Back and forth

About two weeks ago there was a hint of spring weather. A rising of the sap, a rush of blood to the head, I thought I had better get stuck into the garden which has been sadly neglected. I mowed the lawn, then without thinking, twisted, tried to pick the lawn mower up to put it away, and did my back in. I seem to do this every couple of years. Oh well. The back seems to get better one day, then it plays up again the next. It has slowed me down a bit. But in between I have managed a few outings.

 I did manage to get out with Andrew for the relaunching of his Red Jacket.

Always interesting trying to work out how to rig a boat.  You can see me, in this photo taken by Hahn, cheerfully getting ready to raise the jib with the spinnaker halyard.  But we eventually sorted out a reasonable set up.  Luckily it was a very light airs day.  We got a visit from a big pod of dolphins, a good omen for the relaunch.

One of my favourite youtube channels is "Simon Bloke in the Woods".   Part of his technique involves putting his camera on a tripod somewhere, walking into or out of  view, repeat ... lots of times.  It is artlessly obvious, but I find it tricks the brain into going along with the illusion.   The trouble with sailing is that the point of view is largely trapped on the boat.  There are options of course, but how nice would it be to be able to put a camera outside the boat, like on a tripod?

While I have been creaking around with my back, I finished off my prototype spar buoy camera float.  It is a length of conduit, with lead sinkers in the bottom, a float in the top third, and a  wood plug with a screw thread for the camera in the top.  The red buoy and bit of rope is to make a good target and something to hook onto with the boat hook.

I tested it first with the old Flip camera, to see that the buoyancy was adequate - I didn't want my expensive 360 camera sinking to the bottom if I could help it.

It floated ok, but the unstabilized footage from the Flip was distinctly sea sick making.  But it showed the spar buoy could support the weight of the camera ok, so I tried again with the 360. The footage looks promising.  

After a few more days, cabin fever was setting in and I persuaded myself my back was feeling better.  What looked like a window of opportunity for a sail came up on Tuesday.  The BOM was forecasting 10-12 knot North Westerlies.  I got caught up with another project Monday (putting in a photo essay on building the SCAMP for Practical Boat Owner as part of my campaign to get Ozzie in there as Sea Dog of the month) so I didn't have time to pack or get ready.  Tuesday morning I was more than usually stupid packing up.  I forgot my sea boots.  I forgot the spar buoy, the purpose of the whole exercise, though as it turned out it was probably too windy to have used it.

The weather man often underestimates North Westerlies, and this day was no exception.  I should have twigged as we blew out of the harbour at about 3 knots under bare poles.  Anyway we got sail up, then quickly put in the first reef, and headed over to Kororoit creek mouth.  It was just past low tide, and an off shore breeze, so I figured if I did run aground  on the sand bars, I would not be there long.  When we got there, there was a woman with two big dogs romping along. It is a bird sanctuary there, definitely not a place for off leash dogs.  Grrrrrrr.  In the interests of not getting my blood pressure up, I gybed around, and tested the ability of the SCAMP to steer with both rudder and centreboard up.  We scooted over the shallows leaving two furrows behind in the sand, and managed to sail broadly where we needed to go.  Clever little boat.

I ran down past the Jaw Bone, thinking of maybe a run along the coast to T21 to visit the seal, but I could feel the wind gusts getting stronger.  At last the voice of common sense got through, and I put in the second reef, and turned for the beat back to Altona.  Along the way, the wind really piped up.  I was thinking of the third reef there for a while, but we were going ok, and I tacked in so I was sailing reasonably close the shore, which gave some shelter.  

When we got to Altona harbour, the wind was really up, and straight down the channel leading in.  I thought the smart thing to do would be to get the Torqeedo fired up. I put the battery on, connected remote throttle, lowered sail, engaged forward ... and my outboard bracket promptly popped out of two of the three the connectors on the transom. I had the engine almost in the water, lots of chop, wind gusting up, and us drifting off for Mount Martha. Hmmmm.  I tried a few times to get the bracket to hold without success, but it was clear it was not fixable under the circumstances. There was no way I could row the SCAMP in with that wind. The only option left, I was going to have to sail in.   I raised sail and let it out and while the SCAMP drifted sideways.  I got the battery and throttle disconnected and the engine out of the water, put an oar in the oarlock, got fenders and lines ready, then tacked my way back.  

