Many thanks to small-boat sailor Tony G for this Guest Writer article in which he shares some of his earlier sailing experiences in Little Sally, a 15 foot bilge keel cruiser.
A First Foray Down The Blackwater Estuary by Tony G
So there I was, standing on the beach just outside the Stone
Sailing Club on the beautiful Blackwater estuary. I had just paid for her and was now the owner of Little Sally,
a Sunspot 15 in slightly scruffy to average condition, in need of some paint,
varnish and anti fouling. The sails were old, tired but in usable condition. A
plough anchor and a 4hp Evinrude outboard engine completed the inventory.
I joined the Stone Sailing Club and was very soon being
offered lots of good advice and practical help from the very friendly and
helpful members. Within a few weeks Little Sally was spruced up, engine
serviced by a local mechanic, provisioned for day sailing and ready to go. I rowed out to Little Sally which was now on
a swinging mooring in the tender, a 2.4m dory which although a bit large
proved to be a very stable little craft. My sailing skills were pretty limited
( they still are) but I cast off from my mooring in a gentle breeze and sailed
downriver with the outgoing tide on a beautiful sunny day. Everything was
looking wonderful for my first adventure in Little Sally. I had no passage plan (I didn’t know they existed) and while
sailing downriver decided to visit Mersea Island. Amazingly I reached the
public jetty at Mersea without mishap; even managing to gently bump against the
jetty, hopefully looking quite accomplished, and tie up. All without even
starting the engine. I've got the hang of this already I thought.
After a stroll around the very pleasant town of West Mersea, which
has the air of still being in the 1950s and a fine lunch in a local café, I
arrived back at the jetty. It was now slack tide and even a novice like me knew
that I should cast off from the jetty pretty quickly as when the tide returned
Little Sally would be pressed against the jetty by the force of the tide and I
would find it very difficult to get off. As the Evinrude outboard engine was direct drive, (no
neutral) I cast off, drifted with the wind away from the jetty and attempted to start the engine. I pulled the
starter cord, adjusted the choke, pulled again several times but it wouldn’t
start. I tried and tried and tried, getting hotter and more annoyed. It still
wouldn’t start so I gave up as I thought I had probably flooded the
carburettor, although I didn’t smell any petrol.
The start of the incoming tide was by now counteracting the
wind and I was slowly returning to the jetty stern first, watched by an amused
audience of holiday makers and children catching crabs off the jetty. To save
myself from further embarrassment I unfurled the jib and began to pick up some
speed. Soon I had I raised the mainsail
and after picking my way through the moorings had almost reached open water. The
force of the tide had now increased but the wind stayed the same gentle breeze
with the inevitable result that although we sailed at the same speed through
the water Little Sally was not actually going anywhere. Correction, we were
again sailing stern first. I tried everything I could think of to increase
speed and used the full range of my sailing skills from A to B (well A anyway)
but it was no use; I had to concede that I was slowly reversing into Packing
Marsh Island. I now know that this a rare skill. It must be because I have
never heard of anybody else managing it!
As Little Sally and I sailed stern first I tried the engine
again but it still wouldn't start. I
waited for the thump of GRP hitting land but we were in luck as we just slowly
came to a halt stuck in the thick ooze of Essex mud. I lowered the sails and
dropped the anchor to ensure that as the tide came in I would not be pushed by
the tide further up the mud. Then I had a brainwave. Put the kettle on.
Soon I was relaxing in the cockpit with my cup of tea, trying
to look as if I had intended to stop at this spot. Between sips I pondered on
the problem of the engine not starting and decided to give it another try. OK,
let's check. Breather valve open, yes. Choke out, yes. Petrol on, no. That’s
why it wouldn’t start. How stupid of me I thought, that’s a lesson I won't forget. I did, of course. I turned on the petrol and on the second pull the Evinrude
started. Little Sally began to forge through the water. As we motored over the
anchor I pulled it up, covered in thick mud, and lashed it to the deck,
scrambled quickly back to the cockpit feeling pleased with myself for solving
the engine problem (even though the problem was caused by me).
When I was back in the main part of the estuary I raised the
sails, stopped the engine and enjoyed the peace of sailing. About twenty minutes later I noticed a grey cone shaped
object floating to port about 100 metres ahead and being curious I altered
course to investigate. As I approached, the cone turned around and a pair of
large dark eyes looked at me. I was surprisingly pleased to meet a seal on my
first outing in Little Sally and as I approached, the seals long grey mottled,
sleek body slid through the water and dived. I sailed on and the seal re-appeared
astern, watching me. The tide was now in full flood and combined with the steady
afternoon breeze we were making what seemed to be a very good speed. I'm not
sure how fast we were sailing as little Sally had no navigation instruments. Eventually I was able to make out my mooring and dinghy
opposite The Stone pub (a good landmark for finding the mooring) and made
preparations for picking up the mooring buoy. The plan was to pass the buoy
about two boat lengths away, turn just as I passed it and use the tide to stop
Little Sally and calmly pick up the mooring, just as I had read about in
Practical Boat Owner.
OK I thought this is it, pass the buoy; yes. Turn, and on
course for the mooring with the momentum slowing rapidly against the tide. Too rapidly, as about six
feet from the buoy we came to a halt and began to fall back. I decided to start
the engine. Pulled the cord a few times with no result. I checked that the fuel was on
(it was) and continued to pull the cord until the engine was flooded with
petrol and I was a bit tired. I decided to give up on the engine and sail back to the
mooring against the tide. However by the time I had manoeuvred through the
other moored boats and got to the point where I could sail back the mooring looked about a mile
away. I sailed for about half an hour but did not seem to be getting much
nearer. I edged closer to the shore, even scraping the bottom with the keels in
an attempt to stay out of the full force of the tide. Painfully slowly Little
Sally made progress towards the mooring, allowing me plenty of time to admire
the very nice scenery and other boats.
It took about an hour to get back to the mooring and tie up.
Over a cup of tea I thought over what my first days sailing had taught me.
•
Things don't always go to plan.
•
Throw out the anchor before going aground.
•
Running aground isn't necessarily a disaster. On
a rising tide you have time to sort out problems and make some tea.
•
Engines don't always work so improve the sailing
skills.
•
Sailing your own boat no matter how modest is
just about the best way of spending a day.
3 comments:
Awesome little piece. Brings back memories of what are still lamentable sailing skills. You've actually sailed up to and picked up a mooring. This summer.......that's my aim
Thanks for a great story guys. Really enjoyable.
Steve
Arwens meanderings
Kind of you to pop in Steve. I'm sure Tony G will read and apreciate your comment. Good luck with the boat this year to.
Hi, ive been tempted to get something like a sunspot 15. Did you really just get on with it after buying it without formal training (i'm hoping to, to familiarise myself before anything more serious but am worried about a catastrophe happening and it being too expensive, what does mooring cost and what do you consider the essential safety kit?)Thanks for teh blog: its matter of fact down to earth description is very helpful.
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