Ahoy hoy hoy.
How are we all?
I have been mainly entertaining myself by following the social media feud between Aldi and M&S over their caterpillar cakes! If you haven’t seen it, go and find it immediately!
I have also been hanging around Coquet Yacht Club with the paddleboard. We all gathered (in groups of 6 and distanced I promise) with bags of beer and food and had a paddle over to the beach. I also had a paddle up the river to Warkworth which was a lovely way to spend a Friday! I tried to tough it out at the club for drinks in the evening but it was far too cold!
In honour of our patron we had our first sail of the season the day of his funeral and held a 1 minute silence with the rest of the nation.
What a beautiful day for a sail too. I mean…I didn’t see a single Dolphin, but I did see a seal and won an Easter Egg….not that I have been given it, something tells me my Dad has taken it upon himself to save me the calories.
Saturday just gone some brave souls took on the challenge of cooking while sailing. 14 boats took part in sailing, pudding making, quizzing and tasks. Gin was delivered via RIB and everyone enjoyed apres at the Rum Shack. The winner of the bake off was Esther followed by Summer Wine and Phoebe.
Prince Philip’s visit to The Royal Northumberland Yacht Club.
Both Noreen and I were at the Dukes “do” , think I was Vice. Great guy to talk to. Noreen was tickled when the Duke asked for sugar for his tea, sugar lumps were brought (posh what), Noreen realised he didn’t have a stirring spoon, was getting up to get one, out came his glasses, still talking, stirred his tea with one arm of them then back to his top pocket. It was a well practiced maneuver so someone must keep stealing the silver at the palace.
The man over board exercise was a fun day. The sail was part of an RYA Yardmaster Course practical exam. The 4-5 students would go through various nautical bits sailing round the bay watched by instructors and graded accordingly, no doubt man overboard would be one of the drills. My part of the plan was organised by Jack Mills, he, a film camera man from Tyne Tees ( a member but I cannot remember his name) were in an accompanying RIB to theoretically film the RYA testing process.
The boat we were on was, I think, the Lowries parents boat, about 36ft. Everyone got on board, students, examiners and Lowries. It was a glorious, sunny gentle westerly wind day, so all in shorts and tee shirts. They all busied themselves in the boat trying to impress the examiners waving ropes around, muttering nautical stuff and trying to avoid being the first Captain “in charge”. I climbed on board wearing a 9mm wetsuit, a kapok life jacket, high waist sailing waterproofs and a knee length fisherman smock, a mite overdone for a potter round the bay!
Off we went with lectures by the examiners, safety, what was expected of them during the exam and what tasks they would be set. I was perched on the back pushpit and just after we passed the Bell Buoy while everyone was being nautical and busy pulling this, that and the other I quietly slipped off the back. I was about twenty meters away before anyone realised I’d gone, it was funny watching someone (Peter Stenner?) mouth working without connecting with his vocal chords and eventually getting a “man overboard” call out.
I lay there in the water pretending to be unconscious, while the boat did the classic bear away, jibe and return on a reciprocal reach.
First go at a pass, about 4 knots bearing right down on me, I had to fend off with my feet, bounced along the side of the boat and out the back.
Second go, still a bit fast but had taken some sail off, I was still being unconscious and to weather while someone viciously stabbed at me with a 12 ft brass ended boat hook with an end on suitable for harpooning whales – fell off to leeward of me – missed.
third go, managed to get the boat almost stopped and on top of me and then to leeward, again nastily attacked with the boat hook but managed to engage somewhere and unceremoniously dragged to the stern where a number of methods to get me out of the water were employed.
Dangling legs, arms, head,ropes round various bits of me, bent round stanchions, wires, bits of rigging, I was finally unceremoniously laid out on the deck where I miraculously regained consciousness, did not want CPR as most of the students were physically exhausted by now. Students then told that I hadn’t accidentally fallen off, it was an exercise to see how they coped in a real life situation, all faithfully recorded on film.
After discussions (and a beer – why did all boats have that awful MCEwans Tartan on board?) about methods, sail handling and most importantly getting the body on board we decided to do it again with a different student in charge. Again, too fast, avoiding the boat hook but second time round they got a rope round my chest and towed me to the primary winches and proceeded to winch me “up”. The boat had considerable tumbleholm, they succeeded in crushing me into the side of the boat not “up” until I advised them that my ribs were about to break, I was then man handled under the rail to another welcoming beer – i didn’t have to be unconscious this time and the students denied CPR. They had a dummy to practice on.