Luckily no one else was silly enough to be going out, so there were no stink boats to dodge.  There were some serious gusts coming through, but heading in to the wind, the boat speed is very controllable, and the SCAMP behaved totally reliably. We tacked up to almost touch the inner green buoy on the outer channel, which then gave a line so that we could squeak through past the rock walls on either side of the inner entrance, then a couple of tacks inside the harbour itself so we could come up to the jetty. At Laverton, wind gusts to 27 knots at 1.40, right when I was coming in. I chose the windiest time of the day for my manoeuvrer.

I had a cup of tea and some soup to get some energy for packing up.  I gave Oz some soup in a bowl on the jetty.  As he took the last lick of the bowl, a gust picked it up and it frizzbied off, landing right side up in the water.  Last I saw of it, it was heading off to Sorrento.  No way I was going to chase it. 

 

Someone very wise (I can't remember who ) observed something along the lines that: "The sea will find out what you did wrong" .  I knew that bracket was a bit dodgy, but as I was also using those connectors on the transom for my sail/mast carrying arrangement, I shied away from changing it over.  Well, now I will just have to.  I am grateful that it all worked out ok, I think I got off lightly this time.  

Rules

 One of the rules of my local branch of the Fairweather Sailing Club is to avoid sailing if at all possible when our local weather App, Willyweather, features blue arrows for its wind forecast.   The blue arrow signifies winds 15 knots, which means that gusts will be higher.  It is a good rule, except when every day seems to be all blue arrows.   A good rule.  But only if you follow Dylan Winter's Rule number 1 for Safe,Sane, Solvent  Sailing  "If sailing is possible, sail.  You will always enjoy it more than you thought you would".  Last Thursday was a blue arrowless day, about the only one for ages, so we launched Anjevi.

Forecast was for SW about 10 knots, we got winds gusting round 17 knots most of  the outing, which made for rather bumpy sailing. Oz was a bit cross as he could not snooze.  It was a chilly 11 degrees, and not surpisingly, we were the only boat out. Which was good for sailing out of and back into the harbor, as there were no stink boats to dodge. Dylan Winter is right, I did enjoy it more than I thought I would. I love that SCAMP.

A few days before, I was mulling over Dylan's rule number 8, "Do not own too many boats".  He points out rightly that boats inevitably need maintenance, and the time you spend fixing and maintaining them is time you could be on the water.  I kept reminding myself of this while being consumed with envy at Stephen's remarkable find of a Welsford Long Steps for an almost give away price.   Gerard, Chris and I went over to view the new addition to the fleet, and Gerard, excellent photographer that he is, took a great photo of Chris, me and Stephen inspecting the boat.  Very interesting to see a precursor to the SCAMP design.  Long Steps certainly has some nice features, but on balance, I think the SCAMP suits me better. 

Gerard's photo reminds me of those Pre-Raphaelite paintings, he captured the body language  splendidly, and the picture captures the moment and tells the story.  Stephen's granddaughter thought so too, and has started a terrific drawing based on the picture.  Looking forward to seeing that finished!  I hope to get a signed copy.

And, speaking of granddaughters, our little Harriet is coming along very nicely.  She is a bright little thing, and it is wonderful to watch how quickly she is growing and engaging with the world.

And, speaking of family matters, my brother Brian is heading off on a trip to Ireland shortly, which led me to do some more research on our great grandfather, Alfred Hutson, who was chief of Cork Fire Brigade through the burning of Cork by the British in 1920.  As an Englishman, those must have been very tricky times to navigate.  Thanks to the wonders of the internet, I stumbled over a story about him  that I did not know - https://www.echolive.ie/nostalgia/arid-40236050.html - and a photo of him I had not seen before.  The docos on the burning of Cork are well worth a look. https://youtu.be/4TFGn_KiVUU?si=tFK8v47HbMBYSVPG 

Great grandfather Hutson was by all accounts a remarkable man.  Lovely photo, but it does not compare to the one from our family album, showing the Captain demonstrating his highly developed management skills

Inbetween, I have managed to do my back in twisting awkwardly carrying the mower. That will teach me to try and tidy up the garden.   I am creaking around hoping the back resolves before we get some forecasts not covered in those darned blue arrows.   Otherwise, I will just have to keep doodling around. 

Stick to it

 Winter has definitely set in, and I am definitely slowing down.  Lots of  mornings, the temptation to have another coffee and dawdle round the house is too tempting.  Ozzie has almost given up on hassling me for the after breakfast walk.   But I have managed a few outings notwithstanding.  I got over to Stephen's workshop with Chris and Gerard to help with gluing up his birdsmouth mast.   Stephen is very organized, and it all went very smoothly.

