coasts and harbours

Three cockpits

/ Bill

Tongue stuck gently in cheek, I offer you three images.

Like thousands of others, I leant on the railings around the Barbican in Plymouth in early May and admired the TRANSAT boats.

Like hundreds of others, I looked very hard at those boats and put myself on board. “What would it be like in a gale of wind – where would I be, what would I be adjusting next?”

I imagined myself picking up lines, juggling with electronics, changing sails, feeling myself lifted high in the air in those wide cockpits – looking down to leeward as the boat heeled precariously in a sudden gust . . . or standing knee deep in water, looking up as the windward side angled above me . . . or just holding on – (when ‘one hand for you, one for the ship’ becomes ‘both hands for you’) . . not to mention the other tasks of working with the team, managing the press, dealing with costs.

Sure, I can see the differences, this is way out of my league, but are there any similarities with what happens on Blue Mistress?  . . . Is there a common thread?  Or am I just a another dreamer?

This is the cockpit of Gitana Eighty (Loick Peyron)  – as I write, lying first in the IMOCA 60s, making 13.8 knots, with 307 nautical miles to go to Boston, (and, yes, we do deal with figures showing that apparent accuracy).

 

And this is the cockpit of Telecom Italia (Giovanni Soldini) – currently lying first in Class 40, making 7.4 knots in light airs, with 1079 nautical miles to go.

 

Back on  board Blue Mistress – (seen here last month in Fowey, Cornwall),

 

I look round my own short, narrow cockpit. Like Peyron and Soldini, I know every inch of it. Less to know, of course, and I may not have competed every inch of the way across an ocean, but I too have watched the sea from every angle, felt the wind, and eyed the weather.

And there lies the similarity, it’s not in the technology, it’s in the sea and the weather, elements careless of mankind, carrying their own way day after day, century after century.

And if I dare to compare myself (and you) to those sailors currently hurrying acoss the Atlantic, it’s lies in a certain restlessness – that sparkle in the eye, that beat of the heart, that need to test ourselves in those elements.

There’s no mystery, it’s simply being out there for the love of it.

 

What’s in a word?

/ Bill

It has taken me a while to grasp this – I am a bit slow.

If you look at the entry list for the Artemis TRANSAT, it reads, for example,  Gitana Eighty – Loick Peyron, Telecom Italia – Giovanni Soldini.  

On the other hand, in the entry list for the JesterChallenge, it’s the other way round – the sailor is the entrant, the boat his/her vessel.  

This is because the entries to the Artemis TRANSAT single-handed race are Team entries; the entries to the JesterChallenge are Single-Sailor entries.  

Both events have instrinsic value, but it is the concept of single-handedness that differs. The meaning has become confused – in the context of this particular race, at least.

I look at the entries in the TRANSAT as a small boy must look at Formula One cars – from afar.

I look at the entries in the JesterChallenge with genuine understanding and fellow feeling.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The gannets started it

/ Bill

The gannets started it.

We were about three miles off Polperro, heading towards an invisible Rame Head. Low cloud was hiding the cliff-tops, cutting the view with an unnatural straight line. The colours of the day were shades of grey. There was no one but us and a lone fishing boat, some way ahead off Looe Island.

 

In theory, 090 degrees would place us just south of Rame, but not in this wind, in this tide, in this visibility, at this speed – 020 (if she would head that) to take us well south until we could see it.

 

We had been watching the gannets since we left Fowey, their brilliant white backs shining, contrasting with the ink black tips of their long narrow wings – not fishing but flying in two and threes, vigilantly, almost lazily.

 

All at once, everything changed. Action crackled in the air.

 

Over there, they were diving.

 

“Dolphin!” Tony, at the helm, pointing towards the shore.

“There’s another . . . . and another . . . . they’re everywhere!”

 

Sure enough, everywhere you looked, a dark, finned, back would rise easily out the water and slip back, leaving an emptier surface . . . to be replaced by others near and far.

 

I grabbed the camera, forgot to put it on video record and went forward.

 

From the pulpit, I watched three dolphins, two of them twisting around each other, shoot under the bow, then another – not breaking the surface – just looking. Out of the corner of my eye, not six feet away, a shiny back had turned and was swimming alongside us. Two more crossed beneath me.

