The Cornish Coble is a 16'6" open boat, rigged with standing lug and jib

In June 1995 I suffered the indignity of a capsize in the Sound of Sleat, about 4 miles south of Mallaig, and I thought the lessons I learnt that day might be usefully shared.

I have owned a Coble for nearly 20 years now, during which time I have cruised over 1000 miles in Hebridean waters, and explored nearly 40 islands off the west coast of England, Wales and Scotland. In that time I have never felt really threatened by a capsize either before or since. So what went wrong?

I had set out from Loch Morar intending to rendezvous with friends in Mallaig. I had one crew with me. It was blowing force 5 to 6 from the north. I was not over canvassed; I had up my No. 2 jib, which tacks down to the bow rather than the end of the bowsprit, and 2 reefs in the main. Under that rig we were comfortable, although there was quite a lot of heavy spray coming over the bow and finding its way into the bilge. This required frequent pumping. It was cold although sunny.

We had been sailing for just under two hours. We had closed the mainland shore on port tack and needed to go about; we also needed to pump out again. I decided to tack and then pump, because the position of the strum box makes pumping easier on starboard.

I put the helm down, and the boat came up into the wind. We missed stays, and she fell back onto port tack, momentarily dead in the water. The crew had moved into the centre of the boat anticipating completion of the tack. Suddenly the boat began to heel, water poured in over the gunwale, she subsided into the sea and immediately inverted. It happened rather more quickly than it has taken to write. We both clambered onto the upturned hull, and sat there taking stock. The first impression was how quiet it had suddenly become: a boat is a noisy thing moving through the water in a bit of a blow.

So how did it happen?

1. The root of the cause was that I had become lethargic and careless through thumping to windward for an extended period, into a cold wind and frequent heavy spray.

2. The Coble has a bluff entry and little rocker which can make her difficult to tack into a short sea. I knew that. It is exacerbated when she is heavy laden and/or with too much water in the bilge. I should have anticipated she might miss stays.

3. I should have prepared my crew for the possibility we might miss stays. I did not and as a result he had moved to the centre of the boat, and did not realise until too late what was happening.

4. Perhaps most seriously I did not uncleat the main. As a young dinghy sailor one of the first things I learnt was never cleat the main. That is easier said than done in a heavy cruising dinghy going to windward over a lengthy period. However at the very least it is vital to uncleat the main on going about, and in any event the mainsheet should always be in the helmsman's hands.

5. I should have pumped out before tacking even if that meant heaving to. There are two good reasons for that: first it would have made her easier to tack, and lessened the risk of missing stays, and secondly the moment caused by the weight of water pouring from one side of the boat to the other of a flat bilged boat is de- stabilising, even taking into account the baffle provided by the plate case.

The story had a happy ending: after debating whether we should attempt a recovery or wait to drift ashore which was to leeward, we decided on the former. (This was only day 2 of an 8 day holiday!) The risk was if we failed we should get very cold very quickly, but if we did nothing the boat would almost certainly have been wrecked on the shore, which was rock.

In the event, she came up easily, and floated with gunwales out. In that condition she sailed comparatively well, and we were able to make a sheltered cove, and bail her out. We had also been seen from the shore, and just as we were getting shipshape again the Mallaig lifeboat hove into sight. My crew was cold by this time as he had spent longer in the water than I had. The outboard was useless and the offer of a tow was readily accepted.

We were greeted as distressed seamen at Mallaig, and immediately ushered by the chaplain and his staff into the Mission for Seamen centre. We were given showers, a huge pot of steaming tea appeared, and our clothes were taken off and washed and dried. By the time we had finished watching the quarter finals of the rugby world cup on the centre's television (the reason for Mallaig being our destination in the first place), we were as good as new. The crew of the Mallaig lifeboat and the staff of the Mission to Seamen earned our considerable gratitude and respect that day.

The next day we went on to the head of Loch Nevis, and later, up to Plockton and the C... Islands, before returning to Mallaig.

I returned home suitably humble. The real lessons I learnt again that day, and this is a classic example, is that the consequences of dropping your guard, even for a moment, is that the sea will deliver a knock out punch, like as not.