CHAPTER ONE

Retirement . Choice of Boat . Conversion to Mini Cabin Cruiser

Retirement, fortunately by the sea, gave me the opportunity of fulfilling two ambitions, not in the sense of do-or-die ambitions, but something I just wanted to do — ‘muck around’ in small boats again, and really learn something about seamanship and navigation. Chance found us settled on the east coast of Scotland at Anstruther, in Fife, and I soon found that I was ideally placed to fulfil both ambitions. Our house is right on the foreshore, and only 4 minutes’ walk from the harbour, and I also soon discovered that I could attend a night class on Seamanship and Navigation at the local academy, not 100 yards from the house, where I enrolled immediately for the forthcoming winter session.

The Waid Academy, which takes its name from a seafaring man, provides senior school education for the East Neuk of Fife and, as the greater part of the population of the area is directly or indirectly involved in the fishing industry, seamanship and navigation form part of the school curriculum.

Apart from the inshore fishing along the coast, Pittenweem, no distance away, has a fleet of 40 chiefly middle-water boats, and many crews resident in the area travel by minibus to Aberdeen, from where their distant-water fishing boats operate. It is of interest to note that in the mid-nineteenth century, 137 boats were based in Anstruther, employing over 700 fishermen and a total workforce of approximately 2,300, making it the second busiest herring port in Scotland at that time. Regrettably, today, this large and well placed harbour does little more than provide a home for a dozen crabbers, the RNLI Oakley lifeboat The Doctors, the Scottish Fisheries Museum’s two veteran fishing boats and, of course, at all times acts as an overflow or in times of bad weather an emergency fishing port for the likes of Pittenweem, etc. In summer a variety of small boats abound and, of recent years, more and more visiting yachts make it their first port of call in the Firth of Forth.

Some will say that Anstruther is a rather run-down fishing port, but what a lot it has to offer the would-be yachtsman or small boat owner keen on seamanship and wishing to practice his navigation! Within a matter of a few miles, both up and down the coast, are several small fishing harbours which are good to run to, and also of interest. Offshore and 5 miles to the SE we have the Isle of May, and 9 miles S of Anstruther is the Bass Rock, two very prominent landmarks. Again, more or less opposite and on the south of the Firth are the two holiday towns of North Berwick and Dunbar with their pleasant harbours, the former overlooked by 606’ Berwick Law, and the latter well marked by its old castle. In all an excellent training ground for the amateur navigator and, should one wish to venture forth at night to really test oneself, there are 3 outstanding lighthouses, May Isle, Fidra and Barns Ness, and all the main fishing harbours are well served with leading lights.

Another blessing is that just 7½ miles to the E we have Fife Ness, the main coastguard station for these parts, covering from Berwick upon Tweed in the S up to near Montrose, as well as the whole of the Firths of Forth and Tay. The staff there are always willing to give one the latest forecast, the effects of our own local weather conditions, and even discuss a proposed passage. We are indeed very fortunate. The harbour dries, a point of criticism by some, but it does not take very long to get accustomed to working tides and planning accordingly. Being so dependent on tides teaches one the necessity and value of tide tables, and one should never fail to consult them.

I soon accepted that the local waters were no place for my 10’ Cherub dinghy, but I also realised that retirement, coupled with the malignant inroads of inflation on my capital, would not permit me to have anything very much bigger. I cast around and soon settled on the 16’ Orkney Longliner. Having spent just on 4 years on marine construction works during the war in the Orkney Isles, I must admit that nostalgia played quite a part in my choice, but as it has turned out, I do not think I could have done better. That they are good sea boats is borne out by the number one sees scattered up the west coast of Scotland and in places like this, there being three in the harbour.

Kristina

The Longliner with the Cherub astern

Wheel steering and cabin bulkhead

Mine is the ordinary 16’ GRP open boat with a cuddy, which I bought new, along with an 8hp Yamaha outboard, and spent my first summer getting to know the coast and pottering from harbour to harbour, and once ventured out to May Island. By the end of our short season, 5 months in these parts, I felt that whilst the boat had tremendous potential, one could never do much more than potter about, being restricted to sitting in the stern with the outboard tiller, and the added difficulty of seeing ahead because the forward cuddy hatch, though opening, had no window and could hardly be left open when underway.

