Sacrifice to Poseidon

 

Gerard in his Shimmy 12, and Oz and I in "Kirsty Ann" the trusty Core Sound, thought we'd squeeze in one more sail before the New Year. The forecast was for SW winds  to 15 knots kicking up to round 20 in the afternoon. The fishing and jet ski fraternities must have read the forecast, and Altona ramp was blessedly quiet.

Gerard suggested that we should sail over to the mouth of Kororoit Creek. It was a bit after low tide when we got there, and most of the sandbars were covered. I got there first, and anchored a few meters off the sandbar. Thanks to the flat bottom and kick up rudder of the Core Sound, this was no issue, the boat was riding head to wind obediently in the chop in a sufficient number of centimeters of water under its transome. The Shimmy with its longer deeper keel was more problematic. We anchored it further out, but still that keel hung rudder looked like it was pounding in the chop, so we made the fateful decision to remove the rudder so we could enjoy lunch on the sandbar. When it came time to leave there was no way we could devise to get that rudder back on. Blow up beach rollers probably work on a beach but we couldn't get one under the boat in the swell. Turning boat stern to wind just encouraged waves to break over transoms and get water into the boat. The transome was plunging up and down and while trying to get that bottom pin aligned, Gerard coped a whack on the side of the head and started bleeding. There was a distinct feeling of things going pear shaped. As with all good problem solving, if at first you don't succeed,  give up. I held the boat in deeper water, Gerard started his outboard and after one tense interlude where the engine cut out, motored back to the safe harbor without further incident.

I raised sail, retrieved anchor, and clawed off into deeper water with rudder and centre board both up, fantastic how the cat ketch can do that. The predicted increase in wind strength was coming through by this stage, and it was a rollicking good sail back, lots of hiking out and feathering of the mainsail required.

We retrieved boats easily and apart from a brief wrestle the the masts - the windage on the masts in stronger winds makes lowering them a bit tricky - got them ready for the road.

I realised later that in all the excitement at the creek mouth that I had dropped my Christmas present, a gopro Silver 7. I hope this sacrifice to Poseidon will ensure good safe sailing in the year to come.

So, some valuable lessons learned.

1. Make sure everything is tied on all the time: you just never know when things might change and you will be distracted

2. Don't assume other craft have the same capabilities as yours does. Sailing in company requires a greater awareness of how conditions might affect the other boats.

But it was a good adventure. 

Boxing day

 

Not much wind to start with. Andrew's son Oliver took this photo of us, with photobombing seagull, trying to get out over the sandbar with an almost non existent northerly.

One we got out near the reef, the wind switched round to southerly and filled in for a nice sail. I was testing my new gopro 7 that Santa brought. 4k generates wacking great files and my computer can't cope. You change one thing, then a host of other changes that you had imagined are suddenly required. De Quincy observed much the same thing in the 19th century. The moral is, be careful what you change, or perhaps  even better, don't change anything.

I am indebted, in many ways, but in this particular instance, to the inimitable Webb Chiles for this link: https://sailinganarchy.com/2020/12/24/92013/

I like the idea of sailing to a destination, turning round and coming back. Not quite "sailing to nowhere", as the article describes it, it is more purposeful sailing without the destination being the main driver.

Most photogenic ever

Sandra sent though some photos from the other day, with the caption "the most photogenic boat ever". Not sure about that, but perhaps most photogenic boat in Altona bay is about right. Kirsty Ann looks good with her new topsides, and interesting to see her with four blokes and a dog onboard. 

 

The good news is that the ply for my next boat, a Skerry, has turned up after months sitting in a container at the docks. The bad news is I drilled a hole in my thumb while repairing the Sabre mast. Anne has put a ban on power tool use till I can use that opposing thumb. Amazing how useless you feel when you can't use your thumb!

Got out with Daniel in the two Mirrors Saturday for a splendid sail, wonderful little boats!

Mayoral sailing

 

Sometimes you just never know what a day on the water holds in store. Yesterday I arranged to meet Chuck down at AYC to collect a rivet gun to repair the Sabre's mast. There was a council function on, and the plan was for the mayor and media chap to live stream their part of an online function while sailing. But the barbecue and various boats had blocked in access to the club dinghies, and as I sailed up in the Core Sound at the moment, Oz and I had some unexpected guests. Chuck came to make sure I did not hijack them. It was quite surreal, but our new mayor seems like a genuinely nice person, and Ozzie liked him.

