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?

Freefall: personal space

A friend I once sailed with a lot once commented that there's no such thing as personal space when you're racing a dinghy. Much the same could be said about playing a gig on a Saturday night at The Railway.

In most ordinary circumstances, I'm not fond of crowds and generally try my best to avoid them. I guess different rules apply when you put a microphone in my hand.

Only the one gig this coming weekend, so I have Friday night off for a change, then the gig in Thornbury on Saturday, and Sunday back out on the water to race with Alex and the GP14 again. It's Amanda's birthday this weekend, so, inexplicably, she wasn't able to come sailing with me.

SCSC: a jam, a tangle and a lot of fun

A fun weekend. Great gig Friday night just outside Cheltenham, then a brilliant evening Saturday night playing to a packed out full house at The Railway in Bristol. But a late one. Band finished around 0030 Sunday morning, so I was home and in bed for around 0330ish.

Almost amusingly, according to Strava, the gig at The Railway was a better workout than either Saturday morning's karate or Sunday's racing. But in any case, I was back up, showered, shaved, kit bag packed and back on the road for 0920 the following morning to get to the Club for 1000 to meet Alex and his dad Mark and rig the GP14 for the day's racing. 

The wind was a bit lighter this week, and a lot steadier. South, veering southwest, 12 knots gusting into the high teens, but building significantly as the day wore on. The usual two races, a pursuit starting at 1100 followed back to back by a general handicap. 

We were slow rigging the new boat again, so about three minutes late on the water and late to the start for the first race. But we soon caught up with the back of the fleet and started to work our way through the backmarkers. Conditions were easy as we bore away around the second mark of the course onto a short run. 

Me: "Shall we put the kite up?"

Alex: "Definitely!"

The hoist was almost smooth, except the kite's sheet tangled around the prodder on the bow. No idea what you call it but that's my name for it. It's essentially an inconsequential looking six inch extension that looks like a tongue depressor you'd find in a doctor's office, and it's purpose is to stop the spinnaker lines from slipping under the bow of the boat.

In this case, said line had wrapped around it whilst we were rigging and was now preventing the launch.

Advantage of a twelve year old crew is that they are light, very nimble and up for anything. So I eased he halyard a little and sent him scampering out on to the foredeck to untangle the sheet, then Alex safely back in the cockpit, completed the launch.

At which point it was time to drop it again, and harden up amongst the crowd onto a very close reach up to the next mark.

The usual marks of the course at South Cerney are numbered buoys at various relatively static points around the lake, working clockwise from 1 to 6. The morning's course was a beat to a port rounding at #4, a close reach to round #1 on port, a run down to a port rounding at #6, a very close reach to a port rounding at #4, a beat up to round #2 on port, followed by a long run down the length of the lake to gybe around #5 on starboard.

The second hoist for the stretch down to #5 was much better so we enjoyed a long, easy run under the kite to the gybe mark, but left the drop a little late so had a rushed, inelegant mark rounding. Second lap, and and inelegance of the last drop paid us back when we hoisted the kite again for the short run down to #6 and the kite came up hour-glass wrapped in a nasty figure-of-eight.

Alex is a Cadet sailor and so has a lot of practice crewing with spinnakers, although the Cadet is a significantly smaller boat with an accordingly smaller suite of sails. But he was admirably calm working out the tangle in the brief time and space we had on the run down the leg to the rapidly closing mark, working the sheets, and talking me through easing the halyard to help whilst I tried not to collide with any of the surrounding Lasers and Solos also running for the same mark.

The kit straightened out and flew clean for a brief moment before we had to drop it and harden up onto the next let.

For the the third and what became the final lap the hoist was clean and the kite flew well, but when we got to the drop, the halyard jammed and the kite refused to come down. We rounded #6 and hardened up onto a reach, letting the main spill, Alex taking the tiller whilst I stood up on the foredeck to try and work out what the problem was.

I could see the spinnaker halyard wrapped around the head of the genoa, possibly caught on the shackle of the sail's halyard, but couldn't work out how to free it out on the water. The safety boat loitered nearby, asking if we needed assistance, but we declined, and limped back to land at the pontoon near the committee hut.

Alongside, I released the rig tension and we stepped onto the pontoon with the intention of capsizing the boat so I could reach the tangle, but the wind filled the kite, and with the tension out of the rig was enough to pull the sail loose. Alex reboarded and stowed the kite, I untangled the genoa that was wrapped around the forestay, and we relaunched, me pulling the rig tension back on as we left the pontoon.

We'd dropped out of the back of the fleet, but hadn't missed a mark or accepted outside assistance, so as the race finished a few minutes later, we still took a place, albeit last with an inglorious 12th.

The wind built for the second race, but we'd untangled all the tangles and were getting quickly comfortable with the boat. We had a great start, on the line and moving as the gun went, in relatively clean air with just a solo to windward and slightly astern. We gradually pulled ahead and as the fleet tacked off on to port behind us, we followed, putting us clear ahead of most for the windward rounding.

The course remained the same, and the hoists and drops were becoming practiced. We had a few tangles on the beat with the genoa where it tangled with the spinnaker pole because we'd failed to stow it properly after the drop, but no more tangles or mishaps with the kite.

With the wind veering to the southwest, the long run down to the starboard rounding on the final gybe mark had turned into a dead run, so across the first couple of laps we had some valuable practice gybing with the spinnaker.

On the final lap, we rounded #2 and hoisted the kite, but couldn't lay the mark at #5 on a starboard tack. The conditions were getting boisterous as I called for the gybe, but Alex commented that things were getting too jumpy with the kite and suggested we drop.

A quick, flawless drop followed by a gybe onto port, just as the gust hit. The little boat leapt onto the plane and charged ahead as we trimmed the sails, slid back and hiked out to keep the boat flat and she flew down the leg. Back onto the rhumb line we gybed back onto port and closed up on the Solo ahead. A quick glance saw boats going down astern of us as they rounded #2 and up ahead we could see Garry's RS300 capsized and on its side with the safety boat in attendance very close to the mark. 

We won an overlap on the inside of the Solo well clear of the three boat lengths needed to give us rights at the mark, but he made it very clear he wasn't going to contest. We gybed neatly between the stricken RS and the buoy, then hardened up neatly onto the beat to cross the line and finish.

Of the eleven boats at the start, two retired, and we took a very creditable 4th place. Happy with the result and very happy with the boat. Especially as there's lots of obvious room for improvement.