With Kristina out of the water and blocked up at home for the winter, I set about considering what improvements I could undertake to make her more useful. At that time the absolute ‘must’ to me was a window in the front hatch, and this I made with ¼” Perspex, using a tough, semi-rigid plastic for inner and outer frames, secured with ¼” s/s countersunk bolts.

I then decided to turn the cuddy into a little cabin by building in a complete bulkhead, giving myself wheel steering and remote controls for the outboard engine at the same time. For this I used ½” exterior ply which has proved very satisfactory, and of course was a lot cheaper than marine ply. At the base I scribed a 1½” thick rib for securing the bottom of the bulkhead and bonded the whole right round, both inside and out, with a double layer of 5” wide fibreglass to the hull.

The winter’s programme was completed by the addition of a bilge pump, echo sounder and compass. The wheel mounting formed a very useful little locker for flares, hooter, etc. I also decided to follow the wise men of Anstruther and carry a ‘get-you-home’ engine for, after all, we are right on the edge of the North Sea. I chose a 3½ hp Yamaha without remote controls, mounted on a fixed Seagull extension bracket. Light, unobtrusive and adequate.

The difference in the boat’s performance, and mine, with the central control position was really remarkable and she was no sooner in the water than I built a floor throughout. In the cabin floor and on the centreline I incorporated a 3’0” x 9” x 2” concrete slab as ballast, over and above the water-filled keel; this gave her a really good grip on the water and Kristina and I were as one. The under-floor space only averaged about 2½”, but it did ensure dry footwear.

As the season progressed I found we were very much at home in the chiefly prevalent chop and swell common to these parts. A bit of coastal passage-making was great fun and helped to consolidate the past winter’s navigation classes. In all, what a difference in capability from sitting blind in the stern with the outboard tiller under one’s arm, and I now began to feel that I had a mini cabin cruiser rather than an outboard dinghy.

Unfortunately, towards the end of the summer, ill health dogged me and made mine a very short season. A spell in hospital gave me time to reflect, and I came out with a strong notion of converting her to a mini motor/sailer, simply for the sheer pleasure and satisfaction I would derive if successful, and also as a counter to family banter, they all being very much sail orientated whereas I, through circumstances, had always been of the ‘Stinker Brigade’!

CHAPTER TWO

Conversion to Sail . A Ketch Rig

My knowledge of naval architecture or yacht design being absolutely nil, I decided to work on the principle of ‘what looks right is right’, and drew out a longitudinal section of the boat with a Bermudian sloop type rig to give me a sail area of about 100 ft². The height of the mast frightened me to death and she looked as though she would just roll over.

Main mast tabernacle

Mizzen mast under construction

Centreboard casing under construction

My second attempt was a ketch rig with a jib, standing lug as a mainsail, and a Bermudian mizzen sail, giving a total area of 98 ft². The main mast is situated on the cabin top with an inside support post, and the mizzen mast is located hard against the aft thwart and buoyancy chamber. The proportions looked right, and if appearances on paper mean anything, she looked stable and manageable. My theoretical studies were over! My mini motor/sailer was on the drawing board.

For convenience the lug sail has a boom secured only at the tack and clew. A short piece of track on the main mast takes the gooseneck of the boom. This has proved very useful in getting the luff taut. Track takes the slides of the luff and foot of the mizzen sail. I have always had a preference for ketches, although they are no doubt more work when sailing; as a layman I think they are the safest type of all-weather cruising rig.

I immediately sent away for a quote for aluminium masts; the main, sitting on the cabin top, the shorter at 11’, and the mizzen at 12’. To my horror the quote came back at £283, and timber masts professionally made were not much cheaper at £165. Of course I should have realised that as a one-off order I could not have expected much else. Fortunately one of our local builders, also a boat man, came to my rescue and offered to get me two off saw 4” x 3” sticks of ordinary red pine from an established timber yard, and also the loan of a small portable power plane. He showed more confidence in me than I had in myself. Two beautiful sticks arrived, well seasoned and with the grain running from end to end. I was delighted, particularly when I got his account for £31.85! After some practice with the power plane I set-to and was well pleased with my two slightly tapered octagonal masts. So far my slight wanderings with the plane have not been commented on.

I found making the masts very therapeutic, and so mentally got down to forming the centreboard casing and the job of building it into the hull. I knew the keel was of hollow construction for strength and to contain water, but realised I knew nothing of its construction. Orkney Boats were good enough to point out that, unlike a wooden boat, the strength of a fibreglass boat was in the skin, as the boat has no backbone. Thus a centreboard could well be built into the keel. With this information the task seemed much easier; however, I decided to offset the centreboard by about 5” rather than cut and possibly disturb the steel sole plate of the keel.

