As others see us ... Penny sent through some photos, a couple from Paynesville and one from an Albert Park sailing day.
I suspect that we should both not sit in the rear of the boat, I bet that transom is creating a good bit of drag there. But that is the dangerous allure of the outboard engine - a little bit more throttle and you can easily overcome inefficient boat trim.
I like the little Ozzie head peering over the gunnel. The sails don't look so bad in this photo, but some of the others show a nasty set of stretch related creases running back to the tack. I lashed out and bought some new to me second hand sails for the upcoming Nationals in Paynesville. Daniel and I went out sailing this morning, and as far as I can tell he is now going faster. grrrrrr. I will have to improve my sail trimming.
7.00 Am on Sunday morning, and the cars and trailers are parked everywhere round the Altona Safe Harbour when Oz and I walk past on our morning inspection tour. The overflow carpark has overflowed, car trailer combos are all along the road, on the grass, everywhere. The ramp itself seems locked solid, with boats going out and boats coming in.
This is not a good omen for the Wooden Boat Association Werribee River excursion. I anticipate the ramp there will be equally busy, but I have said I will go and the boat is hooked up. We arrive there about 9.15 and surprisingly get launched and find a convenient park straight away. I rig the boat tied up to the pier jetty. Boats coming back in come speeding by every minute or so, and the wash sends my boat bouncing around. I discover later, after I hoist the sails, that I have inserted one slug upside down, which gives the sail a nasty crease, enough to make a sail maker weep. Particularly unfortunate as today the boat will be photographed by multiple other WBA people, leaving undeniable evidence of my nautical incompetence.
Laurence from the Port Phillip Bay Dinghy Cruising group, and a sailing friend from way back, joins me, and we set off out into the bay for a while, to let the others launch and get organized. There is not a lot of wind out there, but it is nice mooching along. Around 10.30 we head back into the river, past the launch ramp, which has not got any quieter.
The wind, West South Westerly, picks up a bit, and we have a splendid run down the river, catching up with Campbell and his young son Duncan near the island before the cliffs. We land, and the lad asks what is the name of the place. I tell him it is Duncan Island. He looks pleased. The rest of the fleet arrive, including Penny and Jim in their Drascome Lugger, looking impeccably ship shape as they furl sail and row in.
The poor old Core Sound is full of dust from Thursday, twigs from a close encounter with the bank, various clutter and ropes, and the sails never look particularly neat when dropped and tied onto the sprits. Hmmm, I might have to try a bit harder in the ship shape department.
Whatever, we have a nice picnic on Duncan Island.
The outing was an opportunity for some members of the recently formed face book group, Port Phillip Bay Dinghy Cruising, to meet one another for the first time.
After lunch we set off back up river. The two Mirrors tacked their way back, I motored very slowly along behind as crash boat and potential tow if required. When we got back to the ramp, there were scenes of utter mayhem. The wind had kicked up, and lots of people had decided at the same time that they wanted to go home. Every space on the short jetties was occupied. More boats were heading in, circling round like sharks watching for a queue to jump or a space to nab. After numerous circuits and getting bumped, we basically rammed the end of one jetty and Laurence managed to get a rope on. People were still launching boats, and queue jumping to locate their trailers in the bays that you need to be in to back straight down the ramps. But we got the boat on and out. This was a sharp learning experience for me - I never want to get into that situation again!
After the grey windy Sunday, the weather settled and the evening sky promised a good day for Monday. I wanted to go and check the beach to see if my gps might have washed up, and Steve had the day off, so I got down to the boat ramp relatively early, and launched the Core Sound. It was the nicest day for ages. Oz likes the Core Sound much more than my other boats.
We anchored off AYC, rigged and tidied up. Steve joined us and we sailed over to Point Cook, trying out the new Mizzen staysail on the way. We stopped near our landing spot of the day before, now inhabited by hundreds of feeding sanderlings or stints, had lunch and 10 minutes fruitless search for the gps, then set off for a great broad reach home. It was a grand day out.
