SCSC: of drifts and screamers

A photo of our GP14 taken a couple of weeks ago. Despite the pink spinnaker Amanda wasn't actually crewing for me; we had sailed the morning races together, and then Alex (an infectiously enthusiastic thirteen year old) came out with me for the afternoon pursuit, which we won.

The photo was taken from the shore by his dad, Mark. Conditions were very, very light. This spring the weather seems to have gone from one extreme to the other, and it's either been a drift where it's been very difficult to get enough pressure into the sail to set the kite, or a white-knuckled 30 knots screamer of a blow where the idea of launching the kite has terrified both helm and crew. No easy middle-ground where we'd have the opportunity to get used to the third sail.

So Amanda, myself and Alex are still getting ourselves into frequent tangles, more often than not. Admittedly, Amanda and I more than Alex and I, but Alex has the advantage of lots of spinnaker practice racing with the cadets.

We're still having very good fun working the boat out though. 

Gigs tonight and tomorrow, then I'm racing at the lake again on Sunday. Amanda can't make it as it's her mum's birthday, so I've got Alex crewing for me all day. The forecast is 15 to 26 knots from the northeast, which, when your crew weighs less than your dog, is likely to be a bit of a handful.

Three races are scheduled, two class handicap races in the morning, and a pursuit in the afternoon.

unimpressed (but still cute)

I was a little late picking Lottie back up from the groomers yesterday. Apparently, she was not impressed. Lottie, that is. Amanda, the lady with the brush and clippers, was very understanding (as was her next client whom I'd kept waiting).

Lottie turned 4 last month. They grow up fast.

Freefall: mud and rain

Dad is recovering well, and seems very happy with his new bionic knee. He actually made it back out to his first gig again last Saturday. It should've been a balmy evening sat in a farmer's field, watching the band play on the back of a truck.

Of course, we're still in the midst of an English spring, and after a few weeks of sunshine and hot weather, on Saturday night the rain set in thick and hard just as we arrived to set up, and didn't relent until the gig ended, when the rain then cut off as if on cue.

We had to rely on a friendly local to tow the band's trailer out of the field with his pickup, then go back to tow the drummer's car out.

It was otherwise fun, although a bit nippy; my breath was steaming in the air as I sung. Dad was fine, we installed him on a camping chair in the bar tent where he comfortably spent the night out of the rain watching the band play.

I've now got to clean the mud off my kit in time for tomorrow night's gig.

Dad and I hope to get down to Petrella for the end of the month; it's a bank holiday weekend, so if the weather is kind and his knee suitably healed, we hope to make Fowey or Falmouth or both. It will be our first cruise of the year. In fact, between my health (which is now, happily, fully recovered) and his, it'll be our first since our last trip out to Salcombe last August.

So the first sail of this year is shockingly late. I quietly wonder if perhaps I should give up on the south coast and perhaps look for a boat that's a little smaller and easier to manage single-handed, and closer to home.

But I'll park that thought for now. Petrella and I are far from done. It's just been a frustrating eight or nine months.

Bionic Dad

Gentlemen, we can rebuild him. We have the technology. We have the capability to build the world's first bionic man. Roger Gribble will be that man. Better than he was before. Better... stronger... faster...

Dropped Dad off at the hospital yesterday for his knee replacement. Had a message later that day "It’s a done job! I’m back in my room. Can’t move my legs yet, but I’m starting to move my hips. So Progress!!!" I haven't yet caught up with him this morning, but so far so good.

Though I do imagine he's a little sore. Hopefully bring him home tomorrow, and he'll be well on the road to recovery and ready to resume his crewing duties on Petrella's foredeck.

bad poetry

whether the weather

So, it's not looking kind. Suffice to say, those 20's and 30's in the weekend's forecast are not the anticipated temperature.

lucy & the crocodile

Not sure when I actually wrote the song in the clip that follows, other than sometime towards the end of the last century. Which makes me sound older than I am, although I am now older than I was yesterday, it being my birthday today.

