course.
At 1340 I anchored at Mearsea Stone for a break and refreshments, but an hour and a half later I moved because there was only 5 feet of water and a small rapid developed as the ebb made itself felt. With only a scrap of sail ‘Faith’ ran up river to the entrance of Pyefleet Creek where I again set the anchor, but in sufficient depth to allow us to remain afloat. Many yachts passed us on their way into the Creek and after my evening meal one anchored almost on top of ‘Faith’s’ anchor. I just hope we do not collide during the night.
Wednesday, 1st August 07
The anchorage on the River Colne became peaceful, but despite this I had a restless night and at 0430 I noticed a yellow Snapdragon 23 dragging her anchor; therefore I shouted “Ahoy” several times before a sleepy young man emerged from the cabin. He very quickly re-laid his anchor and disappeared below but not without thanking me for my warning.
There wasn’t a drop of wind, but the last of the tide was ebbing so I took up my anchor and used the yuloh to take ‘Faith’ with the current. Two hours later we were not far from the Colne Point buoy when a gentle wind came in from the SW which very soon backed to the SE. Progress was non-existent because the flood tide began to sweep us back into the River Colne. There was no way we were going to reach the Walton Backwaters and the only alternative was to drift with the current towards Bradwell Power Station where we arrived near the outfall at 1125. I decided to call into the Marconi Sailing Club for drinking water and on the way I followed the line of the perches marking drying mud at low water springs.
There was a lot of activity at the Sailing Club because hundreds of youngsters were sailing lightweight colourful dinghies such as Picos and Toppers. As I pulled into the new jetty many willing hands attended to my needs and the water was aboard in a few moments after which ‘Faith’ drifted with the current to anchor in time for lunch. It was really enjoyable in the summer sun watching many dinghies sailing to and fro.
When I had finished my afternoon snooze I made sail for a freshening wind that developed into a force 3 from east by south which meant ‘Faith’ was on the wind towards Bradwell where I intended to anchor in the lee of Pewit Island. I had a difficult moment near the north shore when ‘Faith’ would not tack; therefore I ran the boat before the wind and brought her round on the starboard tack which made it easier to reef. On the dot of 1630 I set the anchor in 15’ of water off Pewit Islalnd. I judged that depth of water would mean we would remain afloat.
As I type this I’m well fed and the wind has dropped altogether. It’s really peaceful here. The sun is reflected off the water to starboard and the birds on Pewit Island are making their characteristic trilling call..
As the sun set yesterday a veil of gossamer cobwebs streaked horizontally from the mast and rigging; a large white moon lifted above the southern horizon. Night was not as peaceful as I had hoped, but whenever I woke and glanced around there was beauty in the moonlight.
Up early as usual I listened to the shipping forecast and after breakfast we were away with the last of the ebb. I was surprised that a huge barge carrying a crane and a new north cardinal buoy overtook me on the way to lay the sea mark. There was very little wind, just a NE force 1 that saw us close-hauled. Shortly after 0800 we passed the Sunken Buxey Buoy near Foulness Sands where a dozen seals lay contented on the beach. A beautiful black and cream smack with a blue and white topsail overhauled ‘Faith’ and her girl crew asked permission to take a photo of the little boat.
By 0900 the wind petered out as the flood was intent on sweeping us back to Burnham; therefore I dropped the hook to await the anticipated sea breeze. An hour and a half later a large blue cargo ship with a white superstructure passed to the north and a gentle wind came in from the South East which meant we were on the wind again. Taking advantage of ‘Faith’s’ shallow draught I laid a course for the Buxey Beacon to the north and at the same time the wind came in from behind. Shortly before half eleven we were within a quarter of a mile of the lattice structure. Beyond lay the entrance to the River Colne and Brightlingsea could clearly be seen. Some anchored fishing boats were on our course.
At 1340 I anchored at Mearsea Stone for a break and refreshments, but an hour and a half later I moved because there was only 5 feet of water and a small rapid developed as the ebb made itself felt. With only a scrap of sail ‘Faith’ ran up river to the entrance of Pyefleet Creek where I again set the anchor, but in sufficient depth to allow us to remain afloat. Many yachts passed us on their way into the Creek and after my evening meal one anchored almost on top of ‘Faith’s’ anchor. I just hope we do not collide during the night.
Wednesday, 1st August 07
The anchorage on the River Colne became peaceful, but despite this I had a restless night and at 0430 I noticed a yellow Snapdragon 23 dragging her anchor; therefore I shouted “Ahoy” several times before a sleepy young man emerged from the cabin. He very quickly re-laid his anchor and disappeared below but not without thanking me for my warning.
There wasn’t a drop of wind, but the last of the tide was ebbing so I took up my anchor and used the yuloh to take ‘Faith’ with the current. Two hours later we were not far from the Colne Point buoy when a gentle wind came in from the SW which very soon backed to the SE. Progress was non-existent because the flood tide began to sweep us back into the River Colne. There was no way we were going to reach the Walton Backwaters and the only alternative was to drift with the current towards Bradwell Power Station where we arrived near the outfall at 1125. I decided to call into the Marconi Sailing Club for drinking water and on the way I followed the line of the perches marking drying mud at low water springs.
There was a lot of activity at the Sailing Club because hundreds of youngsters were sailing lightweight colourful dinghies such as Picos and Toppers. As I pulled into the new jetty many willing hands attended to my needs and the water was aboard in a few moments after which ‘Faith’ drifted with the current to anchor in time for lunch. It was really enjoyable in the summer sun watching many dinghies sailing to and fro.
When I had finished my afternoon snooze I made sail for a freshening wind that developed into a force 3 from east by south which meant ‘Faith’ was on the wind towards Bradwell where I intended to anchor in the lee of Pewit Island. I had a difficult moment near the north shore when ‘Faith’ would not tack; therefore I ran the boat before the wind and brought her round on the starboard tack which made it easier to reef. On the dot of 1630 I set the anchor in 15’ of water off Pewit Islalnd. I judged that depth of water would mean we would remain afloat.
As I type this I’m well fed and the wind has dropped altogether. It’s really peaceful here. The sun is reflected off the water to starboard and the birds on Pewit Island are making their characteristic trilling call..
Monday, July 30, 2007
Afloat Again
It is Monday, 30th July 07 and ‘Faith’ is afloat again, but this time on the River Crouch, her home waters. She was launched at Burnham Yacht Harbour at 1300, almost an hour before high water. I had intended to launch at Hullbridge at the public slipway, but the wind was onshore and I was uncertain I’d have enough depth of water. As it worked out Burnham was fine.
After lunch I tried the yuloh which was much better than before but I needed to make a bungee fixture to keep the yuloh from coming of its pin.
Because the wind was coming from the North West I felt it best not to set out right away, but rather to leave the departure until daylight tomorrow, all being well with the forecast. The tides are unfavourable for getting north and east because the flood will be in action for the greater part of the day and ‘Faith’ will need to make way against the current.
Tonight looks like being peaceful since ‘Faith’ is anchored near the north bank of the River Crouch opposite the entrance to the River Roach and the boat is protected from what little wind there is.
After lunch I tried the yuloh which was much better than before but I needed to make a bungee fixture to keep the yuloh from coming of its pin.
Because the wind was coming from the North West I felt it best not to set out right away, but rather to leave the departure until daylight tomorrow, all being well with the forecast. The tides are unfavourable for getting north and east because the flood will be in action for the greater part of the day and ‘Faith’ will need to make way against the current.
Tonight looks like being peaceful since ‘Faith’ is anchored near the north bank of the River Crouch opposite the entrance to the River Roach and the boat is protected from what little wind there is.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Forecast
The forecast for the next few days looks good, except the wind speeds are likely to be low or non-existent; nevertheless, I think I should avail myself of this ‘promise’ by the forecasters after such a bad summer. If I can get the boat launched on Monday, 30th July at Hullbridge from the public slipway I’ll take the ebb towards Burnham-on-Crouch, and who knows where I might drift off the East Coast. Perhaps the currents will whisk me to the Walton Backwaters and into Titchmarsh Marina where my friend Richard keeps his 40’ wooden classic yacht? Maybe I’ll be taken by the currents to the Rivers Ore and Alde where the DCA have a scheduled meeting on the weekend of 4th and 5th June?
The ship’s battery aboard ‘Faith’ is fully charged; therefore I’m hopeful I’ll be able to keep the blog log going by charging the laptop battery from it. So if you are interested in where the currents take us, that’s me and the boat, keep an eye on this page.
The ship’s battery aboard ‘Faith’ is fully charged; therefore I’m hopeful I’ll be able to keep the blog log going by charging the laptop battery from it. So if you are interested in where the currents take us, that’s me and the boat, keep an eye on this page.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Plymouth to Exmouth
We had a quiet night anchored in the lee near the entrance to Millbrook Creek and we left the anchorage shortly after 0830 on the morning of 17th July 07. The inshore forecast was for a south westerly wind of force 5/6, decreasing 3 or 4 for with showers. As we sailed across Plymouth Sound we felt the full force of a southerly wind. We could hold a course for the eastern end of the breakwater and beyond near the shore where we put in a tack taking us outside the Mewstone off the entrance of the River Yealm. When clear of the fearsome looking rock we bore off on a course to windward of the Udder Rock. There was a large swell to the extent that for seconds at a time we could not see our companion boat. The wind increased to force 5 and perhaps 6 and showing no sign of abating.
Our boats were absolutely amazing; they never gave us occasion for alarm, although waves lifted and attempted to topple them. I kept the hatch of ‘Faith’ partially open, but I noticed Al was sailing his boat from inside, completely sealed from the elements. With the help of the flood tide our little craft frequently touched five knots and Al told me his GPS registered a top speed for a brief moment of eight knots! His miniature yacht must have surfed down a wave at the time.
At Bolt Head and Bolt Tail the spring tide was ebbing fast, causing the seas to be very confused. This was more awesome than we had expected, bringing about a situation of true adventure sailing. Had we known the weather forecast of decreasing winds was badly out we would not have sailed that day. Squalls shot over the hill tops and down the valleys laying our boats on their sides. We fair scooted up the narrow entrance with high granite cliffs and rolling hills either side. Further in, beyond the sandbar we passed grand hotels and large mansions. While approaching the public pontoon we downed our sails then used the yulohs to come alongside. The harbour master’s assistants were very helpful by providing us with information and also allowing us to stay at the pontoon longer than the permitted two hours. I shopped for a new peaked cap, as I had lost two when they were blown into the water. Retrieving such a small item when underway in windy conditions is always tricky because an eye has to be kept on it while the boat is being turned around, then a smart manoeuvre is required for plucking it out of the water before it sinks or it is lost from sight in the waves.
High water that evening was approximately at 2100 hours and therefore we waited until the incoming tide had slackened before beating to the beach at Splat Cove near the entrance to the River. We made the mistake of thinking we could settle on the beach for a quiet night, but in the event the surge brought about by the boisterous winds caused us some anxiety as our boats bounced on the appropriately named beach. Eventually we were left high and dry. At 0400 I laid out the anchors for our boats, placing them much further from the high water mark so that we would be able to pull our craft clear as they floated.
By 0700 we were afloat and anchored leeward of the beach for breakfast before setting off against the incoming tide. As there was so little wind we had to scull or paddle beyond Salcombe’s infamous sandbar in search of wind. It was the morning of the 18th July and yachts motor-sailing passed us on their way to a point where they could safely round Start Point. Al and I had agreed a waypoint well south of the Race and there we changed course for Berry Head, which was just visible in the distance. With the wind and tide behind us we made excellent time, but when we arrived near the prominent steep-sided sandstone cliff the tide turned against us and the wind dropped, so it was back to our yulohs again. Gradually we made progress towards the centre of Torbay where the effect of the ebb was less and where we were likely to pick up what little wind there was in the shadow of the land to windward. We were surprised at the strength of the ebb current as it moved southwards past Brixham Harbour, but by sailing well to the north before doing a final tack we gained access the Harbour where we moored at the Sailing Club pontoon.
The skipper of ‘Oronso’, a grand 31’ Moody yacht, made us very welcome. He and his crew had been stormbound for many days on his way from the upper reaches of the Bristol Channel - even 9 frustrating days he spent at the tiny Cornish port of Newlyn. He had wisely chosen not to sail the day our little craft had arrived at Salcombe.
The Brixham Yacht Club staff and members received us warmly by making their facilities at our disposal, including the use of their showers and afterwards by providing a cooked meal at a very reasonable price. One member even made his dinghy available for us so that we could get ashore from the pontoon.
Thursday, 19th July.
It was one of those gorgeous, calm sunny mornings as we cast off from the pontoon at Brixham Sailing Club. Al led the way by efficiently sculling ‘Little Jim’ while I paddled ‘Faith’ rather more slowly behind him. I wished my yuloh had been working properly so that I could have kept up with the leader. I had not made the pivot hole in the shaft sufficiently wide to allow me to rotate the blade properly.
Even beyond the promontory of Berry Head there was little wind. Al’s racing car green boat with her tan sail was almost a dot near the horizon by the time a zephyr stirred ‘Faith’ into action. Gradually I made my way towards the south while Al took his boat northwards for the shore, our courses converging until the situation was reversed. I maintained a track parallel to the coast well to the south, clear of the land, while Al searched for onshore breezes near the beach.