Despite the relatively benign BOM forecast, the weather was squally and, from the white caps when we set out, it was around 15 knots. Much credit to Jamie and Steve and Sebastian, who set out bravely despite the chop and the wind and the grey squall line of cloud on the horizon in the general direction we wanted to go. We got out on starboard tack with wind from the South West, then tacked on port past the red stick. The wind strengthened and eased and strengthened again as we went. We could sit on one long tack across to the coast line towards Point Cook. We discovered, via the centreboard depth finders, that the depth shelves quite rapidly as you approach the coast, and also that the bottom is a particularly viscous sticky muddy sand. I was in front, and managed to stick the centreboard into the mud just as I was trying to tack, resulting in the boat pivoting rapidly and Oz and I going for an unplanned swim as the boat capsized. Jamie also got in some capsize practice under similar circumstances. We decided that where we were was actually where we were going, so we walked the boats into the beach and had lunch marvelling again at how nice this bit of coast is. It was a nice spot. The wind did not ease off over lunch, and the swell seemed to have built up. Hooting back on a broad reach I was disconcerted to see Jamie and his boat vanishing into the troughs between the waves. It was exciting. Even more exciting for Steve and Sebastian in the 125. Steve fell out of the boat when they were hit by a wave, Sebastian stalled the boat but capsized. So we all got some capsize practice today. It was a memorable adventure though.
Last Saturday was grey but the wind forecast suggested winds less than 15 knots easing as the afternoon progressed. After a series of Saturday race days blown out, I was keen to get the Sabre back in the water. The first of two races, i seriously fluffed the start, but had a good race with Penny who is also relatively new to Sabre sailing. I could draw ahead on the upwind leg,but she was much better down wind. I needed to give her rounding room at the bottom mark. I went wide, and gybed onto port tack, and started steering up to the finish line. She was still on the other gybe, and we collided, the bow of her boat hitting the rear port side of mine. I am still not sure who was in the wrong, but I did a 360 on the general principle that you should never collide with anybody, and she won the race.
The next race I started better, despite getting a good whack on the side of the head from the boom while waiting for the race to start. I was keeping much closer to the two other Sabre sailers, hooting down the top reaching leg, when a fierce squall blew through. I clocked 8.6 knots, but the nose of the boat was digging into the waves in front, and I had a vision of pitchpoling so I headed up and let the sail flap ... as did the rest of the fleet. I granny gybed round the mark, loosing some ground, and I was beating again into a lumpy sea, sheeting in hard, when the thwart, that the mainsheet connects to, ripped right out of the boat. I managed to turn towards home and run in, but it was close to a capsize for the first thirty seconds.
I took Oz out for a walk on Friday afternoon, and we got soaked in the rain. But walking home, I looked back and saw this. It was worth getting wet for.
I met a gang of sailers down at AYC, another Mirror and two 125s, with the rough plan that we would sail over to Point Cook for lunch.
We passed a dad and his two kids in a mirror powered by oars alone, out fishing past the Red Stick. I invited them to come down next nice Sunday with their sails and mast.
The wind was flukey on the way over, and Daniel lost faith that the wind would hold, so he turned back.
Federico and his partner in their fibreglass 125 were way the fastest, and they shot over there in no time, but very patiently waited on the beach while the rest of us made our way.
We had a very pleasant lunch on the beach. Every body was quite chuffed to actually go somewhere in their dinghy, compared to just sailing around the buoys. Federico and partner were asking whether there were beaches round the point, and I sensed they are keen to explore further.
The wind kicked up for a rollicking good run home. Oz slept most of the way.
My go pro decided to malfunction again ... not sure if it is on the way out. Perhaps its battery is fading. And I gouged a bit out of my hand when the wind caught the boat while launching with lots of distractions. But it was a grand day out.
Kate could only make Monday, and Steve was keen to get on the water with his new (to him) 125, so despite ominous forecast we got out early, to avoid the predicted high winds round midday.
Kate was on the helm, and she is very good to sail with - she has been sailing since she was a kid and has a natural skill with handling the boat. She had forgotten how small the Mirror is after sailing in the Core Sound. But we had a nice sail for about an hour, quite exhilarating with some good gusts coming through, and then a solid shower of rain.
