Wildbird

Talk in the night

(by A.S J. Tessimond)

'Why are you sighing?'
'For all the voyages I did not make
Because the boat was small, might leak, might take
The wrong course, and the compass might be broken,
And I might have awoken
In some strange sea and heard
Strange birds crying'.

'Why are you weeping?'
'For all the unknown friends or lovers passed
Because I watched the ground or walked too fast
Or simply did not see
Or turned aside for tea
For fear an old wound stirred
From its sleeping'.

A J Tessimond

And what was this about?

I'm a sad person... even dreaming about YM stuff now.   Jung would have a field day with this one:

I'm with Snow White and a gaggle of dwarves on  one of those airport moving pavement/escalators, and the dwarves are leaping about excitedly testing me on Col. regs. "Which is the give way vessel?"  <<<giggle giggle giggle>>>.

I answer and they all hoot and say "No!  its this one, because the skipper has bare feet"

It transpires in this particular twisted version of Coll regs, people with bare feet are always the give way vessel no matter what the circumstances. I half wake up puzzling how  I'm going to tell whether the skipper on a another boat has bare feet.. and then wake up fully, laughing!

Practice, practice practice....

Bloody  brain!  I can't stop thinking about MOB manoeuvres and picking up bouys, even if I am in bed at 4am.  Susie's laughing at me drawing diagrams to work out what's going on....  (edited to add- Susie's just pointed out that this sounds like we're in bed together-- no we aren't! )

Armed with lots of tips from folks on the YBW forum, I went out sailing today with Chris (Snowleopard) and John to see if I could improve on my light wind sailing skills and to practice manoevres.    Fortunately, early morning drizzle gave way to a nice F3-4 and even some sunshine, and lovely light on the banks of Rame Head, whislt I went round in circles trying to fathom out the relationship between sailing angles, leeway, speed, etc.     Not so simple as the basic instructions- Wild Bird doesnt seem to behave quite how the books would have it - and , yes, it wasn't just me -Chris had a go too and discovered how difficult  it is to get it just spot on.  

With Chris's help, I improved on my ability to read the wind (without instruments) and  to tack in lighter winds without stopping completely and we fathomed out angles that worked (at least under these wind conditions!). But I've still not cracked how to lose way to stop at the right point without the leeway shoving us off course...

We were one of only a few yachts out (local to us just one yacht drifting and fishing and one school boat!) . But I guess all the grey funnel line boats out there today wondered what we were doing- we were plagued with DSC calls and all ships "securite" announcements from warship Manchester and other boats.

Many thanks to Chris who came out with me and was very patient, and helped me a lot. Perhaps not quite so patient as my MOB fender who was suffering from severe hypothermia by the time he was recovered for the 9th time..

Three Wild Birds

Luring Anne over from the dark side (MOBO), we set out to play in Plymouth sound yesterday. Three Wild Birds on a boat- one of very few yachts out in the sound.  Anne hadn't sailed on a boat with flappy bits before, and wanted to see what it was like (whilst avoiding Paul with a massive hangover).

The forecast was for a F5-6 from the west- sounded good for a play and practice day and to introduce Anne to sailing boaty things such as winches, tacking, gybing etc.   In reality the wind was from the NNW... and as we got out towards Cawsand, very gusty, as Susie soon found out.  

Zooming along on a starboard tack, the wind suddenly gusted from 20 up to 35knots. Alas, too much sail out...  as we stood on the side walls looking at how near the main was to the water, with crashing sounds from below, I wondered how far over we would have to go to broach. Phew- came back up again- but its the first time we've emptied the bookshelves (even given our F9 over to ireland). Susie had the "Oh Fuck" look and quickly handed the helm back to me..  all OK after a bit of reefing, although the gusty conditions were not very conducive to  MOB practice (or not without risk of losing a fender!).

Back to the Tamar to find a mooring bouy for lunch: another first for Anne - bacon and egg banjos cooked on board. Annd and Paul's MOBO does not have a cooker, it transpires.  Then for practice of sailing onto bouys.  Partially succesful- but the gusty conditions made perfect arrivals rather a haphazard affair!  Not sure if I'm supposed to be able to do it when the wind changes by 100% in strength and by 20% in direction when on the approach run.  More practice needed.