Creamy cumulus clouds floated above the land and directly overhead the sky was a perfectly pale blue; seaward there was a thin veil of dark grey cloud with a hint of thunder. Both boats slowly sailed to the east. By mid afternoon ‘Faith’ lay abeam of the seaside resort of Teignmouth, unmistakeable for its high bluff of dark red coloured cliff to the west the river Teign. Beyond, 45 degrees from the port bow lay the tiny seaside town of Dawlish and beyond I could see the sand of Dawlish Warren pointing in the direction of Exmouth. I frequently looked at the changing map on my Garmin GPS to confirm ‘Faith’ was heading towards the Pole Sands, a constantly moving sandbank that we hoped to cross because our boats only required a few inches of water. By doing so we would save a distance of nearly 3 miles.
When abeam of Dawlish Town I was struck with the beauty of the place from seaward. There were outcrops of sandstone cliffs carved and sculpted into attractive abstract shapes by the action of sea and wind. They reminded me of the works of Henry Moore and Barbara Hepworth, both of whom were influenced by the beauty of natural forms moulded by wind and water.
Approaching the Pole Sands both boats found themselves partners again after sailing different courses and the intrepid Al took the lead again. We called out the depths of water as it gradually began to shallow; then ‘Little Jim’ came to a halt causing Al to jump over the side to float his boat clear. The same thing happened to ‘Faith’. Little by little we worked our craft over the sands as the water rapidly ebbed. Behind we observed breaking wavelets before solid land suddenly popped out of the water. The action was instantaneous and all of a sudden we were trapped while water rushed by as if charging down a rapid. Al had already laid his anchor when he waded towards me to help me lay mine. There was no danger, just a delay as we waited for the flood tide, taking the opportunity for cooking an early evening meal.
While we awaited the return of the water a young man dressed in a black wetsuit lazily sailed and dragged his Topper dinghy with the sail number 33347 towards the beach at Exmouth. Two open catamarans moved slowly beyond the sands on the seaward side of the Pole Sands and a man looking rather concerned for our welfare stood on the Warren beach. He was beyond hailing distance; therefore we could not reassure him that we were perfectly happy with our situation. Tripper boats, fishing launches and numerous small craft motored in on the incoming tide that charged up the main channel between the off-lying bank where we were stranded and Exmouth town beach. Waves from their wakes disturbed gulls searching for food at the water’s edge.
When the tide obligingly lifted our boats we used the current to whisk us beyond the harbour, then by the lifeboat and into a sandy cove adjacent to Imperial Park near the slipway we were to use the next morning. At this point Bill Churchhouse appeared wading in a pair of blue welly boots; the tanned spritely figure introduced himself and in no time we were chatting about boats as if we had been friends for years. He had entered the 2006 Jester Challenge Atlantic Race and was an entrant for the 2010 race. His boat with the name ‘Belgean’ was aground nearby on a raised level of sand. To anchor there cost nothing and as he was living aboard his Westerly 22 during the summer months he was appreciative of the facility. She looked the part with a self-steering gear and a transparent observation dome.
True to his word he turned up in his tender before high water on Friday morning (20th July) to help us retrieve our boats. Al took his ashore first because he could winch ‘Little Jim’ onto the trailer from very shallow water without getting the wheels of his trailer wet. Putting my boat on her trailer was more problematic. By the time the water was deep enough the incoming tide was intent on whisking her to one side, but as I held her centrally on the trailer Al winched in the boat. I quickly jumped into the car and pulled the trailer clear by using a long length of rope. Bill Churchouse and Al chocked the wheels so that the trailer would not roll down the slipway and I released the rope and backed the car for attaching the trailer to it.
Another interested party in our Paradoxes, by the name of Mike joined the ensuing conversation. He had been busily taking photos of the retrieval events. These photos he would send to me via the Internet and he also told me his Seawych bilge keel yacht was for sale, whereupon I said I would gladly add an advertisement on my web site. The journey home by road was very tedious because it took 7 hours on account of the volume of traffic, it being the first day after the schools had broken up for the summer recess and because the rain was absolutely torrential, causing accidents and breakdowns. Road works added to the delay in getting home.
In retrospect, Al and I had enjoyed a fortnight’s cruise despite the bad weather and we made tentative murmurings that we might have another attempt at the Scilly Isles next year after seeing the start of the Jester Azores Challenge Race at Plymouth. For such plans so much depends upon personal circumstances and the vagaries of the weather.
Our boats were absolutely amazing; they never gave us occasion for alarm, although waves lifted and attempted to topple them. I kept the hatch of ‘Faith’ partially open, but I noticed Al was sailing his boat from inside, completely sealed from the elements. With the help of the flood tide our little craft frequently touched five knots and Al told me his GPS registered a top speed for a brief moment of eight knots! His miniature yacht must have surfed down a wave at the time.
At Bolt Head and Bolt Tail the spring tide was ebbing fast, causing the seas to be very confused. This was more awesome than we had expected, bringing about a situation of true adventure sailing. Had we known the weather forecast of decreasing winds was badly out we would not have sailed that day. Squalls shot over the hill tops and down the valleys laying our boats on their sides. We fair scooted up the narrow entrance with high granite cliffs and rolling hills either side. Further in, beyond the sandbar we passed grand hotels and large mansions. While approaching the public pontoon we downed our sails then used the yulohs to come alongside. The harbour master’s assistants were very helpful by providing us with information and also allowing us to stay at the pontoon longer than the permitted two hours. I shopped for a new peaked cap, as I had lost two when they were blown into the water. Retrieving such a small item when underway in windy conditions is always tricky because an eye has to be kept on it while the boat is being turned around, then a smart manoeuvre is required for plucking it out of the water before it sinks or it is lost from sight in the waves.
High water that evening was approximately at 2100 hours and therefore we waited until the incoming tide had slackened before beating to the beach at Splat Cove near the entrance to the River. We made the mistake of thinking we could settle on the beach for a quiet night, but in the event the surge brought about by the boisterous winds caused us some anxiety as our boats bounced on the appropriately named beach. Eventually we were left high and dry. At 0400 I laid out the anchors for our boats, placing them much further from the high water mark so that we would be able to pull our craft clear as they floated.
By 0700 we were afloat and anchored leeward of the beach for breakfast before setting off against the incoming tide. As there was so little wind we had to scull or paddle beyond Salcombe’s infamous sandbar in search of wind. It was the morning of the 18th July and yachts motor-sailing passed us on their way to a point where they could safely round Start Point. Al and I had agreed a waypoint well south of the Race and there we changed course for Berry Head, which was just visible in the distance. With the wind and tide behind us we made excellent time, but when we arrived near the prominent steep-sided sandstone cliff the tide turned against us and the wind dropped, so it was back to our yulohs again. Gradually we made progress towards the centre of Torbay where the effect of the ebb was less and where we were likely to pick up what little wind there was in the shadow of the land to windward. We were surprised at the strength of the ebb current as it moved southwards past Brixham Harbour, but by sailing well to the north before doing a final tack we gained access the Harbour where we moored at the Sailing Club pontoon.
The skipper of ‘Oronso’, a grand 31’ Moody yacht, made us very welcome. He and his crew had been stormbound for many days on his way from the upper reaches of the Bristol Channel - even 9 frustrating days he spent at the tiny Cornish port of Newlyn. He had wisely chosen not to sail the day our little craft had arrived at Salcombe.
The Brixham Yacht Club staff and members received us warmly by making their facilities at our disposal, including the use of their showers and afterwards by providing a cooked meal at a very reasonable price. One member even made his dinghy available for us so that we could get ashore from the pontoon.
Thursday, 19th July.
It was one of those gorgeous, calm sunny mornings as we cast off from the pontoon at Brixham Sailing Club. Al led the way by efficiently sculling ‘Little Jim’ while I paddled ‘Faith’ rather more slowly behind him. I wished my yuloh had been working properly so that I could have kept up with the leader. I had not made the pivot hole in the shaft sufficiently wide to allow me to rotate the blade properly.
Even beyond the promontory of Berry Head there was little wind. Al’s racing car green boat with her tan sail was almost a dot near the horizon by the time a zephyr stirred ‘Faith’ into action. Gradually I made my way towards the south while Al took his boat northwards for the shore, our courses converging until the situation was reversed. I maintained a track parallel to the coast well to the south, clear of the land, while Al searched for onshore breezes near the beach.
Creamy cumulus clouds floated above the land and directly overhead the sky was a perfectly pale blue; seaward there was a thin veil of dark grey cloud with a hint of thunder. Both boats slowly sailed to the east. By mid afternoon ‘Faith’ lay abeam of the seaside resort of Teignmouth, unmistakeable for its high bluff of dark red coloured cliff to the west the river Teign. Beyond, 45 degrees from the port bow lay the tiny seaside town of Dawlish and beyond I could see the sand of Dawlish Warren pointing in the direction of Exmouth. I frequently looked at the changing map on my Garmin GPS to confirm ‘Faith’ was heading towards the Pole Sands, a constantly moving sandbank that we hoped to cross because our boats only required a few inches of water. By doing so we would save a distance of nearly 3 miles.
When abeam of Dawlish Town I was struck with the beauty of the place from seaward. There were outcrops of sandstone cliffs carved and sculpted into attractive abstract shapes by the action of sea and wind. They reminded me of the works of Henry Moore and Barbara Hepworth, both of whom were influenced by the beauty of natural forms moulded by wind and water.
Approaching the Pole Sands both boats found themselves partners again after sailing different courses and the intrepid Al took the lead again. We called out the depths of water as it gradually began to shallow; then ‘Little Jim’ came to a halt causing Al to jump over the side to float his boat clear. The same thing happened to ‘Faith’. Little by little we worked our craft over the sands as the water rapidly ebbed. Behind we observed breaking wavelets before solid land suddenly popped out of the water. The action was instantaneous and all of a sudden we were trapped while water rushed by as if charging down a rapid. Al had already laid his anchor when he waded towards me to help me lay mine. There was no danger, just a delay as we waited for the flood tide, taking the opportunity for cooking an early evening meal.
While we awaited the return of the water a young man dressed in a black wetsuit lazily sailed and dragged his Topper dinghy with the sail number 33347 towards the beach at Exmouth. Two open catamarans moved slowly beyond the sands on the seaward side of the Pole Sands and a man looking rather concerned for our welfare stood on the Warren beach. He was beyond hailing distance; therefore we could not reassure him that we were perfectly happy with our situation. Tripper boats, fishing launches and numerous small craft motored in on the incoming tide that charged up the main channel between the off-lying bank where we were stranded and Exmouth town beach. Waves from their wakes disturbed gulls searching for food at the water’s edge.
When the tide obligingly lifted our boats we used the current to whisk us beyond the harbour, then by the lifeboat and into a sandy cove adjacent to Imperial Park near the slipway we were to use the next morning. At this point Bill Churchhouse appeared wading in a pair of blue welly boots; the tanned spritely figure introduced himself and in no time we were chatting about boats as if we had been friends for years. He had entered the 2006 Jester Challenge Atlantic Race and was an entrant for the 2010 race. His boat with the name ‘Belgean’ was aground nearby on a raised level of sand. To anchor there cost nothing and as he was living aboard his Westerly 22 during the summer months he was appreciative of the facility. She looked the part with a self-steering gear and a transparent observation dome.
True to his word he turned up in his tender before high water on Friday morning (20th July) to help us retrieve our boats. Al took his ashore first because he could winch ‘Little Jim’ onto the trailer from very shallow water without getting the wheels of his trailer wet. Putting my boat on her trailer was more problematic. By the time the water was deep enough the incoming tide was intent on whisking her to one side, but as I held her centrally on the trailer Al winched in the boat. I quickly jumped into the car and pulled the trailer clear by using a long length of rope. Bill Churchouse and Al chocked the wheels so that the trailer would not roll down the slipway and I released the rope and backed the car for attaching the trailer to it.
Another interested party in our Paradoxes, by the name of Mike joined the ensuing conversation. He had been busily taking photos of the retrieval events. These photos he would send to me via the Internet and he also told me his Seawych bilge keel yacht was for sale, whereupon I said I would gladly add an advertisement on my web site. The journey home by road was very tedious because it took 7 hours on account of the volume of traffic, it being the first day after the schools had broken up for the summer recess and because the rain was absolutely torrential, causing accidents and breakdowns. Road works added to the delay in getting home.
In retrospect, Al and I had enjoyed a fortnight’s cruise despite the bad weather and we made tentative murmurings that we might have another attempt at the Scilly Isles next year after seeing the start of the Jester Azores Challenge Race at Plymouth. For such plans so much depends upon personal circumstances and the vagaries of the weather.
Monday, July 16, 2007
To Plymouth
Rainy Day
I’m not superstitious and yet it is Friday 13th July and the barometer hits a low and there is rain for much of the day. What best to do? Al and I beached our boats at St Just in Roseland and took the car to Truro where we did essential shopping. I for one need ‘GAZ’ canisters for the cooker, milk and tomatoes. Al was desperate for a book, as he had exhausted his library.
While at Truro we visited the Cathedral which is something of a jewel. The architecture inside is supreme beautiful with high vaulted brick ceilings, magnificent pillars, and three large rose windows decorated with colourful stained glass. There’s a superb carved alter wall at the east end full of biblical figures. In the town there is a large pedestrian precinct with all the usual shops and stores.
