Messing About In Sailboats

Happy 4th of July

Song For Friday: Rubikubism - Come Together/London Calling

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If you are in New York this weekend

Received this heads-up from Brian Luster:

Karen and I were headed down the West Side Hwy on Saturday when we spotted some very tall masts.  Turns out, as some of you know, that HMS Bounty is in town for the 4th.  Anyone know if any other tall ships are planning to be here?  Any plans for a parade of sail or some-such?

Also, I've put up a new post on A Movable Bridge.  If you have me in your blogroll and haven't already done so, please change the link to http://amovablebridge.wordpress.com

BTW: The photo is Bounty in SF

I love the smell of chlorine in the morning

The Tugster and Bowsprite posed a great challenge: Make July 1st Swim Day. Getting into the water isn't going to happen so I racked my brain for dramatic accounts of near drownings. Sadly my stories of swimming are pretty dull. To be honest I don't really like swimming very much. For me it's where I learned and the guy who taught me.

I grew up in Central London. Chelsea to be precise. It's now a glamorous neighborhood, but when I were a lad, it was more down-to-earth. Yes, it was ground zero for the swinging sixties and to this day Austin Powers makes me strangely nostalgic but Chelsea was actually a real neighborhood with real people, greengrocers, butchers, ironmongers (hardware stores in American), real pubs, council flats, a great local library and best of all a public baths.

Public baths were a Great British Victorian institution. They literally were, where people went to take a bath. Like many public baths, Chelsea Public Baths was a Victorian brick edifice on the King's Road next to the Town Hall, local cinema (movie theater) and public library. That one block was the municipal nexus for 10s of 1000s of Chelsea inhabitants.

On the outside it was red brick and institutional in the sort of Victorian way that says get your arse inside and be bloody grateful. On the inside it was a mixture of lino and tile. The entrance hall was functional with a snack machine serving Bovril (a hot beef drink) and smoky bacon crisps.

Beyond that almost every surface was heavy industrial Victorian white tile - scratched, chipped, slathered in a film of disinfectant to seal in the bacteria festering in the cracks.

The changing rooms served two purposes. Changing and taking baths. It was my first encounter with how lucky I was to grow up with basic things I took for granted like a bathtub and hot running water. While I passed through the changing rooms as fast as I could, there were others who were there for their weekly baths. A moment of luxury. Taking, hot steamy baths in small private, dank looking bathrooms that would be theirs for an hour a week.

The swimming pool was something else. The smell of chlorine and wet heat were overpowering. Your eyes stung as it hit you. The pool was not quite Olympic size, probably an Imperial 50 yards long rather than an Olympic 50 meters. It was about about 10 feet deep at one end and 4 feet in the shallow end. There was a slightly rotting, algae-covered wood rail along the sides and one solid, crappy diving board about 8 inches off the floor. When you bounced off the end you got about as much spring off it as a brick wall.

If you were lucky enough to have goggles (it was Britain in the 60s after all) you were unlucky enough to see what lurked on the bottom. Used band-aids and the occasional cigarette butt, a big iron grate with evil looking slime clogging the holes.

Best of all was the warning sign with the mysterious NO PETTING. One more thing that this municipal building was apparently a destination for. I never was really too sure what petting was but it had to be pretty dangerous to be in the same league and bombing and ducking.

The No Smoking admonition was especially controversial. Frankly I can't recall a time when I went there when there weren't rows of people in the gallery puffing away. In the end it took a national rumor that cigarette smoke and chlorine mixed together was explosive to finally put an end to it.

The main reason I went was to learn to swim. I was 6, maybe 7. My mum signed me up and she had paid up for a full course so the threat of bacteria, bombing, cigarette smoke and chlorine mix or not, I was going dammit!

The thing that made it worth it was the guy who taught me to swim. He was a young Israeli guy called Joseph. This was pretty cool. I had never met anyone from Israel and I can remember to this day his heavy Israeli accent teaching me the strokes, lots of encouragement, never a negative word and no shouting. He loved what he did and it was infectious.  I couldn't wait for my weekly lesson. Thanks to him I learned to swim quite well and pretty young for the UK. I even went on to swim for my school.