Having fashioned the bits and pieces of the casing from ½” ply and pine, I assembled it in two halves each comprising a side, an end and half the bottom flange. I then covered what would be the four inside faces with two layers of fibreglass and screwed, glued and bolted the two halves together, sealing the diagonally opposite joints by running in fibreglass resin. Throughout the conversion I used brass screws and bolts, making the latter from ¼” screwed brass rod purchased by the yard, and brass nuts and washers bought by the dozen. It made for very cheap bolts, also giving the exact length required. The top yoke for pulling the bottom flange tight to the hull was cut from one piece of wood.

Cutting through the hull was no problem, although in keeping close to the keel not only did I cut through the bottom of the boat, but also the start of the layer of fibreglass forming the side of the keel. Another inch or so away and I would have missed the latter. This did not create a problem, as I coated the two surfaces with resin and used a plastic filler between the hull and the bottom flange. The whole pulled up extremely well when bolted with ten of my home made bolts, of varying length, due to the shape and curve of the hull. I then glassed the casing to the hull, both inside and out, tucking the fibreglass a couple of inches up the casing. I have never experienced any sign of a leak.

I secured the front of the casing, at the top, to the cabin bulkhead thwart, and at the rear to a new bulkhead which also supported a new thwart convenient for the helmsman, again bonding casing to bulkheads and bulkheads to hull, and of course providing drain plugs so that all water could get through to the bilge pump.

The centreboard was also of ½” ply, 18” wide and having an effective 3’ 6” below the hull. This section was encased in lead beaten out from old waste pipes, etc. The entire unit was encased in fibreglass and proved just light enough to handle. The end of a fish box provided an excellent handle, beautifully shaped!

Centreboard slot

The Skipper

Easter saw Kristina on the water again and, much to my relief and delight, not only did she float the right way up, but also she sat dead plumb in the water

On account of weight and for the sake of economy I decided to knock up a tabernacle of my own, something that would permit me to drop the main mast should the occasion arise, and which would be useful when fitting-out and laying-up. The tabernacle consists of a piece of red pine, 8” x 7” x 1½”, cut to the shape of the mast and rounded at one end to permit the mast to hinge back on the baseplate bolted to the cabin roof. This base was fitted with two side cheeks cut from 1/8” steel plate and galvanised; these in turn supported two 3/8” galvanised bolts, the rear one acting as the hinge pin, and the front one passing over the mast sole plate as a lock. Of course when this was first seen, many said it was far too light, the sole plate would shear, etc; however, I have now had three seasons without any trouble. A crutch on the mizzen supports the main mast when down. All mast stays are 5mm galvanised wire covered with 10mm plastic tubing as a protection for sails, etc.

From the start of converting to sail I knew that sighting of a rudder would be a problem, as I had no desire to give up my stand-by engine and there was insufficient room on the transom. When changing to wheel steering I had fitted an outboard rudder to improve manoeuvrability. This, though not big enough for sail, if extended might be adequate for wheel steering with the engine off and in neutral. I increased the area of the rudder considerably with 3 ply shaped to fit, and covered the lot with copper sheet from a bust hot water cylinder, I being one of these people who never throw anything away. If it worked, I would have something more permanent made.

I had the sails made professionally, the material used being 5½ oz. Terylene. The lugsail and jib halyards pass through bullseyes at the foot of the mast, and then back to cleats at the rear of the cabin top, the jib sheets being secured in jam cleats similarly placed, all handy to the wheel position. The lug sheet passes through a set of two-to-one blocks clipped well down on the mizzen mast and secured in a jam cleat situated on the main thwart, just aft of the centreboard casing. The mizzen hoist and topping lift come down to a set of home made belaying pins on the mizzen, and the sheets are led to each side of the above thwart, and again secured with jam cleats. With everything within reach of the steering position, I felt she could easily be sailed single-handed.