After our short stay at Truro we moved on to Falmouth where we took the ‘Park and Ride’ service to avoid the difficulty of parking in the town. Despite the appalling wet weather, the main street was full of visitors and the red white and blue bunting strung across the road provided a festive atmosphere. We bought traditional Cornish pasties for consumption at Boat Park near the Maritime Museum where we had a view of the harbour.
Instead of returning to St Just via Truro we took a shortcut by using the King Harry Chain Ferry, and it was just as well we did, for the water was about to float our boats, but not before we had laid out anchors for hauling them into deep water. We used our yulohs to edge across the wind for re-setting the anchors, and as we did so down came the rain in torrents lasting for three hours. Needless to say, I used the time aboard to carry out two jobs: the first was fixing the GPS bracket, because it had come loose, and the second was repairing the join for the water pump that came away from the screw top attaching it to the water tank.
Because the wind was almost gale force, our boats bounced up and down and continued to do so into the night.
14th July
We sailed from St Just to Polruan and picked up mooring there. It was a great sail with a following wind and the sun all day.
15th July
It was a terrible morning with incessant rain. A three mast square rigger named the ‘Earl of Pembroke’ entered the harbour. Al took me in his boat to the town pontoon at Fowey in search of a chandler open on a Sunday. Sure enough we found one and bought the chart.
16th July
We left the moorings at 0840 and tacked out of the entrance to head for the Udder Rock buoy. Visibility was not great but Loe Island came into view. Al took a more windward course which paid off, because I had a real struggle around Rame Head, having to tack to get around it against the ebb. Al waited for me at Cawsands where we met for the run towards Drake Island. Barnpool was not protected from the wind so we made our way to Millbrook Creek and anchored in 10 feet of water at 1740.
I’m not superstitious and yet it is Friday 13th July and the barometer hits a low and there is rain for much of the day. What best to do? Al and I beached our boats at St Just in Roseland and took the car to Truro where we did essential shopping. I for one need ‘GAZ’ canisters for the cooker, milk and tomatoes. Al was desperate for a book, as he had exhausted his library.
While at Truro we visited the Cathedral which is something of a jewel. The architecture inside is supreme beautiful with high vaulted brick ceilings, magnificent pillars, and three large rose windows decorated with colourful stained glass. There’s a superb carved alter wall at the east end full of biblical figures. In the town there is a large pedestrian precinct with all the usual shops and stores.
After our short stay at Truro we moved on to Falmouth where we took the ‘Park and Ride’ service to avoid the difficulty of parking in the town. Despite the appalling wet weather, the main street was full of visitors and the red white and blue bunting strung across the road provided a festive atmosphere. We bought traditional Cornish pasties for consumption at Boat Park near the Maritime Museum where we had a view of the harbour.
Instead of returning to St Just via Truro we took a shortcut by using the King Harry Chain Ferry, and it was just as well we did, for the water was about to float our boats, but not before we had laid out anchors for hauling them into deep water. We used our yulohs to edge across the wind for re-setting the anchors, and as we did so down came the rain in torrents lasting for three hours. Needless to say, I used the time aboard to carry out two jobs: the first was fixing the GPS bracket, because it had come loose, and the second was repairing the join for the water pump that came away from the screw top attaching it to the water tank.
Because the wind was almost gale force, our boats bounced up and down and continued to do so into the night.
14th July
We sailed from St Just to Polruan and picked up mooring there. It was a great sail with a following wind and the sun all day.
15th July
It was a terrible morning with incessant rain. A three mast square rigger named the ‘Earl of Pembroke’ entered the harbour. Al took me in his boat to the town pontoon at Fowey in search of a chandler open on a Sunday. Sure enough we found one and bought the chart.
16th July
We left the moorings at 0840 and tacked out of the entrance to head for the Udder Rock buoy. Visibility was not great but Loe Island came into view. Al took a more windward course which paid off, because I had a real struggle around Rame Head, having to tack to get around it against the ebb. Al waited for me at Cawsands where we met for the run towards Drake Island. Barnpool was not protected from the wind so we made our way to Millbrook Creek and anchored in 10 feet of water at 1740.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
9th to 12th July
Helford River etc (Four Days)
On Monday 9th of July while in St Just Creek I was surprised to find Al in ‘Little Jim’ alongside. He had launched his Paradox an hour or so before. We had a great chat catching up on all the news.
Tuesday, 10th July
Tuesday morning there was drizzle on and off, but we made sail for Falmouth where I wanted to shop for food and batteries. The wind was force at least force 5, more likely 6, which made getting into the pontoons difficult. I sailed in an lay beside a large yacht and I was instructed by the person in charge to move because ‘Faith’ was obstructing the Pilot Boat. As I could not use the yuloh efficiently because of an error in construction I had no option but to sail for Mylor where I had arranged to meet Chas, a longstanding sailing friend, but like Falmouth, because of the strong wind I could not take the boat in safely; therefore Al and I sailed across the River Fal for St Just.
Wednesday, 11th July
There was a weak ridge of high pressure over the British Isles and for the first time sun broke through the clouds. At last the solar panel was charging the battery satisfactorily.
Both boats left St Just Creek at 0815 bound for the Helford River. Sailing across Falmouth Bay was great fun as the force 4 wind was off the shore and the water was smooth, enabling us to make 4 knots and even up to 5 for short bursts. When it came to tacking in the River, Al took the lead and left ‘Faith’ behind. It became obvious I was not sailing my boat correctly, or the sail was inefficient, or the boat was not ballasted correctly for going to windward.
We anchored just inside the mouth of the river by a sandy beach protected with extending rocks, where we had lunch in bright sunshine. Afterwards we sailed to the pontoons at Helford River Sailing Club, we had a super walk exploring the picturesque village. Sadly the cream teas café had closed down. While doing the walk I inadvertently dropped my sailing hat and it wasn’t until I arrived back at the boat that I noticed it was missing. I retraced the walk and found the cap on the grass beside the path leading to the ferry slip.
Back at the club we had showers and Al ate out, while I cooked a meal before joining him for a drink at the Club. Whenever we were at the boats people would ask questions about their origin and design.
That night was very peaceful because the wind dropped and out boats had dried out.
Thursday, 12th July
We spent the morning walking to St Anthony Head and set sail in the afternoon for St Just. There was a following wind of force 4 which gave us high speed across Falmouth Bay. ‘Faith’ briefly touched 6 knots!
Back at St Just we relaxed and watched DCA boats as they came in from their exploits.
Tomorrow the forecast is for rain and a southerly force 7; therefore we’ll beach the boats and take to the car for Falmouth and other places.
On Monday 9th of July while in St Just Creek I was surprised to find Al in ‘Little Jim’ alongside. He had launched his Paradox an hour or so before. We had a great chat catching up on all the news.
Tuesday, 10th July
Tuesday morning there was drizzle on and off, but we made sail for Falmouth where I wanted to shop for food and batteries. The wind was force at least force 5, more likely 6, which made getting into the pontoons difficult. I sailed in an lay beside a large yacht and I was instructed by the person in charge to move because ‘Faith’ was obstructing the Pilot Boat. As I could not use the yuloh efficiently because of an error in construction I had no option but to sail for Mylor where I had arranged to meet Chas, a longstanding sailing friend, but like Falmouth, because of the strong wind I could not take the boat in safely; therefore Al and I sailed across the River Fal for St Just.
Wednesday, 11th July
There was a weak ridge of high pressure over the British Isles and for the first time sun broke through the clouds. At last the solar panel was charging the battery satisfactorily.
Both boats left St Just Creek at 0815 bound for the Helford River. Sailing across Falmouth Bay was great fun as the force 4 wind was off the shore and the water was smooth, enabling us to make 4 knots and even up to 5 for short bursts. When it came to tacking in the River, Al took the lead and left ‘Faith’ behind. It became obvious I was not sailing my boat correctly, or the sail was inefficient, or the boat was not ballasted correctly for going to windward.
We anchored just inside the mouth of the river by a sandy beach protected with extending rocks, where we had lunch in bright sunshine. Afterwards we sailed to the pontoons at Helford River Sailing Club, we had a super walk exploring the picturesque village. Sadly the cream teas café had closed down. While doing the walk I inadvertently dropped my sailing hat and it wasn’t until I arrived back at the boat that I noticed it was missing. I retraced the walk and found the cap on the grass beside the path leading to the ferry slip.
Back at the club we had showers and Al ate out, while I cooked a meal before joining him for a drink at the Club. Whenever we were at the boats people would ask questions about their origin and design.
That night was very peaceful because the wind dropped and out boats had dried out.
Thursday, 12th July
We spent the morning walking to St Anthony Head and set sail in the afternoon for St Just. There was a following wind of force 4 which gave us high speed across Falmouth Bay. ‘Faith’ briefly touched 6 knots!
Back at St Just we relaxed and watched DCA boats as they came in from their exploits.
Tomorrow the forecast is for rain and a southerly force 7; therefore we’ll beach the boats and take to the car for Falmouth and other places.
Monday, July 09, 2007
Two Days
Sunday, 8th
Saturday’s forecast was variable becoming SW 3/4 increasing 5 or 6, heavy showers, good visibility, occasionally moderate. As I had breakfast while anchored at St Mawes I admired the scenery; seaward the colours were magical with huge white clouds reflected in an undulating mirror sea. I set sail for the River Fal and as ‘Faith’ neared the entrance to St Just Creek a swish black launch headed towards us and her skipper shouted, “You have a very distinctive boat,” to which I replied, “She is a bit different.” And that’s what I love about Paradox.
Changing course to the west I made a beeline for the lee, south of Restrongate Creek where tall trees kept the wind at bay, and there set the anchor. A sleek ‘Firebird’ catamaran lay quietly at her mooring a cable to the north and to the south were hundreds of boats tethered to the Mylor trots.
While having lunch a blue ‘Cruz’ drew alongside and Richard and Mark of the Dinghy Cruising Association introduced themselves. Later I observed two more dinghies flying the distinctive blue white and yellow pennant of the DCA. One was large varnished clinker boat with a high peeked lugsail and mizzen, the other was similar to a small Drascombe open boat.
At 1420 I broke out the anchor and hoisted sail with only 2 panels and in the strong wind we made 3.7 knots with an angle of heel of 20 degrees while on the wind. After an hour and a half I returned to nearly the identical spot in the lee of the trees. Later that evening after dinner and ablutions I discovered the laptop computer only had 18% battery power and therefore I could not write up the daily log. Before nightfall I was privileged to see the most beautiful double rainbow while around the boat cormorants or shags were catching their evening meal of fish. The fish were so abundant, shoals of them were breaking surface in a frenzy, presumably because a predator was after them.
Just before dusk the trip boat the, ‘Enterprise’ passed within a few feet while blasting out piped music; she was taking a party of holiday makers up the River to an inn, the name I cannot recall, but probably it was ‘The Anchor’. (Nearly all pubs by rivers have that name.)
In contrast to the unwelcome noise from the ‘Enterprise’ the quiet of the night was a joy, and I had a peaceful sleep.
Monday, 9th
The weather forecast predicted the wind would be stronger than yesterday, following the same pattern with heavy showers.
By 0730 we were underway and I cleaned the mud off the Danforth anchor, but in so doing I managed to get some rather large dollops on my sleeves, which later on dried and almost disappeared. Almost an hour after leaving the anchorage I set the anchor again before beaching on the shingle at St Just in Roseland. I took the laptop and mobile phone to Pasco’s Yard where Julian let me put them on charge. When anchored a few yards out after the shore escapade that included getting water and disposing the rubbish, a Hartley 14 came alongside with a crew of two; the helmsman introduced himself as Alan and he reminded me he had sent me an email in which he said he hoped to meet me at the DCA rally.
While anchored for lunch I checked the wiring on the solar panel and I found I had wired it incorrectly which accounted for the fact that the ship’s battery was low. After rectifying the fault the charger sprang into life.
At 1230 I set saile and followed several of the DCA dinghies bound for the sandy beach at the entrance to Mylor Creek. It was pretty boisterous with breakers brought about by the force 4 or 5 wind, maybe more; therefore I was not surprised when nearly all the boats returned and one crew wished my good luck. Outside in fairway ‘Faith’ came into her own having only 3 panels of sail she was sailing at 2.5 knots almost into the eye of the wind. Along the western shore by Restrongate and Loe Beach the sailing was exciting. There the water was smooth and the wind had increased causing ‘Faith’ to touch 5 knots while reaching. She gave a very comforting feel with no anxiety as she heeled between 20 and 30 degrees. I had the time of my life reaching and beating over and over again before sailing to the narrows at the northern end of the River.
When we returned to St Just in Roseland, there was Al in ‘Little Jim’; he very smartly used his yuloh to come alongside. We had a happy reunion and chatted for two-and-quarter hours before he took his boat to a slightly more protected anchorage within the Creek. We had arranged to use channel 77 at 0800 tomorrow.
Having eaten, washed and shaved I began typing this log and I’m hoping the wind will die down so that I’ll have a good sleep before tomorrow. The morning’s forecast is for much of the same – strong west to northwest winds and heavy showers.
Saturday’s forecast was variable becoming SW 3/4 increasing 5 or 6, heavy showers, good visibility, occasionally moderate. As I had breakfast while anchored at St Mawes I admired the scenery; seaward the colours were magical with huge white clouds reflected in an undulating mirror sea. I set sail for the River Fal and as ‘Faith’ neared the entrance to St Just Creek a swish black launch headed towards us and her skipper shouted, “You have a very distinctive boat,” to which I replied, “She is a bit different.” And that’s what I love about Paradox.
