How can I find a mature lady to come sailing with me?

[colingh]

Please thank your Better Half for her interest in jumping ship, but by my ethics, I would have to tell her that I'm flattered but could not welcome her on board. Or perhaps I’d remain silent about the Webasto heater and the way that the boat’s foam lining which makes it un-sinkable, also acts as a very effective insulation, so warming up the cabin to something over 30°C on a cold day is possible. (Going below into such tropical dry air after mooring the boat on a cold wet windy day, is a luxury with astonishing moral raising properties, because one can just relax and let the warmth soak in. It is all the better for the fact that where the boat has cruised around the Baltic area, it is only at the very end of the cruise that the weather might get cold enough to think of doing this. Being an uncommon experience makes it more enjoyable than it being constantly necessary. )

Her desire to have a shower on board my boat is possible, but barely practicable because too much stuff such as spare bog rolls and oilies etc would have to be shifted out of the heads compartment. Then having done so, she would find that there is no hot water tank on board, just cold pressurised water. The subsequent dismay and disappointment means that she would be better advised not to try jumping ship in the first place.

Colin.

 

[colingh]

Thanks for your suggestions. Everybody is different in what they can do. My wife could be given the tiller at a moment’s notice and keep the boat sailing. However she seldom thought to adjust the sails unless a strong gust of wind hit the boat, and paying out the main-sheet would stop it heeling uncomfortably. Despite any number of offers on days of flat calm weather that she took the boat into a marina berth, she refused to have a go, knowing that she could not do it as well as I can. I think also that she knew her spatial awareness would have been severely challenged when manoeuvring the boat in a confined space, and she feared doing any damage to the boat.

We were sailing our 22ft trail-sail boat along the Belgian coast back to Ramsgate about 15 years ago when I told her that I’d completely forgotten how to work out a passage plan using the tides to get us to the next harbour the following day. She would have to work out everything. Much grumbling later she did the calcs with little difficulty, and my ‘amnesia’ continued for the whole of the next day, much to her irritation. We duly arrived where needed to be when we needed to be there.

As far as I was concerned, the exercise proved to me that she understood my passage planning calcs when I automatically asked her to check them for errors. As far as she was concerned, she’d shown that she could do the sums and would never do them again, despite my occasional suggestion. Her preferred role was to check my calcs.

It was a matter of resentment that she could not get the main sail up on our 28ft boat, and was reduced to tailing the winch and operating the clutch whilst used the winch handle. This resentment showed in the way that she enjoyed being able to raise the main sail of our 22ft boat unaided. Were I do it, she would complain that I’d taken ‘her’ job. It was the same with anchoring. She liked to drop and recover the 22ft yacht’s anchor, and did not like the fact that I had to get the 28ft boat’s anchor out of the locker and rig it ready to be dropped by her, because she was not strong enough.

I agree that swapping activities is a good idea, but my wife had a clear sense of what she would do and what she would not do. There was no point in having a ‘domestic’ about it when we worked as an effective team, knowing without needing to talk, what each other would do.

The difference in our strengths and abilities to devise alternative ways of doing things under pressure if the first way didn’t work, had another effect on the splitting of activities. If I fell over-board, the probability of her being able to recover me was low. If she fell over-board, it was probable that whilst I might trash the gel coat or do something else equally unusual, I would get her back on board even if she was unconscious. Therefore, when going forwards was both necessary and hazardous, she insisted in doing so, knowing that I would do everything possible to make the trip as easy as possible in ways that she wouldn’t think about if left in the cockpit to control the boat.

The point I think I’m making is that two people learn to work together in a manner that suits them, and probably not suit others. For example, during the entire 43½ years of our marriage, I was never allowed to be anything more than a visitor into ‘her kitchen’, and it was only on Shrove Tuesdays that was I allowed to cook pancakes, simply because I could toss them and she could not. Her clear self-identity or role as a wife extended to when were on the boat, where everything to do with food was done by her. (All I did was carry her super-market purchases back to the boat whilst she carried nothing unless it was a light bag.)

Although this comment has nothing to do with my search for a lady sailing companion, I now have to learn to cook meals for the first time in my life. Hopefully, by the time my search succeeds, I’ll be able to share the activity without dismay.

Colin.

 

[JimC]

Although this comment has nothing to do with my search for a lady sailing companion, I now have to learn to cook meals for the first time in my life. Hopefully, by the time my search succeeds, I’ll be able to share the activity without dismay.

I hope you will be successful in your quest but, in the meantime, there's no harm in cultivating a degree of self-sufficiency: not only domestic but social, nautical & contentment-wise. I sailed and cruised alone for years and may do so again. I've propped up the bar in a solitary corner of many a harbourside pub. It's not ideal but it's better than stopping at home. It's a great thing if you can learn to be content with your own company IMHO.

