Not sailing twice

The week before last we (two dogs, two humans) went up to Deganwy and sat on the boat. We didn’t get out of the marina, but we did make a list of jobs. Maybe I should blog the list of jobs as a live document and update it as things progress?

Anyway.

We decided that the list of jobs is so large that we need to get up there early on a Saturday, work like mad, spend the night on the boat and do 4-5 hours of work the next day before coming home. It’ll be interesting to see how we all (dogs and humans) cope with spending the night aboard!

Anyway, here’s the senior crewmember:

When we were done with making lists, we went to the beach. The dogs absolute loved it. Chewie tried to catch several seagulls and wanted to go and play with some children who were swimming, Robyn did her tennis ball addiction thing and romped all over the beach.

The following Saturday I went up by myself. The intention was that this would be my first singlehanded sail.

There are three challenges with singlehanded sailing:

1. Casting off from the berth and getting out of the marina without hitting/sinking anything
2. The sailing thing
3. Coming back into the marina and picking up your berth without hitting/sinking anything.

The last time I was out on the boat with Arthur he had shown me how to change the mooring lines into springs and how to use a combination of wind, tide, the springs, and the engine/rudder to get on and off the berth.

Unexpectedly I remembered everything and successfully left the marina in one piece (the marina and Good Mood were both in one piece).

I motored up the Conwy on the side channel (not a radio reference) and out into the bay where we usually drop the anchor and have a few beers hoist the mainsail, get the genoa out, switch the engine off and go sailing.

Unfortunately the hoisting of the mainsail didn’t happen. The mainsail jammed. I know the mainsail is prone to jamming, Arthur and I have experienced this. To free it up Arthur normally takes the tiller, I get to the foot of the mast and manually ease the slugs (not actually slugs) over the mast gate where the jamming occurs.

What I hadn’t figured on, on the day in question, was the sea-state out in the bay (a bit choppy with a strong tide) and the wind (10kts gusting to 12kts). Leaving the helm of the boat to itself while I made my way to the foot of the mast and stood there freeing the jams is not something I wanted to do.

The normal singlehanded remedy would be to put the autopilot on, to hold the helm, while I made my way forward and did the unjamming stuff. Except the week before I had sent the autopilot to be serviced and checked for faults after it developed a mind of its own, when we tried to use it last time out. So the autopilot option was out.

I could have lashed the tiller into a central position which, with the engine running and engaged, would have held the boat on a set direction. Except the wind was hitting the superstructure and turning the boat into a roly (rolly?) thing, and would have adversely impacted the heading set by a lashed tiller. So I decided not to be standing at the foot of the mast, freeing the jams, while the boat tried to turn and rolled about.

Very disappointedly, I motored back down the Conwy, slowly motored into the marina, lined up on my marks and approached the berth. I didn’t get mooring right the first time; I got too close on the starboard side and lost sight of my primary mark. I put the boat into reverse, pulled right away, regrouped and had another, more successful attempt.

I suppose two out of three isn’t bad, but the whole point of a sailing yacht is to, you know, go sailing.

I’m going to sit down and write that list.