‘Micro’s’ Cruises No 3 – Dinghy Cruising Association Deben Rally Part 2

'Micro' and the Deben


Straight away I prepared the evening meal. As I did so, I couldn’t fail to notice that something special was going on at the Yacht Club. Banners and balloons indicated that there was to be a party for someone’s 40th birthday. Loads of young people in fancy dress gathered on the balcony. Drinks were distributed and merriment began.


"Should I try to find another spot for the night?" I asked myself. "No. It'll be alright. They'll have gone home by midnight," or so I thought. I rigged my boom tent.


Dark clouds gave warning of approaching showers, but they didn’t put me off from having a short walk beside the River. There was a marked drop in temperature and a smattering of rain. I wasn’t concerned about getting wet, because I knew my oilskins would keep me dry.


During my walk I saw two things that were of interest; they were an old Catalac catamaran, moored by the river bank, and a very large mansion that overlooked the Deben. The former was noticeable because of her derelict state, and the latter stood out on account of being brand new. I pondered why their respective owners had wanted them in the first place. Maybe the owner of the mansion had inherited a windfall, and wanted to invest it in property? Perhaps the owner of the catamaran had intended to use his yacht for blue water cruising, but misfortune came his way, so that he could not fulfil his dream? Instead he gave up the idea, and lost interest in his yacht.


On arriving back at the boat I found the birthday party was in full swing. I retired to my tent in the nick of time to avoid a torrential downpour. Very loud music – more accurately low frequency booming sounds from bass woofers - utterly destroyed what would have been a peaceful evening. There was no call of the curlew, no honk of a heron, or the soothing laughter of lapping water as the ebb tide receded. All wildlife had fled the scene.


Had I known the event was to take place I would never have ventured within ten miles of Waldringfield! Partying revellers added to the cacophony by shouting and shrieking. At midnight, youngsters, some of them nude, ran around the beach, oblivious to injuries they may have sustained from stones or broken glass. Several of these uninhibited, intoxicated partygoers dashed into the water, where they squealed and shouted obscenities. Those who did not avail themselves of the aquatic activity continued running around the beach, including doing circuits of 'Micro'. I was glad I had not set an anchor, because they would surely have tripped over its line or fallen foul of the flukes.


It wasn't until about three in the morning that any semblance of peace returned to the otherwise idyllic location. I fitfully slumbered. About two hours later I awoke from a jumbled dream that made no sense to my befuddled mind. At the faint light of dawn, my nightmare came to an end. Relieved, I took down the tent and prepared breakfast. I didn’t feel like shaving and smartening myself, but as the public toilets were only a few yards away, I persuaded myself to make the effort. Hot water was freely available, and soon the stubble on my chin was gone. Through bleary eyes and a steamed-up metal mirror I saw a ghoulish face quizzically looking at me.


By the time I got the boat sailing, there was a fresh wind - a Force 3 from the southeast, which meant I would have to battle against wind and tide if I were to reach Ramsholt, the rendezvous where members were to meet Paul Constantine, the coordinator of the Rally. Sure enough, I found him aboard his anchored Torch dinghy which was fitted with a well-designed tent that had flexible windows and a canvas door. His wife’s Mirror was rafted alongside. She was about to sail to Felixstowe Ferry Slipway where she had arranged to meet two friends who were new to sailing. I decided to make my way to the slipway too.


I arrived at least a quarter-of-an-hour before her, and greeted George Saffrey who was rigging his beloved Cruz dinghy. We renewed acquaintances; then I introduced myself to a couple whom I mistakenly thought were the sailing tyros waiting for Paul’s wife. They explained that they were spectators curious as to what was going on.


As I was helping George launch his Cruz, Paul’s wife arrived. We chatted and took photographs of our boats; then we discussed the practicalities of sailing up river to join Paul. Would there be enough wind for us to make against the ebb? Paul’s wife was the first to give it a go. Encouraged by her progress, I followed, and George took up the rear. When we found Paul, we collectively agreed it would not be prudent to go to sea; instead we sailed up river.


The wind increased, which required me to reef the mainsail. Gusty conditions kept me pretty busy. Now and again 'Micro' would heel alarmingly and there was one occasion when I felt she would go completely over, but, to my relief, she righted herself. George picked up a mooring at Ramsholt and I rafted 'Micro' beside his Cruz. We ate lunch together, and we talked of sailing and of boats - surprise, surprise!


After lunch we looked for the others and found them near the Felixstowe Ferry Slipway. David Jennings had joined them with his Highlander 14, which went surprisingly well, despite the fact that she was rigged with a deeply reefed standing lugsail. Paul suggested that we should retrace our steps. By that time the tide was in our favour. We could rendezvous at 'The Rocks’, which is a sheltered nook by Shottisham Woods. The anchorage there is popular because of the protection afforded by a bluff of land, and access to the shore is good.


The wind blew even harder, but I couldn’t reef ‘Micro’ any more, which meant she was overpowered. Under those conditions, the others could out-sail my shallow draught boat to windward, but she left them standing when reaching or running. The gusty wind veered to the northwest, causing us to beat through the Ramsholt moorings. I ran into difficulties while trying to avoid a moored yacht. 'Micro' failed to complete her tack, and she fell into irons, causing the top of her stem post to be forced against the yacht's topside. As I tried to fend her off, I saw the capping piece split under the load. Slowly we slipped astern until we were free. Fortunately, there had been no perceptible damage to the other vessel. I felt a sense of relief that I had got away with it so lightly.


I decided there and then to abandon the Rally and to head for home. Although I really wanted to join the others that night, I felt things were not going well, because the boat was being overpowered by the gusts. Furthermore, I was due to start a month's cruise aboard a friend’s yacht on Monday. I asked George if he would inform the others of my decision and to wish them well.


I played it safe on my way to the Slipway by using the jib alone, except for the last stretch when I also set the reefed mainsail.


The main lesson I learnt from the cruise was that I needed to find a way of reducing sail more than I had been able to. Subsequently I bought a storm jib which made all the difference when sailing in winds of Force 3 and above.


