I've been thinking over a whole lot of things after last weekend, whilst laid low all week with the dreaded lurgy (a.k.a. man flu or in other words a nasty common cold!)
The stand out thought is just how well we coped with by far the heaviest sustained weather we've sailed in to date. I had few concerns about the boat, Sabres have an excellent and well deserved reputation as good sea boats and "Erbas" is, thanks to her previous owner, in tip top condition as to rig and so on.
However, the crew side of things was a question mark. For myself, I had some concerns about my ability to cope with rough weather. I've come over all queasy on several occasions when its got choppy and I confess I had my doubts. However, having taken a Kwells an hour or so before setting out I then felt no need to take a further dose even though that one tablet would have worn off by the time we got into the rougher conditions in the outer Blackwater
Jane slept, or tried to at least (she had the cold then that she subsequently gave to me) through most of it as best she could. Surprisingly, despite commenting on feeling like a football being bounced around and despite feeling queasy within half an hour of getting up (prompting an immediate return to her berth) she also opined that it "wasn't too bad" and that she'd be happy to go out in those conditions again provided we had a third hand on board. (I'll come back to that in a mo ...)
Tony showed no signs of distress either apart from acquiring a few bruises. Those he picked up as he did most of the hard work of going on deck to reef down and moving around the cockpit. I (unusually for me really) stayed fairly firmly glued to the tiller.
So there we were, out in a solid F7 with occasional sustained gusts into F8, or full gale, territory for the first time. And by choice too. Although the forecast had been for F5 or F6 gusting F7 I'd made allowance for the possibility of it being a notch worse and it was. What there wasn't at the time of departure was a gale warning in force. Had there been we would not have left Burnham.
Was it a good decision to go? Yes, I think so. Jane was not unhappy. Tony and I thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, nothing got broken and I felt I'd moved another rung or two up the experience ladder towards becoming a half decent sailor.
Would I go again in the same circumstances? Yes, I would!
So why didn't we go for it on Sunday and should we have?
Well firstly the actual conditions we were seeing at Bradwell by late morning were a notch worse than Saturday. We were seeing gusts of 35 to 40 knots on the windex and a walk out to the sea wall had both me and Tony feeling it was not on. The final straw was that for Sunday there was a Gale Warning in force for the Thames Estuary sea area.
Had we been under significant pressure to get back on Sunday, as we would have been before I quit the full time job, we'd have probably gone for it leaving before dawn. That would have got us across the Ray'sn and into the Crouch before the wind really picked up again but it would have been a dampener the night before knowing that we had to be up and going at four in the morning! And it would not have been fun.
Happily, with some minor inconvenience, we had the option of staying put until first light on Monday and I'm perfectly happy with that decision. In the same circumstances I would do the same thing again without hesitation.
So that's the decision making process looked at and justified - it was a good call to go for it on Saturday and an equally good call not to go for it on Sunday. Smugly satisfied with that, let's have a look at one or two things I'm not so satisfied with ...
There were a number of definite lessons to be learnt about our preparation and so on.
We were unusually lax in making ready for sea. I can only offer in my defence as skipper that this was our first outing of any sort since last October and I simply forgot some things. A poor defence though.
We failed to adequately secure the saloon table and properly stow gear resulting in a certain amount of carnage down below! Worse, I totally forgot to drop the forward hatch to the fully closed position. Astonishingly, not a drop of water came in but it could have had quite serious consequences.
And we had no snacks to hand nor a flask of coffee made up both of which would have improved life for me and Tony no end. (We could have hove to for quarter of an hour to brew up but we opted to keep going as we'd be in port soon enough anyway)
Jane took all of the above in hand on Sunday morning and by the time we made the "no go" decision she'd secured everything properly, found and made up a flask of coffee and put a couple of rounds of sandwiches in the fridge ready. Bless her, she didn't complain at all that her efforts were in vain!
Another important lesson we learnt is to remove the tiller pilot spigot when the pilot isn't in use. A couple of Tony's bruises were as a result of coming into contact with the spigot when sitting down and if someone landed the base of their spine on it heavily it could be properly nasty.
"George", by the way, was set up and ready to go but with malice aforethought we were pressing on with sails set for the sustained wind rather than the gusts. Steering by hand meant we could luff up in the gusts and if necessary spill wind from the main. The autopilot inevitably and expectedly struggles to cope with that scenario and to use it would have meant a further reduction in sail area. With a relatively short day and an active and competent crew I chose to go for speed rather than comfort!
And that brings me neatly to thoughts about reefing.
The first question in mind is whether we should have reefed sooner. And I'm really not sure. I was fully aware that we were sailing downwind or on a broad reach all the way out to the Inner Whitaker and that things were likely to stiffen up once we came onto the wind but we certainly weren't over pressed with one reef in each of the main and the genoa at that stage.
When we changed course to cross the Spitway we came off a virtual run onto a close reach and at first we were still not over pressed. It wasn't our change of course that required the second reef, it was a distinct and sudden change in wind strength and direction.
I luffed and spilt wind to cope with that initially and delayed the decision to put the second reef in for a couple of minutes deliberately expecting that it was just a passing squall. When it became clear it wasn't dropping any time soon the reef went in.
I could second guess that period of decision making from here to eternity! Should we have reefed before changing course for the Spitway? Should we have reefed the moment the wind increase hit us? I don't know is the answer. All I know is that nothing broke and we didn't die!