 

 They won\'t keep still!

 

 

The sea was full of movement. The excitement was contagious, you could put out a hand and feel it. You could smell it.

 

The dolphins were doing what comes naturally, of course – herding a shoal of (probably) mackerel. Spinning it around, pushing it, playing with it. Lunch in grand style.

 

In the few minutes it took us to appreciate the moment, they were gone, moving west behind us – all that activity rapidly slipping astern. We quietened down. Time to put the kettle on and talk about it.

 

Forget our strictly human feelings, we just happened to be there, a bit part in a world that is bigger than us, older than us – one that constantly needs tending.

 

But . . . to stand at the bow of your own boat in a sea full of dolphins!! Can it get much better than that?

On Becoming a Skipper

/ Bill

“Make a list. Then work through it.”  

Good advice generally, but a list implies some sort of linear order – one item written after another. However you look at it, your brain makes the items at one end of the list more important than the other. And what happens to the items in the middle? Working through a list takes time, and, the human condition being what it is, the enthusiasm that greeted the construction of the list and dealing with the first entries will wane as time goes on. 

OK, a list works if you can afford to forget a portion of its contents, but what happens if your occupation involves items that are all of equal importance – each relying on the other for success? 

Take, for example, the knowledge, skills and attitudes required to be the skipper of a small boat, particularly if you want to sail single-handed. You need to get it all right, or at least a good enough proportion of it – in your own style. It might be helpful to know what Robin Knox-Johnson or Ellen MacArthur did in similar circumstances but they’re them and you’re you, and the circumstances won’t be exactly the same, and they’re not there to help you anyway. 

So how do you start? Well, “Make a list. Then . . . . .”   No, there’s another way, using a mindmap. 

Below is a group of skills and attitudes for skippers that I first saw listed in a book – (and my apologies for not noting which one), early last year. It struck me as interesting, well thoughtout and a good starting point from which to build my own skills, so I copied it down. Then I forgot all about it. I found it again this week. 

This is an exercise in getting it all together – and keeping it together. It’s an exercise in converting someone else’s thinking into my thinking. If it appears to you to be an exercise in the blindingly obvious, bear with me, some of it is – but these are the early stages of a much longer enterprise. 

Here’s how I’m going about it. 

Step One: Create a new mindmap. Call it, in this case, ‘On Becoming a Skipper’. Add two branches – ‘Practical Skills’, ‘Theoretical Skills’. Add sub-branches for each set of skills, taken from the original list. Now we’ve developed an image of a complex subject which appears all on one screen.  However, at this stage, the content is still someone else’s work.  

01. On Becoming a Skipper
Step Two: Begin to sort the branches by adding icons based on your own style and needs. Pencil = work on this, cross = not ok, tick = ok and so on.  
02. On Becoming a Skipper
Step Three:Think about it for a while. A couple of days after producing this, I added ‘rigger’ and ‘purser’, the latter being very relevant at the moment.  The point here is that it is not a fixed picture, we can alter it at will. 
03. On Becoming a Skipper
Step Four: Rearrange the skills and attitudes into some sort of order that suits your current needs and style. What are you going to do with what you are learning here? (Or, in this case, what am I going to do?) 
04. On Becoming a Skipper
Step Five: Keep this image at the front (or back) of your mind. Every now and then something else will occur to you and you can add to it. This is a work-in-progress to maintain a balanced approach to growing as a skipper in an age when traditional apprenticeships are not always available or appropriate. The sea is still the sea, sailing is still sailing, and we all need to learn the same stuff regardless of the way we do it. 

As for me, I shall revisit this file regularly. I can see where I need to be working now and I shall add another level of branches, going deeper into each topic, but always the overview will be there.

Maybe we shall look at it again later in the year and see what’s happening.   

The Folksong 26 (sic)

/ Bill / 16 Comments

Blue Mistress back on mooring 1
The main reason I started this blog was to find out about the origins of the Folksong class, and hence my own boat ‘Blue Mistress’. I have learnt a great deal and met some good people from doing so, but after nine months I still only had part of the Folksong story. 