After we dropped off the official party Oz and I helped Sandra and Federico rig up, Oz tried his luck getting some bacon from the function, and had some success I heard later, and we headed out again for the pier reef mark loop. Light airs, we got left behind quickly by the fast boats.

After lunch the wind was kicking up, and I put the first reef in main and mizzen. Wind around 20 knots, the core sound was handling the increasingly boisterous conditions fine, but I got soaked pretty quickly by the spray, and as I was just in shorts and shirt, I started to get cold, so I dropped main and we broad reached home under reefed mizzen at 4 to 5 knots. 

It was blowing hard and holding the boat to walk it along the jetty, and then taking the masts down, were both a bit challenging. But we didn't break anything and home tired but happy after an interesting day. 

I am going to have a push on decluttering the boat, there is too much stuff collected on there and it is less shipshape than it might be. Lovely boat though ...

I see from my log book that this was my 52nd sailing day for 2020. At least the average is one sail a week, not too bad given the lockdowns and various distractions.

Breaking bad

 A grand day for the AYC short course racing today, sunny blue skies and 15 to 20 knots on the water. Getting down early I discovered I had forgotten my watch, which does help with the starts, so I rigged and headed off home one tha dahon, but the rear tyre blew out half way home. A slower round trip than anticipated but we got home and back in plenty of time for the first race. 

I managed not to come last in any of the three morning races, and I was improving I think. I beat four other sabres in the last race, very satisfying.

I was getting ready to head out again for the next three races after lunch, and was tightening the down haul, when there was a mighty  bang, and the haliyard sheave at the top of the mast carried away. 

The mast is supposed to be watertight but the wood was sodden, and the aluminum had corroded badly. The consensus of knowledgeable chaps at the club was that a fix was possible. 

That was the end of my racing for the day, but it was a great day out.

I used the time to glue up my binocular/radio holding box for the Core Sound. It will look something like this:

Too easy

 Federico suggested getting out today. I spent hours trying to decide which boat to take -the downside of owning too many boats. Eventually I settled on the Sabre, which proved to be a good choice. As it lives down at the club house, I can ride down and get it in the water in a bit over thirty minutes, almost too easy.

Federico had his shiny Impulse, Andrew had his Laser, so they both vanished off into the distance pretty quickly. It was a lovely sailing morning though, and I was pleased just to be out. I spent the last 20 minutes before I came back in deliberately getting into irons and experimenting with methods of getting going again. Still not great at deliberately choosing a particular tack, but getting better. The big discovery of the morning was that I can sail the Sabre backwards, quite fast, for an indefinite period. And sort of steer in a given direction while reversing.  Might be a good party trick one day.

Rigs and ramp

 

We must have been an interesting sight from the shore:  a junk rig, a lanteen, a standing lug, a leg o' mutton cat ketch,  and a laser. A vertable history of small boat rigs. 

I got down to the local ramp round 8, and already it was packed. But it was actually quite pleasant in the overflow paddock. I took Oz for a walk, then took my time rerigging the boat. It took a while, after the long break and having taken everything off to paint. Gerard, then Jim and Penny arrived and we got onto the water by 10 without issue - though the carpark was full, all the boats were out trying to catch snapper. 

I sailed round to off AYC ramp help Frank rig his lanteen rigged dinghy. Andrew was launching his laser. The wind was very light and flukey. For a few minutes we had a flotilla, but very quickly the different speeds of the various craft became manifest, the laser shot ahead, the lanteen dinghy fell far behind. The three cruising dinghies more or less kept pace, and we sailed over to Altona pier, a sort of on water snakes and ladders game as different boats caught and lost the patches of breeze.