Well to be precise, I represented my school once in the 100 meter backstroke. I am sorry but the backstroke sucks. The thing I hated most was that you could see the crowd as you were swimming. I could see the look of sympathetic but slightly embarrassed disappointment on my father's face as he sat in the gallery watching his offspring come dead last. That was the end of my competitive swimming career.

The brick edifice is still there at the corner of King's Road and Chelsea Manor Street.  I am sure it was sold off and is now a cleverly re-branded leisure club with a weight room, spin classes, yoga and not a hint of chlorine.

I bet there's still petting going on.

Sailing Photo Of The Day- Yachts emerging through the mist

Yachts emerging through the mist, originally uploaded by leightonian.

Sailing mentors - Who's yours?

One of my favorite bloggers and twitterers is Mark Hendy. He lives in the UK and shares a common passion for sailing. One of his recent posts was  about how he got into sailing thanks to his sailing mentor, Tony. One outing on a boat with Tony and he was hooked:

Once we got the main sail up and switched off the engine I could feel the boat moving through the water under natures own power;  the sound of the water along the side of the hull was magical and I was in a place I liked being.  It became obvious within the next few hours that I loved sailing and I knew I needed to own my own boat.  Not a shared boat, my own.

This got me thinking about my own sailing mentors. I have been sailing for over 20 years and there have been four. The first two were both called Tom and could have not been more different.

Our first sailing instructor was a retired engineer called Captain Tom, who was retraining to be a Lutheran minister. At weekends he taught sailing on his Morgan 42. What a lovely guy! A great teacher who took us under his wing, taught us how to sail and then helped us find our first boat a Cape Dory Typhoon. Coincidentally we bought it from one his former mentees. Without his help and advice we would not have become addicted to this great way of life.

The second Captain Tom was a skipper for the Offshore Sailing School who taught us to live aboard in the BVI's. He was a gruff, rum-drinking, Floridian who taught us more in a week than I have ever learned. We saw him a  year later and he hardly remembered us - so not much of a mentor/mentee thing. You can read more about him and our exploits in this post.

Since then I was mentor-less until fairly recently. I am lucky to have two great and fairly recent friends who are both highly experienced sailors. Like any good mentor, they are generous with their insights if requested but don't feel the urge to ram it down my throat. Always helpful without being patronizing.

One of my mentors is my mate Phil, an Aussie who is the proud owner of a beautiful Swan 42 that he has double-handed in the Newport to Bermuda several times. Most of the time he cruises her out of Sag Harbor. I have been out on the boat with Phil and his wife Joy a few times and out for beers even more often. He has been a great source of ideas about the pros and cons of owning your own big boat and where to sail in the region. I feel much clearer about what I am looking for long-term thanks to Phil.

My other mentor is Howard, the skipper of Knot Again. Howard owns a C&C 34 that he races in Raritan Bay with yours truly frequently on the starboard winch. Howard is mostly self-taught and has clearly studied sailing well. He has been a frequent winner at RYC and drives his wife crazy with all the silverware. Every time I am on the boat with Howard I learn something new. He is a great tactician and a great person to answer technical questions about sail trim etc.

Howard is a "skipper factory". There are several other boats at RYC owned and skippered by Howard's former crew who have learned from him and then gone on to campaign their own boats.

I would love to hear about your mentor stories. I will of course share them back on this blog.

Sailing Photo Of The Day - Challenge Julius Baer

Challenge Julius Baer, originally uploaded by ALINGHI OFFICIAL FLICKR AREA.

Cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey

Cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey, originally uploaded by Bruce Kerridge.

Great photo by Bruce Kerridge and story behind the photo. Although I think he may be wrong about the origin. I always understood that the brass monkey was a pile of cannon balls. When it was cold the brass cannon balls contracted and the pyramid of cannon balls fell apart. Hence the balls fell off if you get my meaning.