The forecast spooked us a bit though, and every gust and cloud front made me think that the change had come early. We came in, in time to see the wind drop off almost completely. We could of stayed out for another hour, but then we really would have been caught as the rain came down in buckets then.
It was a nice outing, and perhaps even nicer to be back in the club house having a cup of tea watching the rain pelting down.
We arranged to rendevouz with some of the WBA boats at 9.30 off the Point King beacon. We were on the water by 8, relishing the step on convenience of a jetty mooring. The water was glassy calm, and wiser this time, I fired up the outboard and we puttered along smoothly at around 3 knots, covering the distance in less than one hour. Fantastic things outboards. When they work.
We bobbed round off Point King till we were beginning to wonder if we had misunderstood the plan, but eventually three boats appeared, including Penny and Jim in their Drascomb Lugger. We motored across Lake King, and tied up at the jetty on the West side of Shaving Point. By this time it was round 30 degrees, much more noticeable on land. Anne and I walked over the short hill into town, to buy batteries and wine for later, and had a lemon squash on the verandah of the pub.
When we got back the wind had filled in and we sailed off with the Drascomb, round Shaving Point and across Bacroft Bay.
By the time we headed back across Lake King the wind had kicked up a bit and with it a short chop. The Core sound handled it very surely. It was almost a dead run, and when ever I saw the main loose pressure I could steer us up so we didn't gybe. We parted company at Point King, then gull winged back into Eagle Bay. Speed was 5 to 6 knots most of the way, with a top of 7 somewhere in there, no doubt surfing down a wave.
The wind was up, and I didn't feel lucky, so we started the outboard and dropped sails. I tried essentially the same manoeuvre as the day before, coming in close to shore before making a sharp turn into the wind aiming to come to stop next to the jetty. This time though, I must have gone closer to shore, the rudder hit the bottom, flicked up and i lost steerage at the critical moment, and hit the jetty hard at an acute angle on the port front gunnel, taking out a gouge of hardwood.
The wind was blowing the boat onto the jetty and despite my best endeavours I could not work an arrangement of bollards that would hold it off. In retrospect I could have tied the nose to one of the poles nearby and the stern off the jetty, but there was a fair swell built up so that might not have worked either.
Willyweather was predicting that the wind would stay strong before increasing the next morning so I drove the car and trailer down to the ramp, cycled home, collected Anne and Oz, and we set off into the chop for an exciting retrieval on an exposed ramp. Oz enlivened the proceedings by standing whimpering at the bow of the boat, which was pitching up and down in the waves, as I wound the boat onto the trailer.
Next morning I cleaned and tidied the boat, and we laid low. Dinner at the Paynesville pub with the other WBA gang, then the long drive home through massive storm fronts, wind and rain on Sunday.
It was a great trip. I've patched the gunnel and revarnished it, and sent the outboard off to be serviced. I am very pleased with the Core Sound, and looking forward to more adventures.
Last weekend was the WBA weekend away down at Paynesville. As is the way with such things, the weather forecast was perfect midweek, deteriorating to apocalyptic over the weekend. I have been hankering to get the Core Sound down to the Lakes, so I decided to time shift and go down early - that flexibility is one of the blessings of retirement.
My original plan was to take a tent and camp, but Anne decided that she would like to come, and we managed to find a house, with a jetty at the bottom of the garden, in Eagle bay round the corner from Paynesville.
We drove down Tuesday, and there was a drive and beach next to the jetty, so I decided to rig the boat there, and try launching next morning. Which proved to be one of those dumb ideas. The trailer wheels sank into the soft sand before the boat was in enough water to float off. But after a lot of heaving and strong language I got it launched, tied up to the jetty, the trailer retrieved, and could saunter off and have breakfast with the nice feeling that the boat was all ready to go.
There was a glassy calm when we set off, and I sanctimoniously resisted Anne's sensible suggestion to start the outboard. I rowed, we ghosted, we bobbed round in circles, and three hourslater we finally got into McMillan strait, and tied up at the public jetty.