I anchored a few hundred metres off the pier, and we rafted up for lunch. The breeze arrived during lunch, and we had a great sail back, to do battle with the ramp traffic. I hope it quietens down soon. Jims theory is that many of the boats belong to unemployed tradies, who have become motorized hunter gatherers. Whatever, I don't think I can singlehanded launch and retrieve from the ramp while it is so busy. I think building the Skerry which I can launch off the beach is the right long term solution for me. And it will be great to have something quick to rig and de-rig. But the Core Sound is a lovely thing, so nice to sail. It feels like a much bigger boat.

Another goodday on the water though.

Werribbee River Return

 

The WBA had its annual trip up the Werribee River on Sunday. The weather forecast wasn't that flash, rain and afternoon thunderstorms. And after the bun fight last year, where the ramp was packed with aggro powerboaters, there were only five wba related craft this year: four kayaks and fearless Gerard in his Shimmy.

It is a lovely river, and the bird life is wonderful.  We got a bit wet in an early storm, but after that the weather cleared up, and we all dried out. The kayak certainly is easy to load launch and retrieve, I was heading back for home by 1.30. 

Sharkey

I spent a pleasant few hours rerigging the Pirogue on Wednesday. I  tried putting in a brailing line, but I suspect Optimist sails are not designed for brailing.

Thursday was warm and round 10 knots predicted,  so I wheeled the Pirogue down to the local beach and launched from there. It was lovely to launch off clean sand into clear water. My usual launching spot, in front of AYC club house, has become choked with seaweed, and the water is murky thanks to the grunge from a nearby drain outfall which has diverted to run parallel to the shore there.

The Pirogue sails nicely in flat water and under 10 knots, and we beat into a North Easterly out past Wise's Reef, and down to the mouth of Kororiot Creek. Another failed attempt to pick my way in there through the maze of sticks which are liberally scattered there. The water was crystal clear, and I spotted four banjo sharks basking on the yellow sand there. 

Their camoflague is no good for broad patches of sand, they are visible from about thity metres away. I was dodging rocks and sharks, with the rudder up, when the Pirogue decided it was time to get out of there, and gybed round by itself.

Somehow I busted the lower rudder pintle again, so back to the drawing board on that one. And the rigging still needs some tweaking, but with a bit more work I think the Pirogue will be a great light airs shallow water explorer.

Icebreaker

 

With the Covid lockdown and Anne's knee, and my painfully slow progress on the Core Sound, it has been a good while between sails. But I got Peregrina out today. I certainly have got rusty. I dropped the boat and beach trolley off the trailer, forgetting the small matter of wheels. Crunch Ouch. Blessed if I could find the fancy new ratchet block I got for the mainsheet.  And somehow the outhaul untied itself. Etc. Progess was a bit erratic, but once we got going it was lovely. Ozzie was thrilled to be back, as you can see from the photo.

Scrape, sand, patch, paint

 Displaying a rare outbreak of common sense, I talked myself out of starting a new boat, to add to my maintenance deprived fleet, and tackled insted the long overdue job of the Core Sound's topsides. 

The two pack varnish had started to give way in quite a few places, and the ply underneath had become discolored, so no spot fix was possible. The two pack had a sort of film that once disturbed, wanted to peel off in untidy strips.

The fittings had not been well sealed either, and many had signs of water getting in and under the surface, plus a gap between the gunnel rail and the topside had proved a good spot for moisture to sneak in. Definitely time for some remedial action.

I knew it was going to be a big job, and kept postponing, but eventually the silent reproach of the boat everytime I walked past it was too much for me and I began. It took two solid half days to get the fittings off, partly because a number of them required two pairs of hands, one to hold a nut with a spanner from underneath , one to turn the screw driver above, and I was too stubborn to ask for help. When I finally cracked and got Anne's assistance, it went much faster. I carefully photographed, then put pairs of fittings in labled ziplock bags. With luck I should be able to get most of them back more or less in the right place.

I read on the Internet, that source of great wisdom, that heatgun and scraper was the way to get two pack varnish off. "Easy" I remember one forum poster saying. Of couse, it isnt easy. After about 37 seconds I was regretting that I had not just given it a light sand and hoped for the best. It took two days hard work to get back to wood. Another day prime with Prekote. Another day sand and patch the more visible dings and chunks. And today, at last, we began the journey back.  I have a terrible time deciding colours, but so far, I quite like the look of the one I have chosen, Norglass "Sea Mist". It looks nautical in a business like fashion, sort of work boat meets battle ship.