 

[Seajet]

Colin,

I have found most females, unless you are tremendously lucky and get a hard as nails, world adventurer type ( who if you're like me, might be difficult to keep up with ! ) like a tiny bit of comfort, as do I in my 50's.


Good berth cushions make a world of difference, and these things on my boat have been commented on as a great thing by chums who run adventure hoidays on sparsely equipped boats !

Just remember sailing is supposed to be fun; when I took a girlfriend ( who I wish I'd married, ho hum...) to the Beaulieu river, she said " you mean we could just anchor and stop here ?! "

We did and had a very peaceful night, while watching out for the wildlife and the land breeze.

 

[alant]

I may be wrong, but "they mention that their wives don't like sailing with them.", may be nothing to do with dislike of sailing!

 

[Seashoreman]

Personally I would not wait until you find a female partner until you go sailing again. I had the time of my life sailing with a 'bloke' who was going through difficult divorce at the same time as me. We took his Westerly Fulmar to Holland and the Baltic, raced on the East Coast, drank abit, laughed alot, shared abit of male bonding. I can assure you, nothing wierd in that. I am not the one to give any great advice on relationships, but, I know women can be put off by 'needy types'. Get the boat afloat and as the old saying goes 'a woman in every port'?
I am in hope of a relationship with a women, with young children, who I could never imagine would take up the sailing life. I live in hope, but please....get on with life.
My point being: there is nothing to be concerned about sailing with 'bloke' friends. It may even attract the right women into your life?
Just a thought.

 

[colingh]

Thanks for the observation about my chances of finding a lady sailing companion. I suspect that any woman who is as hard as nails would find my idea of sailing utterly boring. When my friends say that I'm so brave to sail a 28ft yacht to a distant place like Helsinki, I reply that I'm far from brave. All my wife & I ever did was to sail round the next headland, and then see another one to catch our curiosity.

If you sail 25 miles each day, after ten days you've covered 250 miles. With a whole summer of short hops between one interesting place and another, the distances covered sound impressive. The reality is that when comfort comes above all other things, the boat is never worked hard and an 'agreeable passage' is done at whatever speed the boat feels like doing whilst heeling gently.

Colin.

Colin,

I have found most females, unless you are tremendously lucky and get a hard as nails, world adventurer type ( who if you're like me, might be difficult to keep up with ! ) like a tiny bit of comfort, as do I in my 50's.

Good berth cushions make a world of difference, and these things on my boat have been commented on as a great thing by chums who run adventure hoidays on sparsely equipped boats !
QUOTE]

 

[Scotty_Tradewind]

I reply that I'm far from brave. All my wife & I ever did was to sail round the next headland, and then see another one to catch our curiosity.

+1
It needn't be all slog.... I've done both and in my later years I'm becoming far more content to do as colin suggests.

 

[Seajet]

Colin,

sailing is supposed to be FUN !

Those who turn it into an SBS style endurance test have got it seriously wrong...

Andy

 

[colingh]

My point was that what some people consider to be 'fun' is, to other people, a frightening experience. It gets all the more frightening if the person controlling the boat dismisses expressions of fear as being unimportant.

Hence my view that a good skipper should always conduct the boat's passage in such a manner as the least confident person on board has no cause for concern.

Colin.

Colin,

sailing is supposed to be FUN !

Those who turn it into an SBS style endurance test have got it seriously wrong...

Andy

 

[colingh]

Thanks for your encouragement. It seems to be based more on optimism than reality.

I've been totally honest because any relationship built on half truths is bound to fail. It would not be good for either party if the failure occured when anchored in some remote place whilst waiting out foul weather. Singing one's vertues and ignoring weaknesses is like putting to sea with a boat that has bright new paint covering cracks and holes in the hull. A scruffy sound hull is better.

However, in the case of finding a congenial companion, honesty of the 'warts and all' policy does not seem to be the best policy.

I'm stuck for a better idea though.

Colin

Colin,

your has been a refreshingly honest thread, and it's a subject which one way or another affects many people.

I send my hearty best wishes for your success in finding a companion, I'm sure she's out there !