Changing course to the west I made a beeline for the lee, south of Restrongate Creek where tall trees kept the wind at bay, and there set the anchor. A sleek ‘Firebird’ catamaran lay quietly at her mooring a cable to the north and to the south were hundreds of boats tethered to the Mylor trots.
While having lunch a blue ‘Cruz’ drew alongside and Richard and Mark of the Dinghy Cruising Association introduced themselves. Later I observed two more dinghies flying the distinctive blue white and yellow pennant of the DCA. One was large varnished clinker boat with a high peeked lugsail and mizzen, the other was similar to a small Drascombe open boat.
At 1420 I broke out the anchor and hoisted sail with only 2 panels and in the strong wind we made 3.7 knots with an angle of heel of 20 degrees while on the wind. After an hour and a half I returned to nearly the identical spot in the lee of the trees. Later that evening after dinner and ablutions I discovered the laptop computer only had 18% battery power and therefore I could not write up the daily log. Before nightfall I was privileged to see the most beautiful double rainbow while around the boat cormorants or shags were catching their evening meal of fish. The fish were so abundant, shoals of them were breaking surface in a frenzy, presumably because a predator was after them.
Just before dusk the trip boat the, ‘Enterprise’ passed within a few feet while blasting out piped music; she was taking a party of holiday makers up the River to an inn, the name I cannot recall, but probably it was ‘The Anchor’. (Nearly all pubs by rivers have that name.)
In contrast to the unwelcome noise from the ‘Enterprise’ the quiet of the night was a joy, and I had a peaceful sleep.
Monday, 9th
The weather forecast predicted the wind would be stronger than yesterday, following the same pattern with heavy showers.
By 0730 we were underway and I cleaned the mud off the Danforth anchor, but in so doing I managed to get some rather large dollops on my sleeves, which later on dried and almost disappeared. Almost an hour after leaving the anchorage I set the anchor again before beaching on the shingle at St Just in Roseland. I took the laptop and mobile phone to Pasco’s Yard where Julian let me put them on charge. When anchored a few yards out after the shore escapade that included getting water and disposing the rubbish, a Hartley 14 came alongside with a crew of two; the helmsman introduced himself as Alan and he reminded me he had sent me an email in which he said he hoped to meet me at the DCA rally.
While anchored for lunch I checked the wiring on the solar panel and I found I had wired it incorrectly which accounted for the fact that the ship’s battery was low. After rectifying the fault the charger sprang into life.
At 1230 I set saile and followed several of the DCA dinghies bound for the sandy beach at the entrance to Mylor Creek. It was pretty boisterous with breakers brought about by the force 4 or 5 wind, maybe more; therefore I was not surprised when nearly all the boats returned and one crew wished my good luck. Outside in fairway ‘Faith’ came into her own having only 3 panels of sail she was sailing at 2.5 knots almost into the eye of the wind. Along the western shore by Restrongate and Loe Beach the sailing was exciting. There the water was smooth and the wind had increased causing ‘Faith’ to touch 5 knots while reaching. She gave a very comforting feel with no anxiety as she heeled between 20 and 30 degrees. I had the time of my life reaching and beating over and over again before sailing to the narrows at the northern end of the River.
When we returned to St Just in Roseland, there was Al in ‘Little Jim’; he very smartly used his yuloh to come alongside. We had a happy reunion and chatted for two-and-quarter hours before he took his boat to a slightly more protected anchorage within the Creek. We had arranged to use channel 77 at 0800 tomorrow.
Having eaten, washed and shaved I began typing this log and I’m hoping the wind will die down so that I’ll have a good sleep before tomorrow. The morning’s forecast is for much of the same – strong west to northwest winds and heavy showers.
Saturday, July 07, 2007
St Mawes
High water at Falmouth was at 1057 BST which meant I could launch ‘Faith’ at 0815 from the pebbly beach at St Just in Roseland. Everything went to plan and that was partly due to the fact there was hardly any wind, but there was sufficient to allow me to sail out of the creek into the River Fal where the wind freshened a little from the North West. That was ideal for a sail to Helford River, about 3 nautical miles from Pendennis Point
As ‘Faith’ sailed across Falmouth Bay on a fine reach I enjoyed looking at scenery; to the north there were some white beaches and behind them large buildings, including a prominent hotel, and to the south there were two ships at anchor laying side by side while transferring their cargo. Before I arrived off the entrance to the Helford River both ships got under way; the smaller black hulled vessel with a white superstructure crossed ahead in search of an anchorage. I was impressed by the way that whoever was in charge of the vessel carefully considered my slow progress and patiently waited until I was well clear before going astern to set the anchor.
The weather was almost perfect with white clouds set against an azure sky. ‘Faith’ sailed mostly unattended on her course towards Helford where the wind petered out giving me an opportunity to try the yuloh. There was no way I could get into the Helford River, as the ebb was on the run; I therefore turned the boat towards Falmouth with the prospect of playing with the sail to make the best of the fickle light wind. I had never before sailed close to the shore of Falmouth Bay and as the wind came in from the North West I took the opportunity. By then hundreds of yachts were sailing towards Helford from Falmouth and nearby there were many Pico dinghies from Bob Warren’s Sailing School practising their capsize drill in the lee of the cliffs.
When I arrived back at Pendennis Point the ebb was on the run and making into the Fal Estuary was hard going because the wind was negligible. I wondered if I would be able to pass to the north of Black Rock Beacon, which is an enormous monument with two black balls on the top, marking the spot of the infamous rock right in the middle of the entrance to the Fal.
I spent three hours trying to make progress northwards against the wind and the ebb tide; in the end I gave up and ran for St Mawes where I anchored in 15 feet of water to the east of the granite Castle. Setting the anchor was OK, but I had to make sure I was well away from three other yachts at anchor and as I tried rolling in the sail it did not go perfectly so the end of the boom went into the water, but I dropped the anchor astern and moved it forwards before sorting out the mess with the rig.
‘Faith’ is such an unusual boat she causes people to come and have a look; one such person, with the name of Jason, was intrigued with her. He spent a full half hour alongside on a fact-finding mission. He had a large Westerly yacht that he renovated after she had sunk.
As I type this log ‘Faith’ is sheltered from the North wind, but she is near the fairway that the St Mawes Ferry uses and every half hour I’m subjected to the buffeting of her wash and there are numerous runabouts going to and fro, some deliberately come close for the fun of it. I guess my night here will not be very quiet, as it is a Saturday which most probably means there will be a lot of activity well into the early hours of the morning.
As ‘Faith’ sailed across Falmouth Bay on a fine reach I enjoyed looking at scenery; to the north there were some white beaches and behind them large buildings, including a prominent hotel, and to the south there were two ships at anchor laying side by side while transferring their cargo. Before I arrived off the entrance to the Helford River both ships got under way; the smaller black hulled vessel with a white superstructure crossed ahead in search of an anchorage. I was impressed by the way that whoever was in charge of the vessel carefully considered my slow progress and patiently waited until I was well clear before going astern to set the anchor.
The weather was almost perfect with white clouds set against an azure sky. ‘Faith’ sailed mostly unattended on her course towards Helford where the wind petered out giving me an opportunity to try the yuloh. There was no way I could get into the Helford River, as the ebb was on the run; I therefore turned the boat towards Falmouth with the prospect of playing with the sail to make the best of the fickle light wind. I had never before sailed close to the shore of Falmouth Bay and as the wind came in from the North West I took the opportunity. By then hundreds of yachts were sailing towards Helford from Falmouth and nearby there were many Pico dinghies from Bob Warren’s Sailing School practising their capsize drill in the lee of the cliffs.
When I arrived back at Pendennis Point the ebb was on the run and making into the Fal Estuary was hard going because the wind was negligible. I wondered if I would be able to pass to the north of Black Rock Beacon, which is an enormous monument with two black balls on the top, marking the spot of the infamous rock right in the middle of the entrance to the Fal.
I spent three hours trying to make progress northwards against the wind and the ebb tide; in the end I gave up and ran for St Mawes where I anchored in 15 feet of water to the east of the granite Castle. Setting the anchor was OK, but I had to make sure I was well away from three other yachts at anchor and as I tried rolling in the sail it did not go perfectly so the end of the boom went into the water, but I dropped the anchor astern and moved it forwards before sorting out the mess with the rig.
‘Faith’ is such an unusual boat she causes people to come and have a look; one such person, with the name of Jason, was intrigued with her. He spent a full half hour alongside on a fact-finding mission. He had a large Westerly yacht that he renovated after she had sunk.
As I type this log ‘Faith’ is sheltered from the North wind, but she is near the fairway that the St Mawes Ferry uses and every half hour I’m subjected to the buffeting of her wash and there are numerous runabouts going to and fro, some deliberately come close for the fun of it. I guess my night here will not be very quiet, as it is a Saturday which most probably means there will be a lot of activity well into the early hours of the morning.
Friday, July 06, 2007
St Just in Roseland
Although it was a howling gale I left home at 0515 for the West Country, reliant upon my TomTom road navigator which took me almost to the destination, but lead me up the creek! Not the one I wanted. The road became nothing more than a horse track that ended ta farm with a large driveway. The owner was very friendly and gave me instructions for finding St Just in Roseland where I arrived at 1415. It was much as I remembered it three years ago when I sailed into St Just Creek. There’s a delightful village church and a narrow winding lane leading to the pebbly beach where I’m hoping I’ll be able to launch ‘Faith’ on the late morning tide tomorrow.
On arrival I introduced myself to Julian who runs Pasco’s Boat Yard. He gave me permission to leave my car and trailer among a few laid up yachts. He let me use his freshwater hose to top up the water ballast. The wind continued to blow at gale force from the west directly into St Just Creek where I’m ready to spend the night after a good walk.
At the time of making up this log there is no sign of any other DCA sailors, but the NW Section’s holiday meeting is not due to start until tomorrow, and I guess most of them work for a living. It will take them a good time to travel south and set up camp. Maybe they’ll brave the gale which is due to moderate tomorrow and further still on Sunday.
On arrival I introduced myself to Julian who runs Pasco’s Boat Yard. He gave me permission to leave my car and trailer among a few laid up yachts. He let me use his freshwater hose to top up the water ballast. The wind continued to blow at gale force from the west directly into St Just Creek where I’m ready to spend the night after a good walk.
At the time of making up this log there is no sign of any other DCA sailors, but the NW Section’s holiday meeting is not due to start until tomorrow, and I guess most of them work for a living. It will take them a good time to travel south and set up camp. Maybe they’ll brave the gale which is due to moderate tomorrow and further still on Sunday.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Improving Weather?
It’s been a very long wait through most of June and into July for signs of improving weather. The Met Office confirmed that June was the wettest ever since recordings began; so maybe what remains of July will be mostly sunny. I can only hope this will be the case and with this glimmer of hope I’ll be setting off by road on the morning of Friday, 6th June for the trek to the West Country – most probably to St Just in Roseland to link up with the DCA NW group’s holiday meeting.
The forecast is as follows:
Lyme Regis to Lands End including Isles of Scilly
Issued by the Met Office at 1800 UTC on Thursday 05 July 2007
24 hour forecast:
Wind - West or southwest 6 to gale 8 decreasing 4 or 5.
Weather - Rain at first.
Visibility - Moderate or poor becoming good.
Sea State - Rough.
Outlook for the following 24 hours:
Wind - West or southwest 4 or 5 becoming variable 3 or less.
Weather - Fair.
Visibility - Good.
Sea State - Rough becoming slight or moderate.
The forecast is as follows:
Lyme Regis to Lands End including Isles of Scilly
Issued by the Met Office at 1800 UTC on Thursday 05 July 2007
24 hour forecast:
Wind - West or southwest 6 to gale 8 decreasing 4 or 5.
Weather - Rain at first.
Visibility - Moderate or poor becoming good.
Sea State - Rough.
Outlook for the following 24 hours:
Wind - West or southwest 4 or 5 becoming variable 3 or less.
Weather - Fair.
Visibility - Good.
Sea State - Rough becoming slight or moderate.
Monday, July 02, 2007
No Respite
The awful weather is unrelenting; there’s no respite - low after low bringing rain, heavy showers and strong winds with deceptive sunshine peeping through the clouds now and again. Wimbledon, strawberries and cream says it all!
Here’s the forecast for the next 48 hours:
Lyme Regis to Lands End including Isles of Scilly
Issued by the Met Office at 1800 UTC on Monday 02 July 2007
24 hour forecast:
Wind - Southwest veering west 5 or 6, occasionally 7, decreasing 4 for a time.
Weather - Rain or showers.
Visibility - Moderate or good.
Sea State - Moderate or rough.
Outlook for the following 24 hours:
Wind - Southwest 5 or 6, occasionally 7.
Weather - Showers.
Visibility - Mainly good.
Sea State - Moderate or rough.
My friend Richard sailing his 40’ yacht with two crew members to help him is finding the going at sea quite challenging as he heads for the Channel Islands from the Solent. I guess me in my 14’ boat would find it much more challenging on the open water, especially as my course from Exmouth to Dartmouth and beyond would be into the wind; therefore the postponement of my West Country cruise continues until more favourable conditions arise.