Another coat tomorrow, then sikaflex the gap round the gunnel,  a revarnish on the gunnel and coaming, sikafex all the fittings as I put them back. We have definitely turned a corner.

Lost

 One of iso projects was going to be fitting a bracket to the Core Sound so I wouldn't loose my hand bearing compass. Of course when I got round to that job, I couldn't find the damned thing. Loss of compass, a sort of metaphor for my sense of direction in this interminable lockdown. 

I have been getting very little done. I did finish my Mark 2 cockpit tent, with luck it will be dry and warm and relatively easy to use on the water. It was a good project and I learned a lot.

I have also been doing some research and thinking about getting the Core Sound to self steer. John Letcher's book suggests making a model book to help understand the forces and concepts he covers in his discussion, and it did help. I am keen to get out there and try out some of his suggested approaches.

In this clip you can see that the Core Sound will self steer by itself on a reach for a bit, but it works slowly to windward.  Armed with Mr Letcher's book I hope to improve on that.

We are waiting to see to what extent restrictions will be eased tomorrow. If I can't go sailing for another month, that will be challenging.

Slow day

The general vibe in Melbourne has been fairly sombre this week. I have been keen to get out on the water, for some restorative PPB time, waiting for a day with some sun and some reasonable wind.  I guess one out of two is not too bad, a sunny day with mostly vanishingly light winds.  It was good just to get out there, no going very far (about 7NM for the day) or fast (average speed 1.7 knots).  A thermos of tea, a book to aid escape, and Oz for company. 

There were lots of gannets gliding, searching, diving, or just bobbing on the water.   I find them hard birds to photograph.

I wasn't the only one escaping.  I heard this guy before I saw him, the music on his boat cranked right up so he could hear it over the noise of his engine.

You have to admire the style -  bare chest, shorts and Alaskan furry hat.  You wouldn't want to get cold ears.

It was surprisingly quiet today down at Altona ramp, so I took advantage of the lack of traffic and the light wind to try out my new Padook, essentially a greenland paddle blade at one end, and a boat hook on the other.  I think I can add about .8 of a knot of boat speed if I really put some energy into the stroke.   As I was Padooking/sailing into the safe harbour, a nice older gentleman in a fishing boat coming out was very concerned for me, and wanted to tow me in.  And when I was pulling the boat up to the trailer, I flipped my key piece of boat infrastructure - my waterproof cushion - over the side, causing me to make a right hash of my approach to the trailer. A nice chap came and held the stern line for me.  And the little girl you can see running down the rock wall to the left of the picture above was totally taken with Ozzie and wanted to know all about him and the boat.  So I came back home feeling a lot more cheerful and well disposed to the world in general.

Sew, stitch, unstitch

Jess wanted to make some masks for us all, and the novelty of hand stitching wore off fairly quickly. I dusted off my mum's trusty Singer sewing machine, 1924 model from the registration plate, so she probably bought it second hand. After a quick lesson,Jess was away. She has been turning out very professional masks for us all. My mother, Eileen, would be very pleased. The machine still sews beautifully.

My grandmother's sideboard continues to yeild up treasures. Anne discovered a white muslin cover, for puttingover food to keep flies away I suspect, picked out with some cute embroidery. I suspect a teenager, perhaps my mum again, did this. 

I have been leathering the sprit booms from the Core Sound. Where they hit the mast was getting a right bashing, so it will be good to protect them. It has been a strangely soothing task, and I am quite pleased with the result. Anne says I am working through the experience  of the stitches in my face, and there could be some truth in that.  I had eight stitches removed on Monday, eight more to come out next week. 

Fog and fame

Anne and I and Ozzie got the Core Sound out yesterday.  It was as cold as charity and foggy to boot, but we had a nice ghost/row/drift/motor.   And the sun eventually came out, but not enough wind to move the boat.  We are drifting backwards from the yellow mark that is just to the left of the mast.

But it was worth getting out.  Do what you can while you are still capable/permitted. Here is some video from the day.

