On Sailing a Folksong – Thank you

/ Bill / 1 Comment

There are blogs written by those who are complete experts at designing, building and repairing their own boats with no other help than a forbearing partner and a seemingly infinite amount of time. I am not one of these.

~~~

In 2006, I bought a boat. It was the boat I had wanted for most of my life but never had the opportunity to own before. It took a little time to confirm what was right with it . . . and a little longer to find out all that was wrong with it. Fortunately, what was right outshone what was wrong.

That first season was good fun. We sailed a lot, even making a passage to Fowey and back. Unfortunately, there were some problems and I began to think of ways to fix them – and then ways to improve her, and so my ambition grew – (”What is possible? We are not trying to restore a classic boat to its original state. It’s not a wooden boat. Let’s see what modern materials can achieve”).  One thing was for sure: whatever I wanted done on the boat would be way beyond my then knowledge and still current skills. So I began to look for someone to help me.

Specifically, I wanted someone who would listen to what I wanted to do . . . and would recognise when I was being unrealistic and say so – and be prepared to come up with an alternative. Over the years, I have learnt how independent boat owners are . . .  and how proud of their boats, sometimes excessively so. It takes a diplomat to handle them.

During that summer, following an unfortunate incident with a crossed battery cable, we were in Plymouth Yacht Haven sorting it out. While trying to hide my embarrassment at the earlier mistake, I was explaining to Pete from Marine Systems what I wanted to do with Blue Mistress. He said, pointing to the Hangar across from the marina, ‘why don’t you try DickyB over there’.

A while later, Richard Banks sat in the cabin and looked around while I told him what I was wanting to do and how far back we would have to go before we could move forward – and there was no way of my affording the work in one leap.

I liked him immediately. He caught on to what I was saying, cut through the c**p and we began to work out what might be needed to start the project off. (Yes, I know I was a potential client so you would expect him to be enthusiastic, but there are ways and ways of handling clients – I liked his style).

And so the relationship with Dicky B Marine began. There have been three periods in the Hangar at Mount Batten. Each time, Blue Mistress has been returned to the water greatly improved. On the last occasion, she was a new boat.

~~~

Throughout, Richard has been excellent. I often arrived unannounced and, despite other work  on other boats, been enthusiastically shown what had been done and what was proposed. If I was in the way,  he and everyone else had the courtesy to keep it till I left! I took pictures of everything. I have sent strings of emails and attachments with ideas and changes. Believe me, it’s not the boat, it’s the owner!

It’s a team, of course. In this, our last session, Robin Leach’s skilled carpentry and work below decks have been especially appreciated – I haven’t forgotten the twenty locker lids laid out to paint.

He also made the smart  new tiller, one that no longer catches the lazarette locker lids.

At the same time, the stainless steel fittings were made in their workshop by Dave Willey. Andy Wilson worked on her too. That was another reason for choosing this firm. They have several strings to their bow.

And there was Pete Brian of Marine Systems – he of the original referral, who did the electrical work, Neil Gledhill of Hemisphere Rigging Services and the haulout crew of Plymouth Yacht Haven.

In a little under three years, we have gone from this:

2007

to this:

2009

From this:

2006

to this:

2009

From this:

Torpoint 2006

to this:

Oreston 2009

The Folksong hull was originally built for the DIY market. Blue Mistress was launched in 1988. She has changed owners two or three times since. Each one had their own ideas. Everyone brings their own personality to a boat. I don’t suppose any two people would agree on what the “correct” solution should be.

Well, this owner is older with a demanding day job, and with not so many tides ahead of him. He has enjoyed sharing the boat with the  surprisingly large number of people who have worked on her. (In a recession that can’t be a bad thing).

And he’s not finished yet. Over the next few years her intends to enjoy Blue Mistress, work on her and sail her as much as possible.

Thanks, Guys.

On Sailing a Folksong – back to the beginning

/ Bill

“Experience is not what happens to you, it’s what you do with what happens to you” – Aldous Huxley.

~~~

Well. it’s happened, as it was bound to. Having spent the past three years focusing on doing Blue Mistress up, all the feelings about it have changed. It’s as though, having reached the top of the junior school, we are now moving on to bottom of the senior school – from the top of one learning curve to the bottom of the next.

I “celebrated” this by arriving back at the mooring on Friday to find the engine and the inside of the engine housing covered in oil. More on that later.