Adam

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I’ve had a few emails from people who've seen some of my sailing shots, asking for a shot taken on-board during long ocean yacht races when I've been stupid enough to do those races.

This one sure ain’t ‘photographic art’, but you asked for it....... So what you see is what you get

It’s taken midway through the annual Sydney to Hobart yacht race – one of the classic ocean races of the world, and taken at a location about 80 miles offshore in the Bass Strait, between mainland Australia and Tasmania.

After three nights at sea, sitting on the rail of the boat in bitterly cold conditions as it lurches south through monster seas, on the verge of breaking-up, you are so wet, tired, sore, sleep-deprived and nauseous that you wonder why you do it. The only rationale is maritime masochism, or alternatively some sort of ego-trip for idiot yachties.

You’re not sure if you’re dreaming or living in reality.

You think you've died either of drowning or hypothermia, then you realise you can’t be in heaven because it’s not pleasant, and you can’t be in hell because it’s too bloody cold to be hell.

You're terrified when you realise you are actually alive and this is reality. But you're at sea so you can't get off. There's no way out, and no hiding place.

When your sanity returns you realise the best way to avoid sea-sickness is to sit under a tree looking at cows grazing, and reading a book.

The shot was taken with a cheap “focus free” waterproof film camera (basically a $20 camera in a plastic case held together with a rubber band) and then scanned. Don’t ask for technical details because there aren’t any. This is serious low-tech

The title of the shot means not what you might have imagined (as evocative as that might be). It is a 19th century British naval expression, relating to the pair of magnetised balls that sit atop the brass binnacle housing the yacht’s compass. Hence derivatives such as “brass monkey weather” etc – are relevant only to idiots who choose to go out to sea when sensible people don’t. 

Bruce Kerridge

Song For Friday: Jackson Five - I want You Back (with the Coz)

Sailing Photos of The Day - Very Blue

A nice collection from Carlo Borlenghi

Great Quote By Douglas Adams

This pretty much sums up sailing especially stuff what needs fixing:

The major difference between a thing that might go wrong and a thing that cannot possibly go wrong is that when a thing that cannot possibly go wrong goes wrong it usually turns out to be impossible to get at or repair.
  - Douglas Adams

Storms with Tornados in the Mediterranean

Photos by Guido Trombetta . Here is the email I received about this:
"Storm with whirlwind strikes Isola d'elba. Hundreds of boats sunk or scattered over the beaches. One skipper is still missing in the sea"

Sail Habilitation by Guest Author Tim Fletcher

I became involved with this organization a few years ago.  Both my parents were stroke victims, and both were paralyzed as a result.  Frankly, until that time, the disabled were relatively "invisible" to me.  But, when your daily routine is suddenly changed -- a whole new world opens up.  I knew that I would have to do more in my life to help 'people with special needs' -- and I loved sailing.  So, I got this great idea -- how about doing something with handicapped sailing.  Fortunately for me, many people with far more experience were already pioneering this venue -- and by amazing coincidence, a program exists right here in New Jersey -- and not far away at all.  So I got involved in 2006 as a volunteer.  Now, I'm hoping to do more to assist this fine organization.

Sail Habilitation was founded by Dr, Stephanie Argyris in the mid-1990's, as a way to help with rehabilitation in certain phyiscal therapies.  Stephanie had sailed Sneakboxes growing up on Barnegat Bay, and got the idea that the very tactile nature of sailing could help people in recovery.  From that, grew a program of holding community sailing events open to all people of special needs.  These events are currently hosted once or twice a year at the Lavallette Yacht Club on the Tom's River in New Jersey.  They are open to anyone with a special need, including the extreme elderly, and their caregivers.  The event generally lasts about half of a day.  Clients with special needs and their caregivers arrive early in the morning and are fed breakfast.  Volunteers, under the direction of professional Physical Therapists, assist in outfitting the clients with safety gear and transferring them into sail and power boats, donated by members of the club and other local sailors.  Clients enjoy some time on the water, then return for lunch before ldeparting.

