Early recollections of boating..

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robp

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in a non structured manner! What are yours?

I was about eight or nine. Myself and one of my older brother's mates who was also our next door neighbour, were at Latchmoor Pond in Gerrards Cross. We found an old "treasure chest" lid. (A 2'6" long, bowed top effort). I knew from an earlier age that I had to get afloat and this was it. It looked just like a boat! Not knowing much about ballast, form stability or whatever, (I still don't), I set off across the pond. Well, "across" is quite an optimistic term. Within seconds I was in the drink, crowned by the lid. By this time it was dusk and well past curfew. Brother's mate thought that he had better not be too involved in this wetting and said he would get off home. I squelched off after him but somewhat more slowly.

Next problem was, he called in at my house before going through the hedge and simply said; "Rob's in the pond"!

Ouch!!
 
floating next to an upside down mirror dinghy before I can remember much else ... with my Dad and older brother ...
 
About the age of three getting on a boat my dad had when we were stationed at Lyness on Hoy and sailing in Scapa Flow. There were visits to ships of the 'Grey Funnel Line' when they arrived at at the jetty, drinking Coke in the Wardroom and standing on the bridge 'playing' with the wheel.

Being taken to the Longhope Lifeboat and being shown round; it was lost at sea in 1969, with all hands, after we left Hoy.

It's strange how some things stick in the mind.
 
A holiday in a caravan on InchFad on Loch Lomond. The caravan came with a small dinghy with an outboard; and we went everywhere on the Loch with it. The dinghy could also be rigged - I remember being terrified when my Dad took us out to sail!

I was about 6 at the time!
 
1. Aged about 10, sailing out across Swanage bay in one of the school's Oppy-sized gunter dinghies with a schoolmate (Rod Patterson's younger brother).:)
2. Getting a right royal bo!!ocking from the schoolmaster when we got back (he was ashen with worry). :o
 
must of been in the late fifties,father began a quest for a boat ,first in boatyard at Kingston then buying a 15 foot gunter rigged sloop at Teddington.It had a 4 foot iron bowsprit probably Edwardian.Obviously the family went through a good period as we towed the boat behind aa bright yellow Rolls Royce.The boat was stll in the family but was converted to Bermudian for sailin off east Wittering,obviously family fortune had waned as we now had a Morris Minor......
 
Age about 10, on holiday in Scotland. The B&B we stayed at had a wonderful old rowing boat which we took out on the loch at Ullapool.

Fishing was too easy. It felt as if the mackerel were jumping into the boat rather than waiting to get caught on the line. In addition to that, the dolphin were playing with us. They swam under the boat, gently nudging it as they went by.

That's when I got my taste for the water.
 
mogy said:
must of been in the late fifties,father began a quest for a boat ,first in boatyard at Kingston then buying a 15 foot gunter rigged sloop at Teddington.It had a 4 foot iron bowsprit probably Edwardian.Obviously the family went through a good period as we towed the boat behind aa bright yellow Rolls Royce.The boat was stll in the family but was converted to Bermudian for sailin off east Wittering,obviously family fortune had waned as we now had a Morris Minor......
Click to expand...

I recall that in those days, a secondhand Roller was actually pretty cheap. Something to do with rich people wanting new ones, and the running costs making them unattractive if you weren't rich! I recall one time - probably in the 60s - when we had a breakdown with our caravan and had to spend the night at a place in Lancashire run by a very interesting old character. He had a VAST collection of old Rolls-Royces, and he reckoned that they were cheaper to buy than most run of the mill cars. He also reckoned they were the hardest cars around to work on - he remarked that Rolls-Royce didn't care if a bolt could only be tightened a sixth of a turn at a time, if that was what the engineering required - they just put an apprentice on it!

Your Morris Minor just might have cost more than the Roller!
 
Sitting on the bow of my grandpa's boat on the way to Cowes, my brother and I either side of the anchor, hoping that each wave would be the one that was big enough to get our dangling feet wet.

Climbing the huge distance up to the forehatch on the same boat to play "tank commander" sticking out of it (I'm sure it was actually no higher than any other forehatch!)

Getting cold in a Wayfarer and being put to bed under the foredeck, on top of the buoyancy tank there. Probably the reason my brother and I's dinghy-sailing kit was soon augmented with heavy greasy white wool knitted jumpers that were probably proof against bullets let alone cold.

