My ex-"wife" and others would happily have us believe that sailing is a waste of time. They assert that it's a drain on time best spent with housework or lawn mowing. I even spoke to that hardware guy on the way to the water who said her couldn't sail anymore because of "the children" and lack of money. He was wag off the mark with regards the costs of dinghy sailing, but he kinda made me feel guilty too.
But, here I am after yesterday's brief sail feeling as happy as a lark. In fact I've been buzzing with good vibrations ever since. So what's the rub?
Google provides some explanation; that sailing engages us in gentle activity, calm natural surroundings and draws our concentration towards a single task. These characteristics regulate Serotonin in our nervous system. This in turn elevates our mood, improves appetite, aids digestion, sleep and memory and improves our sexual functioning. The last one didn't work with my ex-wife, but I sure do feel happy.
So take up your helm lads (and ladettes), disregard the naysayers, it's doing you a world of good.
Saturday, February 24, 2018
Friday, February 23, 2018
Cruise to Dowardee Island
I was taking a risk going sailing today: galeforce winds were forecast; I'd just completed major repairs t to the hull, and; I hadn't had a very good record with accidents lately. But I really feel snowed under by life lately and I really needed to push back, and go sailing.
To avoid the worst of the wind I decided on a sheltered launch site just to the SE of Lemon Tree Passage, Port Stephens (east coast of Australia about latitude S33°). To launch I needed to negotiate a sandy beach made wider by the low tide, but my Land Rover had no problems. Launching from a tilted trailer was smooth and stress free and most importantly, made no holes in the hull. I had not launched in this location nor using the tilt technique, but they proved t be a winning combination. I entered the water totally chilled for a change.
Bulls Island, sat just 100m. off the shore and made a shallow channel running in a NNW direction. It a natural harbour for moored craft and oyster farms, and with the wind light from The wind light from NNE I found myself tacking among large white launches, production yachts plus a converted navy craft. A handful of shanty-style houseboats lent a McBoaty feel. At the far end of the channel a sprawling blocked the airflow as well as concentrated the adverse tidal flow and we tacked backwards a few times before the wind gave us a hand. TILMAN was lo ging well; in the lulls she tried hard to hold her ground and as each little puff came through she seemed to accelerate and glide emphatically across the water. Abeam with the NW end of Bulls Island a vast waterway opens out; 7k. NS and 9k. EW, mostly accessible to the dinghy sailor. But just here the path to deeper water narrows and snakes to NNE across the breeze (now 8 knots NNE). Short tacking using my eyes as a depth sounder proved successful, well mostly with one touch with the cb. Try doing this in an expensive keel!
Exiting the channel I saw a keeler exiting the deeper channel east of Bulls Island. He was upwind (now NE) on the same tack, and our course were set to converge somewhere in the middle of the waterway. No other sails were about. I settled in, lounging square across the bilge, back to the wind, feet up on the downwind gunnel. Sailing pleasure has nothing to do with money.
Free of the concentrated tidal flow and fully exposed to a freshening wind, we both made great way. TILMAN showed the keel boat a clean pair of bilges, and once clear I sprang the sheets and smoked her. The wind now showed signs of the 30 knots that had been forecast, not more than halfway there mind, but more respectable from a meteorologist' s point of view. Rather than put the rig under strain, I let the main luff, but we still made the 3 kilometre reach to Dowardee Island in quick time.
Closing this uninhabited island O thought about going ashore, there were no mountains to scale Tilman style, (in fact it was very flat and mangrovey), but the oyster leases and rocky reefs provided enough discouragement. Over onto port tack with feet tangled on the mainsheet providing unnecessary excitement, and running off to close the SE end of Bulls Island. This course put us on a beam reach and we screamed along for 3 kilometres but for the first time today I needed to sit up on the seat and use my weight to hold her up. Tilman is currently a "no electronics zone" but I estimate her speed here at 6 knots, but would not be surprised if it touched 8 at times. Definitely, the Mirror' s bum-down running was more akin to a beach catamaran rather than keeler.
Navigating back into the channel by Bulls Island required a gybe of the main. If a dinghy is going to tip it will be when gybing, so I was cautious. I picked a moment with good boatspeed and a tiny lull in the wind and hauled the main onto the midline of the hull and eased her across, but the Mirror held course with the fearless stability.
So, what? Just 9 kilometres sailed overall, but for sheer pleasure this was a memorable sail. I'm thinking it was among my top three days of sailing ever. There were few comforts, no music or coffee, and I was alone, but the great pleasure of tacking among moored craft in light air, then blasting upwind in 10-15 knots of new wind and then running off on a fast and flat beam reach all made the sailing exhilarating and beautiful. There was just the boat, the sea and wind and no distractions: just pure sailing.
