It's been a lethargic start to the year. It began, as all years do, at 0000 in the big hall in Churchdown Community Centre following me counting down the final ten seconds of the last, wishing the crowd Happy New Year and then singing Auld Lang Syne with them. Followed by a cover of Green Day's Good Riddance, as the band re-joined me on the stage.
It was the 59th gig of 2024. Which made for a busy year with the band, and got a lot in the way of sailing with Petrella. The weather last year didn't help much either though, to be fair. Nor my work commitments. Still have to pay the bills somehow.
My ambition is to book fewer gigs this year. Ideally, I'd like about 40. However, we're currently up to 44 in the diary. I'm just not very good at saying no. I do sometimes wonder why. As far as the band is concerned, I have nothing left to prove to myself and I don't need the money the gigs bring in. It's never been much but it was once quite useful.
The time commitment is a big constraint and the relationship management of being in a band can sometimes feel like your in a second, polyamorous marriage; an occasionally very dysfunctional and fractious one. All the quirks and none of the perks.
But I enjoy the gig. I do it because I love it. I'm not sure I could easily give that up. There were points during December (particularly during the more fractious moments of that previously mentioned dysfunctional relationship) when I did seriously think about it though. Which is something of a first.
The irony however, is that if I did actually quit the band, within a month or two I reckon I'd only start another one. I don't think I'd be able to help myself. So better the devil you know.
And I'll try to be a little more conservative with the bookings. I do have a couple of weekends scored out of the 2025 diary as "sailing" each month. I've so far managed to keep them clear. Most of them, anyway. Well, some at least.
Nikki and I did spend the first weekend of the year aboard Petrella. It was our 29th wedding anniversary, so it was nice to get away. Weather was too grim to sail; cold, wet, and very windy. But she's a cosy boat with the cockpit tent up and the heating on below. We took a Saturday day trip out to Newquay (not sure I'd recommend it on a cold, wet and windy January weekend) and stopped to have a wonder around Bodmin town on the way back (not sure I'd recommend it on any weekend in any weather, but perhaps I'm being a tad unfair)
So not the most exotic of weekend escapes, but it was nice to get some time away together. Next year is our 30th, so if she's still putting up with me by then, perhaps I should think about taking her away somewhere a little warmer and a little more exotic for the weekend. Damned if I can think where though. I think "going away" and immediately picture my boat.
We had a couple of new sofas delivered on 2nd of January. I don't spend a lot of time sitting in front of the TV in the living room, it isn't worth fighting Nik for the TV control and we have very conflicting tastes when it comes to what we like to watch. But they are very comfy sofas, which is good for the odd occasion we do sit down to watch something together. Nik seems very happy with them, and the dogs certainly approve.
I know you shouldn't let dogs on the furnishings, but that's a war I lost years ago. With their mum irrevocably on their side, they had me totally outgunned and out manoeuvred from the start.
Tash and the twins came to stay with us for a couple of days. I'm still a little bitter about the fact that she decided to move so far away with them, so it was lovely to have their company again, if only for a bit. The boys are growing like weeds. Not crawling yet, but rolling and wriggling and smiling and giggling and generally thriving.
The evenings are drawing out again, which is a welcome relief. Winter is the season of dog walks around the local park in the cold and dark, and much as I love a walk, I'm not overly fond of either cold or dark However, this winter the tedium of both has been alleviated somewhat by the company of new friends. Another Lottie (a lovely, gentle eight year old Labrador), the dainty, white livewire that is Addy (a Romanian rescue) and the maverick Frank (another Lab) are the regulars, but we also frequently run with Shadow, Honey, Dobbie, Bandit and Charlie joining us as well.
They (and, of course, from my point of view the company of their respective owners) have made the winter entirely more bearable. Sam and Boo (my youngest and his dog) have even started to time their own walks to join us. Both are pretty asocial in temperament, but it seems the draw of the pack is irresistible even to them.
Although, technically, no longer January, I did manage to finally get back out on the water this Sunday. Across the last month the weather has been vexing. A couple of wasted trips to the club saw no racing on account of, respectively, a flat calm and a vicious gale. There was a time when neither would necessarily have prevented me from rigging and heading out onto the water anyway, irrespective of whether or not anybody wanted to race me, but this time around I just couldn't gather the necessary enthusiasm.
