Thank you God, it's Saturday. It's been a long week at work, doing not too much except, well 'Clare' my humble assistant has been on a week long holiday in theEnglish Riviera The phones have not stopped ringing and when I have answered the home phone here this morning I have done it in my poshest english accent (is that possible for a kiwi?) reciting the proud company name only to get half way through the good morning to realise what a dork I sound. Dialing 9 before making a call is another bad habit.
The Princess and I have just been down to the Yacht Haven for coffee and to see all the Beneteau yachts getting ready for battle in the Beneteau Cup today and tommorrow. Alas the mighty Whislter and her trusty Skipper and Crew are resting agian this weekend ready for the all important race to Alderney next weekend to keep up their good standing in the JOG offshore series.
Gus (my french friend Catherine's Son) is still here staying, having got himself a handy little job at the Island Sailing Club at the start of the summer season only to announce to me yesterday that he got the 'sack'! Hmmm, I questioned him about this, as I find it rather disturbing that an articulate young man that has had a great education and is desperate to save money for Uni, gets the sack at a pretty laid back sailing club after only 5 weeks of working there as a waiter. Er, seems he has an attitude problem.....yep, that will do it, that will get you the boot, if you have a glum face, your late a few times, you don't look like your enjoying yourself and making the members feel good. And of course you don't make the boss feel like he is doing you a favour, you will get a boot right up the rectum and outta there!!
So, 8.30am this morning, I was up there (outside his bedroom) getting his lazy typically 19 year old ass outta the scratching pit to go find some other form of employment. If he isn't going to walk the streets and find something, I can always get him up a ladder cleaning the windows round here, right? I know he won't want that, so hey presto, after the Princess and I get back from the Haven from Coffee and a walk, we find, he is up and gone! Great news......Hope he finds something, otherwise it will be back up to London, to the smog, the crowded overheated tubes and back off to stay with his 'old man'.
I woke up this morning in realisation that my 'best friend' back in New Zealand is gong to be 40 this Christmas Day coming.......for years in our 20's we have dreamed of a flashy holiday somewhere like Hawaii, and even talked about it in January when I was home over the summer..but we haven't really done anything about it yet........I have booked a holiday for September out in Antigua, (of course a sailing holiday) but I need to seriously think about this Christmas and getting her out of NZ to do at least one thing we always talked about.....she has three adorable children, thankfully, as I have now pretty much given up the idea of ever having any of my own. She did if for me, thanks mate!! Anyway, this holiday, I can't help thinking now that Hawaii is just not the place it used to be when I was 18. It all seems a bit over commericailised and somewhat.....busy! There are far nicer places on earth to visit, but trying to find a half way point is going to be difficult......I will have to have a good think about it, surf the net a bit and come up with something stunning...
Weather is dull her today, not really nice, not really unplesant, just bland bland bland...My older sibling and his gf have been in Cork, Ireland all week at the Cork Week regatta sailing so it's sorta been a bit quiet. It will be good to go and see them one night next week when they are back.
I better push off now and go do some thing constructive instead of sitting here writing a bunch of nonsense..........
Saturday, July 17, 2004
Friday, July 16, 2004
Skippers Report on Round the Island Race
Once again there was a vague and undefined sense of foreboding clouding the skippers mind before the weekend; maybe something to do with the 1,600+ boats expected on the water, or perhaps the 0700 start time… or maybe something else.
The team gathered and Whistler departed for Cowes, anticipating a busy port but with the commitment of a space at Shepherds Wharf. It was busy but in a stroke of luck we identified a space alongside our chums Baby Blue, who still had a case of beer on board that by rights was ours! They warned off another boat and we were there…
…for at least 5 minutes before the Harbour Master moved us on - it's a long story! The brief sunshine that had played upon the skipper's brow was replaced by a gloomy frown…
…which lifted when we found a last minute space in East Cowes…
…and then reappeared after a frantic 25-point turn in a space only 40' long and the attitude of the knobheads in “Alchemist” an X362, that we had rafted alongside.
A few quiet beers and off to bed, only to be disturbed by the arrival of the crew of the boat moored inside both Whistler and Alchemist (obviously their chums), deposited off the RYS launch and sounding like the bastard off-spring of an ill-considered mating of the Chelsea Pony Club and Monty Python's “Upper Class Twit of the Year; as you can tell this didn't ruffle the skipper a bit!
Race day dawned (bloody early for those of us on the boat); we moved to allow the boats inside to leave, parked up and settled down to await the arrival of the rest of the crew and breakfast…
… and waited…
… and waited…
… and waited…
Eventually, after a few phone calls, we set off to carry out a mid-Medina crew and breakfast transfer and motor out to the start. The mainsail went up but the first inkling that something was not quite right was the attachment of the genoa halyard, not to the head of the sail but to the tack. Obviously a simple error, perhaps confusion caused by the plethora of sails visible, of all shapes and sizes, on the Thames barges towering above the fleet. Or were more sinister forces at work?