The Deben Cruise had been an interesting experience, but it had not been entirely satisfactory because of the unpleasant episode at Waldringfield Yacht Club and because of my disappointment at having to abandon the cruise.

'Micro's' Cruises, No 3 - Dinghy Cruising Association Deben Rally Part 1

Mirror, 'Micro' and Cruz by Felixstowe Ferry Slip


Attending a DCA rally would allow me to compare 'Micro's' performance with similar dinghies; therefore I was keen to meet members with their boat at the Deben gathering over the weekend of 30th June to 1st July, 2001.


The Met Office accurately forecasted that the weather would be sunny, but there would be a blustery wind.


I left home shortly after mid-day on Friday, 29th July, expecting to spend at least two days and two nights aboard ‘Micro’. High water at Felixstowe was to be at 1918.


On arriving at Felixstowe Ferry Slipway at about 1400, I observed there was ample water to launch the boat. A notice at the head of the slipway indicated that a fee should be paid by those using the facility, but when I enquired at a local café about payment I was told that boats without engines were exempt and that car parking was free. I made haste to launch 'Micro'.


Apart from a crowded ferry boat at the foot of the slipway, there was nothing to prevent me from the launching ‘Micro’. The tide was belting up-river, so that ‘Micro’ was whisked northwards through the moorings to the west of Horse Sands. Since it was time for a late afternoon tea I grabbed a vacant mooring so that I could make a brew.


The sun was shining and I had the River Deben to myself. Suitably relaxed, I sipped the refreshing beverage and savoured McVities biscuits. I surveyed the scene, and I was taken by the beauty of the place. To the south, beyond moored yachts, there was a high bank of shingle which did not completely obscure the boatyard buildings. To the east, on the opposite side of the River, there was a small wooded hamlet. The area was unspoiled and picturesque. On either side of the moorings to the east and west, there were low-lying fields. To the north there were the muddy banks of the meandering River.


I noted from the chart that the distance between Felixstowe Ferry and Woodbridge was about nine nautical miles. This was the extent of the cruising ground I could explore, which was no more than three hours sailing in either direction – unless I was impeded by the tide or lack of wind. After my snack I made sail.


My next point of interest was the moorings off the Ramsholt Arms pub, which is a favourite rendezvous for DCA sailors. Many a pint has been downed there while they told their tales of adventure. I was reliably informed that the Pub’s food was good, but have not tried it for myself. I carefully examined the sandy beach by the jetty to ascertain if it would be a suitable spot for ‘Micro’ to take the ground. I needed to find a level place, but this was too steep.


By then the wind had almost petered out, so that the boat crawled at a snail's pace.


Where was I to spend the night? As I had not slept aboard 'Micro' while she lay on terra firma I was keen to find a level beach. I wanted a clean, fairly hard surface on which my boat could settle. That would enable me to come and go without bringing mud into the boat. It was my custom to take a walk after my evening meal and I didn't want the hassle of cleaning wellington boots.


Two hours before high water I found what I thought would be a suitable spot at Waldringfield. I nudged ‘Micro’s’ bow onto an area of golden sand near the Yacht Club. To all intents and purposes, this looked perfect. I unshipped the rudder and pointed the bow towards deep water, so that when she dried out, my head would be higher than my feet.

Building ‘Sharpy’ Part 21

I didn’t expect to do any boatbuilding today, but it transpired that I had a couple of hours to spare; therefore I finished the port side panel by using a course file and sandpaper to remove epoxy that had been squeezed from between the sheer strake and the chine log.


Having done that, I thought I would have a bit of fun by doing a trial assembly of the parts. Firstly, I used a piece of string to hold the bow section to the stem post; then I inserted frame number one. Next, I fitted the transom which I lashed to the aft end of the side panels. Finally, I slotted into place frames two, three and four.


When I stood back to take in the whole picture, I was surprised that the boat was bigger than I expected her to be. Unless I can make an efficient roof rack modification by adding a roller over the boot of my car, I suspect getting her on top of my car may be more difficult than I first thought, but I won’t really know until I try it.


Well, I’m pleased with what I’ve done so far. All of the parts will need to be permanently joined together with epoxy. Afterwards, I shall have to make the transverse support frame for the keel box and fit it before attaching the hog, and the floor with its stringers.


I shall not be able to proceed unless I can sort out a means of heating the garage.

Building ‘Sharpy’ Part 20

Port Hand Panel

Stem Post

Stem Post again

I put in another 4 hours and 45 minutes building ‘Sharpy’ today, bringing the grand total to 60 hours and 5 minutes. For sure, I’m a slow worker because I spend a lot of time looking and checking before shaping, cutting, gluing etc.. First thing this morning I got on with epoxying the chine log and sheer strake to the port hand panel. Afterwards I tidied the starboard hand panel by filing away a few epoxy dribbles before smoothing them with sandpaper. Then I cut out the notches in the frames for the sheer strakes and chine logs. Finally I shaped the internal stem post.


Derek Munnion, the designer of ‘Sharpy’, phoned this evening to give me measurements that can help me incorporate the correct amount of sheer into the boat. Apparently, if she doesn’t have enough rocker she won’t sit on her waterline correctly. More rocker can be induced by increasing the flare at the bow. The stem should just clear the water and the lower part of the transom should be on the waterline.


It’s unlikely that I’ll do any boatbuilding tomorrow, because I have other tasks that need doing.

Building ‘Sharpy’ Part 19

The Starboard Panel Clamped

As usual, I was a little ambitious by thinking I could do more in a single day than was possible. I had hoped to epoxy the sheer strakes and chine logs to both side panels, but I discovered I did not have sufficient clamps to do the job; furthermore, I did not have enough space in the lounge to move around the panels while applying the epoxy and clamping the parts together.


Amazingly, I spent two hours and a quarter simply preparing things so that the operation would go smoothly without me spilling epoxy on the carpet. I thought I would need about 30 clamps and a corresponding number of pads for them. The purpose of the pads was to protect the outer surface of the panel from being damaged by the clamps. Each pad consisted of a small piece of plywood covered with brown sticky tape. The reason for the sticky tape was to prevent the pads from adhering to the plywood if epoxy came between them and the plywood. This could occur when the clamps are being tightened, because surplus epoxy could be squeezed from the joined items. It is important not to starve components of epoxy by over-tightening the clamps.


