Lesson of the week

Must put some effort into finding a gum shield that I can wear. They
typically interfere with my breathing and most make me want to gag, so
I've by and large got away without one these last eight years.

Of course, the better plan would be to not get hit in the first place.
But sometimes, that's just where the main lesson needs to be found.

Stan

It was very frosty this morning when we picked him up. Which was handy, because it meant the mud in the kennel's run was frozen.

Izzy

That's the dog transport all done, three dogs shifted to their respective foster homes, happy endings all round.

Home in time to chill for half an hour before heading out for the gig.

The pretty face in the photo is Izzy, sat in the crate in the back of my car after we'd dropped Stan off and picked her and Tatty Ted up.

Moonlight over Robinswood Hill

Taken this evening, having turned left just as I reached the park with Bear. Looking east, the name of the star to the left of the Moon is bugging me. Didn't stand out as I took the snap. Bright enough to show despite the spring moon. Possibly not a star, but Venus?

Was a pretty night for a walk through the park, in any case.

Class is out for Christmas

Just over half way through the RYA Day Skipper theory course, and classes are finished now till after Christmas. Apparently, we've got all the navigation related maths stuff done. Just have to remember how to do it all now till we take the exam some time in February, after which I guess we go back to cheating our way across the wide waters using GPS waypoints and chart plotters....

It's been fun, but I can't say it isn't a nice break getting my Thursday evenings back.

Never say never

An interesting read on the Yachting World site:

www.yachtingworld.com - Elaine Bunting - Never Say Never

First race on Sunday is at 11am....

Stan; The Management; Not a Sunday to Solo

The picture is Stan, taken last Saturday at Droveway Kennels, when we
picked up his kennel mate Luna to take her to her new foster home in
South Somerset, but had to leave him behind; a question of fees
outstanding and no suitable foster home to take him to.

We're going back for him this coming Saturday. The Rescue has, with the
hugely generous support of its friends and members, raised the money to
cover the significant but not unreasonable fees owed to Droveway, and
we've secured him a foster home in Weston. One of the trustees of the
Rescue with lots of experience with shy and nervous dogs has agreed to
take him in.

It's a relief, and a weight off my mind, even if it does mean a whole
Saturday's worth of driving around the South West again for yours truly
before the Saturday night gig.

The gig is a Christmas bash for a Bristol biker's club called The
Management MC, which should be a bit of fun. Ben, a long time, good
friend of mine and the Band's is a member, and was asked to organise
their party, but got let down by the band he'd booked at the last
minute, so asked us. We had nothing booked that Saturday at the time
because our drummer was booked out elsewhere (doing a school musical of
all things, not exactly rock 'n' roll, but earns a living) and the
guitarist had his own work's Christmas party to go to.

But it was Ben asking, so we've asked our friend Jake to stand in for
Bean on the drums (miraculously, he was free) and our guitarist Matt has
forfeited his deposit for his work's party and said he'll come play with
us instead.

I'm looking forward to it, despite the long-haul day I'll have to get
through first.

The rewards come Sunday. Hels is back and will crew for me, so I don't
have to rely upon that wastrel eldest son of mine not oversleeping
again. It's not going to be a Sunday to solo the Enterprise. Windguru is
suggesting 12 knots gusting 23 from the west; seems almost too good to
be true, but I've double-checked with the Met Office forecast and that's
largely the same, so I'm going to cling to the hope.

Temperatures are finally dropping towards winter. We've had a hard frost
or two this week, and the Sunday looks like it'll be a little above
freezing. But the wind should need more than enough work to keep us warm.

First race is 11am, second 1pm, so should be home to walk the dogs just
after dusk.

The things you learn; Japanese Maple

I've always enjoyed the wit of Clive James. Never paid that much attention though, other than the odd half chanced stumble across his writing, usually online in the Guardian, I guess. So I never realised the man was a poet.

And feeling slightly awkward that he hasn't succumbed to his terminal illness yet.

Like I said, I've always enjoyed his wit.

www.theguardian.com - Clive James - Japanese Maple

Volvo Ocean Race

Sobering thought that even the professionals get it wrong sometimes.
Glad all hands are safe. At the end of the day, a boat's just a boat.

http://www.volvooceanrace.com/en/news/8086_The-call.html

The closest I'll ever get to a writer's award

Missed the Lydney Yacht Club Dinner Dance on account of Saturday night's gig, but have just read through the awards list that's now been posted up and was surprised to notice:

Best Log - Bill Gribble - Awarded for his gripping account of his exploits on the 'unofficial' Ring Trip.

So it seems if I can't win any silverware in a given year for my racing prowess (and this is going to be one of those years, I think) then the trick is to tip Dad out of a Drascombe Lugger, and then write about it.

I'm quite tickled. And quietly pleased.

Links to the offending report follow, as previously posted on this site:

The Gloucester Ring 2014 - outbound & The Gloucester Ring 2014 - return

Track

Amusingly, the track from yesterday's drift informs me that I managed an
average speed of 1 knot over the course of the hour. Whilst to the
layman, that might seem tediously dull, to me it's something that's
always expressed a little of the magic that sailing is about.

Racing in such light air is always an intensely tactical, concentrated
affair. Horrifically boring to watch, I would imagine, but we didn't
have that problem for the specators yesterday, as they couldn't see more
than thirty feet from the pontoon anyway.

When it's so light, the slightest mistake, a misplacement of weight or
ill judged shift of balance, can stop you dead in the water, costing you
valuable minutes that will loose you the race. Let your attention wander
for a moment, and what mere whisper of a breeze there is can swing 180
degrees unnoticed, and the boats you left clear behind a half hour ago
are back on top of you again and rolling over you, smothering your air.

And it's so easy to hit things, racing marks, other boats. The sail
setting has to be precise, the balance and trim exact and perfectly
timed, or control just slips away.

But it's not that.

It's the fact that on a day when the fog is thick across the water, the
air still and the surface of the lake mirror smooth, a boat like Buffy
can still magic enough energy out of the air to ghost along at 1 knot.
Amazing stuff, sailing.

The pretty face at the top is Lexi. I took the photo over a year ago
now, as she was being handed over to us to foster for the Rescue. She's
a lovely dog. They're all lovely, but she utterly stole my heart, and I
so very, very nearly kept her despite the house being already overrun
with muddy paws. Truth be told, I would have done, I tried but they
wouldn't let me (by "they" I mean my wife and Lin, the lady that runs
the Rescue; and they were right, which is a point I conceed to others
ever so rarely)

We saw her again the weekend before last, at a dog show in Bristol.
She's as sweet as ever, and clearly very, very happy, loved to bits and
very well looked after in her new home.

They're lovely people, and I'm grateful to them for taking her in.

But she'll always be the one that got away.