We started and hit the kite straight away but quite quickly decided not to try and hang on to it (having the benefit of being well down the fleet and seeing the boats ahead having trouble!). Back to the No:1 and we settled down to reach down the Solent. As we went through Hurst and could see down to the Needles, it was getting very windy and more than a handful to keep going.
At the Needles we went wide and tried to hang on out to get some room for a headsail change but ended up wellied by a combination of wind and wave, resulting in a near knock-down (missed by the skipper, which says something about his awareness!)
Round the back we changed to the No:3 and pressed on, not as close inshore as some, but as we found near St Cath's, still very much up with the likes of Tai-Pan and Ocean Cavalier, and ahead of Puckoon.
We actually had to start doing some tacking and were “rewarded” by the sight of “half-man/half-monkey/half-sloth” trying to coax or tickle the genoa back inside the lifelines with just one finger!
It was windy and lumpy out there and sitting on the rail was a real pleasure with doses of wind, water and, occasionally, belches of last night's beer coming down the line! It was taking it's toll and the final straw for one member of the crew was trying to pack the No:1 into it's bag whilst on the bow - he looked like he would have preferred to dump the sail and have himself zipped into the bag and tucked below! Whilst we avoided an epidemic of vomiting, the fishes were fed pretty well!
Luckily we also avoided a complete twat in one of the ISC classes, who didn't realize that port/starboard applied to him and didn't try to clear our way until we were initiating an emergency duck - his late move put us on a collision course but with a bit of panic we bore off further and, with the rail crew hurriedly pulling legs in, the idiot shot down our side, no more than one foot away, with the boom swinging across the cockpit. The skipper retained sufficient composure to unload a full broadside of obscene comment at the hapless wankers, before visiting the heads to check his underwear!
Somewhere around here Orangemotored past - on lap two, the show-offs, although it was a nice photo opportunity and pretty impressive!
We started to go off the boil after St Cath's but boldly went for the kite at Bembridge; not a good move! A duff call from the skipper - wrong side - combined with some general lassitude, gusting winds and lumpy sea, resulted in a major broach and a complete lack of control! Sod that for a laugh it would be back to the genoa - shouting, flapping, pulling, pushing - throughout it all the skipper kept up a constant flow of calm, considered, helpful and motivational advice… mmm!
Without the kite we sailed a strange line to the forts and then kept on the rhumb line to the finish, which meant that we lost further ground on the inside boats. There was the consolation of our 10.5-knot speed and seeing several people aground on Ryde Sands.
We bashed up toward the finish and went for the kite off Norris only for the wind to vanish behind the hill and other boats - what next? Luckily, the finish - it was over!
A tough old day and some lessons to be learned by everyone!!!!
Final result - 37th out of 56
The team gathered and Whistler departed for Cowes, anticipating a busy port but with the commitment of a space at Shepherds Wharf. It was busy but in a stroke of luck we identified a space alongside our chums Baby Blue, who still had a case of beer on board that by rights was ours! They warned off another boat and we were there…
…for at least 5 minutes before the Harbour Master moved us on - it's a long story! The brief sunshine that had played upon the skipper's brow was replaced by a gloomy frown…
…which lifted when we found a last minute space in East Cowes…
…and then reappeared after a frantic 25-point turn in a space only 40' long and the attitude of the knobheads in “Alchemist” an X362, that we had rafted alongside.
A few quiet beers and off to bed, only to be disturbed by the arrival of the crew of the boat moored inside both Whistler and Alchemist (obviously their chums), deposited off the RYS launch and sounding like the bastard off-spring of an ill-considered mating of the Chelsea Pony Club and Monty Python's “Upper Class Twit of the Year; as you can tell this didn't ruffle the skipper a bit!
Race day dawned (bloody early for those of us on the boat); we moved to allow the boats inside to leave, parked up and settled down to await the arrival of the rest of the crew and breakfast…
… and waited…
… and waited…
… and waited…
Eventually, after a few phone calls, we set off to carry out a mid-Medina crew and breakfast transfer and motor out to the start. The mainsail went up but the first inkling that something was not quite right was the attachment of the genoa halyard, not to the head of the sail but to the tack. Obviously a simple error, perhaps confusion caused by the plethora of sails visible, of all shapes and sizes, on the Thames barges towering above the fleet. Or were more sinister forces at work?
We started and hit the kite straight away but quite quickly decided not to try and hang on to it (having the benefit of being well down the fleet and seeing the boats ahead having trouble!). Back to the No:1 and we settled down to reach down the Solent. As we went through Hurst and could see down to the Needles, it was getting very windy and more than a handful to keep going.
At the Needles we went wide and tried to hang on out to get some room for a headsail change but ended up wellied by a combination of wind and wave, resulting in a near knock-down (missed by the skipper, which says something about his awareness!)
Round the back we changed to the No:3 and pressed on, not as close inshore as some, but as we found near St Cath's, still very much up with the likes of Tai-Pan and Ocean Cavalier, and ahead of Puckoon.
