PENNANCE FOR STAYING AT HOME
Born Slippy was nearly made an ex boat on Saturday.
We were asked to do a sandwich duty at the club (lunch for 175 people), but at midday they said we could go sailing. So I rushed rigging and left H to make 200 cups of tea. I managed to mis-rig almost every rope in the boat. Imagine pulling in the jib via returns in the cunno or playing a main with two twists in it whilst in an on/off gusting 5. We swam alot, on every dunking we re-rigged something else that was wrong. After we though we had sorted everything out went for a hoist.
As the kite made it's way up the mast the boat sprang sweetly onto the plane and grins returned to a tired crew. Then it became evident I'd rigged the halliard under the spreader, the kite bagged, dragged and we think we pitch poled. Whilst inverted we drifted into a row of moored boats, on popping up we had to invert again as there was no room to sail out. When we got upright the wind shifted and after failing to bear away we got caught in another boat and had to be freed with use of a knife and a one handed chin up. From then on we had one tiller extension, no helm traps and 3 miles vs wind and tide to get home against.
With Hayley flat on the wire and a bit of main we actually went up hill fairly well, but as the wind got stronger we started to capsize after every second tack. After being blown over with H on wire and jib and main flogging I tried steer with my feet with no success and eventually the rescue boat asked us to put in on Hoo island - there were 3 boats without masts and too much swimming for them to cover us as well.
Hoo island is an unpopulated muddy marsh wasteland and I’m not a fan of it. On our way to shore we hit a rip tide and got washed onto one of the groin barges, these are old transport barges sunk at the end of the island to make a harbour. I ended up with my shoulders on Slippy’s hull, feet on the barge whuilst H held the end of the mast with her buoyancy aid keeping it and her out of the mud. The wind and tide did their best to mate Slippy and the barge. Along the water line there were 5 inch steel spikes where the fendering used to attach, I think cut the end off my finger on one of these. The barnacles on the barge made shreds of my wet boots, and worse of my hands. If the hull had been washed on it would have worked like 5 grit sand paper and pressure and waves would have ripped her to shreds. After what felt like an eternity I managed to walk along to the bow of the barge and pull Slippy Free.
In the shelter of the barge there was no wind or tide, so we de-rigged lashed the mast to the deck and watched the carnage, the highlight was a laser 3000 that broke it’s forestay infront of us - one minute sailing, next minute trawling. Two hours later we were towed back to civilisation, by a knackered but truly excellent rescue crew. The only casualty was the new tailpipes, both damaged on bow of barge, the B&Q insulation foam failed in shear. H and I are bruised and I’m a little sliced up.
After a night of medicinal tequila we spent Sunday morning re-rigging, moving stiffly and washing the blood off the decks. In the afternoon we headed out in a fun 3-4 for a quick spin down river. Sailed for an hour, had a screaming kite run and decided to stop before our arms fell off.
Agony and ecstasy some say, this weekend was more agony really.
