In response to Ted Jones, Autumn ’94, I’m the lucky man who lived close enough to put my £699 down for this aptly named yellow-hulled cat’. At one of the many — and always? — wet and windy DCA meets at Loch Creran, skipper John Lunt pressganged myself and another innocent onlooker into this water-borne projectile ‘for a quick sail’. As catspaws shimmered across the bleak waters through the gaps in the hills we rocketed away on a beam reach, totally exhilarated and very soon frozen stiff — it was like being under a cold power-shower. From gale driven rain that is, not from any shipped water. She’s a very dry boat. I’m not a racing man and I figured that any boat that sailed and behaved so well with three aboard under only a well reefed main must make a good fast cruiser — and she has. After three years she came up for sale and I grabbed her. The reduced width lanes on the M56 encouraged ‘elbows in’, but the whole rig towed beautifully.

One of the first and few modifications was to glass in polystyrene blocks into the bows, stern and centre spaces between the hatches. This still left plenty of dry space in each hull for camp kit etc. An addition for cruising was a 2’ x 7’ sheet of 3/4” exterior ply lashed on as foredeck. As a solo sailor it gave security, particularly when handling the extra Danforth anchor and chain. Swinging to this, sleeping on the open deck on my Thermarest pad, gave me more hope of being in the same place come sunrise. A Sony Walkman and a canny eye gave me the weather, and a wee dram, or more, gently faded the stars. The boom tent is still unused.

A word to the president — this cat owner definitely carries an outboard! The great lump of a Johnson 5, borrowed from my Corribee, was partly balanced by the heavier mooring gear, camp kit and fuel tank on the foredeck. When I have a destination in mind, I motorsail when necessary. Solo paddling when becalmed miles offshore is for the Ridgeways of this world.

At 62 with a bad back, the boat can be rigged, launched and recovered alone. If I don’t move up to a bigger cat then a small mod to the trailer will make it all easier. And the bearings never go near the water. One has to dress warmly as one sits on it rather than in it. The NE f4 in April on Loch Linnhe reminded me of this. The White Mamores, sought as an alternative, reminded me to always carry ice axe and crampons on Scottish spring sailing trips.

Coastal sailing off Snowdonia and Anglesey has demonstrated to me that she sails very well with the dagger boards anywhere, and a home-made GRP cuddy as a windbreak is fine for brews on the Gaz once all the Thermoses are emptied. Gosh — writing all this has reminded me what wonderful times we had last summer!