We actually had to start doing some tacking and were “rewarded” by the sight of “half-man/half-monkey/half-sloth” trying to coax or tickle the genoa back inside the lifelines with just one finger!
It was windy and lumpy out there and sitting on the rail was a real pleasure with doses of wind, water and, occasionally, belches of last night's beer coming down the line! It was taking it's toll and the final straw for one member of the crew was trying to pack the No:1 into it's bag whilst on the bow - he looked like he would have preferred to dump the sail and have himself zipped into the bag and tucked below! Whilst we avoided an epidemic of vomiting, the fishes were fed pretty well!
Luckily we also avoided a complete twat in one of the ISC classes, who didn't realize that port/starboard applied to him and didn't try to clear our way until we were initiating an emergency duck - his late move put us on a collision course but with a bit of panic we bore off further and, with the rail crew hurriedly pulling legs in, the idiot shot down our side, no more than one foot away, with the boom swinging across the cockpit. The skipper retained sufficient composure to unload a full broadside of obscene comment at the hapless wankers, before visiting the heads to check his underwear!
Somewhere around here Orangemotored past - on lap two, the show-offs, although it was a nice photo opportunity and pretty impressive!
We started to go off the boil after St Cath's but boldly went for the kite at Bembridge; not a good move! A duff call from the skipper - wrong side - combined with some general lassitude, gusting winds and lumpy sea, resulted in a major broach and a complete lack of control! Sod that for a laugh it would be back to the genoa - shouting, flapping, pulling, pushing - throughout it all the skipper kept up a constant flow of calm, considered, helpful and motivational advice… mmm!
Without the kite we sailed a strange line to the forts and then kept on the rhumb line to the finish, which meant that we lost further ground on the inside boats. There was the consolation of our 10.5-knot speed and seeing several people aground on Ryde Sands.
We bashed up toward the finish and went for the kite off Norris only for the wind to vanish behind the hill and other boats - what next? Luckily, the finish - it was over!
A tough old day and some lessons to be learned by everyone!!!!
Final result - 37th out of 56
Skippers Report on the RLYC “Beating Up the Bay” Regatta
Skippers Report on the RLYC “Beating Up the Bay” Regatta
This is the “official” published report – look out for the important bit near the end!
The First 31.7 racing fleet is growing rapidly, with 20+ boats competing in Spi Ouest this year, and another large turnout expected in Cork Week.The Royal Lymington Yacht Club "Beating up the Bay" Regatta held on 12th and 13th June gave the opportunity for the Solent fleet to pit their wits against each other for the first time in a separate class. Racing was close, with places constantly changing and seconds separating many results. Going into the final race the top three boats were on level points, but it was the Bateson family on Starspray who finally emerged the winner. The Royal Lymington also ran a J109 and an IRC event as part of the regatta.Place Boat Sails Points1 Starspray Quantum 82 Tai-Pan Sobstad 93 Kurketrekker Banks 10Three windward lewards were raced each day. With experience varying from the seasoned campaigners of Tai-Pan, to the new crew on Chied, who had only spent a few months on the boat, the fleet was more spread out in the early racing in Christchurch Bay. However, the back of the fleet went up a steep learning curve, and the racing on the Sunday was increasingly tight. David Jobson’s Tai-Pan set the early pace. Having traded the lead with Peter Bateson’s Starspray throughout the first race, Tai-Pan took advantage of a wipeout by Starspray in the blustery conditions to sail through and take the first bullet. Tai-Pan also made better work of 60 degree windshifts in the next race to take a second win ahead of Stephen Parry’s Kurketrekker. In race three Kurketrekker's bright pink and blue spinnaker marked the front of the fleet for much of the race. Tai-Pan finished third on the water, but was bumped up to second after Kurketrekker successfully protested Starspray for a mark rounding incident.Sunday morning conditions were perfect for sunbathing, but of little use for sailing and crews had the chance to sleep off their headaches from too much hospitality at the Royal Lymington the previous evening in an hour-long delay before a sea breeze kicked in. The first race got under way in 8-10kts, with the whole fleet starting well and a lot of places exchanged on the first beat. Tai-Pan was first to the windward mark in front of Kurketrekker, but it was her turn to be overtaken as Starspray found the best wind on the left side of the run to take a lead she held, finishing in front of Kurketrekker with Tai-Pan third. Starspray’s upwind speed proved crucial in the next race, to take her second win ahead of Kurketrekker with Tai-Pan in third. Further down the fleet, Race 4 saw Cool Penguin and Whistler only 18 seconds apart whilst Race 5 had Baby Blue, Whistler and Puckoon in 5th to 7th places separated by 35 seconds. The results meant that, after the one discard, the top three boats were equal on points going into the final race. To finish the series, race officer Tony Blatchford set a course with one windward / leeward lap, before going off to North Head buoy and running through Hurst narrows, finishing after a short beat off the Lymington River.In 14-18kts, Starspray managed to stay in control under No1 genoa to take a 30 second lead at the windward mark, with Cool Penguin, Kurketrekker and Tai-Pan neck and neck behind. After a broad reach down to North Head, Starspray still led ahead of Tai-Pan, with Kurketrekker opting not to risk their 0.5oz spinnaker for the marginal reach up to Hurst. Starspray and Tai-Pan both carried kites up to Hurst, the proximity between the two meaning that a single broach would have decided both race and series. Both held on, and Starspray held a minute's lead at the leeward mark, eventually winning her third consecutive race by 47 seconds on corrected time, and the series by a point. Tai-Pan finished second in front of Kurketrekker, while Whistler battled back through the fleet to take fourth place in the race and series.With sponsorship from Ancasta and UK Sails, prizes were plentiful. Whistler and Baby Blue received ‘neither here nor there’ cases of beer for finishing mid-fleet on each of the days, while Chied won the ‘Spirit of Adventure Trophy’. The fleet now moves onto the Beneteau Cup on July 16-18, which will have a separate 31.7 division for the first time for this expanding fleet. David Jobson (Davidjobson@aol.com) has taken on running the 31.7 section of the Beneteau Owners' Association and it was thanks to him that the class was included in the regatta. He hopes next year's event will attract more 31.7s to the superb racing area in Christchurch Bay.