Not that I did not know it before, but it reminded me that I am not a super organized person, and that I made a good call getting an aluminium mast.  

The weather systems have been whizzing through quickly after the long period of settled weather with the blocking high.  Perhaps catching up, making up for lost time. Tuesday was diabolical, Wednesday lovely, Thursday diabolical, Friday lovely.

I seized the opportunity on Wednesday and got Derry out for a row for an hour in the afternoon.  Anne bumped into us as we were wheeling the boat up the walkway to Flemmos beach. 

It is great to have a light super simple boat that you really can get on the water in under 10 minutes, and great to live close enough to the water to be able to do that.  But having more than one boat presents challenges for someone with such poor organizational skills.  Note the gum boots in this boat.  Due to a significant lack of brain power, they were still in this boat when I went to launch the SCAMP on Friday.  A nice cold wade in bare feet will hopefully teach me not to make this mistake again.

After my last SCAMP outing, I determined to come up with a better arrangement for the Torqeedo attachment.  I spent a bit of time trying to come up with a raising lowering arrangement, but saw a stainless adjustable bracket for $75 so I decided to try that out.  The bracket arrived Thursday afternoon, I got it bolted on to the removable bracket, and looked at Willyweather for next possible day to test it out. Much to my surprise, as the wind that evening was howling and rain falling, the forecast for Friday was excellent, so I decided to launch.  Luckily Chris could make it as well at short notice.

We got on the water by 10, despite the usual couple of blokes who used to sail who wanted to chat.  Ozzie put on his usual pantomime of stoic reluctance, but once we got going, with the sun warming him up in the cuddy, he was perfectly happy.

The wind eased right off after about half an hour.  Chris did a grand job rowing - sort of motor sailing - moving Ysolde along at round 2.5 knots.  On the basis that I needed to check the outboard bracket, I used the Torqeedo. 

We got over to the mouth of Skeleton Creek and anchored in about a metre of water for a very pleasant lunch.  It is a nice spot I rekon.

The bracket arrangement looks weird but it works well.  Prop is well out of the water when not in use, the prop is well below surface to avoid cavitation when the bracket is deployed down.  It is relatively easy to switch between up and down.  I can't see it when I am in the boat, and basically, who cares anyway I wonder?  I can take the battery off which reduces the weight on the various connection points.  I hope it holds up ok in more robust conditions.  So with luck another system in place that works. 

The wind picked up a bit and swung more southerly while we were having lunch.  It was a lovely sail back over relatively flat, clear water, in the sunshine, at about 2.5 knots.  Magic.  I sailed back into the harbor.  There was a guy checking his phone standing in the sunshine at the end of the middle jetty.  I was so quiet coming in, I sailed right behind him and he didn't notice. 

Retrieving the boat, I managed to get the trailer close enough to the jetty that I could retrieve without even getting my feet wet.  All in all a really nice day on the water.  

Crisp

The weather man was saying that there was a "blocking high" heading our way.  The wind prediction  promised  reasonable wind on Monday, then lighter for the rest of the week. I figured I could get somewhere Monday, and would be able to get home again eventually.

I packed way too much stuff, a car shuffle while Anne kept an eye on the boat at the harbour, then set off about 10.30.  Anne took some lovely photos of us setting off.

Wind was allegedly Southerly, so I figured once I got round the corner at Point Cook I would have a reasonable line for Werribee South.  The wind was predicted to be 10 knots plus till after midnight, so I wanted a sheltered spot for overnight.

As always, Point Cook looked close but took forever to get past.   I thought I was never going to get past Dumb Jo, and a number of tacks were required. 

Gerard said he was going to launch from Werribee, and there was loose talk off meeting up off Wyndham Harbour round 1400.  I rang Gerard at 1300 to say fat chance as I was barely round the point and the wind was fluky and on the nose.  He had fallen for the lure of the nice downwind run, and was off the Seaplane jetty near the RAAF base.  It was a hard slog but I caught up with him (ok, I admit, I used a bit of Torqeedo to bridge the gap) and we met up round 1400, with about 5 nautical miles to go back to Werribee.  

The wind picked up round here, and swung SW, so it was a beat into an increasingly lumpy sea.  I could just about get the line to clear Wyndham Harbour, but Gerard's Shimmy doesn't point so well, so we spent a fair time as he tacked his way along the coast.  It was good sailing though, the SCAMP loves those sort of conditions.