CHAPTER THREE

She Really Sails! · To North Berwick · A Useful Mini Motor Sailer · Improvements

After a few brief excursions to see how she behaved under power, particularly in a bit of a sea, in went the centreboard and up went the mizzen and jib. She sailed remarkably well in something like a force 3 and, perhaps most important at this stage, the rudder worked! Any drag from the outboard stem or prop would be of no consequence at our kind of sailing speeds. Once I was really sure of her stability I hoisted the main as well and, in a wind of similar force from the SE, off we went to nearby Pittenweem. Without entering the harbour there we came back, and with few manoeuvres sailed right into Anstruther’s outer harbour before starting the outboard. A very short first test, and if she was going to sail at all, conditions could not have been better, with the wind on her beam virtually all the time. I was overjoyed.

I suppose I spent the summer pottering, getting to know my boat under sail and power, noting what improvements I could make during the forthcoming winter. To me she sailed well and I liked to think that she kept up to about 45° on the wind; at least it established that her sails would always get us home or off a lee shore should the occasion arise. She has no log, but in a force 3-4 she does a steady 4 knots, perhaps creaming along nearer 5 in a gust. This was checked against a known 1¼ miles between harbour lights; no doubt about as much as one can expect from a boat which possibly does not have a hull speed much in excess of 6 knots. In such a wind she heels over quickly to 5-7º, then stays there. I also found that without the centreboard she sailed remarkably well with mizzen and jib only, due no doubt to her long, straight, substantial keel and useful bilge keels.

Towards the end of the season I felt sufficiently confident to go further afield, so I asked the Head of Seamanship and Navigation to join me on a passage across the Firth of Forth to North Berwick some Saturday or Sunday, weather permitting. Ten days later on the Saturday we set off at 14.15 under sail for the 9.5 nm crossing, having received favourable weather forecasts from the Fife Ness coastguard station for the next 12 hours for force 3-4 from the west, with a slight swell. Kristina behaved splendidly and we were enjoying the experience, checking our position against the chart a couple of times just for the exercise. Nevertheless by 17.00 we were still a good mile out from North Berwick and well to the east of the Isle of Craigleith; obviously in plotting and checking our course we had not allowed enough to windward to off-set the ebb running at about 1¼ knots. I was learning fast. I started the stand-by and we quickly motored in.

A brief walk to look around, a lager, some rolls and a chat with some interested folk and an hour had just about gone. Time was now all important as we wanted to be back by dark around 21.00. On this account I started the main motor and we set out to see if a boat like this could really motor-sail. The wind remained as forecast, but with the tide starting to flood, quite a chop developed; however, her motion was easy and comfortable and I set out to use a minimum of throttle so as to keep the sails drawing well. I soon struck a balance and then left the engine to it, and Kristina fairly tramped along. We were amazed at being back in Anstruther by 20.05: just over 2 hours for the 9.5 nm — possibly a little bit more due to the flood tide. Fuel consumption looked so good that I decided to check it out in daylight, and I was more than delighted to find we had only used just under ¾ of a gallon in two hours’ continuous running with the 8 hp engine, and averaging 5 knots on the return leg, clearly showing the advantages, including the economics, of motor sailing even in a small boat like Kristina.

I was well pleased with my first season under sail and power; however, on the negative side there were faults which were worth trying to eradicate. With the centreboard out and under power with full throttle, she was inclined to slop quite a bit of water up through the casing. The top of the latter was flush with the cabin thwart and I decided that I could overcome this problem by heightening the casing to be flush with the main thwart, a matter of 6”. This was no real problem as I had intended replacing the latter, which was in ½” ply, with mahogany from a magnificent old thwart given to me, and there was plenty for both. It turned out to be an excellent job both in appearance and convenience, but in no way stopped the splashing. I thought of a rubber flap on the bottom of the casing, but decided that this could be easily damaged as we dry out practically every tide, so I made a cover plate lined with sponge rubber which I clamped to the top of the casing, but to no avail — the clamps were a damn nuisance and still some water seeped through the sponge rubber. Whilst out sailing I noticed that no water ever came up the casing when the centreboard was in, whatever the conditions, so I fixed a short dagger plate the length and depth of the casing to the cover I had previously made, and just dropped it in. It worked perfectly; no clamps and no problems! No water has ever come up, so the short dagger plate must just be sufficient to break up the turbulence caused by the opening at the bottom of the casing.