Final results
Race 1 - 4th
Race 2 - 4th
Race 3 - 7th
Race 4 - 5th
Race 5 - 6th
Race 6- 4th
Overall - 4th out of 8
Thursday, July 15, 2004
Loving families
My mother has just emailed me again and in her round about way she is saying that she is coming to the UK in September to torture me…… and my brother….........indefinitely……when there is no round trip ticket this would mean that things are not looking so crash hot…….
I guess she gets a bit lonely down there in NZ by herself, with no family around. Still she moved away from her family in the south part of the country ‘cause they drove her mad’. I wonder if she has thought about why my brother and I live almost 14,000 miles away on the other side of the planet.
I guess she gets a bit lonely down there in NZ by herself, with no family around. Still she moved away from her family in the south part of the country ‘cause they drove her mad’. I wonder if she has thought about why my brother and I live almost 14,000 miles away on the other side of the planet.
This is the Princess, she was born on 24 January 2004, her real name is Wiverley Firefly, but that is such a mouthful we call her by various names, but mostly she is called Princess or Leia.....our housekeeper calls her Poi Poi, she is confused (the housekeeper that is), born in South Africa, but 11 years in New Zealand, so she is reasonably cultured. This is the Princess the day before we moved to the island, looking pretty damn cute.
sailingkiwi
sailingkiwi
Wednesday, July 14, 2004
Cowes, Isle of Wight
Cowes, Isle of Wight - The Home of World Yachting
This is the home of world yachting, the beaches are sorta nice, especially on the south side of the island, even the tramps that live here have ocean front property for shelter during the day and night.....
This is the home of world yachting, the beaches are sorta nice, especially on the south side of the island, even the tramps that live here have ocean front property for shelter during the day and night.....
How to really race a yacht.........
Call seven friends Friday night, have them all meet you at your house at 7:00 am tomorrow, sharp.
Have your friends clean your house, and haul everything from the basement to the attic.
After the house is clean, everyone wraps themselves from head to toe in cling wrap.
All eight of you cram together in the bathtub. Point a large fan at the tub and turn the shower on cold
While yelling and swearing at your friends at the top of your voice, tear up 50 pound notes. Do this for six hours.
At the end of the six hours, everyone gets out of the bathtub and walks around the house, dripping wet.
Have all your friends clean your house again and take the stuff from the attic back to the basement, then take them all out to dinner and drink lots of lager.
Invite them to come back next weekend and do it again.
Have your friends clean your house, and haul everything from the basement to the attic.
After the house is clean, everyone wraps themselves from head to toe in cling wrap.
All eight of you cram together in the bathtub. Point a large fan at the tub and turn the shower on cold
While yelling and swearing at your friends at the top of your voice, tear up 50 pound notes. Do this for six hours.
At the end of the six hours, everyone gets out of the bathtub and walks around the house, dripping wet.
Have all your friends clean your house again and take the stuff from the attic back to the basement, then take them all out to dinner and drink lots of lager.
Invite them to come back next weekend and do it again.
What happened to those sunglasses?
Whistler's skipper doing a bit of quiet reading while becalmed!!!!
sailingkiwi
Whistler (mellow yellow) & Friends
Report from Whistler
Chastened by our retirement from the Nab Race, we prepared ourselves for St Vaast with a will; the skipper even took a day off work to learn the arcane mysteries of the magic black box that sits emitting light, draining power and frequently crashing in the navigation station!
Despite the best attempts of the armies of trolls who inhabit the vast, coned-off sprawl of England's motorways, the crew turned up within minutes of the appointed departure time; luckily our noble skipper had once again sacrificed some of his meagre annual leave allowance to ensure all was ready (or more accurately delegated all the work elsewhere).