 

[William_H]

We run a little introduction sailing school at our club. There are usually one or more mature ladies often single that just have a hankering to sail.
Indeed we just started a new course yesterday (southern summer). Not much help to you but you might find in doing a sail training course that you meet like minded ladies. Of course you must start with short day trips and just because they like sailing or think they would like sailing does not mean they will find you a good companion but you have to try. get into a club is my suggestion.
good luck olewill

 

[colingh]

We run a little introduction sailing school at our club. There are usually one or more mature ladies often single that just have a hankering to sail.
Indeed we just started a new course yesterday (southern summer). Not much help to you but you might find in doing a sail training course that you meet like minded ladies. Of course you must start with short day trips and just because they like sailing or think they would like sailing does not mean they will find you a good companion but you have to try. get into a club is my suggestion.
good luck olewill

Thanks for the positive suggestion. There is one small problem, I live on the hills in the middle of northern England, about as far as one can get from the sea. The nearest sea sailing clubs are about three hours drive away from my home and are mainly limited by tides as to when boats can put to sea. The distances are too far to travel on the off chance that if I stand around loose-ending for a few weeks, I'll meet a nice widow with a desire to go sailing.

As an aside, I could add that I had a summer job in Brixham when I was 18, teaching peope how to sail dinghies on the sea. I've learnt a lot more in the following 50 years, so don't think that I need to go on an introduction to sailing course.

I'm sorry to sound negative in response to your positive suggestion.

Colin.

 

[Sans Bateau]

Colin, I dont want you to think I'm being insensitive here, but you do seem to appreciate honesty. As you say, Leeds is as about as far from the sea as you can get, it is unlikely you are going to meet someone local. I'm afraid you are going to have to make that effort to travel to meet someone or to join a sailing club, it's the only way.

 

[Bobobolinsky]

As it happens, I know a couple who met through the internet. She lived in Canada, they met and very shortly afterwards, they married and sailed off together. She went to Canada and liquidated her house and posessions, still sailing.

Just reminds me of the old joke

Man would like to meet sailing lady with boat, please send photo of boat.

Probably a few of us singletons on here

 

[NOHOH]

This thread is four years old. Does anyone know if the story had a happy ending?

 

[bigwow]

This thread is four years old. Does anyone know if the story had a happy ending?

I hope he met the lady of his dreams and sailed off into the wide blue yonder :encouragement:

 

[Seajet]

Me too, I really hope so.

It would be great to hear there was / is a happy ending. :encouragement:

 

[NOHOH]

He was logged on to the forum earlier today....but no sign of him posting a reply

 

[colingh]

Does this story have a happy ending – you can judge for yourself.

After my wife died, the boat spent 18 months in the German shed, and then in 2014, it came back to England. One male friend sailed – mainly motored due to a lack of wind – with me as far as Lelystad in Holland. I then waited there for about 10 days under a baking hot sun until another friend joined me for the rest of the trip, which started with the ‘midnight convoy’ through Amsterdam.

The winds were mainly fair under grey skies and my friend enjoyed rendering the auto-pilot redundant as we made our way along the Belgian coast, back to England. The first sunshine that really appeared was when we got into UK waters, and we were wafted up the Gull Stream by a warm gentle beam wind providing the sort of conditions that every sailor dreams of. I hoped it was a good omen.

The boat fetched up in Lowestoft as her new home port, chosen because it is the nearest place to Leeds with 24 hour tidal access. However, as a base, this proved to be less than ideal because all I could do was day-sail, with a passage dictated by the need to avoid the sand banks created by the strong tidal coastal currents and a need to be back in time for the infrequent scheduled bridge openings.

The first decent weather the following year was promised to start on Saturday June 7th, so I decided to be a bit more adventurous and use the promised week or more of fair weather to do something more satisfying than sailing in circles, avoiding sand banks. However, I was long over-due for an inspection of my colon for polyps when, two days before setting off to the boat, the NHS telephoned me to ask if I’d mind having the inspection done that week-end by a sub-contractor using the hospital’s kit that was otherwise idle over the week-ends.

Obviously, I agreed and asked for the earliest appointment so that, after half an hour’s discomfort, I still could head off to the boat and a week’s cruise. Some people elect for sedation when a camera is passed along their colon. I prefer to rely on fascination rather than sedation and watched the monitor intently, looking for polyps or anything else of interest. I wasn’t impressed by the moonlighting consultant doing the inspection. At one point I saw a tiny white mark that he’d ignored, so asked “What the heck’s that?” He moved the camera back to it and the close-up view revealed a microscopic dot of red blood.

I asked if it was an ulcer, and when he said ‘No’ my automatic response to bad news by finding some sort of humour kicked in and, thinking about the normal contents of a colon, came up with the thought ‘Oh, shit !’ It didn’t hurt when he used tattoos to mark where the tiny tumour was, but I was far from impressed by the way he did it.

