I had finished tidying up some loose wiring on my Corribee ‘Trivial Pursuit’ when the sky started to clear and the sun came out. Coaxing the outboard to start and slipping the lines didn’t take long and we were off, sailing the Holy Loch in a nice force two. This sort of sailing is something I love and soon I was deep in a trance, mesmerized by the chuckle of wavelets on the hull and the flicker of sun on water. After a while I noticed how long it was taking reaching the Clyde and the Strone point buoy. I was sailing very badly! On my other boat, a twenty-eight foot Twister class, the genoa has tell-tales. On ‘Trivial Pursuit’ we have none. I was reading the waves (wavelets really) made by the now force three into which we were sailing. This should have been sufficient yet I was making a mess of it. I have sailed since 1973, owned eight boats and done thousands of sea miles and I was making a monumental spheroid of sailing a twenty-one foot junk-rig boat up the loch in a flat sea! Check the rig: Sail fully hoisted and sheeted just outboard of the rail. Yard-hauling-parrel pulled in, Luff-hauling-parrel pulled in, all as they should be. My boat was trying to tell me something? While I fiddled with ropes and gazed aloft to spy any anomalies I had of course let go the tiller. Do that on a conventionally rigged boat and she will gently turn to windward and stop, sails flapping. Not ‘Trivial Pursuit’. We were still under way, not stopped or going in the wrong direction. In fact she was making her way upwind better on her own than with me pulling rank and steering. This was fascinating and worth study. She hunted the wind a little, bearing away a fraction, then luffing slightly but not losing speed and obviously much closer to the wind than I had steered. She ignored the waves and hunted the wind. A master class in how to do it! Drat, I had taken the kettle to the other boat so could not make tea while my little Corribee got on with it. (memo to self: Don’t fall overboard, she will not stop for you!)
Friday, 30 October 2015
Master Class
Master Class
I had finished tidying up some loose wiring on my Corribee ‘Trivial Pursuit’ when the sky started to clear and the sun came out. Coaxing the outboard to start and slipping the lines didn’t take long and we were off, sailing the Holy Loch in a nice force two. This sort of sailing is something I love and soon I was deep in a trance, mesmerized by the chuckle of wavelets on the hull and the flicker of sun on water. After a while I noticed how long it was taking reaching the Clyde and the Strone point buoy. I was sailing very badly! On my other boat, a twenty-eight foot Twister class, the genoa has tell-tales. On ‘Trivial Pursuit’ we have none. I was reading the waves (wavelets really) made by the now force three into which we were sailing. This should have been sufficient yet I was making a mess of it. I have sailed since 1973, owned eight boats and done thousands of sea miles and I was making a monumental spheroid of sailing a twenty-one foot junk-rig boat up the loch in a flat sea! Check the rig: Sail fully hoisted and sheeted just outboard of the rail. Yard-hauling-parrel pulled in, Luff-hauling-parrel pulled in, all as they should be. My boat was trying to tell me something? While I fiddled with ropes and gazed aloft to spy any anomalies I had of course let go the tiller. Do that on a conventionally rigged boat and she will gently turn to windward and stop, sails flapping. Not ‘Trivial Pursuit’. We were still under way, not stopped or going in the wrong direction. In fact she was making her way upwind better on her own than with me pulling rank and steering. This was fascinating and worth study. She hunted the wind a little, bearing away a fraction, then luffing slightly but not losing speed and obviously much closer to the wind than I had steered. She ignored the waves and hunted the wind. A master class in how to do it! Drat, I had taken the kettle to the other boat so could not make tea while my little Corribee got on with it. (memo to self: Don’t fall overboard, she will not stop for you!)
I had finished tidying up some loose wiring on my Corribee ‘Trivial Pursuit’ when the sky started to clear and the sun came out. Coaxing the outboard to start and slipping the lines didn’t take long and we were off, sailing the Holy Loch in a nice force two. This sort of sailing is something I love and soon I was deep in a trance, mesmerized by the chuckle of wavelets on the hull and the flicker of sun on water. After a while I noticed how long it was taking reaching the Clyde and the Strone point buoy. I was sailing very badly! On my other boat, a twenty-eight foot Twister class, the genoa has tell-tales. On ‘Trivial Pursuit’ we have none. I was reading the waves (wavelets really) made by the now force three into which we were sailing. This should have been sufficient yet I was making a mess of it. I have sailed since 1973, owned eight boats and done thousands of sea miles and I was making a monumental spheroid of sailing a twenty-one foot junk-rig boat up the loch in a flat sea! Check the rig: Sail fully hoisted and sheeted just outboard of the rail. Yard-hauling-parrel pulled in, Luff-hauling-parrel pulled in, all as they should be. My boat was trying to tell me something? While I fiddled with ropes and gazed aloft to spy any anomalies I had of course let go the tiller. Do that on a conventionally rigged boat and she will gently turn to windward and stop, sails flapping. Not ‘Trivial Pursuit’. We were still under way, not stopped or going in the wrong direction. In fact she was making her way upwind better on her own than with me pulling rank and steering. This was fascinating and worth study. She hunted the wind a little, bearing away a fraction, then luffing slightly but not losing speed and obviously much closer to the wind than I had steered. She ignored the waves and hunted the wind. A master class in how to do it! Drat, I had taken the kettle to the other boat so could not make tea while my little Corribee got on with it. (memo to self: Don’t fall overboard, she will not stop for you!)