They, whoever they are, say a bad workman blames his tools. Perhaps a poor sailor blames the weather?
The Sunday before last, seeing that the forecast was suggesting 45 knots or more by lunchtime, I didn't even bother to get out of bed, assuming nobody else would want to race. And I had 35kg of knotted fur and bad breath wanting to snuggle up with me. Her mum had already got up and gone to work, leaving a warm space in the bed especially for her, apparently.
I was wrong. Four boats did get out on the water and had some great sailing before the worsening weather finally forced them back ashore. I should have made the effort. Instead though, I had a rare day off. I can't say I didn't enjoy it.
So this Sunday I forced myself out of bed after only a few hours sleep following a late gig the Saturday night before and headed down to the Club. The forecast didn't look entirely thrilling, about eight knots or so, and cold at 4°C. I'd had a late gig the Saturday night before and so not much sleep, but I think sometimes you've just got to get on and do stuff, or you drop out of the habit and the stuff stops without you really meaning it to.
It was a fair turn out. Blue skies, ruffled waters, a light but consistent wind with the occasional gust. I'd intended to race my Laser, but as I was changing, my friend Vernon was asking around to see if anybody wanted to sail the Solo association's trial boat, currently on loan to the Club.
So I thought why not and graciously accepted the offer. I've briefly sailed one once, many years ago, at the invitation of another friend at Frampton, but not actually raced with a Solo before. It's a very common class at most sailing clubs. A single handed racing dinghy, designed by Jack Holt in 1956 (he co-designed the Mirror dinghy a few years later) it's a very competitive boat with a fully battened mainsail and plenty of sail controls to tweak the sail shape.
It's a very popular boat amongst a certain demographic. I occasionally joke that Laser sailors retire into Solos and I might too, one day. I'm also often beaten on the water in my Laser by Solo sailors twenty or thirty years my senior, so I would argue there's a certain sangfroid to my gentle mockery.
There were five Solos on the start line of each of the two races, my own included, so we made up almost half the the handicap fleet of twelve that had turned out to race. The association Solo is a lovely boat, and a credit to her class. If, as a Class association, you're going to advertise your fleet and try to lure new members into it by letting them try out a boat, then that's the way to do it. A stiff, eighteen month old FRP hull, immaculately appointed and maintained, with continuous control lines for all the controls and a good, crisp mylar sail. Everything worked exactly as it should and she was an absolute dream to sail and race.
The pleasure of having half the fleet sailing the same class of boat as you means that, whatever the conditions, the racing is close and competitive. And the conditions were lovely, a clear blue sky and bright sun made it feel warmer that it probably was and the wind was enough to keep everybody moving well, with gusts enough to have me fully hiked out at times whilst beating up wind.
After a bit of close work for the first half, I eventually pulled ahead in to clear air and won the first race easily. But I was beaten in the second by the Club's Commodore, Blair, in his own Solo, when, on the beat of the last lap, he took back the lead I'd stolen from him in the lap before. He then consolidated his lead over the rest of the lap, gaining about thirty seconds on me and restoring the honour of the South Cerney Solo Fleet in doing so, taking an easy, convincing win. I was beaten down into third place by Nicola in her Aero, losing to her by a mere two seconds on corrected time.
It was a great morning's racing. The Solo is a gorgeous boat. Although I think if I were to spend that kind of money on replacing my Laser (about 10k for a boat of the quality of the one I'd borrowed), I'd probably opt for an Aero.
On the way home from the Club I called Nik to find out what time she expected to finish work, and on discovering she'd already finished and was on the bus on her way into town to buy a birthday present for her Mum, I diverted and met her for a late lunch at Wagamama's. A perfect end to a perfect weekend, all in all.
So that's January done and 2025 well and truly underway. The evenings are drawing out, and if it's not feeling warmer yet, it will soon. The photos accompanying are a random collection of snaps taken across the month. As I said, it feels like it's been a lethargic, slightly fragmented start to the year, but having now reflected back on it a little, I can't say it's been bad.
