Messing About With Boats

Because, if you've got a new boat and it isn't sailing season yet, you have to make sure it all works!

DNF: Finished

Blimey, over a week since my traumatic second attempt at sailing and here I am, at work, procrastinating and finally finishing the story. So, where was I? Ah yes....I had decided to give it another go.

The first part of the race was fine-ish. I mean, I am still crap at tacking; I can't tell where we are on the water (in relation to all the other boats), I still don't understand what he means when he says 'down wind', ' into the wind' and 'reaching', which, incidentally, is nothing to do with dry heaving; but I was able to look around a bit and the layout of the ropes in the new boat is less daunting so I was able to find my 'tweakers' and 'downhauls' much more easily. At one point we were coming 4th after having been last over the start line!

And then we capsized the first time.

I think it was probably my fault. Hey, I'm sure it was. I can't remember what I did though. It might have been a bit to do with Himself who was cursing and hollering something about the new tiller being 'unresponsive' and 'weird'. I had been afraid of this. The last time we sailed Himself was able to compensate for my incompetence with his genius sailing but then, he knew his boat very well. This time it was a new boat with a whole raft of idiosyncrasies and my general uselessness was more difficult to factor in. Anyway, we were in the drink.

The first thing that happened was that the boat immediately turned turtle. I was caught amongst the sails and ropes (as happened last time...only a LOT further from shore) and I struggled in the open sea to swim to the front of the boat. Himself meanwhile, was discovering that the design of this boat meant that he couldn't easily get up onto the hull to reach the centreboard as the body of the boat was too wide and slippy. With more tricks up his sleeve than Popeye, he kicked around underwater until he found the boom, then stood on it to give himself the extra inches he needed to reach up to the keel. Slowly but surely the boat began to turn over.

Meanwhile, I was swallowing water and trying to fight down panic as I held the nose of the boat and made my way down the side to get in at the stern, once it was righted. At the stern I met a new obstacle. This boat has a bar across the back (and not one dispensing rum, which I could have done with at that point), meaning that you have to haul yourself, your rubber boots full of water, your wet clothes, your sodden PFD and your lead like limbs, UP and over to get back in. I got stuck halfway.

See the bar at the back of this, the 2010 National Champion 'Jet Lagged'.
Our last boat did not have one.

"I can't do it..." I screamed,"I can't get in..."

"Please get in the boat."

Himself's voice was so desperate and pleading that I reached down into my diaphragm and gave an ungainly bellow, much as a ninja might whilst launching himself at an opponent, and hauled once more with all my might. I was back on board. Himself quickly followed and although I suggested right then and there that we head back to shore and give it a miss, he was undaunted and confidently issued instructions until I had; untangled the jib, rescued the whisker pole from over the side and rethreaded the jibsheet....a very tricky exercise with no glasses on.

We were now in last place.

Can I express to you how much I could not have cared less which place we were in?

We continued on; but now every tack was messy and felt dangerous. I didn't seem to be able to do anything right ( I was exhausted), the mast rotation handle (see left) was knocked out of position and didn't want to co-operate and Himself was wildly cursing the tiller which seemed less and less sensitive at every tack. We were on the last leg when the inevitable happened. We were in again.

This time it was definitely my fault. I couldn't get the mast to rotate and I'd stayed in the wrong side of the boat too long wrestling with it. As we 'came about' we heeled over and the addition of my weight on the starboard side meant that we just kept going. This time the sail came down on my head and something hit me hard on the leg. It's all a bit of a blur now. Suffice to say, tired as we were, it took longer to right the boat this time; it took longer for me to get on board and, just as I did, Himself lost his grip and I was drifting away from him out to sea.

Now, the terror I felt when I found myself trapped under the sail, the terror I felt as I saw the boat drift away from me on my last outing, the terror I felt when I realised I was about to squeeze an object the size of a small watermelon out of my nether regions, these were as nothing compared to the terror I felt alone in a small dinghy, heading out to sea. It was like being a four year old trapped in a runaway car. I had NO IDEA how to sail that boat. Have I mentioned I am a control freak?

"Let the sails flap, LET THE SAILS FLAP," Himself screamed at me from the water.

"WHAT THE H*** DOES THAT MEAN???????" I screamed back. I had checked all the cleats and all the ropes appeared to be loose but I was still moving away from him!

"%$#@ the tiller!!!!" he bellowed.

Now, that first word was the problem. He wasn't swearing, it was just that I didn't have a clue what he was saying. It could have been 'push', or 'pull', it could have been 'parboil' the tiller for all I knew. All I did know was that I had to do something.

Of course, I did the wrong thing.

I pushed the tiller, the sails filled with wind...and I was off.....out to sea...on my own...

"NOT THAT WAAAAAYYYYYY..." I heard from Himself as his voice faded into the spray.....

No kidding.