As a part of my preparation I made available four pairs of disposable Vinyl gloves for instant use. That was overkill, because I only needed one pair that I periodically cleaned with paper towels. Before the start, I adjusted every clamp to the required setting so that it would slip onto the bits being joined. The tricky part was keeping the pads in place when the clamps were being tightened. The action of clamping required three hands: one for holding the clamp, another for placing and holding the pad, and a third for tightening the clamp!


Because all the surfaces were flat, there was no need for me to mix Cab-o-Sil with the epoxy. In practice it is better not to use Cab-o-Sil if possible, because epoxy on its own is stronger than when filler is added to it.


After I did the job, I began to wonder if I had used the correct mixture of two parts epoxy and one part catalyst. To have a sufficient amount for completing the work I needed to pump each dispenser twice, but my doubt about the possibility of getting the mixture wrong was quickly expunged from my mind, because when I went to clean the brush I had used for applying the epoxy, I discovered its bristles were congealed together, almost into a solid state. When I checked my work four hours later, I found that the epoxy was rock hard.


Realistically, I should be able to epoxy together the various parts of the port hand panel tomorrow.

Building ‘Sharpy’ Part 18

Almost ready for Epoxying

Chine Butt

My day began at 0230 when I woke to take my wife to the airport, and after recuperating I started work on the boat at 1000. Apart from 2 hours spent visiting an unwell person in the afternoon and a ½ hour lunch break, the rest of the day was taken up with cutting and shaping the sheer strakes and chine logs, in addition to preparing them for gluing to the panels.


I could not rely on maintaining a decent temperature in the garage for using epoxy; therefore I arranged my trestles in the lounge. The panels fit there if they are set on the diagonal. To safeguard the carpet I covered the portion that will be used for epoxying with black bin liners. I also covered the upper surfaces of the trestles with bin liners.


Hopefully, I’ll be able to epoxy the chine logs and sheer strakes to the side panels tomorrow.

Building ‘Sharpy’ Part 17

Preparation

Weights applied to Joints



Side Panels and their Butt Joints


The last time I got around to doing anything with the new boat was on Monday, 25th October. That day I completed the transom. Nine days later, i.e., today, I managed to find an hour when I could get something done. I knew the grandchildren were about to arrive, but the outside air temperature was an unbelievably 14 degrees Celsius – just high enough for epoxy to gel.



I set up the temporary bench in the garage and placed a piece of plywood on it to make the surface flat. Then I covered the area where I would be doing the epoxying with two black bin liners. Before mixing the hardener with the epoxy I roughly arranged the side panels as they would be when finished with their butt plates. Then I applied the mixed epoxy to the appropriate surfaces, paying particular attention to the ends of the panels by giving them three coats, one of which was thickened with a small quantity of Cab-o-sil. After applying three coats of epoxy to every surface I extracted the upper bin liner to leave a clean one under the panels. Finally I butted the joints together and placed the butt plates over them. To keep everything together and apply pressure to the assembly I used filled water cans as weights.



Because the air temperature was on the low side for the epoxy to gel, I set up a hot air blower under a canopy. This did the trick and the epoxy showed signs of hardening within three hours. Six hours is normally the time it takes to fully harden with the UK Epoxy Resin I use, but it is preferable not to disturb the epoxy within twelve hours, preferably twenty-four hours.



Well, the grandchildren did arrive, and they gathered in the garage to watch what I was doing, and to ask questions as children always do, never without the inevitable question, “Why?” When you give them an answer, invariably their next question is, “Why?” and so on.


Today, they very quickly became bored with Grandad, or Granddad, according to your preference of spelling the word, because he was not playing with them. On the other hand Nanny was doing something far more exciting and interesting; she was weeding the garden and hunting for worms. I was grateful for the distraction, and after clearing up and cleaning the brush I had used for applying the epoxy, I locked the garage so that little hands would be kept at bay.

‘Micro’s’ Cruises No 2 - Hullbridge/Roach Part 2

The map is reproduced with kind permission of Ordnance Survey



The Tent


I wanted to reach the River Roach before the last of the ebb; therefore I made sail as before, but this time I shook out the reef so that I would have enough power to drive the boat through the waves.


Bridgemarsh Island lies halfway between Fambridge and Burnham. Althorne Creek separates it from the mainland. The Island is nothing more than a low-lying area of salt marsh where birds nest during the spring and summer months. I almost had the River to myself, except for a couple of small yachts under power and a larger one under sail.


I took the opportunity of heaving to in the more open water, so that I could put on my waterproof gear. The wind had increased, which caused spray to dampen my clothing and the wind made me cold.


Before arriving at Burnham I passed a large, rusty Russian ship that was having her cargo of wood taken off her by spider-like cranes at Wallasea Wharf. Rod fishermen cast their lines from the end of the jetty, perhaps hopeful that they may catch whiting or plaice. On the other side of the River there was a red brick cottage in a setting of variegated green hues comprised of trees, hedges, shrubs and a sloping lawn. Cloud shadows moved briskly over the scene.


The next stretch of water through the Burnham moorings was testing, because the wind increased yet again, with gusts up to Force 5. I couldn’t reef the mainsail because of there being insufficient room between the moored yachts to have time to do it. I could have doused all sail and rowed; instead, I played ‘Micro’s’ sails, but I found the job a bit tricky. I held the jib sheet in one hand, and the tiller and mainsheet in the other. When tacking, I had to be quick, because the tiller extension had to be latched into its retaining slot before I could grab the tiller with the other hand; this was because the mainsheet was attached to the coaming. While doing this I had to attend to the sheets and move to the other side of the boat. Tacking would have been easier if I had made a metal or rope horse over the aft end of the tiller. At each tack I had to find a way through the moored yachts.


When I finally got clear of the moorings, I hove-to and reefed the mainsail. I still needed the jib so that I could drive the boat through the waves.


For the third time the wind increased, but then it veered to the southeast which was more favourable. I put in short and long tacks until I arrived at the Branklet Spit Buoy.