~~~

Is the boat finished? No, but we have reached a level where I can enjoy doing all those small jobs that I haven’t been able to do up to now. It’s no longer a ‘this-is-what-it”ll-be-like-one-day’ dream. I am no longer letting jobs ride “because I will sort that out later when such-and-such has been done”.

Looking back over the past three years, there are, broadly speaking, four areas of owning a boat that I have been learning about. Although the headings were originally applied in a different context, they can be loosely described as:  health, comfort, function and appearance.

Health: The fundamental integrity of the hull and rigging. We had some major leaks to fix in the deck. But none in the hull itself. The rudder caused concern. Some of the rigging needed updating. The sails were ok. And, up to last Friday, the engine had given no trouble.

Comfort: Safety: I have gathered together the basic safety features (including learning how to stay on board). There are one or two extras still to go – that’ll be more money out. We can find out where we are –  there are no less than three different gps systems available – and now a chart table to lay out a chart on. The head is satisfactory. The galley works nicely too – we can boil a kettle quickly, cook up some soup or anything else should we feel inclined. Stowage has improved.

Function: This is where we go back to being bottom of the school. Experience up to now has been one of getting to know a boat as she was updated. What seemed like big adventures last year and the year before, seem like small ones now. Certainly the investment of time, energy and money require more use of Blue Mistress and I hope for plenty of sailing this year and next.

Appearance: Get form and function together and any boat is almost bound to look good – well, almost. I thought the appearance was good to start with, but it has got better as different problems and improvements have been tackled.

~~~

And the engine?

On Saturday, in light winds, we had a gentle sail to a couple of miles off the Mewstone. In the early afternoon, we watched Rame Head, then Cawsand, then the Breakwater disappear as a line of fog/low cloud drifted along the coast. We decided enough was enough and motored back to the mooring.

I asked Pete to close the seacock for the seawater coolant. He said he got oil on his hand doing it. I said that was not possible. We opened the lid of the engine housing . . .

We looked at it, and we looked at each other. We both knew we had no idea what had happened or how bad it might be.  We decided the engine was still too hot to work on. Silently, we closed the lid, rowed ashore and drove home.

Yesterday, I spent several hours upside down with my head in the bilge. The cause should have been immediately obvious, but it took me a while to find it because I wasn’t expecting it. Embarrassingly, it turned out to be a schoolboy error on my part. In my hurry to check the oil, I thought I had replaced the dip-stick correctly – but hadn’t. In my defence, the dip-stick is fairly long, the hole is flush with the casing and invisible from the front of the engine. It’s easily missed and the stick slides tightly alongside the engine casing – but that’s no excuse . . .

And now we have learnt a thing or two:

Do you know where oil goes if you leave the dip-stick out? . . . everywhere!

It completely coats the inside of your new engine housing (and I mean completely). It completely covers the engine (and I mean completely) – all those little screws and bolts and inaccessible corners where dirt builds up, between all those cables that have been cable-tied together, behind the engine where you have to do impossible contortions to reach  – and, of course, into the bilge.

I now know the outside of the engine intimately. I know how good the heavy duty oil remover is. I also know that, if you lay an oil-soak mat in the bilge, and settle back for lunch, by the time you have finished it will, remarkably, have soaked up most of the oil. I also found a short stainless steel strop that went missing during our first major refit two years ago. The bilge is the cleanest it has been for some years.

Luckily, not all the oil came out  – what was left came just above the minimum mark, and the engine (a Yanmar 1GM10) still runs remarkably smoothly.

Just as, when driving, I am constantly checking my rear view mirror because, thirty years ago, someone ran into the back of my car, I will never rush to check the oil again. I shall replace this particular dip-stick very, very carefully.

That’s experience.

A World Of His Own

/ Bill / 4 Comments

On 22nd April 1969, a third year student in London, I watched Robin Knox-Johnson return to Falmouth on television.

His feat made a lasting impression. Like Sir Francis Chichester, he represented a spirit of adventure born of individual skill and personal endeavour. The essence of the achievement? No large back-up team, no communication for much of the voyage, no modern navigational aids – one man running with the elements, (and often against them).

Nowadays, it is difficult to describe his achievement without dropping into the world of spin and hype. They have stolen all the superlatives. Too much has been attributed too often to lesser deeds.You have to read his story in his own words to understand the man and the task.

And, for the rest of us, whatever our sailing ambition, he will be one who went before.

Are there words that sign-post what he did that may work for us now?

Napoleon Hill showed a feel for it early last century when he wrote:

“Whatever you want, oh discontented man, step up. Pay the price – and take it.”

Sir Robin stepped up, paid the price with perseverance and stamina and took his prize – the first to sail non-stop solo round the world.

Because he showed the trip was possible, others have followed with increasing confidence  – as well as with many, many more technical aids, and achieved successes of their own

Now, forty years on, general expectations are such that completing a solo navigation goes largely unmentioned – you have to be a record-breaker (or fail spectacularly) to get noticed.

But remember this: taking the prize may be the headline, but it’s the stepping-up and paying the price that’s the real challenge. And that’s the Knox-Johnson legacy.

All power to him this anniversary.

(Follow the links to see what others think – start here or here)

On sailing a Folksong – update

/ Bill

“Looks like a new boat” said the man in the marina who kindly walked me out of the berth.

Indeed, she does. Blue Mistress has finally become the boat I thought I glimpsed the first time I saw her four years ago almost to the day. Ever since that moment, I have been working towards this.

What she has become has more to do with ownership than anything specific. Instead of coping with someone else’s ideas, (however good they may have been), it comes down to owning a boat where all the positives and all the negatives are now the product of my own collaborations and my own final decisions. I guess everyone who sails a boat for any length of time will know what I mean.

For example, it could be because I am sitting at my new chart table, notebook open, pencil at the ready, able to make notes whenever I choose.

It could equally be because the galley has been cleaned up and I’ve bought a smaller kettle which comes to the boil more quickly.

Or that the loo facilities have been thought through properly and, suitably primed, are now satisfactory.

Or the new feel of spaciousness thanks to Robin Leach’s excellent finish to the repainting and retrimming.

Perhaps it’s because I have rethought the locker stowage so that more gear is to hand – gear that, in the past, had been ‘put away’ to be sorted out later.

It could be that, sitting here, with this excellent cup of tea, listening to Handel on the radio and watching people enjoy their Sunday on the water, I am mesmerised by the reflection of the sunlight on the water. In a boat with low freeboard you feel closer to the water- if you write about the sea, you are writing closer to the source!

It could also be that the rudder and tiller that have been bothering me for so long have been dealt with for the time being and I have the enjoyable prospect of sea trials ahead.

It’s all these things, of course, but, above all, it is the knowledge that every time I come aboard I won’t be looking around seeing all these jobs to do – jobs that in no way did I have the skills to complete to this standard. This bulk of unfinished business was getting in the way.

At my age, I have, in Jon Wainwright’s words, “only so many tides” to catch.

Blue Mistress now fits – and I feel freer to catch those tides.