When we got home, the latest edition of the Dinghy Cruising Association magazine was in the letter box, complete with an article by me.  I am almost famous.  Well, I am more famous than I was before.  Which is not very famous at all. But it was nice to see the article in print, Keith the editor did a nice job with it.

It was nice to have some positive experiences.  On the not so positive side, I had to have a chunk taken out of my face this week, to remove a SCC, the legacy I guess of many sunny days on the water without sunscreen.   

Two rivers

Last Sunday was the Wooden Boat Association  cruise up yje Yarra from Williamstown and the up the Maribrynong. Gerard came as crew and Ozzie as chief sea dog. I didnt sleep that well the night before,  and my iq seemed to have been majorly impaired. I can usually back a trailer without issue but made a complete hash of it, perhaps because I had an audience. Hahn, a WBA meber, was there to capture the ignominy.

But we got launched ok,  and enjoyed a nice cruise for a few hours, lunch, and back. It was a good day.

Thin water

Jamie is back from the UK and out of quarantine, and the weather was good, so we agreed to meet at Avalon Ramp, which is about half way between us.  Gerard came along too, after mistakenly going to Altona Ramp.  Jamie couldn't find his mainsheet so he was late too, so it was about 11 when we all got rigged and on the water.  

It is super shallow and rocky along that bit of coast.  The wind was up round 15 knots to start off, so we had a spirited sail.  We were aiming to get into Limeburners Lagoon for lunch.  We cut the corner too closely though, and I indicated to Jamie that we needed to tack out and back.  He misunderstood, and headed off back the way we had come.  He was a few boat lengths in front of me, and it took me ages to get close enough to get him to turn round and have another try.  But we sorted it out, and we had a great run up the narrow, twisty channel into the lagoon.

It was super low tide, so we wedged the boats in the reeds, and squelched through the mud to the beach for a rather chilly lunch.  

As we were finishing lunch, the tide was coming back in, and Peregrina decided to head off on her own, necessitating a mad dash down to head her off before she escaped.  Moral, anchor if you beach at low tide.  How often do I need to learn that lesson before it sticks, I wonder.

Getting back down the channel into the head wind was fun, I quite like that sort of challenge.  Once we were out in clear water, the wind almost died away, so we had a slow but pleasant ghost back to the ramp in the afternoon sunshine.

A chap came over for a chat, who has a GP 14 which he sails from there.  He was extolling the virtues of Corio Bay as a cruising ground for a dinghy, and I can see there are some good possible destinations.  It was really nice to sail somewhere different, and all in all, a great day sail.

Winter solstice sail

Today was the coldest day for weeks, according to the news tonight, and it felt like it out on the Bay.  It was also the shortest day.

I launched the Core Sound by 10, and set off towards Williamstown with Sandra on the helm. There was not much wind, and very little sun.  Quite a few very purposeful formations of gannets flew over us, glad I was not a fish.

Poor Ozzie got cold, so he got wrapped up in a blanket.

It was a very peaceful and enjoyable sail. I quite like light air days. We averaged around 2.6 knots.

I was fairly efficient derigging and packing up, but coming home, there was a party on next door, cars everywhere, and I clipped a car with the boat trailer as I was turning. I was hurrying as I didn't want to block the road, and I  forgot that the trailer does not exactly follow the car in turns. Is this a patch of ice, or a winter I wonder? I guess stuff happens, but is it a sign I am getting less quick. Is it a pattern, the bike accident and now this? Hmmmm, better be extra careful for a while.

Sail day

Jim from the WBA came over again Friday, this time for a sail on the Core Sound.  Gerard got his Shimmy 12 on the water, and put on an impressive sailing display getting out of the harbour despite the wind blowing almost directly on the nose out of the narrow channel.  He did have a spot of bother though, getting his oarlock,which he was using as a fender cleat, caught under the dock and breaking off part of the coaming.  (Yesterday I helped him fix it so my guilt about leaving him and heading off is now assuaged, and hopefully his oarlock sockets are as good as new.)

While we were waiting for him, Jim steered while I rowed the Core Sound out towards Altona Reef, where we could see a seal slowly working his way round the reef.  When we saw Gerard starting we headed back in, and the wind picked up enough for us to sail, more or less retracing our steps from the kayak expedition the day before.