Third go round led to the feet towing position, too fast, too much sail but a desperate grab by someone got hold of a leg and proceeded to tow me at about three knots, leg up with my head underwater. After a few minutes, still unconscious I lifted my head and told them I was drowning then carried on drowning. After a thorough drowning, I was unceremoniously hauled under the rail to a very well received third beer.
A lot learned by everyone (put the engine on), an interesting day. Somewhere there is a 30 minute edited film showing all the exercises and a prime example of how not to do something but to prepare a drill, prepare the equipment and practice, next time the victim may not be wearing a 9mm wetsuit.
My next tale of daring to do will be “Saving HY Tyne” from sinking and the scars to prove it!
Now I know who pinched my beer at ECSW!
Regards to everyone
Stewart Emmerson
I do appologise If it was your beer, however, you snooze you loose! Lynne x
An anecdote from me
When my son, Richard, was 5 years old in 1990 he thought that the Yacht Club had been refurbished just for his 5th birthday party which was to be held on the beach followed by party tea on board HY TYNE. Of course it was all done in time for Prince Phillip’s visit as patron to open up the boatyard. On the day of the visit we went to the boatyard to greet the Royal visitor as did the then Mayor of Blyth in his official car with ceremonial flags and shining chains of office. Prince Phillip drew up in a plain limousine wearing morning suit as he had just given Alms at Newcastle Cathedral. Needless to say that Richard was much more impressed by the Blyth Mayor than a Royal Prince!!
Diane x
Cycling trip to Holland, part 2. Tony Freeth
You find us aboard DFDS making our way to Holland for an adventure of a lifetime,don’t believe a word of the sales patter.
Towards the end of day 1 and somewhere in the middle of the north sea we decided to turn in,after all it has been a long tiring ,cycling from North shields to our present position,all of 3 miles. This doesn’t bode well. We awake to one hell of a ruckus in the corridor of our baggage class cabin .It sounds like Knotts flat on a Saturday night,there’s a fight erupting and from the sounds of it its serious
(Ken you can remind me of what happened I think I was flaked out)
Day 2 bleary eyed we breakfast and prepare to disembark in Imuidem,simple to write difficult to practise. Imuden is a pretty big port with lots of traffic and large buildings giving us no sense of direction and they drive on the wrong side of the road, yes I know there are signs but they are in a foreign language. Seeing our predicament 2 giant Dutch people ask if we know what we are doing or where we are going. No and Amsterdam as first stop. ‘OK so you follow us ‘they pronounce in a typical Germanic tone. This couple are huge as are their machines,modern equivalents of the penny farthing so it seems(10p1p. In today’s money). OK we thank them and prepare to follow. Already to go, they take one turn of their pedals and they are 100yards ahead ,2nd turn of their pedals and we have lost them. Any one who knows Holland knows the Hollanders are major proponents of the bike,every one has one ,everywhere is geared up for cyclists and they have grown up from childhood as cyclists. We didn’t stand a chance.
So being sailors, incompetent crew and dubious skippers we reasoned that if the sea was to our west we couldn’t very well succeed in that direction, from early school geography lessens we knew Amsterdam must be inland,east of our present position,so putting the sea to our backs we headed inland. Joy of joy 100yds later a road sign pronounced Amsterdam some kilometres down the road. We were on our way ,its starting to bode well.
Cycling in Holland is an absolute joy,cycle lanes everywhere,flatness that doesn’t seem to deviate. cycle crossings like pedestrian crossings that favour the bike and if you have the wind behind you,oh mother of god it doesn’t get much better. We fairly flew into Amsterdam and by lunchtime under a glorious sun we are people watching,drinking superb continental coffee tucking into Dutch delights all from our table on a bridge overlooking a canal. In hindsight we shouldn’t have moved and just stayed there for the rest of the week,but hey what did we know. We weren’t to know it wouldn’t bode well.
It should be noted here that this was an ad hoc trip,I know it was discussed months in advance but as usual in the pub,need I say more. We had no plan,no idea ,no camping equipment
no real sense of purpose other than try to circumnavigate the Ijsselmeer on 2 wheels.