Within the River Roach there were several yachts anchored by the west bank, but they were exposed to the south-easterly wind. I decided to head for the east side of the River, where I set ‘Micro’s’ anchor in soft mud. She was entirely protected from the wind so that her sails hang limply. By then the flood had started to run.


I folded and lashed the mainsail between the yard and boom in preparation for her new tent that I would use for the first time. The spars would support the ridge of the tent and its base would be kept in place with lashings and bungees. I assembled the cooker and made a cup of tea. Afterwards I prepared the evening meal which consisted of tinned potatoes, tinned peas and cold corned beef, plus strawberry yoghurt for a sweet. This was not a gourmet meal, but it was sufficient for my needs and dead simple to prepare. As I ate my meal I relaxed and took in the scenery. At the top of the mast, the Dinghy Cruising Association pennant gently fluttered.


Two yachts anchored nearby. Meanwhile, I rigged the tent, laid out my sleeping bag on the pneumatic mattress, found my miniature torch; then I read passages from the Bible. Apart from the sound of swans that flew overhead, the peacefulness of the moment was perfect for meditation - thoughts about God's graciousness, His love and the wonder of His creation. The sunset was truly beautiful - a melting pot of fiery hues of graduated purples, greens, blues, greys and eventually a black nothingness, except for a halo of orange light to the northwest that hovered over Burnham. Later that night there was a canopy of twinkling stars.


Warm as toast, I lay back on my comfortable mattress, and I was gently rocked by the wavelets. I could hear a faint whisper of moving water that slid along the hull. This surely was my reward for hours spent building 'Micro'. I had fashioned her parts and shaped her every detail, painted her and made her glisten like gold. She would grow old and battered in time, but just then she was a budding young maiden at her pristine best. I delighted in her beauty.


At daylight I was up and about making breakfast which consisted of Muesli and a Marmite sandwich along with hot tea. I took the tent down and gave myself a refreshing wash and a shave. A cool wind rippled the water. It was time to up anchor and make sail. I needed to be in the River Crouch by low water to take full advantage of the flood tide for returning to Hullbridge. There was no sign of life aboard the neighbouring yachts. ‘Micro’ ghosted toward the Branklet Spit buoy.


The return to Hullbridge was uneventful. It was unbearably hot and sticky. I tied up to a buoy at Fambridge and waited there until an hour before high water so that I would arrive at Hullbridge at the top of the tide. I discovered that the Brandy Hole Regatta was in full swing; therefore I had to pick my way carefully through the fleets of participating yachts and dinghies.


My car and trailer were just as I had left them, and within twenty minutes I had the mast and rigging on the roof rack and the boat out of the water.


I had thoroughly enjoyed my second adventure and I looked forward to the next one.

'Micro’s’ Cruises No 2 - Hullbridge/Roach Part 1

The Rudder

Galley


For my second cruise aboard ‘Micro’ I chose to launch at Hullbridge which is situated on the upper reaches of the River Crouch, Essex, England. About 9 miles to the east, the River Roach branches off the Crouch toward the south and meanders to the southwest.


I planned a two day trip to Paglesham over a distance of 18 miles when measured directly, but in practice, the distance was more because of headwinds.


For some unaccountable reason I felt nervous before setting off. I had thoroughly checked the provisions needed for the cruise, and 'Micro' had been put through her paces on her maiden voyage. There was no rational reason for my anxiety.


High water was at 1400 hours, and I knew from the tide table that there would be sufficient water for launching the boat at the Ferry Road public slipway. I drove into the car park from where I could reverse down the fairly steep gradient. There I parked the boat to one side while I set up the rigging and mentally rehearsed how I would do the launching.


Because the concrete slipway had a short drop at the end of it, I had to be careful not to let the wheels of the trailer go beyond that point. On a previous visit to the slipway I had noticed some large stones below it; therefore I decided not to ship the rudder until after launching the boat.


I stopped the trailer when the stern of the boat was immersed, and I got out of the car to complete the launching. A handful of spectators made suggestions as to how I should proceed.


"Give her a shove!" one remarked, and another shouted, “Do you want any help?”


By that time I was in the water up to my knees, and one of my plastic slip-on sandals came off. It started to float away with the current. Trying to hide the fact that I was flustered, I nonchalantly waded into deeper water to retrieve it. I was fortunate not to stub a toe on one of the large stones hidden in the muddy water.


'Micro' was above all this. She remained calm and she looked rather serene when she floated off her trailer. I tethered her to a convenient branch and I whispered to her that I would be away for a short while for the purpose of parking the car and trailer. As a security measure I reversed the trailer so that it was wedged between the car and a hedge. I also padlocked the trailer to the ball hitch.


By then, the ebb had started to run against a cold easterly wind of about a Force 2, which made the water rather choppy. It seemed unwise to make sail when the River was packed with yachts on their moorings. They were like restless animals trying to escape their tethers as the ebb helped me to row against the wind.


Gradually the moorings thinned out and I thought I would ship the rudder and make sail. I grabbed a buoy and tied it alongside. The boat lay quietly to it. I gave myself a shot of energy by eating a Mars Bar and drinking orange juice. The nearby poplar trees rustled and waved in the wind, and above them there were towering grey cumulus clouds.


I was no longer anxious - I was at peace. Moments later I was perplexed and frustrated because I couldn’t ship the rudder. I leant over the stern, put a hand on the tiller and held the blade with the other hand. Time and again I could not line up the pintles and gudgeons because of the speeding water. Eventually I succeeded in getting them in line and I thankfully pushed the rudder into place.


I gingerly hoisted a reefed mainsail and I was relieved to find that the boat lay quietly as if she were hove to. She was tied to the buoy amidships. Her sail was left free to shake and there was no tendency for her to move forward. As soon as I set the jib I let go of the mooring, then I hauled in the sheets. Immediately the sails stopped shaking and there was relative quiet.


Would I be able to make to windward at Brandy Hole Yacht Club where the River narrows? Would the boat behave herself when sailing through the Club moorings? All went well, and soon I found myself sailing on a fine reach over more open water where there were a couple of youngsters water-skiing who took great delight in passing as close as they dare to ‘Micro’. They were obviously amused, but I was not. Then I remembered that I did stupid things in my youth. The near miss caused me to think about insurance, because I had not got around to insuring my boat.