The mizzen horse

The permanent rudder

The new mid-thwart and heightened centreboard casing

My second problem was that when beating, Kristina sometimes decided not to come about, more so of course in light winds, and sometimes in a bit of a chop. The fact that this happened on either tack showed that it had nothing to do with the centreboard being offset. We could find no definite pattern; it was just as though she was lazy at times. Perhaps it was that the centreboard was too far aft, in which case there was nothing I could do about it. I was not particularly worried as in my kind of sailing, time is of no real consequence and having a very stable little boat, gybing is no problem. I felt another cause could be that she lacked rudder and so, before she came out of the water, I played around with the shape and size of my temporary one, and felt I had at least helped the situation, so decided to have a permanent one made. This I had done at a nearby engineering works serving the fishing industry. Fortunately the horizontal plate forming the clamp of the outboard rudder I had purchased was of a suitable alloy which enabled the new plate, cut from ¼” aluminium, to be welded on direct. The new rudder, whilst not completely solving our tacking problems, has been a success, giving positive steering under all conditions, and has so far proved not to be too much of a strain on the outboard, and when cruising under power she will stay on course with no one at the wheel. When having the new rudder made, I also thought I should do something about a mizzen horse to keep the sheets from catching in the engines. For this I got 1” x 1” aluminium angle, and for forming 90º curves I cut out six 15º slivers from one side of the angle to enable cold bending. The works then welded these up and made small gussets and feet for bolting to the gunwale. A strut of the angle secures to the mizzen mast.

In the cabin, forward of the buoyancy chamber, I fitted two hatch covers, the space beneath providing storage for anchor, spare ropes, etc. Aft of the buoyancy chamber and up to the cabin bulkhead, but allowing a well, I fitted a seat on either side which, however, can be easily stowed. As the foregoing are all flush, they can form two 6’ 0” berths if wanted. I also adapted a little single-burner butane cooker so that a cup of coffee or hot soup can be made on arrival, or even underway in a very moderate sea!

CHAPTER FOUR

The Pelorus · Passage to Bass Rock and May Island

Once again with the coming of winter I attended night classes in Seamanship and Navigation; the same course as of previous years, but different in as much as Bill, the head of the department, always lectured off the cuff and not from prepared notes. We worked in pairs and eventually split into two groups of old and new pupils, as a few like myself had returned for a second, third and even fourth time. Twice during the winter’s sixteen lectures he would ask the class to suggest the subject for that evening. What might have appeared as a very casual approach by Bill was, in fact, very effective: he certainly got things into our thick skulls and the atmosphere was very much that of a club.

At one such session we were given the history of navigation, learning that the Polynesians of old used coconut shells and the Pole Star to fix on the equivalent of lines of latitude when crossing the Pacific Ocean, the Phoenicians doing something similar with an arm’s length of string and a little square of wood about 3” x 3”, and in very much later years the use of the pelorus for taking bearings from the deck of a ship for checking its position. At that time I was thinking of buying myself a decent hand-bearing compass, something considerably better than I had. On realising that this was going to cost £40 or £50, I felt it would be rather a luxury considering that in our patch of water we are never out of sight of land except when caught out by fog, when a hand bearing compass would be of little use anyway. Being fascinated by the past, I decided to see if I could make and use a pelorus. I set out to glean what I could about it from different institutes and libraries, but without a great deal of success. All the operational data I got referred to east and west, and in some cases to only 90º of east and west, the pelorus seemingly being used for taking bearings ahead only, whereas I felt that with the modern compass, it could be useful to work through 360°.

The Pelorus

The making was easy: a 10” square base with the compass ring stuck on and varnished over, and mounted with a 7½” sighting disc. The base and disc were made of 3/8” ply, and the sights from left-over 1” x 1” aluminium.

I mounted the pelorus on the aft end of the cabin top on the fore and aft line, directly above the compass, so that bearings were easily read in conjunction with the course, 0°/360° on the base being positioned to the fore. The arithmetic worried me somewhat so I made a cardboard model on which, with pocket compass, and my drawing board as the ship, I worked out dozens of examples, sighting on objects around the room, until I arrived at the simple solution which I give below:

THE BEARING BY PELORUS PLUS COMPASS COURSE (MAGNETIC) GIVES THE PLOT OR MAGNETIC BEARING OF THE OBJECT. SHOULD THE SUM OF THESE TWO EXCEED 360°, SUBTRACT THE LATTER FROM THE SUM TO GET THE PLOT OR MAGNETIC BEARING OF THE OBJECT.