The prehistoric yellow rubber lifejacket that my grandpa dragged out for me to wear on his boat before I could swim properly. It had a metal zip up the front that had rusted into a rigid bar. The gas cylinder was in a similar state, and I don't think anyone ever told me what to pull to set it off (it certainly wouldn't have been an automatic!).

The gimballed whisky-tumbler-holders in the wheelhouse. Just a small thing that fascinated me.

Learning to row in my other grandparents' plastic dinghy. And my brother trying hard but pulling with each hand alternately instead of together :D

Pete
 
Chugging up and down the Boating Lake in Goodrington with dad pretending he was captain of the Queen Mary.:)

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AntarcticPilot said:
I recall that in those days, a secondhand Roller was actually pretty cheap. Something to do with rich people wanting new ones, and the running costs making them unattractive if you weren't rich! I recall one time - probably in the 60s - when we had a breakdown with our caravan and had to spend the night at a place in Lancashire run by a very interesting old character. He had a VAST collection of old Rolls-Royces, and he reckoned that they were cheaper to buy than most run of the mill cars. He also reckoned they were the hardest cars around to work on - he remarked that Rolls-Royce didn't care if a bolt could only be tightened a sixth of a turn at a time, if that was what the engineering required - they just put an apprentice on it!

Your Morris Minor just might have cost more than the Roller!
Click to expand...

Thats interesting would account for the apparition.I suspect my father was an introvert withe an extrovert wanting to get out!!
 
First trip

Oct 29 1932.
Embarked at half term with father, then skipper of the herring drifter "Mons Boys", rigged as a bald-headed dandy ketch.
Was seasick, the only time in my life this happened.
We caught 65 cran of herring which we sold off at 12/6 a cran.
My mother didn't know I'd gone.
Harsh words were spoken.
I got hooked.
 
AntarcticPilot said:
I remember being terrified when my Dad took us out to sail!

I was about 6 at the time!
Click to expand...

That's encouraging.

So being terrified of sailing at the age of 6 didn't put you off boating, and later you actually started enjoying it.

That gives me some hope that our 5 year old daughter who doesn't like sailing with us, might come to like boating as she gets older.
 
robp said:
in a non structured manner! What are yours?
Click to expand...

Aged about 6 or 7, Father decided to buy a gunter-rigged Skipper 12.

I remember the first launch from Barrfields at Largs, followed by rather more frequent inshore launches at Loch Ronald (caravan holiday, two towing trips) & Castle Semple Loch - on my first solo outing, the lower rudder pintle snapped and the rescue boat towed me back in...

Other memories:
No purchase on the vang, and if you cranked it over, then the gunwale would go under and water would get in via the rowlock and Dad would get really annoyed at having to balance the boat upside down to try to drain it out.
Horrid H-H foam LJ.
Lack of a horse for the (off-centre) mainsail meant that we were slower on port tack.

<reflective> He's 83 now; I must fly him down for a sail on *my* boat (bought when I was 38 - I got into big boats late, after (grand)children) before it's too late. </reflective>
 
My first voyage, age six, at trip round the headland in a car inner tube: got a wet arse, then a bright red one when they caught up with me. My old mate was born between the wars, they used to cut a tea chest diagonally from the top down and join the halves to make a canoe.
 
Sailing in a Laser 2 with my father at Hunstanton on a pretty breezy day at about the age of 8..... as we approached the shore dead downwind, with quite a sea breaking, I jumped off.... leaving him single handing a boat in white water with all the sails up and screeching along.... don't think he appreciated it!... we still laugh about it now when it comes up in conversation.
 
Early 1950's, Father's friend had an engineless Thornycroft air/sea rescue launch, Fidelity, moored in Conwy. The smell of varnish (and mould), the dark oily engine room, the wheel to sheer her in the tide, all the levers and gauges; magic to a ten year old.
And the Harbour Master, Ben Craven, who chain-smoked 'Craven A' and didn't complain much when I broke the shaft coupling on his varnished launch by thrusting the gear lever into ahead instead of gently engaging the gear, and collecting mussels off the rocks at Bodlondeb Point just inshore of the big motor yacht anchored there, and the summer lights on the suspension bridge long before the concrete arch and, and,.......
 
Learning to sail two up aged eight on Nairobi dam in the late 70's. Being hoicked out every time we capsized and hosed down with fresh water so we didnt get Bilharzia. The other side of the lake was a huge Shanty town, the lake was thier bath! made for intresting viewing!
 
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