Here’s the forecast for the next 48 hours:
Lyme Regis to Lands End including Isles of Scilly
Issued by the Met Office at 1800 UTC on Monday 02 July 2007
24 hour forecast:
Wind - Southwest veering west 5 or 6, occasionally 7, decreasing 4 for a time.
Weather - Rain or showers.
Visibility - Moderate or good.
Sea State - Moderate or rough.
Outlook for the following 24 hours:
Wind - Southwest 5 or 6, occasionally 7.
Weather - Showers.
Visibility - Mainly good.
Sea State - Moderate or rough.
My friend Richard sailing his 40’ yacht with two crew members to help him is finding the going at sea quite challenging as he heads for the Channel Islands from the Solent. I guess me in my 14’ boat would find it much more challenging on the open water, especially as my course from Exmouth to Dartmouth and beyond would be into the wind; therefore the postponement of my West Country cruise continues until more favourable conditions arise.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Postponed Start
The weather forecaster said this morning that the outlook remains unsettled, and having consulted the weather charts for the next few days I’ve postponed the start of my cruise in ‘Faith’ until next Sunday or Monday, i.e., 1st and 2nd July.
I’ll resume the ‘blog’ around that time, or when the boat is on the water at the start of the proposed cruise.
I’ll resume the ‘blog’ around that time, or when the boat is on the water at the start of the proposed cruise.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Decisions
Decisions, decisions ……….. To go or not to go?
Here’s the Inshore Waters Forecast for Wednesday, 27th June between Lyme Regis and Lands End, including the Isles of Scilly.
Wind - West or northwest 4 or 5, occasionally 6.
Weather - Showers.
Visibility - Good.
Sea State - Slight or moderate, occasionally rough in west at first.
Over the coming weekend, a new low will pass over the British Isles, but I am hopeful the Azores High will move slowly to the north over the next week or so. If this turns out to be the case, the weather should improve.
My final decision whether to set off for Brixham on Wednesday morning will be taken after the early Shipping Forecast.
Here’s the Inshore Waters Forecast for Wednesday, 27th June between Lyme Regis and Lands End, including the Isles of Scilly.
Wind - West or northwest 4 or 5, occasionally 6.
Weather - Showers.
Visibility - Good.
Sea State - Slight or moderate, occasionally rough in west at first.
Over the coming weekend, a new low will pass over the British Isles, but I am hopeful the Azores High will move slowly to the north over the next week or so. If this turns out to be the case, the weather should improve.
My final decision whether to set off for Brixham on Wednesday morning will be taken after the early Shipping Forecast.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Best Laid Plans
“The best-laid plans o’ mice an’ men
Gang aft a-gley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain
For promised joy.”
Those are the words of Robert Burns in a poem ‘To a Mouse’, but what truth there is in his words! I’m not over keen on accepting the truth that events beyond our control, indeed fashion what happens to us. On the other hand, as I believe in a God who is Sovereign I am happy that He controls all things, including the weather. I can accept that what He determines is right – that’s not a belief in ‘fate’, but in providence.
Because of the weather, yet another day must pass before I can embark upon the ‘planned’ cruise westward from Exmouth, and, as there has been a delay, I would consider launching at Brixham, since it is that much closer to Dartmouth, the first destination for which I am aiming. Meanwhile, Richard, the sailing friend who also wants to make it to Dartmouth in his 40’ classic yacht is port bound in Dover.
Robbie Burns suggests that those who make plans best accept that they may reap pain, rather than the promised joy expected. I have learned to accept the truth that when sailing for ‘pleasure’, so often pain is experienced instead. Why then do I do it? The joy outweighs the pain, like that of a mother when she has her newborn child.
The Inshore Forecast
Lyme Regis to Lands End including Isles of Scilly
Issued by the Met Office at 1800 UTC on Monday 25 June 2007 24 hour forecast:Wind - Northwest 6 to gale 8 decreasing 4 or 5, occasionally 6. Weather - Rain then squally showers, becoming mainly fair later. Visibility - Moderate or good. Sea State - Moderate or rough, but very rough west of Lands End at first. Outlook for the following 24 hours:Wind - Northwest backing west or southwest 4 or 5, occasionally 6. Weather - Showers. Visibility - Good. Sea State - Moderate or rough
Gang aft a-gley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain
For promised joy.”
Those are the words of Robert Burns in a poem ‘To a Mouse’, but what truth there is in his words! I’m not over keen on accepting the truth that events beyond our control, indeed fashion what happens to us. On the other hand, as I believe in a God who is Sovereign I am happy that He controls all things, including the weather. I can accept that what He determines is right – that’s not a belief in ‘fate’, but in providence.
Because of the weather, yet another day must pass before I can embark upon the ‘planned’ cruise westward from Exmouth, and, as there has been a delay, I would consider launching at Brixham, since it is that much closer to Dartmouth, the first destination for which I am aiming. Meanwhile, Richard, the sailing friend who also wants to make it to Dartmouth in his 40’ classic yacht is port bound in Dover.
Robbie Burns suggests that those who make plans best accept that they may reap pain, rather than the promised joy expected. I have learned to accept the truth that when sailing for ‘pleasure’, so often pain is experienced instead. Why then do I do it? The joy outweighs the pain, like that of a mother when she has her newborn child.
The Inshore Forecast
Lyme Regis to Lands End including Isles of Scilly
Issued by the Met Office at 1800 UTC on Monday 25 June 2007 24 hour forecast:Wind - Northwest 6 to gale 8 decreasing 4 or 5, occasionally 6. Weather - Rain then squally showers, becoming mainly fair later. Visibility - Moderate or good. Sea State - Moderate or rough, but very rough west of Lands End at first. Outlook for the following 24 hours:Wind - Northwest backing west or southwest 4 or 5, occasionally 6. Weather - Showers. Visibility - Good. Sea State - Moderate or rough
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Prudence
Having taken a year and a half to build ‘Faith’, my Paradox micro-sailboat, and having tried her out on the River Crouch in various wind strengths I’m raring to go!
I hoped to make a start at a month’s cruise on Monday, 25th June by taking the boat on her trailer to Exmouth in Devon and from there to attempt a short cruise to Dartmouth and back before progressing further west, either by road or at sea. However, Prudence calls for a delay in the start because of an adverse weather forecast. Here’s the Inshore Forecast:
Lyme Regis to Lands End including Isles of Scilly
Issued by the Met Office at 1800 UTC on Sunday 24 June 2007
24 hour forecast:
Wind - Northwest, backing west for a time, 4 or 5, occasionally 6, increasing 6 to gale 8 later.
Weather - Rain or showers.
Visibility - Moderate or good, occasionally poor.
Sea State - Slight or moderate, increasing moderate or rough later.
Outlook for the following 24 hours:
Wind - Northwest 5 to 7, occasionally gale 8, decreasing 4 or 5.
Weather - Rain or showers.
Visibility - Moderate or good.
Sea State - Moderate or rough.
This would call for a start by road on Wednesday, 27th when the main series of ‘lows’ will have passed to the north east, but I’ll review the situation on Tuesday, 26th.
If you the reader are disappointed, you can imagine my feelings, and yet a delay of one, two or perhaps three days when seen in perspective is insignificant.
I hoped to make a start at a month’s cruise on Monday, 25th June by taking the boat on her trailer to Exmouth in Devon and from there to attempt a short cruise to Dartmouth and back before progressing further west, either by road or at sea. However, Prudence calls for a delay in the start because of an adverse weather forecast. Here’s the Inshore Forecast:
Lyme Regis to Lands End including Isles of Scilly
Issued by the Met Office at 1800 UTC on Sunday 24 June 2007
24 hour forecast:
Wind - Northwest, backing west for a time, 4 or 5, occasionally 6, increasing 6 to gale 8 later.
Weather - Rain or showers.
Visibility - Moderate or good, occasionally poor.
Sea State - Slight or moderate, increasing moderate or rough later.
Outlook for the following 24 hours:
Wind - Northwest 5 to 7, occasionally gale 8, decreasing 4 or 5.
Weather - Rain or showers.
Visibility - Moderate or good.
Sea State - Moderate or rough.
This would call for a start by road on Wednesday, 27th when the main series of ‘lows’ will have passed to the north east, but I’ll review the situation on Tuesday, 26th.
If you the reader are disappointed, you can imagine my feelings, and yet a delay of one, two or perhaps three days when seen in perspective is insignificant.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Photos of 'Faith' afloat
Some visitors to my blog have asked to see photos of 'Faith' on the water. Before I embarked on 'sea trials' I launched the boat at Burnham Marina where I took photos of her moored to a pontoon.
You can see two photos by visiting http://www.smallsailboats.co.uk/paradox/build5.htm which is a page at my Paradox web site.
Bill.
You can see two photos by visiting http://www.smallsailboats.co.uk/paradox/build5.htm which is a page at my Paradox web site.
Bill.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Back Home
13th June
I woke early to one of those clear sunny days with hardly a zephyr. As I ate breakfast I thought through the procedure of hauling the boat out of the water. I would lower the trailer by hand almost to the water’s edge where I would secure it with chocks. At the front support I would attach a strong piece of rope for lowering the trailer into the water by using the ball hitch of the car; this system would allow the trailer to be immersed with the mudguards covered so that ‘Faith’ could be floated above the trailer while being winched forward. My daughter would hold the boat steady as I drove the car slowly up the slip.
All this worked perfectly. Had I attached guide posts to the trailer I could have done it without the help of my daughter.
When the boat was home I considered what next to do for improving a few things before the ‘proper’ cruise in the West Country begins perhaps on 25th or 26th June. Exmouth would be a suitable departure port for Dartmouth where I would hope to meet my friend aboard his 40’ classic sail training yacht.
I’ll recommence the daily log as soon as the boat is on the water again.
I woke early to one of those clear sunny days with hardly a zephyr. As I ate breakfast I thought through the procedure of hauling the boat out of the water. I would lower the trailer by hand almost to the water’s edge where I would secure it with chocks. At the front support I would attach a strong piece of rope for lowering the trailer into the water by using the ball hitch of the car; this system would allow the trailer to be immersed with the mudguards covered so that ‘Faith’ could be floated above the trailer while being winched forward. My daughter would hold the boat steady as I drove the car slowly up the slip.
All this worked perfectly. Had I attached guide posts to the trailer I could have done it without the help of my daughter.
When the boat was home I considered what next to do for improving a few things before the ‘proper’ cruise in the West Country begins perhaps on 25th or 26th June. Exmouth would be a suitable departure port for Dartmouth where I would hope to meet my friend aboard his 40’ classic sail training yacht.
I’ll recommence the daily log as soon as the boat is on the water again.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
New Lessons
Tuesday, 12th June
The 0520 Shipping Forecast for Thames predicted SW 3/4, occasionally 5, with fog patches, showers and occasionally very poor visibility. In the event, that was not a bad forecast for having a bash at reaching the Walton Backwaters. I needed to make 4 knots to ensure I would arrive at Stone Banks off Naze Point before the flood tide would sweep me towards Clacton; furthermore the long range forecast gave a South Westerly 6 for the 13th June when I planned to return to Burnham. A delay hanging around at the Backwaters would not give me the time I needed for personal things that have to be done before I take ‘Faith’ to the West Country later in the month.
As I had not fully tested ‘Faith’ in strong winds I decided it would be more profitable and more pleasant to sail against the SW4 or 5 on the River Crouch to Fambridge, but conditions were entirely different to those of yesterday. Initially the wind was SW 2 which was ideal for tacking through the moored yachts at Burnham. Everything went flawlessly and it was great fun sailing between the yachts, but as we neared Creeksea the wind increased and the tide strengthened which caused short steep breaking waves. ‘Faith’ was over-canvassed as she hobby-horsed without making a great deal of way. At first, attempts at tacking in those conditions were not always successful, but I soon discovered I needed to free the sheet to allow the bow to pay off, especially when changing to the port tack because the sail is mounted on the port side of the mast.
I soon learnt to reef smartly so as not to be over-pressed. All in all, I learnt a great deal about handling the boat and anchoring. I discovered I needed to raise the rudder before anchoring by the stern to prevent the rode from snagging the rudder; in force 3 I found it was necessary to reef the sail when going to windward; in choppy conditions I found I needed to sail freer. Generally, ‘Faith’ moved faster when the sheet was not pinned in.
My day had plenty of excitement as I sailed many different courses with variations of sail area. The fog did not materialize; instead there was sun for most of the day. For lunch I anchored off Cliff Reach then I had a snooze. It was very pleasant at the prettiest spot on the River Crouch. I noticed how badly the red clay cliff had eroded in the last couple of years. Suitably refreshed, it was time for more sailing before returning to Burnham Marina. I wanted to while away the time from 1500 until 1700 when it would be low water to make it ideal for sailing in the marina. There would be less wind because the banks of the marina would bring about a lee from the South West wind.
During those 3 hours I thoroughly enjoyed trying all sorts of manoeuvre before making my attempt at getting into the marina. As it turned out, everything was very favourable. I could steer ‘Faith’ on a reach with only two panels of the sail as I made for a pontoon near the slipway. There I nosed the boat to the pontoon so that she almost paused in stays, but it was not perfect; she gently hit the floating platform bow on, then started to fall back, but I just had time to step on the pontoon to make her secure with a painter.
I’m not overly keen on Marinas, but they do have their advantages: a shower and toilets for example, and electricity for charging my laptop computer. I can charge it from the ship’s battery, but mains power does it more quickly.