The guitar is considerably younger than both myself and my song, being the newest in my collection, and proof to the fact that the optimal number of guitars for a man to own is n+1, where n is the number of current guitars one is in possession of.

The same is not, I should add, true of boats.

It's a Yamaha TAS3 C, a lovely acoustic possessed of a few simple but clever Japanese electronics, included amongst which is a single track looper; the main reason I bought the guitar and the principle reason I find myself reaching for it most evenings, and why I find it hard to put it back down.

It's what led to this improvised rearrangement of an old song on a new guitar the other evening.

I'm not sure what my plans are for tonight. My wife Nik says "Whatever you want, it's your birthday" which essentially abdicates the arrangements to me. It's the first race of the Wednesday Evening Hotdogs at the sailing club, so I'd quite like to sail. But then I'd quite like to also spend my birthday with my wife, so I shan't. 

Instead, I have to decide whether to take her to the cinema and perhaps a meal out afterwards, or to stay in, watch a film and have something nice for supper at home. We shall see.

In any case, I have a gig tomorrow night, then Saturday morning I'm off down to Plymouth and the boat with Dad and Nik for the weekend, and if work allows, the week following. I'm hoping the weather will be kind and we'll get to sail somewhere. I've missed the sea.

I shall probably take my guitar.

Freefall: hat trick

It was a three gig weekend just gone, which meant no sailing. But neither was there much in the way of wind on Sunday to sail with anyway, so whilst I'm now twitchy from being landlocked for more than a week, I don't suppose I missed out on much.

Friday at Saturday were at the Railway and Pilot respectively, and were as fun and as energetic as those two venues ever are. Sunday was an early evening birthday party for a friend of the family at a venue called Dunkertons, in Cheltenham, and was one of the loveliest, best set up venues we've played at for a long time. 

No gigs this weekend coming. Hoping to head down to the Plymouth and take Petrella out for a sail. Of course, the weather was gorgeous last weekend. Colour me a cynic, but that means it's probably going to do its level best to trash my ambitions. 

of boats and bands and festivals

Last week was a busy one. It was Cheltenham Festival, otherwise known locally as Race Week (on account of there being a bit of horse racing going on) which I'd planned to skip this year, but various interested parties convinced me to do it again.

So gigs Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday evening after work. Except Wednesday, when I snuck out of work in the afternoon to go crew for my friend Charles in his Enterprise for their Wednesday afternoon self-titled "Old Gits" race at Frampton. So I did get a bit of sailing in. It was a lively afternoon, with the wind gusting into the low 20's.

Tuesday and Wednesday were late finishes, but Thursday and Friday were earlier slots, finishing around 8:30pm. The downside being they were on an outdoor stage, under cover of a pavilion tent. Thursday poured with rain, Friday was dry, but the temperature dropped to around 4°c.

I think mid-March now stands as the band's record for the earliest outdoor gig of the year. The latest has long stood as November 5th. Funny enough, that also involved Cheltenham.

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The original plan, and my main reason for negotiating the earlier finish on Friday, was that Dad and I would slip off to the boat straight after the gig, and spend the weekend sailing. A couple of weeks ago, that plan was shot in the foot when somebody pointed out that Sunday was Mother's Day. Nikki pointed out that whilst she may not be my mother, she was the mother of my children, so I was (okay, not unreasonably, I guess) expected to be around on Sunday.

So I made plans to go down to the boat Saturday, just to check her lines and run up the engine. Then my daughter-in-law invited us to lunch Saturday.

A renegotiation with Nikki revealed she was working most of Sunday anyway, so we'd visit the kids Saturday, and Dad and I could go down to check on the boat Sunday.

Saturday was glorious weather. Bright blue skies, light winds. Tash and the twins came with Nikki and I down to Yate to see Ben and Hannah. Lunch was eaten then we took the grandchildren to play in the park. Although I suppose a small part of my soul begrudged the time not sailing, it was lovely seeing Ben and Hannah and our youngest grandson Freddie again. He is totally adorable, and grows more so every day. His bigger cousins, Charlie and Harry are, of course, an absolute riot.