After an enjoyable beat to Fambridge, I tied ‘Micro’ to a vacant mooring. The water was a bit bumpy because the wind was against the ebb. This presented me with an opportunity for trying the cooker in less than perfect conditions. I found that the saucepan stayed on the cooker and within minutes I was enjoying a piping hot cup of Brookbond tea. Cheese, tomatoes, onions and Branston Pickle, placed between two slices of buttered wholemeal bread made a tasty sandwich. In addition to the sandwich I downed a ripe banana and a Kitkat.

Lay-up 2010 – ‘Ladybird’

Not a very elegent winter cover, but it works.

Ditto


Last Wednesday, ‘Ladybird’ was taken out of the water, and at the time I felt a certain amount of elation because she had given me a great sailing season. Technically she no longer belongs to me, because my daughter became her new owner, but I’m still very much involved with crewing and maintaining the yacht. I also have the privilege of sailing her whenever I want.


Yesterday, I helped my daughter and a friend of hers tuck the boat away under her winter covers. In the past I have usually laid-up my boats by myself, but with three people doing it, the operation was quicker and easier. We first had to remove all the clobber that had accumulated in the bilges, things like boxes of tinned food, long life milk, water cans and bosun’s items; then we took out stuff from the side lockers, such as navigation equipment, books, crockery, cutlery, followed by safety items, including buoyancy aids, and flares. Curtains were removed, along with bunk cushions, the ensign, the Autohelm, the battery and the kedge anchor. The extraction process continued until the boat was stripped bare - even her washboards were taken home for repair, and most of her ropes for cleaning. We had already taken the outboard and the rudder when the yacht came out of the water.


Unless a yacht is equipped with a bespoke winter cover and a supporting framework, tarpaulins spread over the boat are the next best thing. Quite often the mast is secured above the yacht to form a ridge for the tarpaulins. Some sort of chafing material is tied to the tops of the stanchions to minimize wear and tear when the tarpaulins are buffeted by the wind and heavy rain or when they are subjected to the weight of snow. I usually keep the mast up, but remove the backstays so that a cover can be placed over the boom which I fit with an extension of wood. I tie the topping lift to the end of the extension; then I keep it in place with a rope tied to the backstay fittings. I fix a wooden support between the pulpit and the mast for a second tarpaulin to protect the foredeck. This arrangement is not elegant, but it does the job.


During the winter there will be the usual maintenance: perhaps replacing worn stitching on the sails, repairing bunk cushions, making new curtains, strengthening the washboards and charging the battery. The outboard will need servicing.

‘Micro’s’ Cruises

No 1 - Burnham/Yokesfleet Creek



"Will you launch her with Champaign?" I had been asked.
"More likely Branston Pickle!" was my reply.


The time came to try her out - in secret. Visions of her being low on her marks, or being down at the bow played on my mind, but all was fine.


‘Micro’ was easy to tow behind my old Ford Sierra. At 50 mph I wouldn’t have known she was behind the car, and even when traversing a bumpy section of the B1012 near South Woodham Ferres, she barely made her presence felt.


I could not find the Harbour Master at the Marina office, so I set up the rigging. As I sorted the various bits of string I took note of the water beyond the entrance and estimated the northeast wind to be a Force 2 - ideal for a trial sail.


Entry into the water was not as well controlled as I would have liked. The slipway was occupied by a 26 ft trailer sailer, but the owner was pleased to move her to one side. Reversing through the narrow gap left between the edge of the slipway and the cruiser proved tricky. Because I did not want the wheel bearings to get wet I didn’t let the trailer down the slipway far enough for Micro to float off. Therefore I had to push her until she slid into the water, but to my surprise she tipped to one side. This was because her pointed stern didn’t have sufficient lateral buoyancy to keep her upright. I took note of the situation, and logged it as lesson number 1: Immerse the trailer far enough into the water for the boat to remain upright. Just make sure the wheel bearings are cool and packed with grease before launching.


Somehow, I had forgotten the Branston Pickle, but I was pleased that only the owner of the cruiser and his wife were there to witness ‘Micro’s’ baptism. This was a time for me and my 'creation'. She was going to test me and I was going to test her.


Test number one. How would she row? After parking the car and trailer I pushed the boat into deeper water to prevent her from grounding when I climbed aboard. I gently nudged her away from the slipway, shipped the oars, and with little effort on my part, I rowed her to a nearby pontoon, where I prepared her for sailing.


How would she sail and how would I manage her? I didn’t know if she would have weather helm, lee helm or neutral helm, and I was diffident about sailing her through the narrow passage between the moored boats, so I carefully rowed her to the open water of the River Crouch. There I found the true strength of the wind was about Force 3. I first hoisted the main, and away she went. I felt quite happy with how she handled. Next, I set the free-standing jib, and I took care not to capsize the boat as I moved forward to browse down on the halyard. By comparison with my Roamer dinghy, ‘Micro’ was far less stable, but she was sufficiently firm for me to sit on her side deck while I tugged the halyard and made it fast.


I was amazed how well she went to windward, and when tacking she came about with ease; only now and again did I use the jib to help her round. Downwind she slipped along leaving just a trace of a wake, save for three trails of bubbles, two for the keels and one for the hull. Feeling more confident, I tacked to the entrance of the River Roach. Sitting on her side decks was not as comfortable as I had hoped, because the pneumatic cushion between my posterior and the coaming was ineffective.


At the Branklet Spit buoy, ‘Micro’ almost got up onto the plane. There were no other boats around, except an anchored SeaWych close to the north bank. Half-an-hour later, the tide was on the ebb and the wind almost faltered, but there was sufficient to make over the ground towards Paglesham. I wanted a quiet night; therefore I steered the boat to port into Yokesfleet Creek.


Protected from what little wind there was by the high muddy banks, ‘Micro’ came to a halt. Having stowed the sails, I rowed her beyond the electric cable marked by yellow and black lozenges either side of the creek. Five seals ensconced on the western bank kept their beady eyes on us. Two were larger than the others and I guessed they were males. The sun gradually sank behind the top of the bank, leaving behind a sunset of painted orange, pink and purple streaks. I needed to erect the improvised tent before the evening dew. To prevent any draught coming in from the front end I rigged an old raincoat under the boom and tied its corners to the chainplates.