Tomorrow morning I’m hoping to take ‘Faith’ out of the water when my daughter will bring my car she has been using while I’ve been afloat; then I’ll see if I can retrieve the boat.
The 0520 Shipping Forecast for Thames predicted SW 3/4, occasionally 5, with fog patches, showers and occasionally very poor visibility. In the event, that was not a bad forecast for having a bash at reaching the Walton Backwaters. I needed to make 4 knots to ensure I would arrive at Stone Banks off Naze Point before the flood tide would sweep me towards Clacton; furthermore the long range forecast gave a South Westerly 6 for the 13th June when I planned to return to Burnham. A delay hanging around at the Backwaters would not give me the time I needed for personal things that have to be done before I take ‘Faith’ to the West Country later in the month.
As I had not fully tested ‘Faith’ in strong winds I decided it would be more profitable and more pleasant to sail against the SW4 or 5 on the River Crouch to Fambridge, but conditions were entirely different to those of yesterday. Initially the wind was SW 2 which was ideal for tacking through the moored yachts at Burnham. Everything went flawlessly and it was great fun sailing between the yachts, but as we neared Creeksea the wind increased and the tide strengthened which caused short steep breaking waves. ‘Faith’ was over-canvassed as she hobby-horsed without making a great deal of way. At first, attempts at tacking in those conditions were not always successful, but I soon discovered I needed to free the sheet to allow the bow to pay off, especially when changing to the port tack because the sail is mounted on the port side of the mast.
I soon learnt to reef smartly so as not to be over-pressed. All in all, I learnt a great deal about handling the boat and anchoring. I discovered I needed to raise the rudder before anchoring by the stern to prevent the rode from snagging the rudder; in force 3 I found it was necessary to reef the sail when going to windward; in choppy conditions I found I needed to sail freer. Generally, ‘Faith’ moved faster when the sheet was not pinned in.
My day had plenty of excitement as I sailed many different courses with variations of sail area. The fog did not materialize; instead there was sun for most of the day. For lunch I anchored off Cliff Reach then I had a snooze. It was very pleasant at the prettiest spot on the River Crouch. I noticed how badly the red clay cliff had eroded in the last couple of years. Suitably refreshed, it was time for more sailing before returning to Burnham Marina. I wanted to while away the time from 1500 until 1700 when it would be low water to make it ideal for sailing in the marina. There would be less wind because the banks of the marina would bring about a lee from the South West wind.
During those 3 hours I thoroughly enjoyed trying all sorts of manoeuvre before making my attempt at getting into the marina. As it turned out, everything was very favourable. I could steer ‘Faith’ on a reach with only two panels of the sail as I made for a pontoon near the slipway. There I nosed the boat to the pontoon so that she almost paused in stays, but it was not perfect; she gently hit the floating platform bow on, then started to fall back, but I just had time to step on the pontoon to make her secure with a painter.
I’m not overly keen on Marinas, but they do have their advantages: a shower and toilets for example, and electricity for charging my laptop computer. I can charge it from the ship’s battery, but mains power does it more quickly.
Tomorrow morning I’m hoping to take ‘Faith’ out of the water when my daughter will bring my car she has been using while I’ve been afloat; then I’ll see if I can retrieve the boat.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Testing Everything
This morning there was a bit of mist when I set off under sail from the marina berth at 0730. High water was at 0929, and with a light NE wind I made course up the river towards Fambridge. On the way I tried sailing ‘Faith’ on all points and I practiced reefing and using the yuloh. At first I didn’t have much success at using the yuloh, but on my second attempt it all came together and I managed about a quarter of a knot.
Just short of Fambridge drizzle came in which provided a good opportunity for testing the boat with her hatch closed. The forward window slightly fogged up, but I was snug and dry as the boat made her way east towards Burnham. Sailing through the trots was a drifting match, because there was little wind. Once past the Royal Corinthian Yacht Club the wind perked up. What was so pleasing was the boat’s ability to sail on any course for many minutes without me having to touch the steering line. Now I know that Al was telling the truth about having plenty of time to read books while underway.
After eventually reaching the Inner Crouch Buoy I turned ‘Faith’ to the west, this time to anchor on the west side of the River Roach near the entrance. I set the anchor at 1740 and although the wind sprang up from the south ‘Faith’ lay nicely to the incoming tide.
I took the opportunity to try out the pressure cooker which worked well, by providing me with well cooked potatoes, runner beans and carrots which I ate with cold sardines, followed by my favourite yoghurt. After clearing up I planned the navigation Tuesday, 12th June - that’s if the wind will have any southing to it.
As I type this log I do so to the accompaniment of skylarks singing chirpy songs, although the sun has not shone all day.
Maybe I’ll have a comfortable night.
Just short of Fambridge drizzle came in which provided a good opportunity for testing the boat with her hatch closed. The forward window slightly fogged up, but I was snug and dry as the boat made her way east towards Burnham. Sailing through the trots was a drifting match, because there was little wind. Once past the Royal Corinthian Yacht Club the wind perked up. What was so pleasing was the boat’s ability to sail on any course for many minutes without me having to touch the steering line. Now I know that Al was telling the truth about having plenty of time to read books while underway.
After eventually reaching the Inner Crouch Buoy I turned ‘Faith’ to the west, this time to anchor on the west side of the River Roach near the entrance. I set the anchor at 1740 and although the wind sprang up from the south ‘Faith’ lay nicely to the incoming tide.
I took the opportunity to try out the pressure cooker which worked well, by providing me with well cooked potatoes, runner beans and carrots which I ate with cold sardines, followed by my favourite yoghurt. After clearing up I planned the navigation Tuesday, 12th June - that’s if the wind will have any southing to it.
As I type this log I do so to the accompaniment of skylarks singing chirpy songs, although the sun has not shone all day.
Maybe I’ll have a comfortable night.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Faith Afloat
Hi All,
‘Faith’ was launched today at Burnham Marina, Essex around 1900. It was not the most graceful of launches for a maiden event, but with a little persuasion by jigging the boat she slowly slid off her trailer.
The yuloh was not entirely a success, as the side wind made progress in the direction I wanted to go difficult, but I ended up where the wind took me, alongside the old Harbour Master launch. Maybe I need to practice handling the yuloh before I can learn to generate sufficient power for forward motion.
I first prepared a meal before filling up the water ballast tanks which made the boat much more stable.
As I write this, the first of my cruise logs, I have laid out my bed for the night. There’s just a light wind from the east, which may mean I’ll have a peaceful night.
Bill.
‘Faith’ was launched today at Burnham Marina, Essex around 1900. It was not the most graceful of launches for a maiden event, but with a little persuasion by jigging the boat she slowly slid off her trailer.
The yuloh was not entirely a success, as the side wind made progress in the direction I wanted to go difficult, but I ended up where the wind took me, alongside the old Harbour Master launch. Maybe I need to practice handling the yuloh before I can learn to generate sufficient power for forward motion.
I first prepared a meal before filling up the water ballast tanks which made the boat much more stable.
As I write this, the first of my cruise logs, I have laid out my bed for the night. There’s just a light wind from the east, which may mean I’ll have a peaceful night.
Bill.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Anticipation
After a long slog to windward the sailor is rewarded; he reaches his home port and he is snug and dry, although exhausted. There’s a great sense of achievement because the battle with nature’s forces has been won. The solo sailor is the victor, but he knows there may be a time when the sea will win. What would be his fate? Better to die at sea than in bed with the pain of old age. Nothing ventured, nothing gained has been his motto. Take the opportunity when it arises.
Building a boat with substance is very much like a battle with the elements. Take that bit of obstinate Douglas Fir with variable grain; planing it was a nightmare; first this way, then that, but what a joy when it was finished, gleaming in varnish while displaying gorgeous patterns revealing growth over the years into maturity. The yuloh for which it was destined comes alive when wriggling to and fro at the transom at the behest of the Captain. His tiny craft silently edges along quiet waters as fish break the surface and the undulating moon path snakes towards the wooded river’s bank.
So the builder sailor looks forward in anticipation of excitements and adventures as he and his creation join together upon the water for the first time. Does the Master launch and christen his Dream Ship in solitude away from prying eyes, or does he make a show of it by throwing a party and festooning his Pride and Joy with bunting? Who would he choose to pour Champaign over her bows while asking for a blessing upon all who sail in her?
Anticipation is the name of the game. I have all but finished my Paradox micro-sailboat; she only needs a coat of antifouling before entering her element for which she craves, the environ where sea and sky caress one another and horizons beckon - vast oceans leading to countless havens, magnificent vistas, exotic islands where pearls of riches may be found, even if they are the grains of sand sifted and refined by centuries old currents and the crashing sea waves.
With anticipation there comes a little anxiety; will ‘Faith’ meet what is expected of her and will all go well at the launching? Those are questions waiting for answers. Anon, until I can provide replies.
Building a boat with substance is very much like a battle with the elements. Take that bit of obstinate Douglas Fir with variable grain; planing it was a nightmare; first this way, then that, but what a joy when it was finished, gleaming in varnish while displaying gorgeous patterns revealing growth over the years into maturity. The yuloh for which it was destined comes alive when wriggling to and fro at the transom at the behest of the Captain. His tiny craft silently edges along quiet waters as fish break the surface and the undulating moon path snakes towards the wooded river’s bank.
So the builder sailor looks forward in anticipation of excitements and adventures as he and his creation join together upon the water for the first time. Does the Master launch and christen his Dream Ship in solitude away from prying eyes, or does he make a show of it by throwing a party and festooning his Pride and Joy with bunting? Who would he choose to pour Champaign over her bows while asking for a blessing upon all who sail in her?
Anticipation is the name of the game. I have all but finished my Paradox micro-sailboat; she only needs a coat of antifouling before entering her element for which she craves, the environ where sea and sky caress one another and horizons beckon - vast oceans leading to countless havens, magnificent vistas, exotic islands where pearls of riches may be found, even if they are the grains of sand sifted and refined by centuries old currents and the crashing sea waves.
With anticipation there comes a little anxiety; will ‘Faith’ meet what is expected of her and will all go well at the launching? Those are questions waiting for answers. Anon, until I can provide replies.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Surprises
Boat building is full of surprises. The biggest surprise is when the boat is finished! You don’t ever expect the time to come when you look around and there is nothing left to do, but sure enough if you persevere until the end, there she is sparkling in radiant new colours, the varnish is gleaming and she’s pristine. She looks at you and says “Well. Why are you waiting? Get me in the water now, because that’s where I am meant to be.” She adds, “That’s my destiny – adventures galore, excitement and fun, besides those horrible times when nothing goes well, the wind is contrary, it rains and the Cornflakes get spilt in the bilge.” But you know every nail, every plank and remember how strongly you built her. She’s not going to fall apart and she’s ready for any gale, while you optimistically hope for fair winds and fine weather. Lazy days are what you want; sailing with ease, a soldier’s wind and beauty in the sky and sea. When you arrive at harbour after a gorgeous day you step ashore and savour those fish and chips, Cornish pasties, Indian take-away. Life’s never been so good, although you’re in your seventies, feeling like sixteen.
Cruising is full of surprises. You plan your day, but other forces are at work. There’s the unexpected delay leaving Ramsgate harbour because the Ostend ferry is due in. Outside in the offing there’s a choppy sea over the banks and the speed you expected is not there. The wind changes direction so you’re left in the lee of the White Cliffs of Broadstairs and all this makes your ETA impossible, so the ebb tide joins in your adversity. Darkness arrives when you should be snug in Dover Harbour and ahead are all those Channel Ferries coming and going. Permission to enter the Harbour is delayed and you converse with the Harbour Control saying you have no engine; you’ll need to get in under yuloh power because there is no wind. “Stay where you are. Hold your station. The Harbour Control launch will tow you in.” You struggle at the yuloh as sweat pours off you brow to hold firm against the current. Those lights in transit are gradually slipping. There’s a sigh of relief as you spot the black shape of the launch with her red and white pilot lights. Then in seconds a line is brought through your bow fairlead and passed around the mast. You’re away like lightning while the bow wave foams. When you are two cables from the Town Beach you are cast adrift and you set your anchor with ample scope for the expected rise of tide. The crackling voice of the Pilot over the VHF informs you the charge for the tow was £20.00. You take solace by swigging a glass of fruit juice and set about preparing a late night meal.
It was a day of surprises, and may there be many more of them for those who love the sea and boats.
Cruising is full of surprises. You plan your day, but other forces are at work. There’s the unexpected delay leaving Ramsgate harbour because the Ostend ferry is due in. Outside in the offing there’s a choppy sea over the banks and the speed you expected is not there. The wind changes direction so you’re left in the lee of the White Cliffs of Broadstairs and all this makes your ETA impossible, so the ebb tide joins in your adversity. Darkness arrives when you should be snug in Dover Harbour and ahead are all those Channel Ferries coming and going. Permission to enter the Harbour is delayed and you converse with the Harbour Control saying you have no engine; you’ll need to get in under yuloh power because there is no wind. “Stay where you are. Hold your station. The Harbour Control launch will tow you in.” You struggle at the yuloh as sweat pours off you brow to hold firm against the current. Those lights in transit are gradually slipping. There’s a sigh of relief as you spot the black shape of the launch with her red and white pilot lights. Then in seconds a line is brought through your bow fairlead and passed around the mast. You’re away like lightning while the bow wave foams. When you are two cables from the Town Beach you are cast adrift and you set your anchor with ample scope for the expected rise of tide. The crackling voice of the Pilot over the VHF informs you the charge for the tow was £20.00. You take solace by swigging a glass of fruit juice and set about preparing a late night meal.