We motored up the Solent in depressing weather with the skipper trying to decipher the various, conflicting weather forecasts and get a plan together… but spirits soared as we approached Cowes to be informed that not only were the rest of the crew (and provisions) waiting but that a fish and chip supper was awaiting us on the pontoon - top stuff and an excellent start to the evening!
Opting for the No:1 we had an averagely average (not overly surprising as this was the skipper's first start on helm for quite a while!) start but were moving nicely along with Tai-Pan and later Electron in company. You all know what happened as we approached the forts but we scraped past in the fluttering and dying breeze, although the skipper has a few more grey hairs! We also saw the lady in the window - perhaps next time the Race Committee could import a couple of ladies from Amsterdam and a red light just to liven it up a bit!
It is dispiriting to flap around when you still have 75 miles to go but we stuck at it, trying to keep Tai-Pan behind us. Electron and some others seemed to be going in towards the Island in hope of wind or avoiding the tide; we considered this but felt that at some time everyone would have to come out again, so stayed put - a good choice as it turned out! The wind filled a touch and we coasted towards Bembridge Ledge, which was getting busier as everyone converged. It could have become a little tense but then a miracle occurred and a gap opened in front of us which we ghosted through leaving the shouting and flapping behind - obviously the skipper's recent abstinence from pleasures of the flesh has paid off…
A little later we decided to try holding a kite which boosted speed but was dropping us down below the fleet and the rhumb line, so we decided to go back to the genoa after half an hour or so. It was at this time that our luck reversed… somehow Matt (the Muppet) bowman had contrived yet another of his wondrous, unsolvable puzzles using nothing more than the genoa and starboard spinnaker halyards and the forestay. Vital time was lost as we went bare headed to get things straight again. Spirits were dented and in the poor visibility with no one around it was easy to fear that we were well off the pace (again!) During the night we went back to the light kite as the wind backed and we went past a couple of boats (who spotted that we had it up, hoisted theirs and eventually came back past us…
We stayed pretty much on the rhumb line until well over half way across and then started to climb above it in anticipation of the most likely of the forecasts.
As the daylight grew spirits raised for two reasons - we could make out shapes of other competitors and we discovered that we had a new, secret weapon in our armoury - "Auto-Les" the tireless, Aussie who can helm all night and half the day fuelled on coffee and biscuits. We are thinking of cloning him (it worked on a sheep which we have heard is genetically quite similar to an Aussie …)
We were playing a game of trying to work out who was who from their kites as the wind strengthened. We peeled to the medium kite then as it veered and built went back to the No:1; it kept building and with the skipper back on the helm it got interesting! We considered the No:2 but by the time we had finished considering the wind had eased.
We had been tacking toward the shore in the wind and now had a nice line down the coast with, praise be, both Electron and Ocean Cavalier inside us - even better the various bits of electrical wizardry still offered a finish time that would see us inside the lock for a full day of carousing!
Once again the weather gods would use us as their playthings…
The three boat race continued in a dying and changing wind; it was difficult working out relative positions but we were determined to hang in there, particularly as Ocean Cavalier had beaten us by just over a minute on the drift race back from Cherbourg - could this be revenge?
Our decision to go inshore (as reported by others) was more of a desire for a change of scenery - well, being honest we had worked out that we could get a slight angle toward the line and would at least be moving because we would be going across the tide not straight into it and we would have to go that way at some time so it would keep spirits up at least! As we neared the line in a fickle wind Electron were slipping back but Ocean Cavalier followed us in hoisting their kite and were gaining. The skipper was using all his trimming and motivation skills with cries of "they are catching up, make us go faster". With a lot more activity than is usual on Whistler after 18 hours we kept climbing for speed and dropping off for the line to keep the pursuing and looming Ocean Cavalier at bay… it worked… just… was it 9 seconds over 18 hours?
We dropped the hook, had a beer, did some maths on who we could see and had a kip… woke up to see a lot more people had arrived during the afternoon… lock opened… wine flowed… beer was drunk… had another kip… woke up… motored home.
Great weekend!
sailingkiwi
Sod the Nab, bring on St Vaast
Report from Whistler (Class 4)
"Bring on the Nab Tower"
Stirring stuff from our Race 3 report, soon to be replaced with "where is the Nab Tower", "will we ever get round the Nab Tower" and "sod the Nab Tower, let's go home"
It had all started so well, refreshed from the usual conviviality in Gosport (now doubly dangerous as we are parked between Xploiter and a very friendly Irishman), after at least 4 ½ hours sleep, we set off and arrived exactly at the appointed minute to collect the rest of the fearless wave-warriors that make up "Team Whistler".
Fortified by egg and bacon rolls we made a cracking start (on Whistler all starts are "committee vessel starts" with the crew forming a committee on the vessel to overrule the skipper and tell him where to place the boat!) We picked up the pace as we went down the Solent and passed Ryde admirably well placed.
