Seal again

A nice calm morning, winds around 5 knots up till midday, and not too hot. I launched the Core Sound,  and met Anne and Kate down at AYC at 10. Andrew was down there with his Laser. He took some nice photos. This one was just as I arrived. You can see Ozzie's head looking over the gunnel, calculating whether it is too far to shore to jump ship.

The Core Sound made between 2.5 and 3 knots, despite the light airs.

We sailed over to Altona pier then out to the reef mark, talking, drinking tea and eating banana cake. It was very civilized.

Andrew was pleased with the light conditions as he can stretch and stand. I don't think Lasers were designed with comfort in mind.

I dropped Anne and Kate back, Oz had some shore leave while Andrew packed up for the day, then Oz and I  set off again. I wasn't expecting it, but the wind kicked up to 15 knots Southerly. I had a honking good beat across to Williamstown. A good opportunity to get in touch with my inner adrenaline

I must have been getting a bit tired, for as I was making a bee line straight for the yellow buoy, I suddenly saw a South cardinal mark which I was blithely about to pass to its North. A couple of quick tacks and I avoided whatever unpleasantness might lie beneath there, and I was soon passing by buoy T28 which had two, possibly three seals peacefully  sunning themselves.

It was a great broad reach back home, i think I  did it in about 40 minutes, holding near 6 knots most of the way. I started the engine, dropped the main, and sailed in under mizzen. I should have turned head to wind as the wind was much stronger than last time and I realised, rather too late, I had no way to slow the boat after I let the mizzen sheet fly. I got a line round a cleat and we came to a very abrupt halt. We didn't break anything or hit anyone, so, as the pilots say, any landing you walk away from is a good landing. But head to wind if possible  next time.

The kids came over for dinner, and Anne was going out so I cooked dinner and cleaned up afterwards. I went to bed tired but very happy - my idea of a grand day.

Sealy good fun

Despite a rather inauspicious, gloomy forecast, Tuesday turned out to be a splendid sailing day.

Daniel met Oz and I down at the boat ramp at 10, and we were sailing by 10.30.  The wind was a light South Westerly, so I started the engine as insurance, but raised the sails and we sailed majestically if very slowly round the dog leg out of the safe harbour, fortunately not meeting anyone coming in.

It was high tide, and we set off towards Kororoit Creek mouth.   I keep thinking it would be a good idea to try and pick my way into there.  As we got closer though, Daniel started talking about rocks in the channel.  I got cold feet and we headed along the coast instead towards Williamstown.

There is a large yellow "Transit Zone No Anchoring" buoy there which seems to be the residence of at least one seal.  He was home, and we sailed past at a respectful distance.  It always cheers me up to see him out there.  It is nice and boaty over there too, and the view as the bay round from Williamstown to Port Melbourne opens up is well worth the visit.

We turned round, and managed close hauled to just squeak by the cardinal marks off the coast there, then freed up for a nice broad reach back to Altona.  I got the staysail flying.   I think it will prove to be a good investment.  It is perfect for a long reach when the wind is under 10 knots.  It seems to add a bit of purposefulness to  our progress.   My new GPS ran out of batteries shortly after I switched it on so I am not sure precisely what difference the staysail makes yet. 

Surprisingly, there was no one around as we approached the safe harbour, so I dropped the main, armed Daniel with a paddle, fender and  boat hook, and sailed the boat back in, no engine going.  It really does make for a nice arrival.  The guy fishing off the end of the breakwater seemed impressed by our stately silent progress past him.  The wind was almost straight along the jetty, so I let the mizzen rotate completely forward as we came along side.  I was able to slow us down simply by running my hand on the jetty as we glided past, then dropped a line over the cleat and we came to a very gentle stop. One of my better landings.

It was one of the nicer sails I have had in the Core Sound.  I am coming to think that this is the sort of sailing I like best. 

Type 2 fun

Just back from my first and probably last regatta, the Mirror Nationals at Paynesville. Peregrina and I sailed between 50 and 60 nautical miles, top speed 8.1 knots, a reading from two different days, so I suspect it represents Peregrina's maximum hull speed down a wave with as much wind as we can cope with behind us.

The experience was what Al Humphreys would describe as "type 2 fun", where you are often cold, wet, frightened, sore and a bit miserable, but you hope at some point in the future the experience will take on a glow of satisfaction and achievement.

I had a port starboard collision with Daniel (not  my fault) and poor Peregrina copped a nasty gash along her front tank, which slowly filled with water, slowing me down progressively over the last two races to the point where I realized that more water was coming in than I could bail out, and I abandoned for that day.

Two of the sailing days were very windy. On the last day, a chap came over for a chat as I was rigging up. He pointed out his boat, a thirty foot trimaran, moored nearby. After considering the white capped grey water off the island for a minute he shook his head. "I wouldn't go out in that". I probably shouldn't have either, for I capsized not long after. I managed to self rescue but I  was cold for the rest of the racing. I hadn't managed to stop the leak either once again the boat got more sluggish as the racing proceeded, which is a very demoralising experience. I wasn't aware how much water had got into the front tank, and I did not drain it. When we came to try to lift the boat, Daniel had an additional 20 kilos of water to contend with and he dropped the front of the boat on the carpark tarmac resulting in some damage to the front and side gunnels.

So both Peregrina and I are a bit bashed and need some repair and recouperation. It was interesting being in a place right on the edge of a massive catastrophe but with everyone going on as normal. The air was thick with smoke most days and at night the smoke plume was illluminated by a crimson glow from the flames only a few kilometres away.  I am very glad we did not get trapped there or have to evacuate leaving boats or the caravan behind. The pic below is looking from near the jetty across to Raymond Island, a few hundred meters away.

I met some lovely people, learned a few things, and hopefully came away a better sailor than I was before. And I am now the Australian National  Mirror single handed sailing champion (thanks to a tiny field and the withdrawal of the guy who should have won) with a bit of huon pine to prove it. But I would not be in a hurry to repeat the experience.

To see ourselves

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.

Ramp rage

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!

Three very different days ... Monday

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.

Three very different days ... Sunday

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.