This is the 3rd blog post of a new series. It’s part of a new focus on extending the word count, going into a bit more depth on the chosen subject and being more disciplined on publishing a post once a week. The first post set the scene and direction for the series and the second focussed on my passion for brass bands.
Yacht ownership – a dream too far?
Another passion has been sailing. I pursued my sailing dream when I bought my own 30’ wooden yacht a few months later. I bought her from a doctor in Falmouth, Cornwall and my wife and son crewed for me as we sailed her back to Poole, my home port. Over the years we have explored the local area from Portland in the west to the Solent in the west, restricting ourselves exclusively to day sailing. But then life got busy, and we spent less and less time with the boat. Covid was the final straw and for the last few years she has been on hard standing in a boatyard.
A few weeks ago, the boatyard contacted me to say that the boat was looking a bit neglected. As I drove down to the check her over, I felt anxious about what I would find. Sure enough, she was looking in need of some care. Two of the port stations had collapsed inwards and in doing so caused damage to the deck. What was worse however was when I opened the hatch and investigated the cabin. Rainwater had been leaking through the damaged deck and there was about 2’ of water in the bottom of the boat above the floor. I was shocked at the extent of the damage. Initially, I started to plan out a project of restoration. I pumped out the water but as my head began to overrule my heart, I realised that the damage had gone too far, and I did not have the time or resources for a restoration.
Dinghy sailing in Docklands.
It all started in 2002 when I booked myself and my 14-year-old son on a RYA dinghy sailing course in the Docklands area of East London. Over 2 weekends we did the RYA I and RYA II course. In the first week we used wayfarer dinghies and in the second week we upgraded to a bosun.
For the most part we had good weather, until the last Sunday when the temperature dropped and there was thick, grey cloud cover. It was this day that our instructors chose to teach us how to respond if we capsized. We first had to purposely capsize our dinghy. With a 2-man crew, one person had to be next to the upside of the boat and the other person went round to the underside. The person on the underside positioned themselves on the daggerboard and heaved on the ‘sheets’ (ropes controlling the sails) using their weight to bring the dinghy upright. At the same time, the other crew member was to position themselves to roll into the boat as the submerged side of the boat came up out of the water.
Ideally the instructors wanted us to do this exercise twice with each crew member taking their turn in each position. However, after our first successful recovery I looked at my son. He was shivering uncontrollably with the cold and his lips and complexion had turned grey. With the instructors’ permission, we restricted our capsize exercise to just the one recovery.
Yacht sailing – training and trips
When I was in my late 40’s and early 50’s I went on sailing courses where I got hands on experience of handling a 30’ yacht. I also covered theory and passed the yacht master theory exam. My sailing experience was mainly around Poole harbour and the Solent.
I remember one training session in Poole harbour. I slept on board the training yacht with two other would be sailors, both of whom had a military background and were looking to develop a skill for when they retired. Our trainer was an experienced sailor who had written a few books on sailing and was a respected trainer. We woke to strong winds and rain. As we waited for our trainer, we speculated on what training we would undertake. Our guess was that we would focus on something like tying knots or some activity that could be undertaken whilst moored up. Surely, we wouldn’t be taking the boat out in this weather! How wrong we were.
Our trainer arrived just after we had finished clearing up after breakfast. He instructed us to set the sails, fully reefed. We were off to Swanage. This meant leaving the calm waters of Poole harbour out into Weymouth Bay where the winds were strong, and the sea state was rough. I looked at my fellow trainees to gauge their reaction. But they were impassive and if they felt nervous, it didn’t show. We dressed in our sailing gear, prepared the sails, and headed out. We left Poole harbour past the chain ferry, into the Swash Channel and headed toward the famous “Old Harry” sea stack. As we rounded “Old Harry”, the wind grew stronger still and the sea state was turbulent. The wind was head on from our direction of travel and we could only progress by making a series of tacks. It was hairy and my first exposure to such conditions. We were the only yacht out on the seas. I felt a rising anxiety and looked at my two fellow students and our instructor. They continued to remain calm and exuded confidence. My job was to keep the tension in the main sail by pulling in or releasing the kicking strap. My instructor turned to me on one occasion and asked whether I wanted to capsize. I said “no”. “Well release the kicking strap, then.” There was no anger or frustration in his voice. It was just an instruction. I released the strap slightly and the yacht returned to a more upright position. It was only a small adjustment, but it increased my confidence that we were in good hands.
It was a hair-raising experience that pushed me way out of my comfort zone. But it was also exhilarating and confidence building. It was an experience that I would later draw on.
I got the opportunity to crew a couple of yacht deliveries. The first was for a Swedish couple who had bought a yacht in Hamble on the south coast of England and wanted it delivered to their nearest port in Sweden. It was a journey of about 1,000 miles along the south coast to Dover, then across the North Sea to Hanstholm in Denmark and the final leg to Mollosund in Sweden. It was April 2011 and quite cold, but we had prevailing south westerly wind for the whole trip. The weather worsened as we got to Dover, so we pulled in for an overnight stop in the harbour. The following day we set out again and the conditions felt like those I experienced on the Swanage training trip. I took the helm as we sailed out and headed past Goodwin Sands. On one occasion I looked behind the boat only to be faced by a wall of water swelling and following us. I had no fear, only respect for the conditions but I was so grateful for what I had learned earlier. My two crew mates and I built a strong rapport and trust. We established a good routine of 3 hours on watch and 6 hours off. And we all took turns cooking meals.
The second trip was from Lagos, Portugal to Lymington on the south coast of England. It was a similar distance to my first yacht delivery, but this time I would be crewing on a 46’ yacht. It was much ‘stiffer’ than the 30’ yacht and didn’t roll quite as much. It was a few months after the Sweden trip, and we were a lot further south; it was a lot hotter. Again, there was a crew of three. We didn’t develop quite the same rapport as the previous crew. The skipper would have moments of rage, which kind of spoiled the enjoyment. But it was a memorable trip. On two occasions we were accompanied by a pod of curious dolphins. They jumped out of the water alongside us and ahead of the bow. It was the first and, so far, only time that I witnessed this behaviour. I still feel joyful at the memory.
So, is my sailing dream over? I have wonderful sailing memories. It is hard to envisage a future without sailing. The dream is still alive, but for now it is hard to see past my current setback. I need to process my guilt, disappointment and loss. I remember in my teenage years attending a course led by Selwyn Hughes. It had a session entitled “turning setbacks into springboards”. My notes from that course are long gone, but clearly, I still need to draw on the teaching.
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