Saturday, 17 October 2015
Mist and Sun
Mist and sun
Today is the 17th of October. A day of mist and sun but little wind. It takes only a moment to ready my little Corribee ‘Trivial Pursuit’, slip the lines and we are off. An irregular strip of mist clings to the woods crowning the steep hills of the loch’s north bank. The houses lining the road at their foot glow in the autumn sun. The sky with it’s miserly dotting of puffball clouds is a deep intense blue. I’m freezing! Even a full offshore sailing kit with hat and gloves, plus a serious beard, cannot block the wind chill. But we don’t care! My little boat and me are having a great old time. I ease my bulk to the lea inducing extra heel and the force-two chuckles us along. It is the sort of day where one breaths slowly, savouring the air like chilled summer wine. The land sounds are faint like friendly insects. We are alone on the water. The sea and sky and the wind belong to us.
Today is the 17th of October. A day of mist and sun but little wind. It takes only a moment to ready my little Corribee ‘Trivial Pursuit’, slip the lines and we are off. An irregular strip of mist clings to the woods crowning the steep hills of the loch’s north bank. The houses lining the road at their foot glow in the autumn sun. The sky with it’s miserly dotting of puffball clouds is a deep intense blue. I’m freezing! Even a full offshore sailing kit with hat and gloves, plus a serious beard, cannot block the wind chill. But we don’t care! My little boat and me are having a great old time. I ease my bulk to the lea inducing extra heel and the force-two chuckles us along. It is the sort of day where one breaths slowly, savouring the air like chilled summer wine. The land sounds are faint like friendly insects. We are alone on the water. The sea and sky and the wind belong to us.
Tuesday, 6 October 2015
Things to remember
Things to remember
When getting my little Corribee ‘Trivial Pursuit’ ready to set off for another ‘interesting’ adventure I have to check many things including the outboard motor which today refused to start. I have rejected my first idea that the problem was caused by strait-forward jealousy on the part of the motor because I had arrived this afternoon with a pair of eight foot oars and an intention to test their effectiveness? Anyhow, the dratted thing would not listen to my sweet words. About Oars: Years ago my Spanish friend and crew objected to the word Oars and said we should call them Rows as we rowed with them. (We didn’t oar with them did we?) After a reasonably long interval of heaving on the starting cord, fiddling with the choke, fuel and throttle, I gave up and went looking for a mechanic. (we are blessed at Holy Loch, not only do we have good mechanics they are quite often around when you need them!) It is always a pleasure watching a man who knows what he is doing and soon the culprit was located. There is a thing called a ’Kill cord’ which, when attached to you, will pull out and stop the motor if you fall overboard. It has a distorted ’Y’ shape on one end and a metal clip on the other. Connecting them is a red twisted cord, a bit like those long ones we had on phones before Mobiles were invented. The trouble with some Kill Cords is that they are too short so most people just clip them to a handy stanchion like me! Now there are two ‘Y’ things on my Kill Cord. The correct size and a larger one that’s loose enough to kill the motor without falling off. Guess which one I was using?
When getting my little Corribee ‘Trivial Pursuit’ ready to set off for another ‘interesting’ adventure I have to check many things including the outboard motor which today refused to start. I have rejected my first idea that the problem was caused by strait-forward jealousy on the part of the motor because I had arrived this afternoon with a pair of eight foot oars and an intention to test their effectiveness? Anyhow, the dratted thing would not listen to my sweet words. About Oars: Years ago my Spanish friend and crew objected to the word Oars and said we should call them Rows as we rowed with them. (We didn’t oar with them did we?) After a reasonably long interval of heaving on the starting cord, fiddling with the choke, fuel and throttle, I gave up and went looking for a mechanic. (we are blessed at Holy Loch, not only do we have good mechanics they are quite often around when you need them!) It is always a pleasure watching a man who knows what he is doing and soon the culprit was located. There is a thing called a ’Kill cord’ which, when attached to you, will pull out and stop the motor if you fall overboard. It has a distorted ’Y’ shape on one end and a metal clip on the other. Connecting them is a red twisted cord, a bit like those long ones we had on phones before Mobiles were invented. The trouble with some Kill Cords is that they are too short so most people just clip them to a handy stanchion like me! Now there are two ‘Y’ things on my Kill Cord. The correct size and a larger one that’s loose enough to kill the motor without falling off. Guess which one I was using?