But what we did have was ‘The Friends of the Bike’ publication. This fabulous volume cost 6 euros and is the bible of cyclists touring Holland. Best described as the forerunner to airbnb although nothing like it. It’s a directory of lodgings, B& B for those wanting to travel light,as well as a source of boundless interesting information of the country etc. Simple to use,reach a town or village look up places to stay,ring up and make the reservation. Oh so simple Duh.
With this fail safe (ha ha) solution we set of for our first stopover. Monickendam Again an easy ride to this delightful village only to discover it was playing host to the annual Dutch sailing barge(skutsjes) regatta. The place was heaving with sailors and hangers on of this great event,so obviously we heaved and hung on. The quay side was awash with beer tents, fast food stalls, music, a camaraderie peculiar to sailors and very soon we were best mates with everyone. So much so we had forgotten about finding digs for the night,about 8pm it struck us. Making for the centre of the town where it was quieter we found a phone box and started ringing around ,the first couple of places couldn’t put us up,fully booked,then we struck gold,yes they could put us up,extremely good rates and breakfast was included,and where are you from? Tyneside we replied,’oh sorry we don’t take Geordies’ I suspect something to do with their drink problem. However with a bit of pleading and promising that we were practically practising Mormons, Quakers ,seventh day adventists and Scientologists and that we would be on our best behaviour they relented and our first night was spent here
We headed for our new found digs,introduced ourselves ever so correctly (we should have all received Oscars) we were shown to our rooms. At this point as we walked up the flight of stairs I noticed a mass and I mean a mass of small ornaments on fragile shelving hung to the stair wall. I think we all noticed this and promptly moved to the other side of the staircase. Can you imagine what a bunch of drunk Geordie s could do to this amazing spectacle? Having been allocated rooms our very kind and unsuspecting hostess showed us how to use a squeegee in the shower room,with very precise instructions especially how to store the rubber blade when we had completed the required task. It beggars belief to think what must have occurred with previous Geordies that she was so reluctant to take them in again. Now that we knew we had a place to lay our weary heads we promptly changed out of sweaty cycling gear and donned stained drinking gear and headed back to the quay to rejoin our new found saily friends and imbibe in a pint or three. I think I know what you are thinking,did we wipe the stair wall of all those trinkets, ceramics ornaments , baubles and keepsakes on our return from the party. To be continued read what happened when we did return dum de dum dum dum.
Scutsjes
Big heavy dutch barges,shallow draft with lee-boards (taken off a barn I suspect) sailed like dinghies,in the hands of traditional bargemen. on a par with AC75’s
RUBBISH
The rubbish compound is for the disposal of general waste only and it would be appreciated that it be put in one of the three blue wheelie bins provided,not left on the deck for others to do.
Glass bottles should be put in the small red bin provided. Batteries,scrap and oil most on no account be left in the compound
We will be served with a hefty fine if oil is put in the bins and the service withdrawn.
There is an oil bund near the west boatyard entrance batteries can be left near the garage for the cherry picker and tractor
Scrap should be left at the end of the red container in the boatyard.
This is your club,your rubbish so please be responsible for it.
C.C.T.V. OPERATES IN THE RUBBISH COMPOUND AND THE RECORDINGS HELD FOR AT LEAST A MONTH.
The Fastnet Diaries…Continued.
The Fastnet race day 1
Sunday morning dawned but no Harry. We were on the point of leaving without him when he appeared an hour late having had some problem with his luggage. Close shave for him. Crew boss Pippa was not pleased. The start was a bit like the round the island race with huge numbers of milling boats. Hugo Boss with Alex Thompson steering swept past, accompanying rib roaring behind. We waved. Carte Blanche of Helford, a sister Swan 36 to us, and an old friend sailed past and we all waved frantically to each other. They looked very smart with a blemish free pale blue hull. Our rating was slightly better than theirs due to genoa size but we were keen to beat them on the water. The race committee should have been transmitting on VHF but we heard not a squeak. Several boats tried to call them without success. One of the advantages of the cannons used for the start is that the smoke is easier to see than a small flag half a mile away, and we were able to get a time on the previous start of the IMOCA 60s by watching the Squadron terrace for ‘enemy fire’. The wind was straight down the Solent, about 16 to 18 knots and we hoisted the blade jib and full main. Dan called the tactics on the line, and at 1130 we had a good start in a conservative position. The tide was ebbing, and therefore with us. Pippa has become expert at navigating the Solent and took us up the strongest tidal streams off Gurnard cardinal. We kept in deep water tacking always for clear air and shot out of the Hurst narrows at 1pm. A whoop came from below. You can track the race on yellow brick racer, (we had a transmitter fixed to the pushpit for the duration of the race) and the app gives a position. We were ostensibly 2nd in our group, class 4. It was a high moment but we knew it would not last. Because the race started somewhat later relative to the tide compared with the Myth of Malham race we also knew there was no hope of getting around Portland Bill on the same tide so we opted to go out to sea in the Westerly wind that had now settled to 12-16 knots. We felt slightly underpowered in the chop and changed up to the number one genoa with benefit.
