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pipe dream

Member Since 26 Jul 2009
Offline Last Active Yesterday, 08:16 PM
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Posts I've Made

In Topic: Perry Sliver Class Day Sailor

Yesterday, 08:51 AM


 .303 would be more sporting and still fun.

 
Sporting? Why bother with being sporting? As my Dad would say, if you're going to do a job, do it properly. 
 
78141.jpg

I wonder if some sort of small heat seeking missile might cause more terror in the immediate moment before impact.

In Topic: Zarpe Diem

Yesterday, 07:12 AM

Good to hear BJ.

In Topic: Reid Stowe - Schooner Anne looking good for charter

13 April 2014 - 10:56 PM

If he can't tape a boot stripe any better than that, I wouldn't set foot onboard, let alone leave the dock to play pirates.


It's probably level but the bumps and lumps in the ferro hull may make it look screwed up.

In Topic: Perry Sliver Class Day Sailor

12 April 2014 - 11:44 PM

Congrats on the new grandson Bob (and Frankie of course!)

I'm just here relaxing after my number two child was born three hours ago getting my sailing fix for this morning.

In Topic: "Adventures" in yacht ownership and fucking up.

08 April 2014 - 03:24 AM

I like this. Anonymous reporting of near disasters. Like flyers do.

 

My worst fuckup was at the end of a long day from Alderney to Cowes, which was made longer by being asked to help in a search and rescue operation. 

 
From our log

 

"We were stood down after a couple of inconclusive hours, and made sail again towards the Needles, which we were almost miraculously able to lay close hauled on starboard tack. The wind slowly built up to the mid 20s apparent and under all plain sail we flew straight up the channel at over ten knots, the helm beautifully balanced, with one tack off Lymington and then all the way up to lie off Cowes as light failed. A fabulous, fast sail, with Fran at the helm, with a cold light in her eye. We then had a cock-up when we couldn’t get the main down, and had a horrible hour motoring around in the dark with half a mainsail up, trying to find somewhere to get some lee to anchor and investigate. It’s hardly credible, but the peak hadn’t come down because Ed hadn’t uncleated it. Clearly more tired than he felt, he’d misidentified the halyards and had been spending all his time trying to push string. When he came back to take the helm he slowly realized what he’d done, muttering in disbelief the halyard mantra “Peak to Port, Peak to Port”, and the problem was sorted by Fran in minutes. Morals from the tale: Ed didn’t particularly feel tired, but it had been a longish day, his judgment was clearly addled, and he hadn’t adjusted his behaviour to take account of this; Occam’s razor was not applied, and the blindingly bleeding obvious hadn’t been considered; get another pair of eyes on the problem early on."

 

 
I toned it down for the log, but it was absolutely terrifying, charging around a crowded and relatively unfamiliar piece of water on a dark dark night, unable to get a lee anywhere to investigate it, unable to stop the boat. We could easily have lost the boat, or mown someone else down. It was like the Kegworth plane crash, where they shut the wrong engine down. 
 
And it came at the end of a magnificent day, which produced my favourite photo of Fran on the boat 
 
frances-at-speed.jpg

 

That is a tantalising glance at what probably is a magnificent yacht? Are we allowed to know more?

 

I pulled the old "leave a mooring line on" trick only about six weeks back. It was breezy so I had to move quickly to get out of the marina pen and resulted coming to a sudden halt, a mangled stanchion and severe dent to my pride.