My rumbling tummy told me it was time for the evening meal. I poured water into the saucepan and placed it on the gimballed cooker for heating a precooked meal which simply required boiling water added to it. Although not as hot as I would have liked, the chicken curry tasted OK. Yoghurt and Ovaltine completed my repast.


Test number three: Would I be able to sleep aboard when the boat was at anchor?
I never sleep well on the first night of a cruise, and this was no exception. One reason for my lack of sleep was the rude noises made by the seals! Did they fart or did they belch? I couldn’t tell. Of course, I needed to relieve myself in the middle of the night, but that was test number four. Could I use the bucket in the confined space under the tent? Success! - Hurrah! I emptied the bucket, rinsed it and tied it in place on the stern deck. What a wonderful starry night it was.


To keep my head warm I wore an old, but cherished peaked cap that played havoc with my hair by scrunching it up so that I resembled a scarecrow with a head of straw. In the morning my eyes were zombie-like, outlined with black circles, and my chin felt like a wire brush. I was not amused by the dawn antics of the male seals as they chased one another up and down the muddy bank. From the top they would slide down and plunge into the dark water, appear again and repeat the performance. Meanwhile the females remained poised with their noses in the air, as if to say we are above this childish nonsense - silly fools don’t impress us.


Breakfast was next on the agenda, before shaving and ablutions. I needed to catch the last of the ebb.


Because there was little wind, I thought I would have a hard slog rowing all the way to the River Crouch. As I rowed down the Creek, the large seals were curious. Did I have designs on their trio? They followed me, one at each quarter, until I was well clear of their domain. The wind filled in from the northeast and it was sufficient to move the boat at about a knot. At Horshoe Corner I was forced to put in a series of windward legs towards the entrance of the River Roach. The last of the ebb assisted us as far as the Branklet Spit Buoy. The timing was just right, because from there the flood tide began to flow up river to the west.


The air was crystal clear, and apart from the gentle lapping of wavelets from ‘Micro’s’ curved bow, I couldn’t hear another sound. Seated on the floorboard I leant against the aft end of the cockpit with my arm raised so that my fingers rested on the tiller. The experience was sublime. This was my dream turned into reality. A young lady was walking her dog beside the river, and the boatman of the Royal Burnham Yacht Club stood beside his launch. He ignored my wave, and I magnanimously concluded that he was short-sighted or he was too interested in lighting his cigarette.


All of a sudden I felt excruciating pains in both of my legs. I daren’t try standing, as I was afraid I would capsize the boat. Vigorously I massaged my legs to restore the blood supply, and gradually the cramp eased. I had sat motionless for too long and the chilled air had cooled my legs. Thereafter, I determined to move my limbs now and again to keep the blood circulating. I didn’t want to be a victim of deep vein thrombosis!


All the way to Fambridge I had the River to myself, but it was a different story for the return passage to Burnham. Several yachts, most of them using their engines, overtook ‘Micro’. As is often the case when it is a sunny day, the wind increases about 1600, and white cumulus clouds skip across the azure sky. With those conditions ‘Micro’ creamed along.


I shall remember the screeching terns at the River’s edge, a pair of ducks with their chicks in single file, trails high in the sky from planes, and the joy of helming my little boat on her first cruise.


Getting packed for the journey home was time-consuming because of interruptions from spectators who were intrigued with my small, wooden boat – a boat so very different from the usual plastic tubs and gin palaces that frequent marinas.

Tomahawk 25

An unusual Junk-rigged Tomahawk 25. These yachts are normally rigged as Bermudan sloops.


The Tomahawk 25 designed by Alan Hill and moulded by Marcon was first launched in 1970. Eric White, the founder of Marine Construction described her as ‘The People’s Boat’, and as such she was generally cheaper than her rivals. When she was shown at the 1971 Earls Court Boat Show, only one was sold, perhaps because she was perceived as being too radical, with her fin keel and skeg-hung rudder. This reticence on the part of yachtsmen unfamiliar with the advantages of GRP production over traditionally built wooden boats soon faded when her performance and practical characteristics became clear. Then a twin keel version with encapsulated keels was produced in tandem with the fin keel boat which widened the appeal, to the extent that marginally more of the former were built according to demand.


In addition to completed yachts, this five berth cruiser with a semi-open accommodation plan was available for professionals or amateurs to equip and finish according to their budgets. Altogether about 290 boats were built over a period of 10 years. Alan Hill was pleased with his Tomahawk 25 which he cruised with his family and won Burnham Week. An active Owners’ Association offers a quarterly bulletin, a members’ forum, a brokerage section on their website, and rallies.



Specification


LOA 7.7m 25ft 4in

LWL 6.1m 20ft 0in

Beam 2.6m 8ft 6in

Draft (fin keel) 1.4m 4ft 8in

Draft (twin keel) 0.9m 3ft 0in

Displacement 2,300kg 5,066lb

Ballast 1,000kg 2,200lb

Ballast ratio 43%

Sail Area 12.7sq.m 137sq.ft

No 1 Jib 13.9sq.m 150sq.ft

No 2 Jib 6.9sq.m 75sq.ft

No 1 Genoa 21.3sq.m 230sq.ft

No 2 Genoa 16.7sq.m 180sq.ft



Links


Tomahawk 25 Details
http://www.tomahawk25.co.uk/images/pdfs/tomahawk%2025%20review.pdf


http://sailboatdata.com/VIEWRECORD.ASP?CLASS_ID=2938


Tomahawk Owners Association
http://www.tomahawk25.co.uk/


Good Photos of a Tomahawk 25 –Sold
http://essex.boatshed.com/tomahawk_25-boat-24612.html


Tomahawk 25 for Sale £6,500
http://www.plymouthboatsforsale.com/images/bw-09-Edna-Rose-Tomahawk25-A4.pdf


Tomahawk 25 for Sale £7,995
http://yachts.apolloduck.com/display.phtml?aid=154709


Tomahawk 25 for Sale £10,290
http://yachts.apolloduck.ie/display.phtml?aid=129530

No Boat Building Today

Trapped

Action Man

Today was a time for keeping appointments and looking after a great-grandchild. My wife and I did the early morning shopping with the help of the little whippersnapper; then it was time for the first appointment at a local clinic for the optician to examine my wife’s eyes. While that was being done, the tiny lad entertained me at a play park by climbing frames, sliding on slides, swinging on swings and running for the sheer joy of it. Falling into mud and getting the bottoms of his trousers wet was all part of the fun. Sodden grass and mud were the complementary ingredients that made for a fine outing.