Example 1 Example 2

PELORUS BEARING = 160° PELORUS BEARING = 160° COMPASS COURSE MAGNETIC = 120° COMPASS COURSE MAGNETIC = 285°

.˙. PLOT OF OBJECT = 280° .˙. PLOT OF OBJECT = 85° (445°-360°)

I have the foregoing glued onto the sighting disc, not only for the benefit of my friends, but also as an aid to a shocking memory.

On the inside of the lid of the wheel locker referred to earlier, I have glued the details of all the bearings of our local landmarks and such places as the Isle of May, Bass Rock, Berwick Law, etc. in case of being caught out by fog. Only twice have I had to resort to them to get home, but what a relief to have those bearings when the fog is rolling in quicker than one can roll home, and what a warm feeling inside when all of a sudden, bang in front, is the home port!

By the spring of 1984 Kristina’s conversion was really complete, so all I had to do was to enjoy my five winters of effort to the full. This I really did in the exceptional summer we experienced on the Forth, the same no doubt for every sailor and boatman around our coasts. Winds so light that they barely rippled the water were the order of the day, except for early morning and evening. As a result of my desire to be back in harbour before dusk, or low water if at that time of day, most of our passages as such were done by engine, but what fun my companions and I had. The entire day’s trip was planned beforehand: weather report, courses to steer, state of tides, leeway to allow for, a few bearings to check out after a certain time interval with the pelorus, and of course arrival and departure times. Then a log, scrupulously kept throughout the day to compare with our anticipated day’s passage.

People have said why go to all that trouble when you are only away for the day and can see where you are going? My reply is because it is fun, good to exercise one’s mind and, most important, I will always do it and also let somebody know of my plans, for I too can make mistakes.

Our most memorable day was when we left Anstruther smartly one morning for Bass Rock. As we approached, the island looked like a giant pincushion stuck with thousands of yellow-headed, glass pins. These turned out to be gannets. They say that 13,000 pairs breed on the Bass, and we could well believe it! We lay off for half an hour and, while having coffee, were entertained by these magnificent diving birds with their 6’ wingspan. The smell and noise were rather in keeping with the slightly ancient atmosphere of which we were conscious. We would have liked to linger a while longer but it was departure time for May Island. We encountered a long, gentle but quite considerable swell which made our passage all the more realistic.

After coffee, a dram and sandwiches, my companions were allowed an hour ashore as it was their first visit to the May. I refuelled and chatted to other visiting boats in Kirk Haven where the water was so clear, the sky so blue and the air so warm that we could have been in the Pacific! Again, what a place to linger, with its thousands of puffins, guillemots and razorbills which are forever feeding, and indeed at times seem so full you see them scurrying across the water in an endeavour to take off! Gulls of every description, shags galore and grey seals add to the enchantment of the island. We left ahead of schedule and cruised very close in to the caves and high cliffs on the west of the island before setting course for Anstruther. Below are a few extracts from our log:

Total scheduled time for round trip : 6 hrs 35 mins Actual time : 6 hrs 13 mins

Total scheduled engine time : 5 hrs 05 mins Actual time : 4 hrs 21 mins

Fuel allowed (stand-by not included) : 5 gals Consumed : 3 gals (or 0.7 galls per hour)

Speed: To Bass 5.86kn; To May 6.25kn; To Anstruther 6.25kn Across EBB With EBB With FLOOD

Kristina and I have been to May Island many times over the years, but only once before to Bass Rock, and that also was in 1984. The conditions for crossing by small boat from the north side are seldom ideal, but when the opportunity does present itself, it is well worth going, provided all preparations and precautions have been taken. One really has to wait for a calm spell to develop over several days so that the seas moderate. That, of course, does not mean to say that opportunities for sailing and boating in general are restricted. Our prevailing wind is from the SW, and provided this does not exceed f4, few can complain. Occasionally we get a hefty swell running in from the SE from some far off North Sea disturbance meeting our prevailing wind. Then the harbour is the only nice place; more so when the ebb takes a hand. Then again, with the above-mentioned swell but a very moderate south-easterly, sailing is incredibly exhilarating.

What a season 1984 turned out to be, one to savour and remember as I enter my 71st year. Perhaps now, with my boat complete, I should just return to pottering, but then again I know she can stand a little more sail. A new sail in the form of a gaff for the mizzen, the present jib as a staysail and a little folding bowsprit to take the existing mizzen, slightly re-cut to make a jib? Must think about it… maybe it would overcome her reluctance at times to come about.