~~~

This was my first post written on the boat – albeit with notebook and pencil to be copied later. I hadn’t realised how deep my ambition has been to do this comfortably.

No, I didn’t buy the boat to have a table to write at. I bought the boat to be able to sail. Writing about it has come out of owning it and given me the chance to find ways forward.

I shall continue to post. I wonder if my emphasis will change.

Stick at it, Bill

/ Bill

My namesake in his blog Knockabout Sloops says

“One of the things that I have noticed about in writing, and ranting, about my sailing ideals is how pointless it all seems. I seem to be championing an ideal of engineless sailing and beauty that is long gone. Buried in a sea of plastic, diesel and electronics. What I know is that the effort on my part takes time and energy and is seldom well received. So I have decided to stop ranting on Knockabout Sloops.”

I hope he doesn’t stop championing the ideal of engineless sailing and beauty. If he feels he is not well received then so be it – that goes with the territory.

For myself, I read his blog with envy and admiration. The boats he shows us are indeed beautiful. If he, in his conviction, doesn’t present them, who will?

However much I would like to, I could never live up to his ideal. For many reasons, I chose another way. There are plastic and diesel and electronics in my boat. And there is also the beauty that I appreciate. It comes in those moments when I am not using the diesel, or the electronics – the plastic just happens to be the form I choose to cross the water in.

For me, the real beauty is not the shape of the boat or the material it’s made of,  but the motion through the water under sail. And some shapes and some materials do it better than others – form and function matter.

In trying to accommodate the common denominators of comfort, convenience and profitable production lines, the majority has chosen a different path. Maybe they will come back in time – probably not. But that’s no reason to stop championing an ideal.

There are thousands of miles between us, Bill, but we share the same water.

And there are more ways than one to get your message across.  Stick at it.