To avoid the worst of the wind I decided on a sheltered launch site just to the SE of Lemon Tree Passage, Port Stephens (east coast of Australia about latitude S33°). To launch I needed to negotiate a sandy beach made wider by the low tide, but my Land Rover had no problems. Launching from a tilted trailer was smooth and stress free and most importantly, made no holes in the hull. I had not launched in this location nor using the tilt technique, but they proved t be a winning combination. I entered the water totally chilled for a change.
Bulls Island, sat just 100m. off the shore and made a shallow channel running in a NNW direction. It a natural harbour for moored craft and oyster farms, and with the wind light from The wind light from NNE I found myself tacking among large white launches, production yachts plus a converted navy craft. A handful of shanty-style houseboats lent a McBoaty feel. At the far end of the channel a sprawling blocked the airflow as well as concentrated the adverse tidal flow and we tacked backwards a few times before the wind gave us a hand. TILMAN was lo ging well; in the lulls she tried hard to hold her ground and as each little puff came through she seemed to accelerate and glide emphatically across the water. Abeam with the NW end of Bulls Island a vast waterway opens out; 7k. NS and 9k. EW, mostly accessible to the dinghy sailor. But just here the path to deeper water narrows and snakes to NNE across the breeze (now 8 knots NNE). Short tacking using my eyes as a depth sounder proved successful, well mostly with one touch with the cb. Try doing this in an expensive keel!
Exiting the channel I saw a keeler exiting the deeper channel east of Bulls Island. He was upwind (now NE) on the same tack, and our course were set to converge somewhere in the middle of the waterway. No other sails were about. I settled in, lounging square across the bilge, back to the wind, feet up on the downwind gunnel. Sailing pleasure has nothing to do with money.
Free of the concentrated tidal flow and fully exposed to a freshening wind, we both made great way. TILMAN showed the keel boat a clean pair of bilges, and once clear I sprang the sheets and smoked her. The wind now showed signs of the 30 knots that had been forecast, not more than halfway there mind, but more respectable from a meteorologist' s point of view. Rather than put the rig under strain, I let the main luff, but we still made the 3 kilometre reach to Dowardee Island in quick time.
Closing this uninhabited island O thought about going ashore, there were no mountains to scale Tilman style, (in fact it was very flat and mangrovey), but the oyster leases and rocky reefs provided enough discouragement. Over onto port tack with feet tangled on the mainsheet providing unnecessary excitement, and running off to close the SE end of Bulls Island. This course put us on a beam reach and we screamed along for 3 kilometres but for the first time today I needed to sit up on the seat and use my weight to hold her up. Tilman is currently a "no electronics zone" but I estimate her speed here at 6 knots, but would not be surprised if it touched 8 at times. Definitely, the Mirror' s bum-down running was more akin to a beach catamaran rather than keeler.
Navigating back into the channel by Bulls Island required a gybe of the main. If a dinghy is going to tip it will be when gybing, so I was cautious. I picked a moment with good boatspeed and a tiny lull in the wind and hauled the main onto the midline of the hull and eased her across, but the Mirror held course with the fearless stability.
So, what? Just 9 kilometres sailed overall, but for sheer pleasure this was a memorable sail. I'm thinking it was among my top three days of sailing ever. There were few comforts, no music or coffee, and I was alone, but the great pleasure of tacking among moored craft in light air, then blasting upwind in 10-15 knots of new wind and then running off on a fast and flat beam reach all made the sailing exhilarating and beautiful. There was just the boat, the sea and wind and no distractions: just pure sailing.
Thursday, February 22, 2018
"Tilman" Repaired
Fortunately the weather has been remarkably hot and dry. A full inspection of the hull revealed three separate sites where the hull integrity of the hull had broken down. The pattern of the damage also pinpointed the cause; operator error. As the stern took to the water during launching it caused the dinghy to slew off centre, trip off to the side of the rear roller on the trailer, catching a steel bracket as it slid off.
A great technique for repairing the Mirror dinghy was posted on "People Love Sailing Mirror Dinghies" on FB. Basically, the hole is made square, the edges are bevelled to prevent the plug from being pushed through the hull, a plug with matching bevelled edges is fitted and a backing plate added inside. The Poster recommended screwing it together, but I have total confidence in epoxy to hold it all together.
So now I have her back in floaty condition. But first I need to redress the launching issue; how could I stop it happening again? I recalled some "modifications" that I made to the trailer, namely removing a hinged leg and extra-long safety chain. After scratching my head a while I figured that these fittings were necessary to allow the trailer to be disconnected from the car and tilted up during launching and retrieval. They have now been replaced and I plan to test it all out in the morning.
A great technique for repairing the Mirror dinghy was posted on "People Love Sailing Mirror Dinghies" on FB. Basically, the hole is made square, the edges are bevelled to prevent the plug from being pushed through the hull, a plug with matching bevelled edges is fitted and a backing plate added inside. The Poster recommended screwing it together, but I have total confidence in epoxy to hold it all together.