After lunch and with some supplies on board we set off out the south eastern end of the strait. The wind had picked up, and we tacked out, very inefficiently at first as I neglected to lower the centreboard after lunch, but once we got that sorted we had a lovely beat along the south side of Raymond Island, checked out the depth of the bottom of Point King, then settled in for a lovely reach back down to our jetty. I sailed in, pulling up head to wind next to jetty, without too much drama, a nice end to a lovely sailing day.
I bumped into my neighbour Peter yesterday afternoon, while I was taking Oz for a walk, and on the spur of the moment, invited him for a sail today. Which was probably a sound instinct, as if I had not done so, given the weather this morning and my general slowness in the morning, I doubt I would have gone out.
Peter brought along Saika, his son's friend, who comes from Tokyo. She had never been sailing before, but she loved it. It was great to see something which I do a lot through fresh eyes. She was very excited about the idea that there are wild animals living in the bay, and we decided to sail over to the large yellow buoy near the shipping channel, where I saw seals a few weeks ago. There were three, one large one sunning himself, and two in the water doing lazy turns and somersaults. Saika was impressed.
The day turned into a lovely sunny afternoon, wind around 10 knots so the boat was moving along nicely, and all in all I am extremely glad that we got out.
I attached my new mast float arrangement on the main. It is probably too heavy, and probably contributes to the chance of a capsize, but if we did capsize it would stop the boat turning turtle.
The forecast for yesterday that was available earlier in the week looked promising, warm, sunny and winds around 10 knots. After some back and forth on the Dinghy Cruising Australia facebook page, I said I would be going out, and invited anyone free to join me.
It felt like I had barely pressed the send button wwhen the forecast was revised up to 15 knots increasing.
I took the Mirror down, not withstanding. Jamie brought his down from Geelong. We rigged up in the shelter of the club house, then dragged the boats across the mud and soft and to the water. Jamie's boat tipped over twice getting it into the water, which might have been sufficient warning for wiser heads, but we set off, with a strong Northerly behind us. I gybed to get round the red stick, then looked back to see that Jamie was in strife. The wind had torn the cringle at the head of his sail out, his yard had jammed, and in the ensuing confusion another tear had split the belly of the main. I suspect the sail was well past its use by date, but he was now being blown off in the general direction of Port Arlington, 16 miles across the bay.
I tacked round, and came up on a broad reach to him, and managed to get a line across to him, and start towing him back to shore.
Amazing how much drag there is in an extra mirror hull. We made very slow progress on a tack back towards the safe harbor, and I tacked in towards shore earlier than I should have. On the new tack we were heading for shore but a long squelchy walk from where we left the trolleys, so I decided to tack again, at which point things went distinctly pear shaped. The line somehow got caught under the centreboard of Jamie's boat, my Mirror refused to tack again thanks to the pressure on one side of the transome.In the ensuing confusion we dropped the line. I had towed Jamie to a point where he was now drifting onto the reef, barely covered at low tide. I had a clear vision of both our boats reduced to matchwood. The moral here is, I think, don't be a smart arse until you are right out of trouble.
After a few minutes of frenzied tacking, we managed to reconnect the tow line, and sadder but wiser, made landfall in the sea grass beds a few hundred metres from the clubhouse. We walked, towing the boats the final distance.
Oz was unimpressed. We copped a fair bit of water in boat so he was all wet, but he knew better than to jump out.
On the positive side, I felt ok with the conditions and the maneuvers required to attach the tow - the bom said it was gusting round 20 knots. On the other side of the ledger, I think I should have pulled the pin. Things could easily have not turned out so well. It is always difficult making decisions that involve other people, but yesterday is a lesson to err on the side of caution.
My daughter Jess is doing the 4 Rivers bike trail in Korea in a couple of weeks. For a shakedown she and her partner wanted to try a longer bike ride, so we set off last Saturday to ride part of the rail trail from Yea to Mansfield, around 85 kilometres, and back again the next day.
It must be a decade since I last rode 170 kilometres on a weekend, and despite a couple of weeks of desultory training, I was mighty tired when we rolled into Mansfield on Saturday afternoon.