Book sailing: coincidence

/ Bill / 1 Comment

Furthering my interest in local craft (For love of a boat), I have been researching Greek inshore fishing boats. I contacted the library at the National Maritime Museum Cornwall and Denise Davey, one of the library volunteers, took up my request and was extremely helpful.

She came back with scanned copies of one of the appendices to H.R.Denham’s “The Aegean” – Inshore Craft. Here is one of the illustrations.

You will instantly recognise the hull shape from images in earlier posts to this blog.

This and more arrived earlier this week. I am very grateful to the NMMC. I had not heard of Denham’s book. I wondered when it was written, meaning to look it up on Google.

~~~

This evening I have been reading Hammond Innes’ “Sea and Islands”. published in 1967. Hammond Innes was one of the earliest authors I read – well before James Bond. In retrospect, I found his stories far more exciting, if less fashionable, than Ian Fleming’s.

The book was hidden on a shelf in my favourite used-book shop – Books by the Sea in Bude, Cornwall. Apart from the author and the subject, I was bowled over by the dated dust jacket. A whole different era.

In “Sea and Islands”, Innes describes various voyages in his Robert Clark designed, 42 foot, masthead cruiser-racer ‘Mary Deare’. He describes being dismasted in the RORC’s  North Sea Race; a cruise ‘rockhopping’ in Scandinavia and then taking the boat to the Mediterranean and exploring the Greek Islands.

It is when he starts to describe the islands and the sea between them that the book comes alive. I am only half way through the book but the islands themselves have brought life to it.

That’s not all: “Apart for the Mediterranean Pilot Vol. IV, our Bible throughout was Henry Denham’s “The Aegean”. This sea guide to the coasts and islands of Greece was most conveniently published the previous year (1963), and knowing that I was bound for his previous happy hunting ground, the author has kindly sent me a copy. It is the perfect introduction to island landfalls, for it not only gives the port information necessary before sailing in, but also geographical and historical details in conveniently concise form.”

So now I know. I must get hold of a copy.

On sailing a Folksong – update

/ Bill

Blue Mistress has twenty lockers with removable lids, twelve of them in the bunks. Laid out across a worktop and painted white, the lids looked surreal – bright islands in a dark sea.

There is a new folding lid across the stove as well as one above the portable loo. (Before, both these lids were a little tight to remove. There was a trick to it –  meaning that I could manage them fine because I knew how to do it, but the occasional crew didn’t. Therefore, they found the loo difficult to use . . . and said so.)

The varnished trim around the bunks has been matched along both sides, but is yet to be fitted.

The chart table has been revamped.  The old one was slightly too big to keep shipped all the time, although it was a very good dining table. Unfortunately, it also had a split in it. So it has been shortened, reworked with fiddles and, although still removable, will be fitted securely across-ships.

There is a concern that giving. the main cabin an eggshell white finish makes it look clinical. Well, not with all the gear I put in it it won’t! At the moment it looks stark but the cushions and trim will soften it. It’s a boat with a parlour in it, not a parlour with a boat around it.

But it is a boat of just under 26 foot with less than five foot headroom in the main cabin. We are not talking ‘large yacht’ we are talking ‘making a small space as comfortable as possible in circumstances that can be quite uncomfortable’.

Therefore, the art of stowage is magnified here. I have only a hazy idea how the long distance voyagers manage their stowage in boats of this size. A lot of gear must be piled on spare bunks, every nook and cranny filled. Single-handed, it must be tight; two of you must be very tight.

Stowage is not a static art – hiding things away in the bowels of the boat. It’s a dynamic art. Everything has to be accessible, able to be reached when needed and moved to wherever it’s used – sometimes in a hurry.  It’s about lockers that open easily (but not too easily in a sea). It’s about knowing where everything is, and having an instinctive ability to move around the boat to reach it.

It’s about establishing regular habits to be able to give measured responses to irregular events.

It’s about seamanship – handling yourself, handling the boat, handling the gear.

~~~

This week, I have noticed a sea-change in my thinking.

For the past four years, I have been concerned about the fabric of the boat – “should we do this or that, change this or that, keep this or that the same, or what?”  Each year, I have concentrated on one part of it. Each year I have taken countless images and studied them for this or that reason. I have sometimes followed outside advice, and sometimes followed my own intuition  and, with the help of Richard Banks at DickyB Marine, we have progressed.

There’s plenty still to do – it’s a boat, there’s always plenty to do . . . and even more to learn.

But the major work is over. From now on, “it is what it is – get on with it”.

I am looking to get Blue Mistress  back in the water and go sailing.