Easter 2006

Date: April 14 - 17 2006
Boat: Blue Scherzo, Sadler 32

Trip:
Portsmouth; Lymington; Weymouth; Yarmouth; Portsmouth

Days: 4
Skipper: Gerry Raby
Crew: Sean Raby


Blue Scherzo closes on Lady J for a quick chat


Bank holiday Friday turned up with traditionally British bank holiday weather, damp, overcast and chilly as we departed Portsmouth and set sails for Lymington. It was apparent from the weather forecast that this was shaping up for a downwind weekend, the wind pushing us down from Lymington to Weymouth then on que turning around to push us back again. Certainly this was a change to bashing through against the wind with the spray in your face. Unfortunately however it seems that every silver lining must have a cloud, this one in the form of a steady rolling swell on the sea that when combined with the motion of the boat made for the most unpleasant conditions for anyone susceptible to the hideous malaise of sea sickness. On my first trip with Ashdown I had been Captain Chunder with a capital ‘C’ but oddly have never really suffered since despite seeing worse conditions on a number of occasions. There were times on this weekend however when the motion did start to take its toll on me. Although I am pleased to say that it never progressed past the initial discomfort stage. Some however were not so lucky and I have to admire the fortitude of those who suffer and yet continue to sail.

There were only three of us on BS for this weekend rather than the usual 4 so it would be interesting to see if I could cope with some things I normally don’t need to worry about. The first day suggested I still have a long way to go. At this time sailing upwind we needed to tack, Sean was resting below and I was on the helm. Now these days I don’t have the boat dancing round in circles every five minutes like I used to but I still need to concentrate quite hard and think about what I am doing which is not normally a problem – until you tack with two. It never occurred to me before to think about such a situation, suddenly I was confronted with having to ‘multi task’, helm, and tail the winch while Gerry hauled and winched. The big issue is not what to do but how to do it. I took the sheet with my left hand and the helm with my right, keeping the tension on the sheet as Gerry wound it in, my left arm steadily moving back while keeping the helm steady with my right. Fine, but that damn sheet just kept on coming and my left arm kept going back, until the cuff of my jacket tangled with the guard rail, dohh! I attempt to free my arm and distracted I start to wander off the wind so my attention returns to the helm, in the confusion of a couple of seconds the inevitable happens and I drop the sheet as I try to jerk my arm free. Gerry emits an amusing quote as the sail whips the sheet away and he has to haul it all in again. Well I figure the exercise did him good and no harm was done but on a serious note this is the sort of silly incident that can get someone hurt. Of course after the event I could think of several better ways to have done it, but it’s often not until you are actually doing something that it occurs to you that you don’t know how to do it!

We made Lymington without further incident and settled in for the night.

The following day we made off for Weymouth with a light following wind. Gerry decided to put the spinnaker up and we set a brisk pace racing off towards the Needles with the red and black sail looking splendid in the weak early sunshine. I don’t have much experience of sailing with a spinnaker so it would prove to be another day requiring some quick learning. I think the main thing I learnt on this weekend was that while it’s tricky to put a spinnaker up and helming takes a lot of concentration all this pales into insignificance compared to trying to get the damn thing down in a strong wind. Basically the light wind outside Lymington got us going nicely, but as time went on the wind kept creeping imperceptibly higher, 5 knots, 6, 7, 8, 10 and gusting significantly higher. On the helm it started to feel more like trying to control a raging bull than guide a benign pony. We are down to two crew as the motion has taken its toll on one. It’s grey and overcast. Half an hour later and the wind is higher still now often gusting between 15 and 20 knots. The boat was cracking along at top speed and Gerry could handle it quite nicely but I have to say when I was on the helm I was finding it quite scary how hard and viciously the boat would want to round up. As the boat pulls harder the novice starts to overcompensate and I have her cork screwing along. I am barely in control and there is a problem – one of the sheets keeps snagging on the rail and Gerry is trying to adjust it when quite suddenly the inevitable happens, I have overcompensated and have the rudder hard over but she is not turning back, I don’t know what to do!, I can feel the power of the wind dragging us along before the boat suddenly digs in and swings round. In the blink of an eye I am on my knees in the cockpit as we broach to a shuddering halt in a shower of water. I am glad we were both wearing lifejackets as either of us may have needed one. We both decide its better for Gerry to helm until the wind drops which it duly does half an hour or so later.

That evening in Weymouth as I return to the sink to contemplate the washing up I notice a gentle rippling of the water and a slight vibration. A few seconds later I hear the tinkling of glasses in the locker followed by a rattling as a glass begins to walk slowly across the saloon table, the vibration increasing steadily. Slightly alarmed I try to peer out from the cabin window just as a dark shadow looms over BS, plunging the saloon into semi darkness. My first thought was that perhaps the aircraft carrier USS Ronald Reagan was attempting to dock in Weymouth, surely not! Quickly I scramble up the companionway onto deck expecting a wall of grey steel, but nay, nay and thrice nay it is not the famed nuclear leviathan but a huge yacht. As I watch I can just make out the skipper, flanked by a brace of maidens either side of the helm and astonishingly what appears to be two crewmen stripped to the waist waving palm fronds to cool them like a decadent scene from Hollywood’s ancient Egypt. Ashdown boats bob and skip like little dolphins on the big yacht’s bow wave. As the great beast turns majestically I half expect to hear the whoops and blasts of ships horns in joyous salute and eagerly I grab two spoons and a washboard in order to play God Save the Queen as my own special contribution. But just a moment I think I recognise that floppy haired Egyptian slave, no, surely that’s David Groves! It’s Eliona, goodness either Graham must have been feeding her steroids over the winter or I had too much wine. I suspect the latter.

It’s my first visit to Weymouth and I rather like it. Just a shame that the distance and circumstances mean we get in late and leave early so don’t get much chance to explore.

The trip back is another spinnaker day but with much lighter winds and we make good time. Everything goes just fine until we move to take the inshore route into Portsmouth. Out in the Solent the wind was a consistent 5 knots but as we move closer to land the wind rises quickly and significantly to the point where even with Gerry on the Helm things are getting lively. I have the sheet in hand but around the winch and with ever increasing traffic around us Gerry tells me to let it flap. We start to take it down but unfortunately the snuffer comes apart and we end up in a bit of a mess of lines with the sail flapping wildly in the strong breeze. Once again I realize that I have no idea how deal with this situation. Fortunately Gerry does and after 20 minutes or so of hard effort we manage to recover everything intact and motor into Portsmouth. This situation shows how you not only need to think and know about how to do the obvious things but also need to have some idea of what to do when the unexpected happens.

All in all a most enjoyable weekend, I learned a great deal about how many things there are that I know nothing about. As always Gerry, Sean & BS were great hosts and Ashdown organised a most enjoyable weekend. (Apologies to Sean if I have used the wrong spelling)