It is at this point that, with the benefit of the full 20:20 hindsight, we hold our hands up and say we celebrated just a smidge too early… We dropped off the wind, came off a very nice shift and went backwards through the fleet. Scholars of the classics will recognise words such as "hubris" and "nemesis"…
The wind started to go but we edged on. We kedged for a good 3 minutes (just to keep the bowman busy). In desperation as we went through holes in the wind (which began to resemble a pair of old underpants with more holes than wind), the crew sat there making "engine noises" to try and convince Whistler that she was under power - it worked once or twice! At sometime around four we crept round the Nab, hoisted the light kite and started to crawl home, finding the balance between boat speed and VMG to keep moving. We teased our way through the forts watching a procession of listless flapping sails up the Solent in the evening sun.
Would it be another Cherbourg? Sadly this time we were faced with the choice of kedging through a full flood tide in the hope that we could sail/drift from Ryde to the finish (potentially 8 hours away) or bailing out to the comfort of the pub a couple of nautical miles from where we drifted. A 6 to 1 vote, with the skipper democratically hiding his desperation for a pint, and the engine went on.
Disappointing but pretty inevitable. We still had a great sail for much of the day and a good laugh (generally obscene and depraved so I won't repeat it here!)
We'll be ready for St Vaast!
"Bring on the Nab Tower"
Stirring stuff from our Race 3 report, soon to be replaced with "where is the Nab Tower", "will we ever get round the Nab Tower" and "sod the Nab Tower, let's go home"
It had all started so well, refreshed from the usual conviviality in Gosport (now doubly dangerous as we are parked between Xploiter and a very friendly Irishman), after at least 4 ½ hours sleep, we set off and arrived exactly at the appointed minute to collect the rest of the fearless wave-warriors that make up "Team Whistler".
Fortified by egg and bacon rolls we made a cracking start (on Whistler all starts are "committee vessel starts" with the crew forming a committee on the vessel to overrule the skipper and tell him where to place the boat!) We picked up the pace as we went down the Solent and passed Ryde admirably well placed.
It is at this point that, with the benefit of the full 20:20 hindsight, we hold our hands up and say we celebrated just a smidge too early… We dropped off the wind, came off a very nice shift and went backwards through the fleet. Scholars of the classics will recognise words such as "hubris" and "nemesis"…
The wind started to go but we edged on. We kedged for a good 3 minutes (just to keep the bowman busy). In desperation as we went through holes in the wind (which began to resemble a pair of old underpants with more holes than wind), the crew sat there making "engine noises" to try and convince Whistler that she was under power - it worked once or twice! At sometime around four we crept round the Nab, hoisted the light kite and started to crawl home, finding the balance between boat speed and VMG to keep moving. We teased our way through the forts watching a procession of listless flapping sails up the Solent in the evening sun.
Would it be another Cherbourg? Sadly this time we were faced with the choice of kedging through a full flood tide in the hope that we could sail/drift from Ryde to the finish (potentially 8 hours away) or bailing out to the comfort of the pub a couple of nautical miles from where we drifted. A 6 to 1 vote, with the skipper democratically hiding his desperation for a pint, and the engine went on.
Disappointing but pretty inevitable. We still had a great sail for much of the day and a good laugh (generally obscene and depraved so I won't repeat it here!)
We'll be ready for St Vaast!
Race Report Cowes to Weymouth - 48 Nautical Miles
Report by "Tim the Helm" from Whistler
The intense race preparations for 'Team Whistler' started as usual on Friday evening with the crew turning up in dribs and drabs at 'The Castle' in Gosport. As it was our intention to motor up to Cowes that night, restraint was applied to the amount of alcohol consumed (by the Skipper anyway). So it was that once Bruce arrived at around 9pm, off we went to Cowes.
The remainder of the crew, Veronica and Matt, met us in the pub at Cowes along with Princess Leia and Jasper, their respective dogs. We were very impressed when Jasper, with encouragement from Matt, attempted to run through the entire canine Karma Sutra with the Princess. The evening also saw the debut performance (outside the kebab shop) by Matt the Bowman on the new 'Whistler' bugle, which we are threatening will be our ride-out accompaniment for Cowes Week. Apologies to the residents of Cowes for the awful racket emanating from this instrument of torture, there is more to come!
We had a cracking start, on the line, in a reasonable position and off we went up the Solent managing to keep many class 4 boats behind us. The tactic here was simply to stay in the deeper water to get full benefit from the tide and to stay out of the wind holes that could be clearly seen. This worked fine until we got to Hurst where a combination of light wind and the overfalls caught out a lot of boats, causing them to be pointing in all directions with little or no steerage. One such boat was Scarlet Jester who appeared to be sailing back up the Solent and we had to fend them off. Shortly after this we were in close quarters with them and, obviously referring to us, their Skipper was heard to announce "ready about, I want to get clear of this thing"! Thing? Thing? What kind of way is that to talk about a fellow competitor - only joking guys, you gave us all a laugh!