It was getting towards sunset when Gerard fired up his Torqeedo and we could make the run into Werribee River.  I tied up at the ramp, so Oz could have some shore leave and dinner, and so I could give Gerard a hand retrieving.   It was getting distinctly dark when I cast off and headed over to pick up one of the visitor moorings ... which led to some excitement.  In the gathering gloom I hooked the slimy rope attached to the shackle on the top of the buoy, hooked my bow line through it and cleated off to a cleat on the boat.  I was just about to light the stove for a nice cuppa, when a change in the sound of the water made me look up, and I was just running aground.   Luckily the mudbanks are soft there.  I got out oars, pushed off, rowed back to buoy, and cleated another line through the "loop" thinking I must have somehow mucked up  my first attempt .... but in short order I was drifting again - the "loopL must have frayed through. Third time lucky, I tied a line through the shackle, but I forgot to secure the bow line, which had consequences.  I was pretty tired and hungry by this point, and it took a while to get organized.  I had taken too much stuff which I didn't need, which got in the way of me getting the things I did need.   At any given moment, Oz managed to be sitting on top of or in front of  whichever hatch I needed to get access to.  But we got organized, got the tent up, got dinner and numerous cups of tea and settled down for the night.

Despite the chill - it was 1.5 Celsius overnight - and the wind (which stayed brisk till after midnight as forecast and required a couple of reluctant forays out of the nice warm sleeping bags to adjust flapping halyard and creaking boom) we slept well, till Oz woke me at 6 to let me know he had an urgent appointment with a bush onshore.  Amazing how motivating that is to get you going on a cold morning. I dropped tent and rolled up sleeping stuff in record time, started the torqeedo, and got about 50 metres before it stopped.  We rowed in, Oz and bush were united, and while he had breakfast I investigated the engine.  The bow line, that I had not secured properly in the dark and my tiredness the night before, had wrapped round the prop.  Luckily revs were low, and the Torqeedo cuts out at first sign of resistance, so it was easy to unwrap and the prop shear pin was ok.  

I was expecting almost zero wind, but there was a nice breeze so we headed off round 0700 down the channel, and soon we were running nicely along the coast at about 3 knots.   I got out the gas stove and Bialetti, and we had coffee and porridge ticking off the miles back to Point Cook.  Very pleasant.

The curse of Dumb Jo struck again though, and about a mile off the point the wind became variable, then died completely/  I stuffed round for an hour, trying to chase the breeze, but eventually abandoned the exercise, and fired up the Torqeedo for a glide across the mirror surface of the water of Altona Bay. 

I got set up with an extra puffer jacket, scarf, multiple layers, and we ticked along at a bit over two knots.  It was so peaceful, I suspect I drifted off a few times ... but we stayed more or less on course and there was no one else out there that morning to run into.   

Back to the ramp a bit after 12.  My phone was flat, so I left the boat tied up at the end of the jetty and Oz and I walked home, got the car, came back and retrieved.  A nice chap, Norm, came over to talk SCAMP.  He knew what it was, and he seriously wanted one.  I think Anjevi is a good advertisement.

 It was good little trip, about 28 nautical miles.  The cold was not really an issue, and it was OK with Oz.  As always, there are some lessons.  I need to get a better arrangement for the torqeedo.  I need to be a lot more selective on what I take.  I still got pretty tired, and I need to come up with some strategies that conserve energy.  But all in all it was excellent fun, I am looking forward to the next trip.

Ps ... just reading Charles Stocks "55 years in Shoalwaters". He has a delightful chapter entitled "Learning to Cruise" , and another "Learning the Thames Estuary",  which recount his early voyages. He finds a pipe cot frame, makes a bed, and works out how to efficiently stow his boom tent. He observes "Life began to get organised which is the secret of all small boat cruising." I can relate.

Solstice

 It was the Winter Solstice Festival at Seaworks in Williamstown last week. The WBA put a few boats on display, to add some boaty atmosphere to what is essentially a big open shed. 

The SCAMP was popular, various people tried it out for size, including Tony, who is getting one built, but the old advice for actors, "never appear with dogs or children" proved all too true. Ozzie stole the show. He had a way of locking gaze with passers by and smiling that was irresistible.

I had to put a ladder next to the boat so the long queue of children could get up to eye level to give him a pat.  It was a good night, almost like sailing only noisier.