It was a day of surprises, and may there be many more of them for those who love the sea and boats.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Marathon
The London marathon is due to start on Sunday, 22 April 2007 with 56,500 runners hoping to make it to the finish. Some runners are deadly serious, wanting to finish in the top 10 of their male or female events, whereas others like Lloyd Scott will take days doing the impossible for raising cash for various charities. Lloyd was the one who ‘ran’ the marathon in a diving suit, and last year he was dressed in a suit of armour in the guise of St George who slew the dragon, but instead of killing the dragon he dragged his around the 26 mile course!
Those who build boats are a bit like contestants in a marathon. There are purists who want to achieve perfection by building a boat with a mirror-like finish, and there are others who simply want their boat to float, so as to get on the water as quickly as possible with the minimum of effort. Attitude brings a result; the deadly serious boat builder and the equally obsessive perfectionist marathon runner will study their craft to the full; they will utilize the tools of their trade, plan and practise every move before attempting the actual task.
I suppose the majority of amateur boat builders will be satisfied with a good working finish so as to provide a sound vessel for their enjoyment and satisfaction. These equate to most of the runners in the London marathon; they simply want to get around the course in a time that suits their level of fitness. If they raise the amount of cash they desire for their chosen charity they will be happy.
What category of builder am I? I’d like to think I am a perfectionist, but I know I can never reach that standard with my limited skill. All I can do is strive for perfection, while hoping to achieve a reasonable finish that will satisfy me. One thing I know, and that is building a Paradox micro-sailboat takes time and effort; she’s no ‘instant boat’. I need the patience and perseverance of the marathon runner if I am to finish the course.
Those who build boats are a bit like contestants in a marathon. There are purists who want to achieve perfection by building a boat with a mirror-like finish, and there are others who simply want their boat to float, so as to get on the water as quickly as possible with the minimum of effort. Attitude brings a result; the deadly serious boat builder and the equally obsessive perfectionist marathon runner will study their craft to the full; they will utilize the tools of their trade, plan and practise every move before attempting the actual task.
I suppose the majority of amateur boat builders will be satisfied with a good working finish so as to provide a sound vessel for their enjoyment and satisfaction. These equate to most of the runners in the London marathon; they simply want to get around the course in a time that suits their level of fitness. If they raise the amount of cash they desire for their chosen charity they will be happy.
What category of builder am I? I’d like to think I am a perfectionist, but I know I can never reach that standard with my limited skill. All I can do is strive for perfection, while hoping to achieve a reasonable finish that will satisfy me. One thing I know, and that is building a Paradox micro-sailboat takes time and effort; she’s no ‘instant boat’. I need the patience and perseverance of the marathon runner if I am to finish the course.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Resolve
Do I have the resolve to finish building my dream retirement sailing boat? I started building her in August, 2005; that’s a period of 1 ½ years, and yet the exterior needs encapsulating in fibreglass and the cabin top has to be built. If I’m fortunate to have suitable weather during the spring of 2007 I may finish her by late June. During the winter of 2006/7 I was unable to make any progress whatsoever. As could be expected, the weather was cold and wet - neither condition was conducive for boat building, especially when of necessity I have to do it outside in the elements. My garage where the boat is being stored is too small for me to build her under cover. Bearing in mind these facts, it’s no wonder I question my resolve. Will the boat ever be finished? Furthermore, my body has been feeling the effects of many years of use and there are times when any real physical effort is required I find it hard to bring it about. I’m reminded of the verse, ‘Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn; at the going down of the sun we shall remember them.’ I have not yet been totally condemned by aches and pains, but they do make themselves known on a daily basis. I’m also reminded of the long distance runner who has to pass through the pain barrier before he feels his pain no more; for him pain becomes the norm, the elixir until the race is finished, and more solemnly I remember the saying, ‘Old soldiers never die; they just fade away.’ The same goes for old sailors; they get swallowed up by the sea. Davy Jones is there with ever open arms at the bottom of the ocean.
Well, poor chap. He’s really in a bad way. Let’s get the violins out and play the dirge, ‘But where there’s life, there’s hope!’
I am looking forward to the spring; even now daffodils, crocuses, polyanthus, snowdrops and primroses are in bloom, due to the slightly warmer weather of late February. Each day the sun remains above the horizon for another 3 minutes; at that rate I’ll soon be wearing my Panama hat and Gucci sunglasses. The Water Board will be imposing a hosepipe ban and the grass will be burnt to a frazzle by the sun’s rays. With a forever high pressure system slap bang over the UK there’ll be no wind for sailing my gorgeous new Paradox and I’ll have to toil at the yuloh to make any progress. No, really, there is a bright future, even for me, if the Lord sees fit. The Western Approaches beckon and sirens of the Scilly Isles sing their irresistible melodies. Onward and upward, I must press on resolutely with great resolve!
Well, poor chap. He’s really in a bad way. Let’s get the violins out and play the dirge, ‘But where there’s life, there’s hope!’
I am looking forward to the spring; even now daffodils, crocuses, polyanthus, snowdrops and primroses are in bloom, due to the slightly warmer weather of late February. Each day the sun remains above the horizon for another 3 minutes; at that rate I’ll soon be wearing my Panama hat and Gucci sunglasses. The Water Board will be imposing a hosepipe ban and the grass will be burnt to a frazzle by the sun’s rays. With a forever high pressure system slap bang over the UK there’ll be no wind for sailing my gorgeous new Paradox and I’ll have to toil at the yuloh to make any progress. No, really, there is a bright future, even for me, if the Lord sees fit. The Western Approaches beckon and sirens of the Scilly Isles sing their irresistible melodies. Onward and upward, I must press on resolutely with great resolve!
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Odds and Ends
January for me can best be summed up as a time when little could be done towards making progress at building ‘Faith’; she’s a Paradox sailboat I have set my heart on. (I imagine sailing her in idyllic conditions on the open sea, perhaps on a cruise to the Scilly Isles, which is a beautiful archipelago in the Atlantic Ocean to the west of England’s Land’s End.) Days typical of this time of year bring fog, rain, sleet, and snow and last month was no exception which somewhat brought on a mood of listlessness. I must make a positive effort at changing my mindset so as to attend to those achievable ‘odds and ends’ unconstrained by climatic conditions. I could even boldly tackle ‘odds and sods’! Sods being those tricky jobs requiring ingenuity or sustained effort.
When building a boat awkward jobs always arise, but there is a tendency on my part to delay tackling them. This attitude is not a solution, because without addressing such issues the building project can not be completed.
While the weather is so uninspiring and restrictive I should put my mind and body into active mode for accomplishing tiny works such as attaching a strong rotating fitting to the outer end of the boom for the mainsheet and the topping line. I could strengthen the tack downhaul and I could make a box for stowing the kedge anchor. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t repair a small tear in the second-hand mainsail and why I shouldn’t make a large toggle for the rudder control line. I need to drill a larger hole in the rudder for a thicker and stronger support bolt. If I could really motivate myself, I might get around to reshaping the yuloh shaft so that it will fit snugly beside the cabin top. Although I have not yet made the cabin top, I know the dimensions; therefore it’s a matter of motivation. A day of warm sunshine might just be inspirational for me to tackle the job.
While I’m on the topic of ‘odds and ends’, perhaps I should be compiling a list of those things I could take aboard for making life afloat more enjoyable. I’m reading Charles Stock’s, ‘Sailing Just for Fun’ which is full of useful tips for the sailor of small boats. He recommends having a hot water bottle for those cold nights when sailing early or late in the season. Another of his ‘must haves’ is a toaster that can be put on the stove which adds a dimension to easily prepared food. I know there’s nothing better for restoring the soul after a hard passage than a toasted sardine sandwich with lashings of tomato sauce and plenty of melted butter!
When building a boat awkward jobs always arise, but there is a tendency on my part to delay tackling them. This attitude is not a solution, because without addressing such issues the building project can not be completed.
While the weather is so uninspiring and restrictive I should put my mind and body into active mode for accomplishing tiny works such as attaching a strong rotating fitting to the outer end of the boom for the mainsheet and the topping line. I could strengthen the tack downhaul and I could make a box for stowing the kedge anchor. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t repair a small tear in the second-hand mainsail and why I shouldn’t make a large toggle for the rudder control line. I need to drill a larger hole in the rudder for a thicker and stronger support bolt. If I could really motivate myself, I might get around to reshaping the yuloh shaft so that it will fit snugly beside the cabin top. Although I have not yet made the cabin top, I know the dimensions; therefore it’s a matter of motivation. A day of warm sunshine might just be inspirational for me to tackle the job.
While I’m on the topic of ‘odds and ends’, perhaps I should be compiling a list of those things I could take aboard for making life afloat more enjoyable. I’m reading Charles Stock’s, ‘Sailing Just for Fun’ which is full of useful tips for the sailor of small boats. He recommends having a hot water bottle for those cold nights when sailing early or late in the season. Another of his ‘must haves’ is a toaster that can be put on the stove which adds a dimension to easily prepared food. I know there’s nothing better for restoring the soul after a hard passage than a toasted sardine sandwich with lashings of tomato sauce and plenty of melted butter!
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Mistress
The archaic meaning of the word ‘mistress’ is a woman loved and courted by a man. Now many a boat has been named ‘Mistress’ and you can see why. Men may court and love their boats more than they do their real-life mistresses or their wives after the courting and the sound of wedding bells have ceased.
Back in the early nineteen-fifties Edward Allcard sailed his 34 ft wooden yacht, “Temptress” from New York to Plymouth, via Casablanca and Vigo, and if my memory serves me correctly, a beautiful stowaway revealed herself some days after his departure from New York. The tale of a hidden maiden aboard a yacht that was no more than 34 ft in length leads one to believe Edward was not entirely honest with his account. From memory, the story in English newspapers majored on the theme of a mistress who had no passport, no money, and was desperate to gain entrance to the UK. By her feminine charms Edward was bowled over, despite his superficial protestations, and instead of taking her back to New York, he willingly accepted her as a crew member.
Little of this may be accurate, but the theme of a link between mistresses and boats is certain. I for one know of the charms of the many boats I have owned, mostly small, and hence beautiful - if the saying, ‘Small is beautiful’ is true. My latest mistress is ‘Faith’; she’s a 14 micro-sailboat being built in my garage. Some would not describe her as being beautiful, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and to me she’s very beautiful and worthy of my adoration. I sense there is a major difference between ‘Faith’ and all my previous mistresses for I’m convinced she will be with me until my dying days. She has all I require of a sea maiden: cheap to keep, not too demanding and she knows how to handle stormy waters; when there’s a calm sea she’s patient and contented. She’ll look after and care for me until my need is no more.
Back in the early nineteen-fifties Edward Allcard sailed his 34 ft wooden yacht, “Temptress” from New York to Plymouth, via Casablanca and Vigo, and if my memory serves me correctly, a beautiful stowaway revealed herself some days after his departure from New York. The tale of a hidden maiden aboard a yacht that was no more than 34 ft in length leads one to believe Edward was not entirely honest with his account. From memory, the story in English newspapers majored on the theme of a mistress who had no passport, no money, and was desperate to gain entrance to the UK. By her feminine charms Edward was bowled over, despite his superficial protestations, and instead of taking her back to New York, he willingly accepted her as a crew member.
Little of this may be accurate, but the theme of a link between mistresses and boats is certain. I for one know of the charms of the many boats I have owned, mostly small, and hence beautiful - if the saying, ‘Small is beautiful’ is true. My latest mistress is ‘Faith’; she’s a 14 micro-sailboat being built in my garage. Some would not describe her as being beautiful, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and to me she’s very beautiful and worthy of my adoration. I sense there is a major difference between ‘Faith’ and all my previous mistresses for I’m convinced she will be with me until my dying days. She has all I require of a sea maiden: cheap to keep, not too demanding and she knows how to handle stormy waters; when there’s a calm sea she’s patient and contented. She’ll look after and care for me until my need is no more.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Parts you don’t see
Stonemasons of the past, like those who built St Paul’s cathedral, took enormous pride in their work. After a long apprenticeship attaining the skills of their trade, a master stonemason would have given them their papers certifying they had carried out their indentureship, with an endorsement that they had gained the experience to fit them as qualified stonemasons. So the skills and knowledge of the profession were passed from one generation to the next.
Stonemasons specializing in church buildings would probably have been devout Christians with a calling to serve their God by using their hands to glorify Him. Having such a powerful motivation, it’s not surprising that they carried out their carving with enormous care, even shaping ‘secret’ gargoyles only seen by God to the best of their ability. Unless the mason did his job well he could not be satisfied when engraving his particular identification mark into the stone, just as a silversmith, with pride, embosses his registered hallmark into the silverware he has created.
Boat builders of note are not ashamed to attach their trade symbol and an identification number to any vessel leaving their yard. Their very reputation is stamped into each vessel. They have a double motivation to make sure that boats crafted by them are sound, because it’s not just their reputation that’s at stake, but they also have a responsibility to ensure the vessel will not let the crew down.