This is great program that needs to continue and grow.  At this time, we are urgently seeking donations to fund this year's community sail, scheduled at Lavellette for Saturday, August 1st.  Essentially, Sail Habilitation needs to raise $4000, in order to cover the premium for the liability insurance required to conduct the events (this premium would also cover any additional events for the year).  Sail Habilitation is strictly a volunteer non-profit (503-C) organization.  Every $1 that is donated  goes directly to the special-needs clients -- all other items, foods, docks, boats, management, etc, are donated.  Very few charitable organizations can make this claim.

You can read more about Sail Habitation here and by Charles Zusman from the Star and Ledger here.

Here are members of SailHabilitation "Team Odyssey" who raced the Sonar class for the USA in the Paralypics last year in China.  This is a high profile organization, and much more can be realized for these folks.  More is found on their website.

How to Help

The nonprofit Sail-Habilitation must raise $4,000 for insurance to continue holding free Community Sailing Days for people with physical disabilities or special needs. Although the next community sail is planned for Aug. 1 at the Lavallette Yacht Club, it cannot be held unless the group can pay for insurance.  Those who would like to contribute may send a check made out to Sail-Habilitation to P.O. Box 228, Island Heights, NJ 08732.

For more information, e-mail sailhabilitation@aol.com, and the organization's acting president, Antoinette Gobar, will respond.

PS: I just mailed a check - Adam

Boom!

Last weekend, I crewed on Knot Again in the Keyport Yacht Club Bill Volks Cup in aid of Leukemia. Last year we won the B1 non-spinnaker Class. This year in addition to some tough competition from Keyport we faced our own clubmate on Forbidden, a fast boat with a great pedigree.

As ever, I was on starboard winch, partnering with my pit-mate Jeff. The regatta was a two-day affair, with 3 races on Saturday and 2 on Sunday. We won the first and third race on Saturday but came last in the second as we got the headsail fouled-up on the pole drop. Sunday we were second and third. We ended the weekend second overall with Forbidden in first. (We got our revenge on Wednesday by winning the mid-week race against Keyport, taking first in a fleet of 15 boats).

It was an eventful weekend physically. Winching on these fairly short races is a surprisingly good work-out but it was also eventful in a couple of other ways. Firstly, on Saturday, I made the mistake of standing up to tall over the winch on a tack. The traveler was released accidentally and the boom flew to starboard on the tack, smacking me across the head at speed. So that's how the boom got its name.

It cut me pretty badly and I bled like a stuck pig all over the winch. I was lucky. It was glancing blow. If the boom had been an inch or so lower, it would have probably knocked me out.

I went to ER that evening. Fortunately the wound did not require stitches and was simply cauterized.

Sunday, was equally eventful. Basically I slipped while standing on the lazarrette and barked the hell out of my shin. It was bloody painful and I let out a loud Anglo-Saxon expletive. The 12-year old lad who was on board was delighted by this and even more so when I showed him the wound. "Cool" were his exact words.

The irony is that I played rugby for 7 years and soccer forever but never suffered anything but a few knocks and grazes. My worst sporting injuries have all been sailing. Who says it's a genteel sport?

In future I will be suiting up for regattas like an NFL player.

Where I wish I could have been yesterday

Here's a clue: IOW

Sailing Photo of The Day - AUDI MELGES20 Sailing Series 2009

C/o Bruno Cocozza and Carlo Borlenghi
 

Sailing Photo Of The Day - Marion to Bermuda Race 2009

Marion to Bermuda Race 2009, originally uploaded by LeightonOConnor.

Great photos from a wet and windy start of this year's Marion-Bermuda c/o of the awesome Leighton O'Oconnor

Song For Friday: Thin Lizzy - Whiskey In The Jar

Time Lapse of Cruise Ship Transiting The Panama Canal

Almost hypnotic.

More of the Classic Sailing Pilot Cutter Review Sunday 14th June 2009 Amelie Rose - Annabel J

Adam Purser of Classic Sailing Pilot Cutter Review Sunday 14th June 2009 Amelie Rose - Annabel J, originally uploaded by Adam and Debbie Purser of Classic Sailing.