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.