Out of the Solent we began the watch system by which we had three 4 hour watches during the day, and 4 three hour watches at night. Pippa and I took just two watches, 9 to 12 pm and 6 to 9am. That gave the other two watches a clear 6 hours rest every night while Pippa and I could rest during the day. It worked very well.
Quite a lot of the fleet tacked in to St Albans head aiming to use the last of the favourable tide. Being one of the slowest boats we did not think we would make it in time to reap the benefit and decided to keep going out to sea and only tacked late in the late evening when, half way across the channel, we threatened to enter into the Casquets shipping lanes, an absolute exclusion zone for the race. Supper was served at 730pm, Charlie Bingham’s Shepherd’s pie and a lemon tart (for pudding). Very good too.
Day2
When Pippa and I took over at 6am the next morning we were heading into Start point and would have to tack to get around it. We opted to go in close hoping to get an early tidal eddy before the tide formally changed in our favour. The wind had dropped to 10-12 knots. Did it pay? Probably not but nor did we lose out. Coming around Start point the next headland is Prawle point on the east side of the Salcombe estuary. The wind was dropping off as forecast but due to go North Westerly sometime in the afternoon. As we passed Salcombe we saw an arctic Skua chasing a gull. I had never seen a Skua this far south before but there was no doubt about the elongated swallow like tail feathers and aggressive habit. The gull quickly regurgitated her food, ‘’softy southerner gull’ said Hugo.‘
We tacked painfully slowly towards the west, swapping positions with Silver Shamrock who had followed us in close to Start point. On the AIS we could see Xara, a Swan 38, and Easy Glider, an S&S 41, sister ship to Edward Heath’s famous Morning Cloud 2. Easy Glider had undergone a major refit at Lallows yard in Cowes the previous year. She is named slightly unusually, we were told after a Dutch brand of condoms, and we had met the owners recently as fellow S&S owners. She was rated for a blade jib only and thus though larger was rated only a few per cent quicker. We were pleased to see her close but sadly that was the last we saw of her on AIS which for class B transponders has a range of no more than 6 or 7 miles. It was a slow day but at about 7pm the promised North Westerly came in and having kept to the North we were for the first time a few degrees, and it was only a few degrees, off the wind. At 730pm supper was served, Charlie Bingham’s Italian meatballs and pasta. There were no complaints. The tide had turned again in our favour at about 9pm and Pippa and I came on watch. We took her past the Lizard and a fleet of ships at anchor off Falmouth and the Helford River just before Midnight. Day 2 was coming to an end.
Day 3
We continued on Starboard tack through the night, close on the wind again, arriving off Penzance at around 7am. Decision time. There are three traffic separation zones around the Scilly Isles and Land’s End and you cannot enter them on this race. To get into the Celtic sea there are four routes but only two made any sense. One can either go North close to land’s End, or go south of the first zone and then North between it and the Scilly Isles. The tide was still running south around the tip of England but was due to change in 2-3 hours. According to the Almanac it was possible to find inshore tidal eddies that would lift one North for 2-3 hours before the change. This seemed too good an opportunity to miss. As soon as we had passed the Runnel Stone, a large semi submerged rock south of Land’s End and a mark of the course to be left to Starboard, Pippa took us as close as she dared to the rocky shore. We tacked up dodging rocks and fishing pot buoys, hoping for a massive north going eddy. It never materialised. Perhaps we were too early or perhaps not brave enough. Silver Shamrock followed us and went further in but without discernible gain. Once past the Longships lighthouse we were free from the coast and the stronger tide. Ahead on the YB tracking, available as we had mobile phone reception, we could see that Xara and Easy Glider were about 10 miles ahead and just past the separation zone.