We have been grandparenting and pottering otherwise. The weather has not been great for sailing, cold, windy and/or rainy. I should have launched Thursday, the only free reasonable day last week, but I thought I better do some trailer tinkering, adding a support under the centreboard case so the weight is not on the uphaul gear. It is a better arrangement but somehow managed to chew up the window of opportunity. Hey ho, some settled -if cold- weather coming up, I hope to take advantage of it.

Momentous

 

Anne and I are grandparents. Hurrah!  Welcome Harriet Ruby Hardy Mackenzie, born last Friday 14 June. She is of course the most beautiful baby ever. Congratulations Jess and Chris. Sea Pup the cradle boat I built a while back may have a crew at last.

In other good news, I heard today from my Camino compadre Jeppe.  He and his partner Maia and their son Eik are visiting from Denmark, and will stay here over Christmas. It is 9 years since I walked the Camino and met Jeppe, It is really nice we have stayed in touch. We have had a few adventures together since, memorably a wet cold trip down the Glenelg River, for which I managed to leave most of our food in the car. I think Jeppe might have forgiven me for that one.

Meanwhile on the boat front, evolution continues. I made an off centre mast sail spar carrying arrangement. It  makes raising and lowering the mast way easier and quicker. I also added an oarlock socket on the transom, so I can theoretically scull the boat with one oar over the stern. 

It was a nice calm day today, and very quiet on the water. Just as well, my attempts at sculling were pretty hopeless. The transom on the SCAMP is quite high, I am not sure the 9'2" oar is long enough. But maybe that is my poor technique.

There is a nifty dodad called a Scullmatix, which both let's you extend the length by adding a handle, and encourages the correct angle of attack on each stroke by having the handle offset.  The duckworks site describes a diy Scullmatix, I think I will try that for starters. 

https://www.duckworksmagazine.com/13/chest/jun/

It was lovely out there just pottering around trying out a few things. And I remembered to bring an extra fleece blanket for Ozzie, which he definitely appreciated. And I discovered that forward facing standing up rowing is workable in very light airs, good for negotiating the narrow bit of the harbour entrance and dodging stink boats.

Ticking away

 No doubt about it, it is definitely getting wintery.  But we have been enjoying some lovely not too windy days.  Chris in Yslode and I got out very slowly sailed over to Point Cook.  There were patches of reasonable pressure, and patches where there seemed to be no wind whatsoever.  It seemed to take forever to close the coast near the Point, where we had agreed to rendevouz.

Chris and I swapped video footage.  Here is my very short SCAMP centric take on the day:

And here is Chris's take on the day.  

Both capture something of a very pleasant if very slow day on the water.   

It is definitely getting cold out there.  I put Ozzie's blanket in and his coat on, but he still started shivering.  

I have acquired a heater attachment I can put on the Trangia or the gas burner, though I wouldn't want to try that underway.  But it does seem to belt out a bit of heat.  And you can make a cuppa as well.

I also cut a rectangle of marine carpet that Oz can lie on.  Testing it tonight, it did feel a lot more cozy to sit on than just painted ply bottom.

I have also added a fire extinguisher, and put a hook in the doubler into which the extinguisher bracket screws.  I can hang the oil lamp from that ... one more flamable thing. 

I will pack a couple more old blankets for Oz for next trip.

I am also working on an off centre mast/spar/sail stowage arrangement.  My current set up uses a holder that fits in the mast box and another on the pintles.  I am not super happy with this - it is awkward, the sail wants to slip off the cuddy roof, and the rear holder seems to be bending the rudder pintles each time I use it, which is probably a recipe for fatigue in a bit of kit I would prefer remained robust.   I have read of people with off centre arrangements who drop sail into the holder, drop the mast on top, lash it down, and that's it - no having to rig everything every time.  Worth exploring.

Speaking of exploring, I met Chris at the intersection of the bike paths to exchange USB's loaded with the footage from our sail.  It must have looked pretty dodgy if anyone had been watching, like something out of a spy film.  It was such a lovely day we continued on to explore the new bit of bike path out to Point Cook.  

I had Oz in his chariot, and we soon started finding forks in the road with "No Dogs" signs.  We avoided taking any fork so signed, and managed to find a nice picnic table down a dirt road at the back of the homestead.  

We were just packing up when a Parks guy came past, stopped, and told us that dogs were not allowed at this spot either.  The chap was a few weeks off retiring, and was happy to have a chat, on his working life and times.  It was a beautiful spot on a beautiful day, and there was a Swamp Harrier working the paddock behind.  

It was a good ride.  But by golly I was tired that night, my cycling capacity has well and truly been lost thanks to lack of use.  Better get out a bit more over winter.