It was definitely a cycle to somewhere. My $75 Shogun Trailbreaker bike was by far the oldest and probably the cheapest bike we encountered, but it did a great job. There are two long hills, one up to Cheviot Tunnel and the other to Merton pass, that are a bit of a slog. We were glad to get over each of them.
The scenery is magnificent, and it is a nice time of year to ride the trail, with lots of green, and blossom, and baby lambs and lamas. Spring is also Magpie swooping season here, and as I have a black and white helmet, I seemed to get swooped the most. I work on the basis that life is more a matter of being scared rather than being hurt, so mostly I just ignored it, though a couple of unexpected swoops gave me a fright.
All in all, a great weekend, and I think, a week later, that I have just about recoved.
I got the Core Sound out on Wednesday for a few hours. I packed everything, but could not find Ozzie's life jacket. It was a relatively light airs day, so I figured we would be ok, as he has learned not to try to get off until I carry him off. But I lost a bit of time searching, and so I was a bit hurried setting up and launching. Still, I got on the water, and round to the Yacht Club to meet Kate at 10.30. And when we opened the door to put her trike away, there was Ozzie's life jacket, as well as my new life jacket, hat and sailing rain coat. I suspect I was a bit vague when I packed up after my last thwarted sailing attempt. (Last week I went down to take the Sabre out but the trailer wheel packed it in - so I spent that day replacing axle and wheel instead.)
The forecast was for very light winds, and I was worried we would be drifting around with the sails slatting going nowhere fast. Luckily, there was plenty of pressure, in the form of a steady south westerly, and we made good progress on a tack over towards Point Cook. There were quite a few gannets out there, dive bombing in spectacular fashion or just bobbing around in groups of three. Magnificent birds. It is one of the great bonuses of having a sailing boat that it is possible to get to see them up reasonably close and in action.
I've learned not to let good sailing days go by, even if they are one after the other. It could be a while till the next one rolls round.
It was a lovely morning this morning, and Paul was out in front of AYC fixing his Sabre when I walked past on Ozzie's morning walk. The water looked so inviting that when I got home I collected my sailing gear, and headed back down.
I got the Sabre out and on the water by 11. The rigging went smoothly - I think I have internalized the order of things.
It was around 10 knots South South Easterly. I tacked out past the Red Stick, then a broad reach along towards Altona Pier. We were flying along, top speed on that leg 5.8 knots.
It was a beat into the chop to get back round the Red Stick, with lots of water over the bow. I used the venturi, which to my surprise works incredibly efficiently. There was a reassuring sucking noise, like water going down a plug hole.
Ozzie does not seem to like the Sabre much. He lies down resignedly facing towards the rear, and spray comes over and wets his fur. But he perks up when we get back on land, lots of excited barking and splashing around through the shallows.
The Sabre is like a sports car in these sorts of conditions. The Core Sound would have been ploughing along in a stately fashion, maybe 4 knots, while the Sabre feels light and fast, almost like flying as you are closer to the water.
I am looking forward to the sailing season - I hope that we get some good sailing days.
There was a perfect (for me) wind forecast for Tuesday, winds around 10 knots, temperature around 20. I My friend Michael came along, and we set off for Williamstown. Off course, the wind died, so we did a bit of rowing (I can get the boat moving around 2.5 knots with a bit of breeze helping) and a bit of motoring when we got into the shipping channel.
We tied up at Ferguson Street Pier, and wandered up for lunch in the sun at one of the cafes near there.
It was a bit of a gymnastic feat getting Oz up onto the doc, and more so getting him back down, but we did it. The doc gives a good view of the top of Kirsty Ann's masts, the Dinghy Crusing pennant on the main mast, and the two crab pot float anti turtle devices on the mizzen.
Somehow, in the excitement of getting underway again, we must have knocked the line that holds the centreboard down off. Michael was on the helm, and I was getting quite sharp in my instructions to point up, as we were missing every point we tried to aim for. It wasn't till I took over the helm I realised the problem.
We passed a mini colony of seals on one of the channel marker buoys and got back around 4.
Driving down to launch the boat, I bumped into a neighbour and friend I have been trying to get out on the boat ever since I bought it. He looked longingly at it, and said "Tomorrow" - so I got organized and we went out again the next day.