On Saturday, thanks to a small note in Sailing Today, I found a new website www.yachtbrochures.co.uk, run by Mike Davies. Included in a very long list of class names is “Folksong, Eric Berquist, 1983”. Search over.  Mike replied almost immediately to my email and the transaction was completed within a few minutes. An excellent service. Thank you. 

So I have received a brochure written for the Southampton International Boat Show, Mayflower Park, 17-24 September 1983 (Stand B10).  From this I learn that the Folksong was originally sold as “a thoroughbred cruiser/racer you can afford”. 

“Based on the lines of the Folkboat, the FOLKSONG embodies the three principle virtues of that classic boat – looks, performance and economy.”

The builder was Eric Bergqvist, Boatbuilder, The Square, Lymm, Cheshire. 

“Specifications: LOA: 25ft 2in;  LWL: 19.8ft;  Beam: 7ft 3in;  Draft: 3ft 9in;  Ballast: 2500lbs; Hull: GRP, 7oz from deck to waterline, 11oz below; Deck: glass fibre sandwich construction with built-in non-slip surface; Cockpit: self-draining;  Sail area: 280 sq ft;  Engine: provision for an outboard well or an inboard engine.” 

“The Folksong is based on the lines of the Folkboat which was designed in 1941 for a Swedish Yachting Press competition. Over 2000 Folkboats have been built embodying the traditional virtues of a long keel, conventional outboard rudder and seven eighths rig with a sailing performance to match. Although the Folkboat design was intended for wooden construction, clinker and carvel, three fibreglass versions have since been moulded. The Folksong is the only one designed specifically for home completion.

In order to retain both the classic lines and the excellent performance of the craft no attempt has been made to cater for standing headroom. If necessary though, this could be achieved with the use of a spray dodger. The accommodation is not spacious but the layout is flexible. With thoughtful planning and use of timber and fabrics you can create an interior which is warm and comfortable as well as practical.

Twenty five feet is the minimum length of yacht generally considered capable of continental cruising without bravery or heroics. The Folksong is an uncomplicated yacht – economical but with no compromise on safety.” 

There’s more. If you own a Folksong and would like to discuss it, please contact me. Alternatively, I recommend Mike Davies’ website.

The Fate of the “Ceres”

/ Bill / 1 Comment

Taken from an article in the Bideford Weekly Gazette dated December 1st.1936. 

FATE OF THE “CERES”

The 125 years old “Ceres”, veteran of the merchant service, her course now run, lies at the bottom of Bideford Bay, somewhere off Baggy Point.

The “Ceres” sprang a leak on Tuesday night while on a voyage from South Wales to Bude, and foundered after her crew had put off in her boat and had been picked up by the Appledore lifeboat.The Captain is Mr Oswald Jeffery, a married man, whose home is in Richmond Road, Appledore, and the mate Mr Walter Ford, a married man of Irsha Street,, Appledore.They reached Appledore in the lifeboat at about 11 o’clock, and on arrival the Rev Muller offered a short prayer of thanksgiving for their safety.

Captain Jeffery said,” We left Swansea on Tuesday bound for Bude with a cargo of slag.. Because of the weather we intended to go in over the Bar for the night as it was to rough to venture on to Bude. At 8 o’clock I went below to rest for an hour, leaving the mate in charge. An hour later he told me there was water in the engine room. We manned the pumps. We tried to get the ship over the Bar, but the water made her roll badly, and I gave the order for the ship’s rowing boat to be launched. I fired two rockets, and we abandoned the vessel. We lay in the shelter of the “Ceres” which was sinking, and were taken onboard the lifeboat.

Dr. Valentine stood by in case medical assistance was needed, but although wet through, neither the captain nor his mate appeared any the worse for this ordeal.

The “Ceres” was owed by a Bude firm of coal merchants, and was built in Salcombe.  

 Ketch Ceres   1811 – 1936.

Built in Salcombe, Devon in 1811.She carried stores as a revitaling ship at the blockade of Brest during the Napoleonic wars. Was the oldest sea-going vessel afloat until she sank in Croyde Bay one November evening in 1936. My late father Walter Ford always maintained that she sank because the vessel had recently had a new timber set in, and this had swollen and had displaced the much older timbers which surrounded it.