When the wind started to fill in, it was from different directions in different places, so it was interesting to see the fleet generally heading in the same direction, with some under spinnaker and some, including us almost close-hauled. Crossing Christchurch Bay, we started to believe that we were doing OK, as we seemed to have our own patch of wind all the way, with boats inside and outside us struggling in holes. We concentrated hard on staying out of them and managed to maintain our good progress, we were even managing to keep Independent Bear in our sights, but we soon understood why…
St. Albans Head, that's why! Admittedly, we knew the tide would turn foul before we got there, but there was no real indication as to how difficult it would be in the light wind. We tried everything - short tacking under the cliffs, long tacking out to sea, but we made very little progress. We arrived there at 1pm and finally got round at around after 7pm. We were surprised to see Independent Bear retiring here, and many other boats did as well. It was frustrating to see boats that were behind us, creep through inside and get round, including Electron, who we assumed would then race away and leave us.
It was at this point that the upbeat mood of 'Team Whistler' started to drop. Skipper lost his Oakleys over the side and your correspondent snapped when a crewmember said for the umpteenth time, "we are STILL near those lobster pots". The air went blue as I waxed lyrical about the lobster pots and insisted we were making progress - we weren't.
Once we were round, we decided to head straight for Weymouth in the hope that the wind would veer and free us (note form the Skipper - there was actually a lot more science behind this!). This seemed to pay off as we made solid progress across Weymouth Bay. As darkness fell, thoughts turned to food and whether we would make it to Weymouth in time for a curry, the arithmetic was done and no we wouldn't - b****r! The mood was lifted however when we saw a number of dolphins about 50 metres from our starboard side. They were there for about a minute or two before disappearing - amazing sight. Another highlight was 2 satellites passing overhead, clearly visible in the night sky.
Some way across the bay, we were suddenly aware of other boats around us, including Electron who were now behind us. We tried to keep quiet to not reveal our intentions, but they surely must have heard the incredible snoring of Tony the trimmer, who was enjoying one of many good sleeps (honestly guys, it was Tony and not our engine!) The wind eventually freed and strengthened enough to let us hoist the kite and increase speed sufficiently to pull away from Electron and overtake at least one other boat before finishing at around 0115, in what we hoped was a reasonable position.
After parking the boat, we had a beer or two while we watched a drunken idiot in a small motorboat, charge around the harbour. He aimed at a few of the moored boats and eventually disappeared, never to be seen again. Despite what we thought and said at the time, I hope he didn't come to any harm. We were then invited onto Aquaholix for a glass of wine - thanks girls; we will return the favour one day. At 3am, we decided to head back home with half the crew sleeping rather than stay for what remained of the night. So after spending over 16 hours to get to Weymouth, we stayed for less than two!
The motor back to Cowes was uneventful with the exception of the ritual renaming of St. Albans Head. In Whistler circles at least, it now includes a popular expletive beginning with 'F'. We feel that this renaming should be included in the next chart update…
Leaving Cowes after dropping some of the crew was spectacularly eventful! Just out of the main channel (thankfully), Whistler suffered a total engine electrical failure, so we dropped the hook to attempt a repair. We soon realised we were out of our depth technically and Sea Start were called, which was not a problem as it was a lovely day for sitting in Cowes Roads watching all the boats go by. However, whilst waiting we realised that the anchor warp was running astern in the same direction as the tide (huh?). We suspected that the warp had become wrapped around the keel, how did that happen? Sea Start fixed the electrics quickly enough, but we could not free the warp. It was about this time that, despite having the anchor ball displayed, a yacht sailing out of Cowes sailed into our starboard side, thankfully causing more damage to herself than the scratches sustained by 'Whistler'. We then had to cut the warp and lose the anchor to free it from the keel. To cap it all the throttle lever jammed (luckily in neutral) just as we turned onto our pontoon!!!!
None of this drama and grief could detract from our pleasure of the 3rd place that we feel we worked so hard for. Another great weekend!
The intense race preparations for 'Team Whistler' started as usual on Friday evening with the crew turning up in dribs and drabs at 'The Castle' in Gosport. As it was our intention to motor up to Cowes that night, restraint was applied to the amount of alcohol consumed (by the Skipper anyway). So it was that once Bruce arrived at around 9pm, off we went to Cowes.
The remainder of the crew, Veronica and Matt, met us in the pub at Cowes along with Princess Leia and Jasper, their respective dogs. We were very impressed when Jasper, with encouragement from Matt, attempted to run through the entire canine Karma Sutra with the Princess. The evening also saw the debut performance (outside the kebab shop) by Matt the Bowman on the new 'Whistler' bugle, which we are threatening will be our ride-out accompaniment for Cowes Week. Apologies to the residents of Cowes for the awful racket emanating from this instrument of torture, there is more to come!