We continued North but as we approached the top corner of the traffic separation zone we were headed and able to tack and lay the distant Fastnet rock still on the wind but heading in the right direction. The shift was a few hours before expected but very welcome. As the afternoon wore on a line of dense cumulus-nimbus cloud with a shroud of rain blotted out the horizon. Dan diplomatically reminded me of the benefits of being one side or the other of a squall. Trouble was, to tack took us 90 degrees to our desired course, and the line of cloud seemed to stretch a horribly long way north. We plugged on until it hit us. Prudent thing to have done would be to have reefed before it hit us. At first it was not too bad but before long we were registering 28 knots true on the anemometer. Our number one had done sterling service over the years but had ripped along the leech, head to toe, the year before. It had been repaired but I had fears that it would go again if pushed. I called for a change to the number three. All went well until on the hoist the tack pulled out of the shackle and the luff out of the groove. The number three set like a kite way off to leeward. As we struggled to bring it back on board I saw Silver Shamrock sailing by to leeward and going beautifully with her blade jib and a reef in the main. They were sailing two handed, one on the helm and the other sitting on the rail. It looked very efficient and calm compared to us. Control was restored and the number 3 rehoisted. The wind had backed a touch so we now tacked and scooted off to the North and within an hour all was settled again and we tacked back again making the Fastnet rock. On AIS I was pleased to see that the tack to the North had fortuitously gained us ground on Silver Shamrock and we were again ahead but not by much.
By supper time (730pm, Shepherd’s pie with apricot tart for pudding) the wind and sea were building again and we put a reef in the main. At 1am it was getting quite rough with 24 knots true and I took Pippa’s advice and put a second reef in with no loss of speed. The gunwale was still sluicing the water over the deck as we charged forward. Scopolamine patches were now being sported by most of the crew and did seem to be doing a pretty good job. Nick was the last convert the following day.
Day 4
By the early hours the wind had settled and the reefs were shaken out and number one hoisted again. We had made good progress during the night and Silver Shamrock was now 5 miles behind. At 6am Pippa and I began our morning watch. One boat was easy to see to leeward. ‘Wanted’ according to the AIS. I looked her up on the entry lists. A French Swan 41. Should be much quicker than us. Either we were doing well or they were doing badly. We assumed the former. Better for morale. By midday we were still going well but the Grib file was warning of a wind hole developing just to the east of the Fastnet rock that afternoon. We had to leave the traffic separation zone to the south of the rock, to port, so there was no way around the hole to the South and to the North was land. ‘The grib is now 36 hours old’ I said, ‘can’t be as accurate as that. Let’s not worry’. Unfortunately, it was spot on. Boats a few hours ahead made it through before the wind died and were off around the rock and heading South. My estimate had been for a rounding at 6pm. Then, as the wind lightened 8pm, and then worse. The wind had also headed us and we tacked on the shifts up the side of the traffic separation zone. Our track looks like the homeward steps of a drunk after a bad night. To the North was Clear Island and behind blue misty hills glowing gently in the late afternoon sun. A pod of dolphins played around the bow and a Minke whale was spotted close by. Chile Concarne and rice was served for supper at 730pm. Finally, at around 10pm we rounded the top and North East corner of the separation zone, headed West with wind that had freed us a little and increased in strength to 8-10 knots. There in the distance we could see the rock. A characteristic shape and the light already visible. At each turning point such as this boats seem to come out of nowhere and now we were in a small fleet of perhaps 20 yachts all visible by eye and on AIS. Silver Shamrock had done well in the afternoon and crept up on us as we tacked, now being only a mile behind and easily ahead on handicap. Darkness fell and the Fastnet light loomed ever closer. Masthead lights were all around us and at 1130pm we rounded the iconic lump of granite, giving it a suitably wide berth, and headed South. The moon was rising, a large orange orb that hung over the rock as we ran down the West side. We still had to skirt the west side of the Traffic separation zone and not being keen on a midnight gybe, only raised the spinnaker after we had gybed the main and genoa and were heading South East on port tack. The moonlight on the water painted a shimmering path ahead and cast an ethereal light on the kite. We had hoisted the heavy kite which is more stable and seemed to make good sense at night. On our port side a large yacht with a huge white asymmetric seemed to be having trouble. We could see mountainous clouds of white nylon billowing around the spreaders illuminated by the deck lights. Quite what was happening we never knew but they dropped steadily back, a ghostly silhouette wreathed in white silk.