Sunday, 20 September 2015
Cover Up
Cover up
My little Corribee ‘Trivial Pursuit’ needs a sail cover. The ultra-violet element of sunlight has a bad effect on synthetic sail-cloth and I have already patched her sail rather too much. (the gorgeous terracotta sail has a rash of bright red zits!) Some of the trouble is caused by battens chafing when the sail is reefed or dropped to form the romantically named ‘Bundle’, hence the sail cover thingy!
Now when I purchased TP back in early August the previous owner told me there was a cover but it was too small. I tried it and it seemed he was correct. So after a couple of all-in wrestling matches (which I lost) I stuck the uncooperative thing back in the stern locker.
Today the high pressure is fading, as is the memory of sun-glimmer on tranquil waters and rich blue skies and so I had a one-last-go at fitting the cover.
One thing the Junk Rig teaches me is that you must do things in the correct order. OK it’s easy to reef, hoist and trim, but forming a neat Bundle that is an art. Now at last I think I’ve got it!
Buoyed up with hope and copious amounts of string (an essential on a JR boat) I hauled the ‘Thing’ out of its den.
What I had deduced was that it wasn’t too small at all, it was the bundle which needed to swing back and line up the mast with the appropriate opening in the sail cover. (by now perceptive readers will have figured out that I’m stupid!) Only a quarter of an hour later, pushing and pulling, with the application of string and very little blood (blood doesn’t show on a terracotta sail!) and the job was done. Then it started to rain.
My little Corribee ‘Trivial Pursuit’ needs a sail cover. The ultra-violet element of sunlight has a bad effect on synthetic sail-cloth and I have already patched her sail rather too much. (the gorgeous terracotta sail has a rash of bright red zits!) Some of the trouble is caused by battens chafing when the sail is reefed or dropped to form the romantically named ‘Bundle’, hence the sail cover thingy!
Now when I purchased TP back in early August the previous owner told me there was a cover but it was too small. I tried it and it seemed he was correct. So after a couple of all-in wrestling matches (which I lost) I stuck the uncooperative thing back in the stern locker.
Today the high pressure is fading, as is the memory of sun-glimmer on tranquil waters and rich blue skies and so I had a one-last-go at fitting the cover.
One thing the Junk Rig teaches me is that you must do things in the correct order. OK it’s easy to reef, hoist and trim, but forming a neat Bundle that is an art. Now at last I think I’ve got it!
Buoyed up with hope and copious amounts of string (an essential on a JR boat) I hauled the ‘Thing’ out of its den.
What I had deduced was that it wasn’t too small at all, it was the bundle which needed to swing back and line up the mast with the appropriate opening in the sail cover. (by now perceptive readers will have figured out that I’m stupid!) Only a quarter of an hour later, pushing and pulling, with the application of string and very little blood (blood doesn’t show on a terracotta sail!) and the job was done. Then it started to rain.
Wednesday, 16 September 2015
Going to Windward
Windward dreams
Today I determined to find out how well my Corribee ‘Trivial Pursuit’ sails to windward. It is the conventional wisdom that “Junks cannot sail to windward” I have done a lot of sea miles since 1973, both coastal and offshore, using the ubiquitous white triangular sails that these days are regarded as normal. My three Trimarans tacked in 90 degrees (ok one of them was nearer 100?) but that never stopped me getting to exotic destinations! My monohulls were a lot better, (well not the Gaff Cutter) but unfortunately I never made a careful note of exactly how much better. So today we did take notes. It was a fine bright day with blue sky and cumulous clouds and the waters of the Holy Loch were stippled with a F2 fading at times to a F1. I wrote down the compass heading as soon as the boat had settled down on each new tack.
Here are the results.
70 then 150 degrees 90 then 160 degrees 80 then 170 degrees 75 then 145 degrees 70 then 150 degrees. Wow! I’m itching to try in stronger winds as I think she will not be as close winded, though I have sailed in a F3 with about the same results. (didn’t write them down, Drat!)
Well that proves it, Junks are such rubbish to windward!
Today I determined to find out how well my Corribee ‘Trivial Pursuit’ sails to windward. It is the conventional wisdom that “Junks cannot sail to windward” I have done a lot of sea miles since 1973, both coastal and offshore, using the ubiquitous white triangular sails that these days are regarded as normal. My three Trimarans tacked in 90 degrees (ok one of them was nearer 100?) but that never stopped me getting to exotic destinations! My monohulls were a lot better, (well not the Gaff Cutter) but unfortunately I never made a careful note of exactly how much better. So today we did take notes. It was a fine bright day with blue sky and cumulous clouds and the waters of the Holy Loch were stippled with a F2 fading at times to a F1. I wrote down the compass heading as soon as the boat had settled down on each new tack.