After lunch it was time for my dental appointment and the extraction of a very recalcitrant, rotten tooth that did not want to part from a jaw where it had lodged for more than seven decades. But the gentle maiden with the needle and pincers had a stronger will, and by brute force she levered the stubborn object to and fro until the root gave way. She placed a wad of encapsulated cotton wool into the cavity and told me to bite on it for twenty minutes, by which time the blood should have congealed and the anaesthetic worn off.


She was right. Feeling returned to my lips and gums, and the blood stopped flowing. I could talk again and look quite normal after having the appearance of one stricken with a stroke, the side of my face limp and loose and the corner of my mouth turned down. Back at home I gratefully removed the bloodstained wad that partially protruded from my lips while enhancing the grotesque image of a stroke victim.


I examined the instructions for those who have tooth extractions and bewailed the fact that I was to be denied hot drinks for the rest of the day and that I should have to rinse my mouth with hot salty water after every meal for the next five days. Avoidance of alcohol was not a problem, as I seldom drink it, except on special celebratory occasions, even then, just a wee dram. If pain should set in, I could take refuge by helping myself to Paracetamol tablets, and as a last resort I could phone the advice line. I wasn’t to rinse my mouth today, and avoid strenuous exercise, as if I felt like doing it!


And so the day flashed by, and soon it was dark. ‘Sharpy’, my boat in the making, would have to wait until an appropriate moment when I shall use my tools to continue her creation and shape her into a vessel with a joyful spirit.

End of an Extraordinarily Brilliant Sailing Season

Docking

Lift-off

Flying High

Hosing

All good things come to an end, but that doesn’t take away from the goodness. That which was good was good and shall be for evermore. All the good times I had sailing ‘Ladybird’ this year can never be taken away. I shall remember them for as long as I live.


As I saw her being lifted from the water at the end of an extraordinarily brilliant season of sailing, I thanked God for the enjoyment He graciously bestowed upon me. It is only by God’s mercy that we receive any good things*. We have no ‘human rights’ to receive them. There is nothing fair and equal in this world, no matter how dedicated politicians and do-gooders would try to have us believe, and their efforts will never achieve their utopian dreams. People are not born equal. We all know the truth that we are all born very unequal.


Those of us who sail boats can trace back to the origin of our love of sailing, some like me for more than sixty years, and others perhaps for only months. Circumstances brought us to our passion; in my case the chance that in my youth I lived only a few yards from a very inspiring man who built and sailed small craft. He encouraged me to build a canvas canoe and rig her with sails, and from that time onwards a tiny spark ignited a flame in my heart that in time has engulfed a forest and goes on consuming more and more of my life, revitalizing with each new experience of boat ownership and adventures on the water.


The summer of 2010 was as good as it comes from a thousand mile cruise along the south coast of England, mostly alone aboard the Seawych ‘Ladybird’. I met numerous people, friends and relatives; visited many ports, rivers and marinas, and I had some very challenging sailing, particularly around Portland Bill on the return passage. On such an occasion when through unexpected circumstances because of a strong wind that was not forecast, I found myself sailing on the edge. I would not have chosen to be in those breaking seas, but I had no option. I was there because God wanted me to be there; I put my faith in Him and He watched my every move as His waves gave me the ride of my life. Excitement and exhilaration could not be equalled. Would my little boat be pooped? Would she broach and be filled with tons of water?


Weymouth Harbour was never so lovely. The sun shone, and there was little hint of the wind at sea. I climbed the gangway and headed for the fish and chip shop just before closing time. Never so delicious was the taste of cod and chips, laced with vinegar and salt.



*Matthew 7:11, James 1:17, John 3:27

Building ‘Sharpy’ Part 16

As I suspected would be the case, I was unable to do any boatbuilding today, but I have a photo from Mr. Anonymous who is building a ‘Sharpy’ in the USA. The photograph shows two unfinished moulded ballast weights for the keel, plus the mould and a pattern for the mould.


Derek’s building plan gives full details of the lifting keel, along with an explanatory note saying that the weights are made from 1.5 millimetre lead flashing. His article about his boat in Water Craft Magazine, number 37, explains that he made a template and cut 96 pieces and glued them together with contact adhesive. This took him a long time, because of the period required for waiting while the glue became touch dry. Fumes were a bit of problem. He would have preferred to have the weights cast at a local foundry, but they would not do it.


Derek gives a cautionary note with the study plans that the boat is suitable for being built by experienced builders who have access to metal working facilities. Apart from the ballast weights, I shall have the stainless steel fittings made professionally. In fact, I’m waiting for a quotation from Belmar Engineering who makes fittings for Fairline and Sunseeker. Those who can do things like turning stainless steel on a lathe will not have a problem, but if you want to avoid the expense of having the metalwork done for you, I feel sure that a determined person will find ways of improvising. Necessity is the mother of invention.



Link


More details about the ballast weights and the keel
http://bills-log.blogspot.com/2010/10/building-sharpy-part-3.html

Belmar Engineering
http://www.belmarengineering.com/

Water Craft Magazine (Back Issue for # 37 available for £6.00, including postage)
http://watercraft-magazine.com/

Building ‘Sharpy’ Part 15

Transom Assembled


My estimate of how long it would take me to finish the remaining parts of the transom and assemble them was way out. I thought the job would only take an hour or so, but it actually took six hours and twenty minutes - that’s including joining the pieces together with screws and epoxy. I had not taken into consideration the time it would take to shape and bevel the cleat edges so that transom would slot snugly into place when fitting it to the hull panels.