The night she sank was flat calm and the sky clear.

This is one of a number of posts on the Ketch “Ceres”. They are presented in a random order as and when I have found, or been given, new material. If you are interested in maritime history and would like to read more, please use the Search facility on the top right-hand side if this page (‘Ceres’).  If the Search box does not appear on your current screen, then click on ‘Bill’s Boat Blog’ – (or the title of this entry, then ‘Bill’s Boat Blog’), to be taken to the correct page.

The picture on page 90

/ Bill / 2 Comments

Ceres of Bude

Re picture on page 90.

The ketch Ceres is said to be the oldest sea-going craft in existence. She was built at Salcombe, Devon, in 1811, and began by trading to Northern Spain, more than once having narrow escapes from French and American privateers. In the years 1818 and 1814 she was employed by Government carrying British military stores in connection with Wellington’s Peninsular War operations, subsequently reverting to her owners and resuming ordinary trading. She first came back to Bude in 1826, and has been in the ownership of her present owners since 1852. She was altered in rig in 1865, and subsequently was cut in two and lengthened by 13 feet, being registered 44 tons and carrying 85 tons. In 1912 she was successfully transformed to a motor ship by the successful installation of a 30 h.p. semi-Diesel engine, which enabled her to keep close to the shore and so avoid the fate of several other coasting vessels sunk by submarines off the North Cornish coast during the Great War. Ceres is still in active commission, having passed her four-year Board of Trade survey in 1930.

(Photo by J. H. Petherick, Belle View, Bude. Sent by Mr. J. W. W. Banbury, Lloyd’s Agent, Bude, Cornwall.)

This is one of a number of posts on the Ketch “Ceres”. They are presented in a random order as and when I have found, or been given, new material. If you are interested in maritime history and would like to read more, please use the Search facility on the top right-hand side if this page (‘Ceres’).  If the Search box does not appear on your current screen, then click on ‘Bill’s Boat Blog’ – (or the title of this entry, then ‘Bill’s Boat Blog’), to be taken to the correct page.

More History of the Ceres

/ Bill / 3 Comments

When you explore the history of a boat, any boat, you quickly discover you are not the only one interested in her. Ceres was particularly well-known and appreciated by a wide variety of people. The piece below, from the P.S.N.C. Magazine, was written by someone with a far greater call on her than I – the great-grandson of the original owner.

The History of the Ceres.

The Ceres was built at Salcombe, Devon, in 1811 for my great­grandfather, William Lewis, of Bude, Cornwall, for the Spanish-London fruit trade. He went master of her, and during the Peninsular War she was employed carrying stores to the British troops in France, under the Duke of Wellington. On the death of my great-grandfather in 1829 my grandfather, ”his only son,” not 18 years of age, went master of the Ceres, and kept her in the coasting trade until 1855, when he sold her to Captain P. M. Petherick, of Bude, who went master of her. In 1866 he was relieved by his eldest son, Captain W. W. Petherick. In 1884 he was relieved by his brother, Captain Walter Petherick, who retired from the sea in 1930 after being master of the Ceres for 46 years. I have known the Petherick family since my childhood. Finer sailors never walked a ship’s deck.

My grandfather had many souvenirs from the Ceres, including the two old flint lock pistols which his father and the mate carried to shoot Napoleon and his bodyguard if they attempted to board the Ceres; the old horn lantern that was lighted by a tallow candle, made by the crew ; the lantern, the only light, was carried at the bowsprit end when possible, to light the Ceres to glory; the old bull’s horn which was used as a foghorn; also a piece of flint and steel used to strike a light with.

This is one of a number of posts on the Ketch “Ceres”. They are presented in a random order as and when I have found, or been given, new material. If you are interested in maritime history and would like to read more, please use the Search facility on the top right-hand side if this page (‘Ceres’).  If the Search box does not appear on your current screen, then click on ‘Bill’s Boat Blog’ – (or the title of this entry, then ‘Bill’s Boat Blog’), to be taken to the correct page.