Day 5
Overnight we made steady and good progress. During the late morning of day 4 the wind fell light. With day coming we had switched to the bigger lighter spinnaker and now we were struggling to keep it full. We rigged the light weight spinnaker sheets and after careful examination of the grib files (I now believed in every minute prediction religiously) we gybed slightly away from our intended course to find better wind. Somewhat miraculously we did. The result was we were now committed to taking the westerly route around the next traffic separation zone to the west of the Scillies. The distance was a tiny bit more but the boatspeed was better.
Supper was tinned curry and rice. Pippa spiced it up with raisins and sliced banana from our diminishing food supply. The triumphant result was cheered by all in the crew. At 9pm the oldies started their customary 9 to midnight watch and at around 11pm we gybed again (with the help of the standby watch) around the bottom corner of the separation zone having again swapped to the smaller kite for the night. Heading East past the Scillies seemed to smack of being almost home. Surely it couldn’t be long now. I quickly added up the miles from the various waypoints, the Bishop rock, the Scillies, Land’s End, the Lizard and finally Rame head and Plymouth. Far from being home we still had over a 100 miles to go. Behind us on AIS we spotted Silver Shamrock, perhaps 2 hours behind. To beat her we needed at least a 2.5 hour cushion.
Day 6
Past Bishop rock we hit a highly unpleasant tidal race that in the dark with the spinnaker bucking and slatting, felt eerie and unsettling. Another half an hour and we were in flatter water and making an easy 6 knots on a dead run. Bishop rock, slowly with the contrary tide, slid abeam and then abaft. We saw the light on St Mary’s Island but never saw the Scilly Isles, just a vague impression of a denser horizon to the North. By dawn, Hugo and Nick were on watch as we passed the southern point of the final Traffic separation zone. The visibility was poor and Land’s End and Penzance were never clearly visible. More dolphins around the bow welcomed us back to home waters. Breakfast was porridge as usual. Our next headland was the Lizard and according to all sources of tidal information available on board, almanac, pilot, Navionics charting, should give us a tidal conveyor belt until about 1130am. At eleven we reached the race off the Lizard, well off and not inshore, but the tide was undoubtedly against us. BST or UT? I checked. Definitely BST. I had forlornly hoped that the tidal lift I had anticipated would speed us past but then block Silver Shamrock. No such luck. The wind was now blowing 17 to 20 knots and Sheevra was running fast. We gybed out to avoid wind shadows near the land, and then with sufficient offing back onto the rhumb line. To seaward a Sigma 38 we had been following gybed back in. Dan and Harry competed with Nick and Hugo for the fastest surge on a wave, pumping frantically (only one per wave please). Pippa and I lay on the central saloon bunk staring back at their whooping faces as we hit 9 knots. We were now into our sixth day but it did not seem a long time punctuated as it was by headlands, tidal gates, Traffic separation zones, watch changes, meals and the wildlife. Off Falmouth there seemed to be a huge number of Manx Shearwaters gliding over the waves like small albatrosses but more cheerful, though never visibly feeding. The visibility remained poor with drizzle and mist as we finally saw the high prominence of Rame head. We gybed for the last time and on a closer reach came screaming into Plymouth sound heading for the Western end of the breakwater which marked the finishing line. 200 yards away the spinnaker guy came loose from the pole. We dumped it as quickly as we could and crossing the line received a gratifyingly loud blast of a horn from the lighthouse. Silver Shamrock came in about 2 hours later saving their time on us with ease.
We tied up to be greeted by a friend with a small crate of beer. The boat was tidied up and we decided to eat properly in a dockside restaurant. Next to us were the crew of Ushaka a Dehler Optima 101 and similarly rated to us. How did it go they asked? Second in class out of the Solent was our highpoint said Pip. We know they said and showed us a screenshot of that momentous point. Ushaka was first in class. Later we met Stuart Greenfield and his co-skipper Nathan Stefferoni from Silver Shamrock. Stuart turned out to be a big chap who had been mast man on the last America’s cup British 12 metre challenger. Nathan is a sailmaker from the Hamble. We were watching you the entire way around. It turned out that they had been doing the same. Whenever Stuart came on watch his first words, Nathan alleged, were, ‘Where’s f….g Sheevra?’. Who won, said Stuart. You did, we said. Let’s call it a draw he said. A generous man.
I hope you all enjoyed this month’s newsletter. Looking forward to sharing more sailing adventures and fun bar banter with you all.
See you all soon!
Lynne x