The forecast was for around 10 knots again, and for the first hour or so, that was indeed the case. At one point I was nearly going to ship the oars. But the wind shifted south westerly and kicked up. At Laverton the nearest weather station to us, gusts of 21 knots were recorded, just about where I decided to turn around. It was an exciting run back, surfing along around 6 knots.
I remembered to take along a soft bed for Oz, and he is much happier crew when he can get comfortable and sleep. But there was some spray over the bow today when the wind kicked up, and he definitely does not like that. I quite like having someone steering so I can lounge up the front giving gratuitous advice.
When I tied up the boat at Williamstown yesterday, there was a chap on the wharf watching. He knew it was a Core Sound and was very complementary - "You've got it set up nicely" he said. I think he might be right.
Now the weather is getting warmer I can see making some longer more adventurous voyages.
My daughter Jess is aiming to do the 4 Rivers path in South Korea in a month or so, and I have been trying to keep up with her on some of her training rides. We are going to do the rail trail from Yea to Mansfield and back in a couple of weeks as a shake down tour. This means I seriously need to build my mileage capacity. I have ridden into town and back a couple of times (around 36 k round trip for me) and we have gone for some longer rides on the weekends. Here are our bikes, Jess's lovely Surly gravel bike, and my old Shogun Ninja, at the the top of the local hill.
It was a beautiful day today, but mighty cold first thing. I had wild vague plans that I would get up early and go sailing, but the alarm went off and I rolled over and went back to sleep for a couple more hours. But when I took Oz for a walk, it looked so nice out there that when we got back we hitched up the boat and headed back down.
Anne came along, which makes it much more of an occasion. We had a thermos and sandwiches while we burbled along about 3 knots, the best lunch venue imaginable. My new seat add in makes a good tea tray as well.
There was a bit of bad behaviour at the ramp coming in, one boat speeding to get in front of us, some guy with his boat half on and half off his trailer blocking two ramps, another guy taking an interminable time moving while he took photos of his kid with his mobile phone. But luckily we were totally relaxed, and let it all wash over us. I haven't taken the Core Sound out for a couple of months, so it was good to get it back in the water, and everything went pretty smoothly. Although I did forget to take a bed or mat for Oz, and he was not too happy, as he gets very sleepy and he wants somewhere comfortable to take a nap. I will put a mat on the check list.
Anne needed the car, so Oz and I walked down to the yacht club and extracted the Sabre from its rack, rigged up and went out for an hour.
It was a Northerly today, gusting up around 15 knots. This was Ozzie's first go in the Sabre, and there is plenty of room for him but he needs to swap sides when when we tack and get out of the way of the tiller. I noticed that he is a living Beaufort indicator - when the wind is round 10 knots he is stretches out, yawns, snoozes, and his ears are pricked up. When it gets around 15 knots, his ears go down, body hunches up, and he gives me lots of reproachful looks. I still think he would rather come along than get left behind at home.
The whole exercise went pretty well today. The new rudder blade seems to work well, and I managed to extract the boat from its rack, rig, launch, sail, derig and pack away all without any major dramas. I am sure I will get more efficient at the whole thing.
It was a rare day of mild wind and sunshine on Saturday, in the middle of what seems like a very long streak of grey cold windy weather. I have been itching to get back out on the water.
None of the usual suspects could get out, so Ozzie and I headed out by ourselves.
I have improved my rigging time with the spinnaker, and it took about 35 minutes this time.
We were on the water by 11, and sailed in one long tack over towards Sandringham, across the shipping channel. The winds were light, and on this leg we were making about 3 knots. I got to a point about 3 miles from Sandringham after 2 hours, but I realised that if I continued I would be packing up in the dark and the cold if I was lucky, or worse, still sailing. I should put a torch on the Mirror just in case that ever happens.
On the way back, as we approached the shipping lane, I could see way over near the mouth of the Yarra a freighter emerging. I thought we'd have plenty of time, as I was approaching at right angles at about 3.8 knots. Of course the wind died, and the freighter was barreling down towards us. I nearly broke out the oars for a bit of evasive action, but the wind kicked up again, and we made it across with a reasonable margin of comfort.