So now I have her back in floaty condition. But first I need to redress the launching issue; how could I stop it happening again? I recalled some "modifications" that I made to the trailer, namely removing a hinged leg and extra-long safety chain. After scratching my head a while I figured that these fittings were necessary to allow the trailer to be disconnected from the car and tilted up during launching and retrieval. They have now been replaced and I plan to test it all out in the morning.
"Tilman" Holed
While launching solo at a crowded triple boat ramp I was feeling flustered by the entire situation. I just wanted to get away from the hustle and tension and set sail. I rushed back from parking my land rover and trailer to find my Mirror dinghy TILMAN wallowing with 6" of water on the inside of the boat. I immediately assumed some fool in a power boat had upset her and jammed her under the wharf while flooding her with wash.
Otherwise she looked finest as quick as I could I bailed her out and set off the day was hot, but the stiff awareness was a tonic. I hardened the sheets and we chuffed off heading north avoiding the holiday traffic and racing yachts and dinghies (Her on Nationals), but rather than serenity I found that this watermaking thing was persisting. My mind screaming for peace, I discarded the issue as just the water draining from the (unplugged) buoyancy tanks and made a note to bung them up before sailing next time.
But despite my desperation for a,few hours sailing, I now realised the bilgewater level was indeed rising significantly and was making TILMAN sluggish through the water (now a 1 1/2' chop and 20 knots on the nose). I bailed as much as a dinghy sailor can under these conditions, but it was hopeless and I really needed to find a sheltered spot to heave to and bail out.
The site of an empty bilge was heartening, well. it would have been. As soon as I bailed, more water was flooding in and I suspected that when TILMAN rammed the wharf she may have split a seam. (In hindsight this was the first dawning of reality.) I needed to get back to the ramp and check her from below. but even then my mind was searching for simpler explanations, and I discovered the possibility that the automatic bailed may be leaking. I worked it one way then the other, but found no appreciable impact on the water level either way and in fact saw little chips of plywood mixed with the water. alarm bells should have gone off "I'm holed and sinking", but no, my state of denial was in firm control and I wrote it off as bits of detritus being flushed from the buoyancy tanks.
Fortunately aired in the tanks would not allow them to become flooded too much, and apart from being wet and sluggish I never felt like I was in immediate danger. I negotiated my way to the wharf and with head In the bow section I finally saw first hand, water flowing freely through a 1 1/2" hole.
Otherwise she looked finest as quick as I could I bailed her out and set off the day was hot, but the stiff awareness was a tonic. I hardened the sheets and we chuffed off heading north avoiding the holiday traffic and racing yachts and dinghies (Her on Nationals), but rather than serenity I found that this watermaking thing was persisting. My mind screaming for peace, I discarded the issue as just the water draining from the (unplugged) buoyancy tanks and made a note to bung them up before sailing next time.
But despite my desperation for a,few hours sailing, I now realised the bilgewater level was indeed rising significantly and was making TILMAN sluggish through the water (now a 1 1/2' chop and 20 knots on the nose). I bailed as much as a dinghy sailor can under these conditions, but it was hopeless and I really needed to find a sheltered spot to heave to and bail out.
The site of an empty bilge was heartening, well. it would have been. As soon as I bailed, more water was flooding in and I suspected that when TILMAN rammed the wharf she may have split a seam. (In hindsight this was the first dawning of reality.) I needed to get back to the ramp and check her from below. but even then my mind was searching for simpler explanations, and I discovered the possibility that the automatic bailed may be leaking. I worked it one way then the other, but found no appreciable impact on the water level either way and in fact saw little chips of plywood mixed with the water. alarm bells should have gone off "I'm holed and sinking", but no, my state of denial was in firm control and I wrote it off as bits of detritus being flushed from the buoyancy tanks.
Fortunately aired in the tanks would not allow them to become flooded too much, and apart from being wet and sluggish I never felt like I was in immediate danger. I negotiated my way to the wharf and with head In the bow section I finally saw first hand, water flowing freely through a 1 1/2" hole.
Saturday, February 3, 2018
Pahi Hapi Dream
Ok, call me weird...The beautiful Wharram catamaran above is a Pahi 26. Is lying in Washington, USA and could be anyone's for $A25 000. It was professionally built in 2005 and appears to have been well cared for.
So how about a "retirement plan"? Fly over and buy it, sail the Canadian west coast then head a) Dow the w ess st coast to Mexico and do the "milk run" across the Pacific, or b) tow it across USA and sail the incoastal waterway, transatlantic, UK, French canal system, Med then down the Suez, Indian Ocean/Asia to Australia.
Then there's the Import Duty, oh maybe just keep sailing.
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