While I am building my own small sailboat, I am very conscious of doing my best to make her fit for her purpose – that’s to build her soundly, and to construct her according to the designer’s plan. For the derivation of the greatest satisfaction I press myself to achieve the highest standard of craftsmanship of which I am capable, and, like the church stonemason, I want those parts not seen by the casual observer to be of that same quality as those parts readily seen. I am not seeking my own glory in any of this, nor can I truly say I am doing it for God’s glory, but those parts of the boat hidden from view must be done well for my own satisfaction, and also for an assurance to myself that all will be well when boat and I are tested by the sea.
Stonemasons specializing in church buildings would probably have been devout Christians with a calling to serve their God by using their hands to glorify Him. Having such a powerful motivation, it’s not surprising that they carried out their carving with enormous care, even shaping ‘secret’ gargoyles only seen by God to the best of their ability. Unless the mason did his job well he could not be satisfied when engraving his particular identification mark into the stone, just as a silversmith, with pride, embosses his registered hallmark into the silverware he has created.
Boat builders of note are not ashamed to attach their trade symbol and an identification number to any vessel leaving their yard. Their very reputation is stamped into each vessel. They have a double motivation to make sure that boats crafted by them are sound, because it’s not just their reputation that’s at stake, but they also have a responsibility to ensure the vessel will not let the crew down.
While I am building my own small sailboat, I am very conscious of doing my best to make her fit for her purpose – that’s to build her soundly, and to construct her according to the designer’s plan. For the derivation of the greatest satisfaction I press myself to achieve the highest standard of craftsmanship of which I am capable, and, like the church stonemason, I want those parts not seen by the casual observer to be of that same quality as those parts readily seen. I am not seeking my own glory in any of this, nor can I truly say I am doing it for God’s glory, but those parts of the boat hidden from view must be done well for my own satisfaction, and also for an assurance to myself that all will be well when boat and I are tested by the sea.
Monday, October 30, 2006
Comfort Afloat
Physical comfort is relative, but there can come a point when one is not at all comfortable. People will pay a lot to have comfort, and those who are in pain will make sacrifices to rid themselves of it so that they can have a measure of comfort.
What material comforts would you have aboard your ideal yacht? Standing headroom could be the most important requirement, but for some this would be well down on their list, because they would argue that most of the time when aboard their yachts they sit, rather than stand. In that case, comfortable seats would be their priority. When moving about the boat, being able to hang on to substantial hand rails or grips can add to the crew’s comfort and improve safety aboard. Any constraints restricting movement within a boat that can be removed will add greatly to the comfort of the crew - simple things like having floorboards that slope upwards either side of the cabin sole to compensate for the angle of heel when the boat is sailing to windward, and locating the galley near the centre of the yacht to reduce movement when in a seaway; and having a locker for the waterproof clothing at the entrance to the cabin so that wet items need not be taken into an area that should remain dry.
The Paradox sailboat that I am building is at the stage where the interior is being built and this subject of ‘comfort’ is high on my agenda. Although I shall not be have standing headroom, unless the hatch is open, I’m trying to make the boat as comfortable as possible. Perhaps a younger man would be more concerned about making his boat work with a minimum of comforts, maybe because of his limited budget or because he simply does not have the patience or time to make her more comfortable. For me, comfort is a priority, and therefore if I can build my tiny boat so as to be easy to operate with the minimum of effort, this will add greatly to my comfort. Fortunately, Paradox is well designed in the ergonomic sense; most items of ‘furniture’ within the cabin are just right, for example, the steering lines are at the correct height, so that little effort is required to hold them, and the transverse seat is at the exact height to enable the crew to see the horizon through 360 degrees, but there are touches a builder can add, such as providing a place for pots and pans so they can be within easy reach of the cook, and having pumped fresh water, rather than bottles with screw-on tops. I like the idea of being able to get at my crockery and cutlery without difficulty; therefore I have devised very simple racks for them within hand’s reach. I’ll be buying a comfortable waterproof cushion, similar to the sort provided with wheelchairs for their users who sit on them for long periods of time. I shall have mine, not just for sitting on, but for kneeling, especially when I’m preparing or cooking food at the galley. I’ve made a table that can be placed athwart the cabin for use when I’m seated on the transverse seat or when I’m lounging on the self-inflating mattress. This versatility means I’ll be able to use it as a navigation table, or for when I have a meal, or to support my computer, book etc.. My instruments, such as the compass, the echo sounder and the GPS, can be seen at a glance when I'm seated at the helmsman's seat.
Some boats are more comfortable at sea than others, and generally the comfortable ones are the heavy displacement craft, because their very heaviness cushions or reduces the effect waves have on the boat. For her length, Paradox is heavy, and the fact that she has a flat bottom lessens her tendency to roll - especially when sailing downwind, unlike narrow yachts with bulbous keels.
The fact that I’ll be able to operate my Paradox from inside the cabin when the weather is inclement, means I’ll be able to keep myself warm and dry, which will add greatly to my comfort. All in all, Paradox will be one of the most comfortable boats I will have had the pleasure of owning, although she’ll be my smallest 'proper' yacht.
What material comforts would you have aboard your ideal yacht? Standing headroom could be the most important requirement, but for some this would be well down on their list, because they would argue that most of the time when aboard their yachts they sit, rather than stand. In that case, comfortable seats would be their priority. When moving about the boat, being able to hang on to substantial hand rails or grips can add to the crew’s comfort and improve safety aboard. Any constraints restricting movement within a boat that can be removed will add greatly to the comfort of the crew - simple things like having floorboards that slope upwards either side of the cabin sole to compensate for the angle of heel when the boat is sailing to windward, and locating the galley near the centre of the yacht to reduce movement when in a seaway; and having a locker for the waterproof clothing at the entrance to the cabin so that wet items need not be taken into an area that should remain dry.
The Paradox sailboat that I am building is at the stage where the interior is being built and this subject of ‘comfort’ is high on my agenda. Although I shall not be have standing headroom, unless the hatch is open, I’m trying to make the boat as comfortable as possible. Perhaps a younger man would be more concerned about making his boat work with a minimum of comforts, maybe because of his limited budget or because he simply does not have the patience or time to make her more comfortable. For me, comfort is a priority, and therefore if I can build my tiny boat so as to be easy to operate with the minimum of effort, this will add greatly to my comfort. Fortunately, Paradox is well designed in the ergonomic sense; most items of ‘furniture’ within the cabin are just right, for example, the steering lines are at the correct height, so that little effort is required to hold them, and the transverse seat is at the exact height to enable the crew to see the horizon through 360 degrees, but there are touches a builder can add, such as providing a place for pots and pans so they can be within easy reach of the cook, and having pumped fresh water, rather than bottles with screw-on tops. I like the idea of being able to get at my crockery and cutlery without difficulty; therefore I have devised very simple racks for them within hand’s reach. I’ll be buying a comfortable waterproof cushion, similar to the sort provided with wheelchairs for their users who sit on them for long periods of time. I shall have mine, not just for sitting on, but for kneeling, especially when I’m preparing or cooking food at the galley. I’ve made a table that can be placed athwart the cabin for use when I’m seated on the transverse seat or when I’m lounging on the self-inflating mattress. This versatility means I’ll be able to use it as a navigation table, or for when I have a meal, or to support my computer, book etc.. My instruments, such as the compass, the echo sounder and the GPS, can be seen at a glance when I'm seated at the helmsman's seat.
Some boats are more comfortable at sea than others, and generally the comfortable ones are the heavy displacement craft, because their very heaviness cushions or reduces the effect waves have on the boat. For her length, Paradox is heavy, and the fact that she has a flat bottom lessens her tendency to roll - especially when sailing downwind, unlike narrow yachts with bulbous keels.
The fact that I’ll be able to operate my Paradox from inside the cabin when the weather is inclement, means I’ll be able to keep myself warm and dry, which will add greatly to my comfort. All in all, Paradox will be one of the most comfortable boats I will have had the pleasure of owning, although she’ll be my smallest 'proper' yacht.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Setbacks and Perseverance
To persevere is to continue in a course of action, in spite of difficulty or with little or no indication of success. My mother used to say, “Try, try again, and if you don’t succeed try again!” Sometimes that’s the lot of the boat builder, but for me, although I’ve had success with my latest project, building a Paradox trailer sailer, now and again, I have had to persevere until a particular item came right.
It is said that genuine Christian saints have this characteristic of ‘persevering’ with their faith - although they have their setbacks. Life for them is no bed of roses; indeed, because of their beliefs they can suffer ridicule and prejudice. Some would say that could apply to any person who practises a religion, and that atheists or agnostics also have their setbacks. The the rule of setbacks is universal,and perseverance may be needed to overcome them.
Boat building can become a sort of religion in which the rule of perseverance must be practised; without adherence to this rule it's unlikely a boat would ever be built. Without persistence, a boat builder is lost. He cannot be fainthearted. He must try, try and try again, until all problems are overcome. He has to be bold and confident. Once he doubts his ability to succeed, he is lost.
There can be little activity more stimulating for the boat builder than setting about his project. Whenever he tackles a new job, large or small, there is always a constant challenge. How best can each task be done well? He has to plan every sequence; then make available the necessary tools and materials before building that particular part. If the job goes wrong he must try again; perhaps by tackling it in a different way to achieve success. Perseverance is a fundamental characteristic of the successful boat builder.
By overcoming setbacks through perseverance the boat builder is richly rewarded. He has the satisfaction of seeing his progress, and, eventually, if he perseveres enough, he will have the greatest reward when he sees his finished vessel.
It is said that genuine Christian saints have this characteristic of ‘persevering’ with their faith - although they have their setbacks. Life for them is no bed of roses; indeed, because of their beliefs they can suffer ridicule and prejudice. Some would say that could apply to any person who practises a religion, and that atheists or agnostics also have their setbacks. The the rule of setbacks is universal,and perseverance may be needed to overcome them.
Boat building can become a sort of religion in which the rule of perseverance must be practised; without adherence to this rule it's unlikely a boat would ever be built. Without persistence, a boat builder is lost. He cannot be fainthearted. He must try, try and try again, until all problems are overcome. He has to be bold and confident. Once he doubts his ability to succeed, he is lost.
There can be little activity more stimulating for the boat builder than setting about his project. Whenever he tackles a new job, large or small, there is always a constant challenge. How best can each task be done well? He has to plan every sequence; then make available the necessary tools and materials before building that particular part. If the job goes wrong he must try again; perhaps by tackling it in a different way to achieve success. Perseverance is a fundamental characteristic of the successful boat builder.
By overcoming setbacks through perseverance the boat builder is richly rewarded. He has the satisfaction of seeing his progress, and, eventually, if he perseveres enough, he will have the greatest reward when he sees his finished vessel.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
My Return Home
My last entry to this blog was about perfection and imperfection, and two months have passed since I considered the nature of these qualities.
While being in Australia, touring the eastern coastal margins by caravan, I have been challenged by the enormous variety to be found in nature - within the rainforests there are enumerable species of trees, plants, birds and butterflies, not to mention insects such as ants and termites, and, just to consider the variety of wonderful and beautiful orchids in the rainforests, is mind-boggling. All of these natural phenomena are marvellous to me, and so many of them seem perfect in their design and function, each being dependent on others for their survival. Take the shy cassowary as an example; this is a large bird that grazes on the fruit of the forest and unwittingly distributes seed via its droppings, thus sustaining the forest which the bird needs for its own survival and for the continuing existence of other creatures.
Travelling broadens the mind, so I’m told; although that may not necessarily be a good thing, particularly if one is easily influenced by harmful or bad practices readily accepted by those who live in foreign lands; for example, the white man through greed has decimated countless acres of Australian rainforest to replace it with sugar cane plantations and cattle ranches; in so doing he has virtually destroyed not only huge tracts of forests and the creatures within them, but the Aboriginal people who inhabited those areas for thousands of years without changing their nature significantly.
One effect my two month stay in Australia has had on me is to put things in perspective. It has shown me the vastness of the earth, and by contrast the smallness of man; yet despite his apparent insignificance he has wrought devastation on the planet. I confess I, to a degree, have by my boat building and travel by air to that ancient continent contributed towards man’s defilement of the earth upon which he depends for his future survival.
While being in Australia, touring the eastern coastal margins by caravan, I have been challenged by the enormous variety to be found in nature - within the rainforests there are enumerable species of trees, plants, birds and butterflies, not to mention insects such as ants and termites, and, just to consider the variety of wonderful and beautiful orchids in the rainforests, is mind-boggling. All of these natural phenomena are marvellous to me, and so many of them seem perfect in their design and function, each being dependent on others for their survival. Take the shy cassowary as an example; this is a large bird that grazes on the fruit of the forest and unwittingly distributes seed via its droppings, thus sustaining the forest which the bird needs for its own survival and for the continuing existence of other creatures.
Travelling broadens the mind, so I’m told; although that may not necessarily be a good thing, particularly if one is easily influenced by harmful or bad practices readily accepted by those who live in foreign lands; for example, the white man through greed has decimated countless acres of Australian rainforest to replace it with sugar cane plantations and cattle ranches; in so doing he has virtually destroyed not only huge tracts of forests and the creatures within them, but the Aboriginal people who inhabited those areas for thousands of years without changing their nature significantly.
One effect my two month stay in Australia has had on me is to put things in perspective. It has shown me the vastness of the earth, and by contrast the smallness of man; yet despite his apparent insignificance he has wrought devastation on the planet. I confess I, to a degree, have by my boat building and travel by air to that ancient continent contributed towards man’s defilement of the earth upon which he depends for his future survival.
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