I broke out the spinnaker as the wind tended to a very broad reach/run, and we rolled home very pleasantly. I am enjoying the spinnaker much more than I expected, it is proving to be a good addition for cruising. My kind of sailing weather, and I am very glad I got out!
Anne booked in for a writers retreat near Avoca in NSW, so we agreed to drive up with the Teardrop, and Oz and I would knock about for a week then pick her up and drive to Katoomba in the Blue Mountains.
After a foggy night in Kangaroo Valley I headed down to the coast, and stayed at Husskinsons on Jervis Bay, Sussex Inlet and Kioloa. I particularly liked Sussex Inlet, a very watery place, which would be fantastic to explore with the Core Sound. Oz and I made do with the inflatable canoe.
Kioloa had more Kangaroos than Ozzie had ever seen in his life. They were very relaxed and eventually he got used to them. It was a nice spot, and we camped right on the edge of that National park close to the beach.
After I picked Anne up we drove to Leura. Luckily Anne had booked accommodation for it snowed two of the three mornings we were there.
We drove home via Bathurst and Lithgow, and all the high plains were covered in snow. We stopped at the Japanese Garden in Corowa, which was well worth the stop.
And we stayed the last night at Wagga Wagga, which probably wasn't worth the stop. It was super cold, -2 at least, probably colder near the river where we were camped. The camping ground got our award for the most cheerless spot we have camped ever.
All in all, it was a great trip. We have both come back energised. The car has developed an ominous sound from some of those brutal mountain passes, but we are philosophical as it is coming up to 300k.
At last we have a spell of settled, sunny days. It was cold early when I took Oz to Agility school, and the grass was wet with dew. So too were my boots and socks ater a while. But the day warmed up, and I pulled the Mirror on its beach trolley down to the yacht club, a good work out. I tell Anne people pay money to gyms to get a similar sort of exercise.
I have set up a flyaway pole and rigged the spinnaker so I can launch and drop it single handed. This took lots of googling, head scratching, assorted blocks and bits of bungey cord and line. Sunday forecast was for less than 10 knots, perfect for a first tryout of what for me is a relatively complicated and unknown system.
Daniel came along in his Mirror as well. We set a new record for time taken to rig up, but it was a beautiful sunny afternoon and very social as numerous people wanted to stop and chat about the boats, the dog, and life in general.
But we did get out eventually, and to my surprise, the spinnaker system worked quite well. In light airs, it seemed to add about .5 knot. And it is very colorful!
Here is Oz keeping a sharp lookout behind while I fiddle with the guy and sheet.
It was a lovely mild day today, definitely the best day we have had for weeks, and a perfect day to try the new boat.
Paul, who sails a Sabre down at AYC, very kindly came down to give me a hand rigging up for the first time. It was just as well, as my memory of how to rig was faulty, and I got a couple of lines muddled.
Out on the water, the wind was variable, shifting around from Northerly to West, with patches of dead calm, but also some nice pressure. A perfect day for a first sail.
The boat feels light and is more comfortable with its curved side decks than the Mirror. The Venturi bailer leaks a bit, about a cup full every 15 minutes. I will have to research that. And there are some things to get used to, like the noise the sail makes when tacking, as if it is turning itself inside out - I guess it is the battens flicking over from one curve to the opposite. And I do miss the Huntingford Helm Impeder. There were a couple of unintended 360's when I let go of the tiller to do something.
It took me about an hour to de-rig, wash, pack up and get the boat back on its rack, but it was very pleasant in the sun. A teenage girl with a friendly Alsatian walked past while I was packing up. "Cool boat" she said. I had to agree.
Yesterday I laminated some bits of ply for a new rudder blade.
Today I gave it an initial shaping. I collected the rigging and inspected a couple of professionally made rudder blades (which cost more than half what I paid for the whole boat). They are much finer than my attempt, especially the leading edge. I will try again tomorrow to see if I can get a thinner profile. I need to take at least 1 or 2 mm off the thickness to allow for paint and epoxy coats as well.
The good news is the centre board meets the measurement requirements so I don't need to replace that.