The drive down to Plymouth on Sunday was easy. The lovely staff at Waypoint, the marina's onsite pub, managed to somehow fit Dad and I in for lunch despite already being fully booked because of Mother's Day. Petrella was secure, dry and well. Engine started at the first turn of the key (actually, it's the press of a button, but turn of the key sounds better, I think)

It was pouring with rain and blowing up to 30 knots across the Sound. Even had it not been Mother's Day, we wouldn't have sailed far this weekend anyway.

If work and weather permit, we might get the chance to sail for the week following Easter. Nikki's got some time off, and my schedule at work currently looks like I might be able to swing some too. 

Then on April 14th, Dad's booked in for a knee replacement. That's probably going to slow us down for a month or two.

Freefall: band night

Band practice last night. Keep the volume down unless you're a fan of Wheatus. This was our cover of their "Teenage Dirtbag". Leah, our drummer, commented afterwards (and off camera) that I "sing a very good Noel" 

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I was flattered. Noel is normally Matt's job (our usual guitarist) but our mate Eddy was standing in for him as he's playing a gig with us in Gloucester at the beginning of next month.

Having previously failed to share videos from Facebook here, I was curious to know if the same limitation applied if I shared from Instagram. I suspect it does, but you never know your luck.

SCSC: Chilli Dogs

The weekend's weather took a turn away from sun and blue skies and back to the seasonal grey dank. Driving home from Saturday night's gig in Thornbury was an adventure, with fog so thick I could barely see the road in front of me.

Sunday was murky, a damp feel to the air but not punishingly chill, so long as you kept moving. South of south east, the wind averaged about 3 knots, the very occasional gusts topping out at around 6. 

Uncharacteristically, I got to the Club early, and Alex and I were rigged, changed and on the water in good time for the start of the first race. The light winds caught me out though, and I found myself too far behind the line as our starting numbers dropped, so we were an inexcusable twenty seconds or so late to the start. 

The boat sailed well, however. Just enough wind to fly the kite made for an interesting sail. The sail handling with respect to the hoists, gybes and drops still needs to be smoother, as does the boat handling; our roll-tacks often left something to be desired. But these are all points easily improved with practice and familiarity.

After the two races finished, with us acquitting ourselves with a 6th and 5th out of the eleven boats that raced, we went ashore for lunch, then with the lake to ourselves other than a single RIB with her crew under instruction, Alex and I went back out for a couple of hours of kite practice. The winds stayed light, but that meant the conditions both highlighted our mistakes and forgave of them. 

I vetoed Alex's suggestion for a capsize drill on the way back in, with the excuse that I didn't want to put away the sails wet, and pointed suggestion we save it for warmer weather.

The video above was shot during the first race by my friend Simon. We're the second double hander in the approach to the mark, with the bell insignia on our mainsail, sail number 13862. Unlike the Scorpion ahead of us, the camera doesn't follow long enough to catch our own spinnaker hoist. Probably just as well, I'm not sure our technique is camera ready!

It always impresses me as to how little wind you actually need to make a boat move.

With the significantly slower handicap of the GP14 compared to the Albacore, we're spending much more time racing in amongst the pack, competing for rights and room at almost every mark rounding. I'm quite enjoying the change.

That's the winter's Chilli Dogs series over now. No racing at the Club next Sunday, which is probably just as well as it's Mother's Day. Then the official sailing season starts the Sunday after. Typically, I have a gig that afternoon so will have to miss it. The band's diary again seems to be getting out of control, despite my best efforts to contain it.

spring is sprung

There's been a definite feeling of spring in the air this week. Okay, so yesterday was dank and grey and just a little chill, but these two photos are from Monday lunchtime, and a walk to the park with my daughter and the twins.

Half an hour playing on the swings whilst the dogs explored the hedges and the soup maker bubbled happily along at home preparing lunch for when we got back.

We have blue skies and bright sun outside again today, and a suggestion from the forecast that the temperature outside might even touch 15°C by early afternoon. What to do for lunch, I wonder?