I immediately let go of the tiller and the boat fell over....again. This time was really bad. I was caught under the sails. I swallowed a huge mouthful of seawater. The wind was coming up to about 15 knots now and the boat was rising up above my head and threatening to crash down on me in a mighty frightening way. If had thought the previous two times were bad, I was sadly mistaken. This was very nasty indeed.

I am not sure how I got myself to the front of the boat but it involved a lot of 'O God..O God's. I was vaguely aware of the rubber rescue boat roaring towards us, initially keeping its distance but quickly circling closer as they heard my panic. I didn't know where Himself was and I kept hysterically calling for him. Suddenly I was aware of the rescue guy holding his hand out to me.

"Hang onto me, you're going to be alright."

"No, no, I can't let go of the boat, I mustn't leave the boat, where's my husband???"

"Just give me your hand, you'll be alright."

"NO, I can't LEAVE THE BOAT! I CAN'T LEAVE MY HUSBAND."

"Listen to me, we won't leave without him, just give me your hand..."

And so it went on for about a minute until the guy actually shouted at me quite crossly,

"You HAVE to LISTEN to ME!"

He coaxed me to let go with one hand and I swung suspended in the water between the two boats for a few moments. It became quickly apparent that we couldn't stay like that for long without endangering the rescue boat (which was just a rubber ducky with an outboard) and so the process began again as he tried to convince me to let go of the boat. Eventually I calmed down enough to be hauled into the rubber ducky, reassured by the fact that I could now hear Himself's voice.

Himself meanwhile, had been swimming the 50 metres between us; swimming in rubber boots, clothes and a sodden PFD. He was exhausted. He couldn't reach the centreboard to right the boat. He begged for them to throw a rope over it and help pull it towards him but they couldn't hold the ducky steady in the rising seas. In desperation he made a leap for it, bodily, straight up out of the sea, caught on and clung there, waiting for the weight of his body to slowly, ever.... so...... slowly, right the boat. The highly polished and sharp edged centreboard (see right) bit into his upper arms but he hung on. By the time the boat came up, he barely had strength enough left to pull himself over that sodding bar at the back.

He lay there for sometime in a huddled heap and finally called out breathlessly,

"I need her to help me sail it back in!"

Well, at that point there was NO WAY I was getting back into that boat!

I have to shamefacedly admit that I left my brave hero of a husband to single handedly sail the dreaded beastie back to shore whilst I was ferried in, in the relative comfort of the rescue boat.

We were a long way out to sea. Half way back I had calmed down enough to start feeling sheepish and to be able to marvel at my husband's sailing ability as he used the mainsail only and gently guided the boat back to safety.

When we got back onto dry land and he was speaking to me again, we discovered that part of the problem was indeed the tiller which had come loose in its housing. So it wasn't just me.

So, will I go again?

Yes. It's like childbirth. The agony fades.
Anyway, I've got to be able to do better than that pathetic effort.....



Just found this picture of our new boat, being sailed by its previous owner.....(note bar at back!)


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'Goodbye Jester 'or 'I Refuse To Sail In A Boat Called Bongo Brain'

You know how it's sometimes hard to explain things to someone who wasn't there? Like to anyone who asks about the new boat Himself is crooning over?

"Himself bought a new boat?"
"yes..."
"What sort did he buy?"
"...errrrrr....the same kind as he sold...."

I know, I know.......why? What was the point? Well as always it is a complicated story.

Himself has been frustrated this year. Since October he has only sailed 3 races, 2 with Small Boy and the infamous Dec 19th race with me. Finding a crew has been a challenge. Small Boy has declared that he does not like being 'shouted' at and my efforts were evidently so horrendous that further offers to crew with him only hastened his decision to put the boat up for sale.

His plan was to buy a single handed boat. At our club there is a burgeoning fleet of Sabres, a simple, one design class with a single sail and healthy competition. The idea seemed to be the perfect solution. The going price for a Sabre was reputed to be around $6000 whereas Himself felt he could get significantly more for Jester. He would not have to scrape the bottom of the barrel (ie me) for crew and he would always get a good race on an even playing field. He was not completely sold on the idea of being a single sailor as he loves the teamwork of a two man boat and he had desperately wanted one of his sons to join him in his passion, as he had with his father before him, but he was simply not prepared to sit at home on perfectly good sailing days.

And so the decision was made, he was putting the boat up for sale! Of course, Himself was reacting viscerally in a kind of 'emotional blackmail' attempt to try and push one of his family members to commit to sailing; but this came back to bite him. Jester is a special boat. It is one of only three of its kind in a development class of boats (ie within set parameters the shape of the hull is not 'fixed') and was built by a friend from NSW who met his wife whilst on the project. When Himself put it up for sale, our friend was beside himself with excitement and before Himself could change his mind, the boat was sold. He was committed to travelling to Melbourne to deliver his baby to its former builder and he had yet to find another boat!