Phew

Its official- Bob tells me that I can do a partial retake, rather than have to do the whole exam again.  Just need to get my act together sailing onto bouys, pontoons and MOBs

The end!

HURRAH!!!  the day has finally arrived. Radiotherapy  now finished, and no more treatments planned at the moment.

I aso had an unexpected foot massage from a very nice male therapist (complete with mild erotic fantasies (hope he's not reading this!)) at the Mustard tree Macmillan centre whilst Iwas waiting for my turn for the final top up the glow in the dark boob.

My hair is growing back, the sun is shining, and my YM examiner is about to visit to discuss how to remedy the cock up I made last week on my YM exam... all is looking good! All I need now is two fit men.....

.... to come and sail with me a couple of times over the next few days or so to practice sailing onto bouys etc., so I can finish off my Ym exam....

The exam- losing the plot!

Bob turns up at 2.00pm, and sits and briefs us.  He's going to run the exam all the way through the night.. arghhhh. There is no way I'm going to survive this - I'd never do this as a skipper- we'd have watches etc.   

We have to work on the assumption that we have no engine: "this is a sailing boat after all". Its fast and furious...  Richard takes us out of the berth (he's allowed to use the engine for that at least!) and is asked to take her out to an anchorage at a specific point at Cawsand- but then Bob decides that its up the Tamar to put her on the crooked spaniard moorings. Much tacking... then another change-sail onto the pontoon near saltash bridge, where I'm tasked with taking her off the pontoon, and Peter is quickly prepares a pilotage plan to take her down to dandy hole (no instruments other than depth) and anchor in the deepest part of the pool.  I've to do the pilotage on the way back, and then Richard has to put her on a bouy (or I think that's how it went??)- soemthing in between as well. And then down towards cattewater  with MOB and other things thrown in.

All is becoming a blur- I'm exhausted after the week's sailing and can't think. I'll draw a veil over my pontoon departure - I was completly bemused by what seemed to be a fast running current (not shown on adjacent boats)- I'd forgotten to spot that Richard had left her in reverse gear when he switched the engine off. To make it worse, I rigged he up wrongly...  well I'm not going to say more. I plead temporary insanity.

The night progresses-- variously we do tasks and work-  The wind is virtually non existent, so everything seems like slow motion and much more difficult. I manage a rather scrappy sail onto a bouy (wind against tide which we haven't practised, so I'm guessing how to do it under genoa), Peter takes us over to the Yealm.  Bob gets completely exasperated by our buoy picking up techniques and gives us an impromptu lesson on lassoing.  Richard has "fun" trying to identify sector lights on the way back (at least I can help him on this one!), and I lose the MOB equipment off drakes island, being singularly unable to get wild bird back to pick it up in the 4-8knots of wind we now have.    I have lost the plot completely by now.

Bob suggests we suspend the exam as the wind isn't really strong enough to do all this stuff.   I would be very happy to do it, as I'm beyond any reason or sensibility by now. I'm turning into a blubbering wreck.  Think Ellen MacArthur on the Vendee globe...  ...It may seem invidious to compare my experiences in Plymouth sound on a windless night with the extremes of the southern ocean, but like Ellen I had exhausted all my reserves. She is fit and young- I am 50something, totally unfit and recovering from 9 months of cancer treatment. Net result is the same: exhaustion.   Ellen puts it very well: "You are not crying because you're upset, you're crying because there's absolutely nothing left inside you any more, and the only thing that your body can do is release some of that energy by crying. And that's not because you're upset, it's your body's physical reaction to being lower than low."

 Whilst we discuss the options, the wind just  increases a tad, so Bob decides to carry on. I decide I've had enough, and will just crew for the others whilst they make the most of what little wind we have and complete their exams.

Needless to say I didn't pass.. but not quite sure what I did. Bob tells me he'll talk to me in the week.