This job was a bit like building the Temple in Jerusalem which took place during King Solomon’s reign. The first stone was laid in about 966 BC and it took seven years and six months to complete the building. There was to be minimal noise during the construction, as would befit the nature of the building; therefore the huge stones were exactly shaped and pre-fitted at the quarry before being rolled on rollers to the building site so that they could be slotted into place.


Maybe I’ll get around to fashioning the inner stem post tomorrow, that’s if nothing crops up to prevent me doing it.

Building ‘Sharpy’ Part 14

'V'-shaped Stern Post

Transom bits (Less two pieces I have yet to make)

At last I was able to make a start at building the transom. In all, there are nine pieces that have to be shaped and glued together: there’s the central five-sided stern post, six edge cleats, all with angled sides, and two panels of plywood. Unlike any other transom I’ve seen, this one slopes forward to give a streamlined appearance, and it has a cross-section in the form of the letter ‘v’. It will look elegant when it is finished, but the construction needs some precision so that the hull side panels and the floor panel will fit it exactly. They will butt directly onto the inner edges of the transom panels. The aft deck panel will be fitted to the upper edges of the transom and their associated cleats.


I shall need at least an hour, perhaps two, to finish shaping and gluing the parts together, but if all goes well, I shall be very satisfied with the end result. Then I shall need to fashion the stem post, so that I can do a trial assembly of the side panels and the frames, but not until I have fitted the sheer strakes and the chine logs to the side panels.


Building ‘Sharpy’ is giving me an enormous amount of pleasure and satisfaction. For me, there’s little that can stimulate and excite me as much as using my hands to create an individual piece of craftsmanship in the form of a sailing vessel, especially one tailored for my own use. The expectation and thrill of sailing her, urges me on to see the job through to completion. How long that will take is anyone’s guess.

Building ‘Sharpy’ Part 13

Sometimes things don’t go as planned, and that happened today. I thought I would be able make the backing pads for the side panel butt joints, shape the inner stem post and build the two part transom. In fact I didn’t get around to doing any of them. Instead I reshaped the side panels and worked out where the frames would be joined to them.



The other day when I cut the side panels I thought there was something wrong with them, because the chine edges didn’t flow smoothly. Today, when I checked their measurements I discovered the aft side panels were too wide. I had inadvertently made the ends that will join the transom too long, and as the bottom corner where it joins the transom was a datum point the measurements for making the chine line were out. Fortunately, I was able to trim the panels to rectify the matter.



Before it got dark I was able to clean up the frames by using a file to remove dribbles of hardened epoxy. I finished them by lightly planning their edges and sanding them.



I’m not going to make any predictions when or what I shall do next, because nothing is certain in this life. One minute I can be fine, the next, I may be on my back with flu. With that in mind, boatbuilding is an adventure. An adventure is something started that has an unknown end. The outcome cannot be guaranteed! ........... Oh, only the other day, I likened building a boat to being on a trek of a thousand miles which is accomplished by taking one step at a time, and as long the walker keeps stepping forwards he will reach his journey’s end. On that basis I can be certain that I shall complete the boat if I keep working at it, but I can’t be certain I’ll keep going!

Building ‘Sharpy’ Part 12

Frames in the making

Frames complete with edge strips

I’ve had a satisfying day working on the four frames. Each frame has five sides that are reinforced with strips of wood. They are held in place with small, brass panel pins and epoxy. I first made the strips of wood; then using a pencil I marked where they would be tacked to the frames. Frames number one and two have their strips on the forward side, and frames three and four have their strips on the aft side. Before applying the epoxy, I hammered panel pins through the plywood frames so that their tips just broke through the surface where the epoxy would be applied. Having applied the epoxy to all the surfaces, I simply pressed the strips onto the tips of the panel pins and turned the frames over so that I could drive the pins home.


Tomorrow, I may be able to make the butt joints for the side panels, form the transom into its shape and fashion the inner stem post.

Building ‘Sharpy’ Part 11

Side Panels

Today I did a total of 4 hours in the garage. I worked on the forward side panels and smoothed the edges of the frames. I have now cut out the hull side panels, but not the keel box support frame, which can only be done when the side panels have been assembled to form the shape of the boat. The reason for this is that the exact dimensions for the keel box support frame cannot be known until the side panels have been joined to all four frames, and the two-part transom. When they have been glued together, including the internal stem post, the panels for the bottom of the boat can be cut to size and fitted. It is important that the chine logs and sheer strakes have first been glued to the side panels before they are assembled to form the shape of the boat.


I shall have to consider whether to thicken the three-eighths plywood frames along their edges for better adhesion and to give more bulk for the nails or screws that will hold them in place to the side panels. Mr. Anonymous, who is building a ‘Sharpy’ in the US, did thicken the sides of his frames by gluing a beading to them. There will be no need to thicken the keel box support frame because it is made from a 6 millimetres thick piece of plywood. The plans show an epoxy fillet on the forward side of frame 3 to which the forward end of the keel box is joined. That makes a lot of sense, because that is the area where most stress will be located because of the forces imposed by the keel. It would be prudent to put epoxy fillets on both sides of frame number 3 because it also takes the load of the keel where the Bowden cable runs over the top of a pulley located in a bracket at the forward end of the cockpit.


My next job will be to make the internal stem piece and the internal edge supports for the transom, because until they are in place, I cannot do a trial assembly of the side panels to find out if they fit properly to the frames. Only then, if all the edges line up can I glue the chine logs and sheer strake to the side panels before the final assembly.


Because Derek Munnion does not include a building instruction manual with the boat plans, builders have to work out the order of assembly, but if there is a problem, Derek is always pleased to offer advice over the phone, or by email.


He is currently changing his Internet Supplier; therefore his old email address is defunct. When he gives me his new email address, I’ll post it here at my Blog. Meanwhile if you want plans, please contact me, either through the Blog comments page, or by email to: barnacleid@yahoo.co.uk . I’ll put you in touch with Derek. Plans are currently £40.00 for UK residents and slightly more for those who live elsewhere in Europe, the USA or another country. Study plans are £4.00 worldwide.