Still, the plan was good: a cheaper boat; no crew hassles; $3000 profit; a new mattress for our bed and paying off the Christmas credit card debt.

But it soon transpired that buying a Sabre was going to be harder than we had imagined. There were no South Australian boats for sale anywhere on the web and the boat builders were not answering their phone. Himself found a couple for sale in Melbourne and made appointments to check them out when he was over there. He was determined to bring a boat back with him.

He set out at 5.20am last Saturday morning and by nightfall Jester was in the hands of her new owner. The next phone call I received related the news that the Sabre Himself had seen in Victoria was 'old and crappy' and that new information revealed a reluctance on the part of Sabre sailors, to sell their boats outside of their own elite circle. Additionally, there was a 12- 18 month waiting list for new hulls! The single man boat idea was not looking good.

On Tuesday the phone call I received went like this:
Himself: I think I've found a boat!
Me: Great! Is it a Sabre?
Himself: Not exactly, it's actually another NS14.
Me: WHAT? How much is it?
Himself: Well he wants $7500 but I think I can talk him down....
Me: *sigh* There goes our profit margin. But why would you buy another NS????
Himself: Well, it's a newer one and it's a more common design and it's better in different kinds of wind and...
Me: (exasperated) but youo still don't have a crew...
Himself: Well, are you still up for sailing with me? If not, maybe Small Boy would consider it. It's a much simpler boat to sail...
Me: Well, I don't know....I thought the point was...
Himself: I know, I know but I'll make a concerted effort to find another crew and it's a really good boat and....
Me: Hmmmm. >:-(.........well where is this boat?
Himself: Well.........it's in Tasmania.
Me: TASMANIA????????
Himself: But he's going to put it on the ferry.
Actually there's a slight problem with that. The ferry costs are $1300.
Me: THIRTEEN HUNDRED DOLLARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Himself: (hurriedly) Calm down, calm down....I think I can talk him down.....

In the end the new boat cost us $7300 with ferry costs, another $500.00 in motel bills, petrol costs and who knows how much in changeover costs >:-(. Himself is still relying on us to crew with him and to add insult to injury, he wants to name it Bongo Brain!!!!

I will get my new mattress however. He has promised me this much.

3 Days 0 Hours 20 Minutes

56th position.
Oh yes!
Burning up the briny now!!!!!!!

2 Days 9 Hours 20 Minutes

90th position!
And he's about to go to another power move...it's 6.50am. I had to wake him up specially.....

Volvo Great Ocean Race: Leg Two

This second leg started on Saturday night around 9.30pm. We were at a party at the time but Himself had made sure to bring his laptop so that he could start on the gun! Seventeen minutes late (he couldn't establish an internet connection through his phone) he started off from Cape Town en route to Cochin in India via Mauritius. At least it generated some party chat.

He is now in 156th position in a field of 67 000 boats!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It's a pity he doesn't make money from this.

Obligatory Post For The Day zzzzzzz

I am not doing very well on the 'theme' front at the moment. I started a post last night in response to the US elections, but fell asleep before I finished it. Tonight I am having difficulty typing this as my eyes are closing on me and I'm nodding off over the keyboard :-(

BUT

I AM posting so I am still in the NaBloPoMo race!

Speaking of races, Himself has finished the Great Ocean Challenge (first leg)!! He finished in 91st position so he gets his boat name on the leader board on the website. He is well pleased and relieved as the last 48 hours were v high pressure in terms of tactics and watching the wind. All this and working too! He claims he could have finished even higher but he was in a meeting this afternoon when the crucial finishing moves were needed. ha ha :-D Still, he has done really well and I, for one, am proud of him.

Tomorrow we are taking The Baby Angel and her friend to see The Vines gig at a local music venue (pub!). Initially the kids wanted to go on their own!!!!! HA!!!!! As IF!!!!!! So they are going to be very embarrassed to be in the company of parents although we will of course keep a discreet distance. There has been frantic preparation. Hair cuts, new clothes and a custom made T shirt no less!!!!!

There's also been some Flaming Sword moments on the homework front but that will have to wait as I am dropppinn...............................................................................................................

TOP 100

Yes! This morning at 6.30am Himself 'cracked' 100th position!! Seven virtual boats have now 'arrived' in Capetown but as long as he keeps his speed and course he should pass more boats and finish in the top 100 (sometime soon I hope!). I do have to say this is the ONLY time I have seen my husband willingly get out of bed before 8am. I mean, he has done it to go on interstate trips etc but I have had to wake him and push him. This is extraordinary. As I get up for work, he, instead of moaning about what sort of time it is and how the sparrows haven't even farted etc, leaps to his feet, gets his dressing gown and disappears down the hall to the computer. Extraordinary.

108th Position....So Close and Yet So far....

As I Retire....

He has passed his previous best and is currently in 135th position! Unfortunately the leader is IN but he is still hopeful of making it into the top 100...fingers crossed.