We had a cracking start, on the line, in a reasonable position and off we went up the Solent managing to keep many class 4 boats behind us. The tactic here was simply to stay in the deeper water to get full benefit from the tide and to stay out of the wind holes that could be clearly seen. This worked fine until we got to Hurst where a combination of light wind and the overfalls caught out a lot of boats, causing them to be pointing in all directions with little or no steerage. One such boat was Scarlet Jester who appeared to be sailing back up the Solent and we had to fend them off. Shortly after this we were in close quarters with them and, obviously referring to us, their Skipper was heard to announce "ready about, I want to get clear of this thing"! Thing? Thing? What kind of way is that to talk about a fellow competitor - only joking guys, you gave us all a laugh!
When the wind started to fill in, it was from different directions in different places, so it was interesting to see the fleet generally heading in the same direction, with some under spinnaker and some, including us almost close-hauled. Crossing Christchurch Bay, we started to believe that we were doing OK, as we seemed to have our own patch of wind all the way, with boats inside and outside us struggling in holes. We concentrated hard on staying out of them and managed to maintain our good progress, we were even managing to keep Independent Bear in our sights, but we soon understood why…
St. Albans Head, that's why! Admittedly, we knew the tide would turn foul before we got there, but there was no real indication as to how difficult it would be in the light wind. We tried everything - short tacking under the cliffs, long tacking out to sea, but we made very little progress. We arrived there at 1pm and finally got round at around after 7pm. We were surprised to see Independent Bear retiring here, and many other boats did as well. It was frustrating to see boats that were behind us, creep through inside and get round, including Electron, who we assumed would then race away and leave us.
It was at this point that the upbeat mood of 'Team Whistler' started to drop. Skipper lost his Oakleys over the side and your correspondent snapped when a crewmember said for the umpteenth time, "we are STILL near those lobster pots". The air went blue as I waxed lyrical about the lobster pots and insisted we were making progress - we weren't.
Once we were round, we decided to head straight for Weymouth in the hope that the wind would veer and free us (note form the Skipper - there was actually a lot more science behind this!). This seemed to pay off as we made solid progress across Weymouth Bay. As darkness fell, thoughts turned to food and whether we would make it to Weymouth in time for a curry, the arithmetic was done and no we wouldn't - b****r! The mood was lifted however when we saw a number of dolphins about 50 metres from our starboard side. They were there for about a minute or two before disappearing - amazing sight. Another highlight was 2 satellites passing overhead, clearly visible in the night sky.
Some way across the bay, we were suddenly aware of other boats around us, including Electron who were now behind us. We tried to keep quiet to not reveal our intentions, but they surely must have heard the incredible snoring of Tony the trimmer, who was enjoying one of many good sleeps (honestly guys, it was Tony and not our engine!) The wind eventually freed and strengthened enough to let us hoist the kite and increase speed sufficiently to pull away from Electron and overtake at least one other boat before finishing at around 0115, in what we hoped was a reasonable position.
After parking the boat, we had a beer or two while we watched a drunken idiot in a small motorboat, charge around the harbour. He aimed at a few of the moored boats and eventually disappeared, never to be seen again. Despite what we thought and said at the time, I hope he didn't come to any harm. We were then invited onto Aquaholix for a glass of wine - thanks girls; we will return the favour one day. At 3am, we decided to head back home with half the crew sleeping rather than stay for what remained of the night. So after spending over 16 hours to get to Weymouth, we stayed for less than two!
The motor back to Cowes was uneventful with the exception of the ritual renaming of St. Albans Head. In Whistler circles at least, it now includes a popular expletive beginning with 'F'. We feel that this renaming should be included in the next chart update…
Leaving Cowes after dropping some of the crew was spectacularly eventful! Just out of the main channel (thankfully), Whistler suffered a total engine electrical failure, so we dropped the hook to attempt a repair. We soon realised we were out of our depth technically and Sea Start were called, which was not a problem as it was a lovely day for sitting in Cowes Roads watching all the boats go by. However, whilst waiting we realised that the anchor warp was running astern in the same direction as the tide (huh?). We suspected that the warp had become wrapped around the keel, how did that happen? Sea Start fixed the electrics quickly enough, but we could not free the warp. It was about this time that, despite having the anchor ball displayed, a yacht sailing out of Cowes sailed into our starboard side, thankfully causing more damage to herself than the scratches sustained by 'Whistler'. We then had to cut the warp and lose the anchor to free it from the keel. To cap it all the throttle lever jammed (luckily in neutral) just as we turned onto our pontoon!!!!
None of this drama and grief could detract from our pleasure of the 3rd place that we feel we worked so hard for. Another great weekend!
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
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Sir Peter Blake.........Sir!
Sir Peter Blake will go down in history as one of the world's great modern-day ocean sailors. He won the Whitbread round-the-world race, the Jules Verne Trophy for the fastest non-stop navigation of the globe, and the America's Cup - as head of the 1995 and 2000 America's Cup campaigns. Sir Peter (who earned a knighthood for his endeavours) was tragically killed by pirates in December 2001 while attempting to save the world's oceans and waterways through his own environmental project,blakexpeditions
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