Gerard took some great photos of the Core Sound in action.

We got buzzed by the seaplane again, sailed through a mass seabird event, and got to see a seal demonstrating how they get up onto the channel marker.   There was a huge bull seal tilting the buoy over to one side.  A smaller seal leapt out of the water, successfully landed on the buoy, but got chased off.  Seal went to the other side, tilting way high out of the water, and tried unsuccessfully to leap up on that side. But we got a good idea of the technique.   It is a great sail over to the marker and back, and the wind kicked up so we hooted back round 5 knots, getting up to 6.8 knots.

Just about all sailing days are good, but some are magic. This was one of the magic days.

Paddle day

Jim from the WBA came over last week with his kayak.  It was a good kayaking day, sunny with not much wind.  We rowed over to the mouth of Kororoit Creek. but it was too shallow to get in.

We headed on via the Jawbone and along the coast, to T28 channel marker, but no seals home unfortunately.   On the way back we saw a raft of about 10 penguins.  I was too slow getting my camera, by the time I had it out, all but one had dived below the surface.

We were entertained by the seaplane doing circuits and bumps, clearly taking advantage of the calm conditions to get in some landing and take off practice.  He managed not to run us over.

It was a really nice day on the water and good exercise too.

A grand day out

Anne and I launched the Core Sound round 10 from Altona ramp.  The forecast was for light northerlies, but it seemed to be gusting up a bit, 12 to 14 knots over at Fawkner beacon this morning.  But it helped us scoot along, and we got round to Williamstown with two tacks.  There were two boats tied up at the loading berth at Ferguson Pier, but we tied up on the main bit, next to a ladder.  It was beautiful there in the sun, having a cup of tea.  Why can't I remember to wipe the gopro lens though?

We got some admiring comments and envious glances from the jetty above, and a little girl was very concerned as to how Ozzie was going to get up onto the jetty. Vincent called while we were sitting there, and he came down to join us for lunch. We got fish and chips, good at the time, perhaps not so good subsequently.  But something about sailing in and having lunch made it all special.

I did feel a bit like Steve Earley who does the wonderful Log of the Spartina, which involves lots of small boat voyaging to visit locations where there is lots of eating at salty establishments.

After lunch we motored off, as it was dead calm and sheltered in Hobsons Bay.  Heading out past the very end of Williamstown, we saw two dolphins, also heading out. The wind had switched round to a South Westerly, so we had a nice reach home once we passed the last cardinal mark. I said to Anne that we should be back round 3, and sure enough, we were nosing our way into the safe harbour bang on 3.00.  

It was a grand day out on the water, one of the best. 

Winter piroguing

I wheeled my Bolger Pirogue down to AYC ramp today. Light airs forecast. I missed the bit about rain. At least, as well as getting wet, there was a magnificent double rainbow.

Andrew was a maybe, but must have decided it was too cold. He may have been right, it was a chilling experience. Sandra, the renegade, got her Sabre out. She took some splendid photos of the Pirogue in action.

It is an interesting little boat, but not all that comfortable in the cold, as it is difficult to move round much. I broke one of the gudgeons, and was lucky to get back with limited rudder. It was a good day on the water.

I came across a quote from Mark Twain tonight: "the only real, independent,  genuine  gentlemen  in the world go quietly up and down the Mississippi River,  asking no homage of anyone, seeking no popularity,  no notoriety,  &give not a damn ..." I admire their style, and his.

Tacking practice

Gerard was launching at Werribee South, and despite the grim forecast, I got down there too. I wimped out on Tuesday, which turned out to be less windy than forecast. Wednesday turned out to be more windy than forecast, which goes to show you never can tell.

Wind was almost due South, so we ran straight down the river, and had lunch on the island.

My gps showed 127 tacks back up the River. It was a good workout. The wind was sometimes non existent, blocked by the cliffs, sometimes blasting down at 20 knots. No time to relax. I have been a bit sore and sorry since, I am out of practice.

I cobbled together some of Gerard's footage with the odd bits I took. I always wish I had taken more, and I wish I would remember to a) check that I am actually taking video when I think I am (not time elapse which is cumbersome to manage) and b) wipe the camera lens before each shot!