Clearly my anticipated cruise had to be abandoned in favour of studying colon cancer, using on-line teaching aids for student doctors. The tumour was somewhere between three and five years away from being large enough to cause any symptoms or for me to worry about survival statistics. This knowledge gave me the satisfaction a few days later when I met a surgeon, and watched him nearly fall off his chair with surprise when I calmly opened the conversation by saying that I’d got a small tumour, and asked what he could do about it. With me clearly up to speed on the whole topic, and far from worried because of the tiny size, the conversation was confined to the ‘what to do about it’ question, which was to chop out a load of my colon three weeks later.

I’d been trying all the on-line dating sites suggested by the kind people who responded to my original posting as well as others, but had little success until I was contacted by a widow who lives near to the A1, some 60 miles away from me and beside my ‘commuting route’ to the boat. Anticipating that nothing much would come from meeting her, I arranged to do so on my way back from the boat after a ‘pre operation’ visit. It turned out that we got on well and agreed to meet again, after the colon removal operation.

Having large bits of one’s guts removed is supposed to be serious surgery, but I was lucky with the surgeon allocated to operate on me. The speed of my recovery impressed me, implying minimal damage. However, I’d been right to be less than favourably impressed by the competence of the moonlighting consultant’s marking techniques. Three weeks after the operation, the surgeon had the ultra embarrassing experience of telling me that, instead of removing the tumour, all he’d removed was a length of colon with a large polyp in it. The remaining colon still had the tumour growing in it. Having seen what he’d had to deal with, it didn’t surprise me greatly and I felt a bit sorry for him and the way that his perfect record was spoilt by the less than competent moonlighting consultant.

Fortunately, I would have to recover from his first foray into my guts before he next fossicked around inside me, and the sailing season would be over before he could chop out some more of my colon. (His promise that I wouldn’t miss it turned out to be totally correct, leaving me wondering why I’d ever bothered to grow the two thirds that he ended up removing.) The ‘delay whilst recovering’ and a need to return to the hospital for a couple of ‘hunt the missing tumour’ investigations meant that I only managed to have a couple of days in Lowestoft and enjoy some more of the less-than-satisfying sailing around the sand banks.

The following Easter, a friend abandoned his own boat to come with me as I moved the boat to Ipswich. The ten miles of the River Orwell between her new berth and the open sea was ideal to develop my confidence with single handed sailing techniques. It also means that I don’t have to wait for a good weather forecast to coincide with tides that are suitable for day sailing out of Lowestoft.

I’ve accepted the financial ‘hit’ of it costing about £4,500 a year to keep the boat there rather than the €940 that it cost when the boat was based in Germany.

However, my involvement with the lady who lives beside the A1 imposes limitations with the amount of time spent on the boat. Her late husband was a keen lake sailor and her son has a frequently used Folkboat on the South Coast. But, she’s not keen on sailing. The one week that she spent on board was during what turned out to be the best week of last summer’s weather, but even so, it saw her getting nervous when the boat left the river and crossed over Dovercourt Bay with a warm Bft 3 beam wind from the west, and waves all of six or nine inches high. The rest of the micro-cruise was a success, but mainly because of a lack of wind and hot sunshine every day.

My one attempt at actually going somewhere in August ended when I got to Ramsgate and found that Calais marina was closed. There was just time to buy a chart to get me to Boulogne instead, before listening to the BBC changing the promised fair weather for the next five days into a promise of it blowing old boots in two days time for at least 3 days, if not longer. The American generated forecasts were more accurate, because after returning to Ipswich, it was annoying to find that the clement weather they had promised actually lasted long enough for me to have got to Boulogne and back to Ipswich with time to spare.

So that’s how the story has progressed. I didn’t sail off over the horizon with a congenial female person on board, and be last reported seen in some distant harbour with a smile on my face. The best that I’ve done is a single-handed 5 day cruise, a poor substitute to reaching Oslo five years earlier.

The boat is in Ipswich, a 4½ hour car drive away and, despite my expecting to do otherwise; I’ve got involved with a lady who does not like sailing. This means that I can’t now get involved with any other person of the female gender and the chances of meeting anybody who would like to make the occasional passage with me are low. It also means that I’ll have to find ways of splitting my free time between the lady and the boat. It would be easier if there was such a thing as an accurate weather forecast for the whole summer that would allow pre-planning about how to make the best use of the tides many months ahead.

The one unarguably positive thing is that my ‘good health’ is official as of November last year when the NHS had finished examining my body more than just thoroughly, and reported that nothing of concern was found. It does mean that I can now think about making one or two longer cruises this summer. Last summer I began to wonder if there was a conspiracy between the NHS and Met Office that ensured I was only free to go off sailing when the weather was foul. This year it seems reasonable to hope that there is no such conspiracy.

If anybody who reads this account about my current circumstances does feel like perhaps joining me, obviously I would welcome the opportunity to take the thought further.

Colin.