I am though very aware that my decision to delay putting in the second reef in the main was, in part, due to a reluctance to send someone forward to the mast in those conditions unless it was absolutely necessary to do so. Whilst the sea conditions were not extreme, they were a good deal rougher than we are used to encountering and inevitably, being in the confined and turbulent waters of the Thames Estuary, the motion was rather unpredictable.
Leaving the cockpit in such conditions is always going to carry with it an element of risk. We had prudently set the jackstays and we were both clipped on during the evolution but it is never going to be an easy undertaking and that has set me pondering once again the desirability of bringing all the reefing lines back to the cockpit.
I'll return to this theme in greater detail at a later date but in brief I think the best scheme is going to be to shift the halyard, topping lift and kicking strap to the port side where the cabin top is narrower, stack a second deck organiser above the existing one to starboard and add a second bank of three clutches alongside the existing bank. That, along with sorting out the necessary blocks at the base of the mast, will give us twin line reefing on all three reefs (and if I'm going to do it, I want to be able to put all three in from the cockpit)
It does however mean spending two or three hundred quid on bits, which I don't have right now, and it also means re-reeving all of the in mast halyards which is not a job to be undertaken lightly. I think it's one for the project list but its certainly something I want done before I set out on the Round Britain trip next year or the year after.
The next cause for thought is the question of whether we were carrying too much sail during the beat up into the Blackwater. And when you consider the excellent performance to windward and that at no point did "Erbas" feel over pressed and further that we only saw water on the side decks when a wave caught us the answer has to be no.
Oh for sure, had I been on my own and needing to use the tiller pilot I'd have needed to shorten down sail even further. In fact, I can confidently say that I fully expect I'd have rolled away the genoa altogether, pinned in the main with either two or three reefs in it and motored in to Bradwell as fast as I possibly could!
I think we were on the edge of needing to put a third reef in the main but we were fine with two. What was obvious was that with two full reefs in the genoa it was starting to lose shape and had we rolled much more away it would have become less and less effective. I was starting to wonder about the as yet unused in anger sails stowed under the head end of my berth ...
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| "Erbas"in her old colours with storm sails set * |
However, we've never even had the storm trysail out of the bag! With a third deep reef in the main I simply cannot envisage ever needing to use it in coastal waters, it would really only come into its own in genuine mid-ocean storm conditions and we're not going there!
However, the third reef and the storm jib would have made for a much less demanding ride last Saturday but the question is whether we could have sailed the beat into the Blackwater in a reasonable time. I'm not at all sure we would have under so little canvas but we'll never know for sure!
There is another sail we haven't done any more than look at which is the No.2 hank on jib. I've had it out of the bag and it seems to be all in one piece. Now that is a sail I almost wish we'd had with us.
I am wondering if the No.2 jib would have been a better sail to set than a heavily reefed genoa. I suspect that with two reefs in the genoa it is still the better of the two sails but roll away any more and the jib, if it's in good order, might well come into its own. I'm determined to dig it out of hiding and have a play!
(Of course, setting the No.2 jib or the storm jib requires an extended period of foredeck work involving, as it does, setting up the removable inner forestay, lashing the genoa to the stay, hanking on the jib, shifting the sheets from the genoa to the jib and finally hoisting the sail. In, inevitably, rough seas. Hmm)
Another problem we had was simply moving about the cockpit."Erbas" is unashamedly designed as a family coastal cruiser and she has a large, comfortable and spacious cockpit. That is, indeed, one of the many things we find so appealing about her and we wouldn't wish it any different.
However, when the going gets tough its not at all easy to get from the downhill side to the uphill side, as the crew inevitably has to do when tacking or trimming the jib sheets. On a couple of occasions Tony even used the aforementioned tiller pilot spigot as a hand hold until I pointed out that it isn't particularly firmly nailed down! I'm not going to go overboard (aha ha ha!) in preparing for heavy weather because I'd sooner avoid the problem altogether if I can but I'm minded to look at adding a few handholds of some form or another around the cockpit.
A lot of the above considerations apply only if we have a third hand on board. Jane was quite clear that whils she was happy to be out in such conditions with Tony or Rik on the crew muster, she would be considerably less keen if we were on our own. That is understandable as with crew she feels able to deal with the conditions as suits her best which is to simply sleep through it as much as possible.
I'm more than happy to accept that if we're sans crew the "go / no go" criteria are a lot lower. As a rule of thumb, with crew I'll consider going if there's no extant gale warning, without crew it's a no go if there's a strong breeze warning. The latter is F6 and above, gale warnings start at F8. Seems about right.
That said, we did have a conversation about coping with unexpectedly worse conditions and agreed that we need to practice evolutions such as reefing down as a couple with Jane doing the deck work (as she feels more confident about that than helming in difficult conditions).
Another niggle that it has brought to mind, which I've been meaning to look at for ages, is the lack of any effective means of lashing the tiller. To date I've relied on using the tiller pilot either to maintain a heading (in Auto mode) or to keep the tiller where I want it (by leaving it in Standby) but if it failed that's not going to be an option. More string and hardware needed methinks!
All in all, whilst it raised a number of issues worthy of further consideration, I have to confess to feeling a little bit chuffed at just how well things went over last weekend. I shan't be rushing to head out into an F8 again in a hurry but knowing that I can handle it if I have to is very satisfying
* Picture courtesy of Ian French, "Apogee". Note that normally the genoa would be furled outside of the storm jib and the mainsail would be stowed on the boom. The sails were not bent on when this photo was taken.
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