‘ You’re just supposed to know’
It feels great to be back on a mooring after five years in marinas. I’ve traded a view of towering white topsides and tin sheds for a glorious panorama of river, salt marsh and oak forest, and swapped the clatter of halyards on masts for the calls of wading birds and the sound of wind rustling through the trees. I’ve also saved several thousand pounds.
There are intangible benefits, too. I no longer fret about manoeuvring my unhandy long-keeler in and out of a maze of pontoons under the critical gaze of neighbouring berthholders, with an awkward cross-tide running, whenever I want to go sailing. It’s so much easier now, especially if I’m alone – I just drop the mooring and go.
That said, there’s less compulsion to go anywhere. I’m already in a lovely place the moment I step aboard, with wildlife to watch, fish to catch for supper and just a few other boats, all a fair distance away. And I do love admiring Cleaver’s curves as I row away from her after a weekend on board. You don’t get to do that in marinas.
I was taken aback by just how rusty my dinghy-handling skills have become after five years on walk-ashore pontoons. I’d forgotten how hard it is to row against a 25-knot headwind – if you’re not careful to feather the oars when they leave the water, you’ll probably go backwards – and I’ve learned that there’s a limit to how little a dinghy should weigh. My fancy new ultra-light inflatable actually took flight last weekend in a gusty breeze, twirling on its painter and flinging its oars and pump into the river. I hadn’t thought to tie them down – my trusty old Avon never got airborne, not even in a gale. I really should have known better. If you need a refresher, we’ve got some useful dinghy seamanship tips on p30.
Also in this issue is Tom Cunliffe’s guide to the unwritten rules of sailing (p20). There’s an awful lot of these to learn and remember, and I’ll bet that we’ve all broken at least a few of them, unwittingly or otherwise, at some point. Nobody explains them to a novice sailor. You’re just supposed to know.
You may find, when you read Tom’s guide, that he’s missed out something important. If so, write in and tell us what makes your blood boil. The more people know about it, the less it’s likely to happen and the better we’ll all get along at sea and in port.