Here are the results.
70 then 150 degrees 90 then 160 degrees 80 then 170 degrees 75 then 145 degrees 70 then 150 degrees. Wow! I’m itching to try in stronger winds as I think she will not be as close winded, though I have sailed in a F3 with about the same results. (didn’t write them down, Drat!)
Well that proves it, Junks are such rubbish to windward!
Saturday, 12 September 2015
Gentle Rain
Gentle Rain and Sea trials
Keeping the water, on which we are floating, out of the little Corribee ‘Trivial Pursuit’ is not a problem. Rain is another matter!
On the positive side the previous owner removed the sink, drain and filled the other two holes in the hull which were for the ‘Heads’. (boaty talk for Loo)
This leaves the cockpit drains and their seacocks. Problem: when it rains the cockpit fills with water which refuses to go down the drains. (except ashore, when they work fine!) Removing the bottom step allows me to lay on my side with my head jammed under the top step and my feet elevated on the forward berth. In this position I can unscrew the clips and remove the hose. (remembering to shut the sea
cocks off first!) Theory #1 the hoses are too long and loop causing air bubbles to be trapped and so stopping the drains from working.
Half a day spent in ‘the position’ cutting and refitting hoses and getting very wet from leaks (memo, shut seacocks first!) proves theory #1 incorrect. After sea trials (boaty talk for having fun) I tip buckets of water into the cockpit but it does not drain. Theory #2 we need right-angle drain fittings. Assume the ‘position’ get wet etc, all to no avail!! Theory #3 We need MUCH bigger drains!!!!!!
Tomorrow they say, there is wind and no rain. I’m going sailing!
Keeping the water, on which we are floating, out of the little Corribee ‘Trivial Pursuit’ is not a problem. Rain is another matter!
On the positive side the previous owner removed the sink, drain and filled the other two holes in the hull which were for the ‘Heads’. (boaty talk for Loo)
This leaves the cockpit drains and their seacocks. Problem: when it rains the cockpit fills with water which refuses to go down the drains. (except ashore, when they work fine!) Removing the bottom step allows me to lay on my side with my head jammed under the top step and my feet elevated on the forward berth. In this position I can unscrew the clips and remove the hose. (remembering to shut the sea
Half a day spent in ‘the position’ cutting and refitting hoses and getting very wet from leaks (memo, shut seacocks first!) proves theory #1 incorrect. After sea trials (boaty talk for having fun) I tip buckets of water into the cockpit but it does not drain. Theory #2 we need right-angle drain fittings. Assume the ‘position’ get wet etc, all to no avail!! Theory #3 We need MUCH bigger drains!!!!!!
Tomorrow they say, there is wind and no rain. I’m going sailing!
Thursday, 3 September 2015
Glue in my Beard
There is glue in my beard.
There is glue in my beard, in my hair and over the front of my shirt. Working on boats can be hazardous. The inside of ‘Trivial Pursuit’ is neat and clean, lined on the sides and the roof with an insulating material. Fixing a drooping area of the foam-backed lining, on the underside of the main hatch, was going to be a straight forward ’no problem’ job. Obviously I needed an impact adhesive, something I have used for 50 years. So I went to a local Aladdin’s cave of a place where one can get absolutely everything and got some. There is a scene in the Sci-Fi film Alien where the acid drool eats its way through the deck. Well it was almost as scary as that! As long as I can remember impact adhesive has been thick and inclined to sit looking at you, challenging you to spread it. Not this lot. I reached up, pulled down the offending droopy bit from above my head and applied a generous amount of adhesive. It did not sit, it ran like monster drool, the long threads marching inexorably toward me. I could not retreat, jammed against a bulkhead with four foot of sitting headroom, I was helpless. Three days later I’m still finding glue on bits of me, but never mind, she sails like a dream!
There is glue in my beard, in my hair and over the front of my shirt. Working on boats can be hazardous. The inside of ‘Trivial Pursuit’ is neat and clean, lined on the sides and the roof with an insulating material. Fixing a drooping area of the foam-backed lining, on the underside of the main hatch, was going to be a straight forward ’no problem’ job. Obviously I needed an impact adhesive, something I have used for 50 years. So I went to a local Aladdin’s cave of a place where one can get absolutely everything and got some. There is a scene in the Sci-Fi film Alien where the acid drool eats its way through the deck. Well it was almost as scary as that! As long as I can remember impact adhesive has been thick and inclined to sit looking at you, challenging you to spread it. Not this lot. I reached up, pulled down the offending droopy bit from above my head and applied a generous amount of adhesive. It did not sit, it ran like monster drool, the long threads marching inexorably toward me. I could not retreat, jammed against a bulkhead with four foot of sitting headroom, I was helpless. Three days later I’m still finding glue on bits of me, but never mind, she sails like a dream!
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