drewstwos
Well-Known Member
Hi All
To gain Kwackers forgivness here. The pictures were grabbed from an old 8 mm cine film, so please excuse the quality. digital cameras, what are they please. !!!
Gather round again and read about a tale of triumph over adversity.
Now, many years ago when most of you lot were just a twinkle in your fathers eyes, I was out there on the foaming brine having adventures.
This is a tale of a time when I was moving my yacht FROLIC from Poole to Liverpool.
Now in those far off days such things as radios, echosoundes, chartplotters, GPS, autopilot, SatNav were a figment of science fiction. We did things the old fashioned way using tools like a chart, rulers (Parallel) dividers, and a log line. Yes one of those spinnig lines out astern that gave you a vague idea of how far you had gone through the water, not over the ground.
The boat FROLIC was built by Thomas' of Falmouth in 1907. Pitch pine on oak. She was 50 ft LOA excludinbg the bowsprit. by 10ft Beam by 8 ft draft and weighd in at just 20 tons TM.
Originally she was powered by a 1927 Kelvin Petrol/parafin sleeve valve engine. This you had to swing with a handle leaning in throungh a hatch in the toilet compartment. Every hour of running you had to pump oil into the sump through a fixed brass pump. I forget how many strokes you had to give it, something to do with a total loss systyem. I remember the cylinders were lubricated by a splash as the big ends hit the oil in the sump, so you had to have enough oil there or the engione would sieze up. However that was changed for a flat twin Coventry Climax diesel that ran for an hour on a pint and pushed Frolic along nicely at 7 kts.
When I bought her she was Gaff rigged with double ended halyards , and a topsail which was a sod to set. So I had her changed to a Bermudian Sloop, which was a lot easier to handle and had little or no effect on her performance. .
On this trip howevr, I had had to bring some friends with me as crew, my usual being unavalable at the time. I had done voyages with just two, me and another well experienced chap, but doing watch and watch is a bit of a bind.
In their defence I will admit that they were small boat sailors and did have some idea of what it was all about. BUT they were more used to tending lines from the cockpit, not on a heaving fore deck in a force 8.
So, on with the tale. As there was no wind to speak of I decided to motor along. We left Poole in bright sunshine, passed throug the narrows and turned to starboard to head off in the general direction of Lands End.
An hour or so later the engine coughed , splutterd and stopped. Even in those days Crab Pots were a menace, yes even in the 1950s, and sure enough we had caught one. Being well off land all was well for now, so with a bit of hanging over the side being held firmly in place by the belt and with the aid of a boathook the line was snagged, heaved in and cut. But the prop was well and truly stuck.
The wind had picked up a bit by then and so had the swell, so I thought, OK, we will sail to the next sheltered bay, anchor and fix it.
"Hoist the main" I yelled in my best captains manner. A crew member who shall remain naimless lept to obey. As he was attaching the main halyard to the head of the sail the boat gave a lurch, the shackle was jerked out of his hand and up it shot to the masthead. Now there was not enough wind to just use the headsails, so what to do. I was not going up thet 55 ft mast in that swell, neither was I going to get it done by someone else.
It could have been a subject on the Forum as a 'What now skipper' sort of problem. My solution was to drop the anchor quick style as the wind was now tad onshore, and being powerless on a lee shore is not one of my farvourite places.
Eventually it bit and there we were heaving and rolling like a pig. And that boat could roll with 7 tons of iron on the keel.
The total safety inventory consisted of 1 smoke flare. It was hanging on the boom crutch. I read the instructions. But would it work?
The answer seemed to be try it to find out. I tore off the tab and with a murmured prayer heaved it into the sea. Seconds later beight orange smoke poured from it and drifted away down wind in a gathering cloud.
It stopped, as did my heart, but some minutes that seemed like hours later I saw a boat in the distance heading our way. Through the binoculars, (Yes I did have a pair, not a telescope let it be said) I could see it was the local lifeboat. Our signal had been seen on land and a rescue was on its way.
To say I was somewhat embarrased would be an understatement. A long line was attached and after a long time heaving in the anchor, as the winch was one of those push pull hand balling things we got under way.
It took two hours to get back to Poole where we were the subject of many curious eyes. The donation to the RNLI was appreciated as were the glasses of something or other, I forget what.
On the way back the offending crew person (lets be PC) was essentially green. I did say that boat could roll. So to add to his lesson, when he was recovered I handed him the proverbial sharp knife and suggested he go over the side and free the prop.
It took him several dives, but free it he did. The remains in the bottle revived him.
In retrospect I suppose I should have had the main halyard attached, but as there was no wind, I had even left the sail cover on.
The next day we did go again, but with everything ready. The wind was fair and we had a really magnificent sail all the way to Land End. but there we met the mother of a real gale. How we got through that might be the subject of another tale of derring do.
I hope you have enjoyed this.
Drew.
To gain Kwackers forgivness here. The pictures were grabbed from an old 8 mm cine film, so please excuse the quality. digital cameras, what are they please. !!!
Gather round again and read about a tale of triumph over adversity.
Now, many years ago when most of you lot were just a twinkle in your fathers eyes, I was out there on the foaming brine having adventures.
This is a tale of a time when I was moving my yacht FROLIC from Poole to Liverpool.
Now in those far off days such things as radios, echosoundes, chartplotters, GPS, autopilot, SatNav were a figment of science fiction. We did things the old fashioned way using tools like a chart, rulers (Parallel) dividers, and a log line. Yes one of those spinnig lines out astern that gave you a vague idea of how far you had gone through the water, not over the ground.
The boat FROLIC was built by Thomas' of Falmouth in 1907. Pitch pine on oak. She was 50 ft LOA excludinbg the bowsprit. by 10ft Beam by 8 ft draft and weighd in at just 20 tons TM.
Originally she was powered by a 1927 Kelvin Petrol/parafin sleeve valve engine. This you had to swing with a handle leaning in throungh a hatch in the toilet compartment. Every hour of running you had to pump oil into the sump through a fixed brass pump. I forget how many strokes you had to give it, something to do with a total loss systyem. I remember the cylinders were lubricated by a splash as the big ends hit the oil in the sump, so you had to have enough oil there or the engione would sieze up. However that was changed for a flat twin Coventry Climax diesel that ran for an hour on a pint and pushed Frolic along nicely at 7 kts.
When I bought her she was Gaff rigged with double ended halyards , and a topsail which was a sod to set. So I had her changed to a Bermudian Sloop, which was a lot easier to handle and had little or no effect on her performance. .
On this trip howevr, I had had to bring some friends with me as crew, my usual being unavalable at the time. I had done voyages with just two, me and another well experienced chap, but doing watch and watch is a bit of a bind.
In their defence I will admit that they were small boat sailors and did have some idea of what it was all about. BUT they were more used to tending lines from the cockpit, not on a heaving fore deck in a force 8.
So, on with the tale. As there was no wind to speak of I decided to motor along. We left Poole in bright sunshine, passed throug the narrows and turned to starboard to head off in the general direction of Lands End.
An hour or so later the engine coughed , splutterd and stopped. Even in those days Crab Pots were a menace, yes even in the 1950s, and sure enough we had caught one. Being well off land all was well for now, so with a bit of hanging over the side being held firmly in place by the belt and with the aid of a boathook the line was snagged, heaved in and cut. But the prop was well and truly stuck.
The wind had picked up a bit by then and so had the swell, so I thought, OK, we will sail to the next sheltered bay, anchor and fix it.
"Hoist the main" I yelled in my best captains manner. A crew member who shall remain naimless lept to obey. As he was attaching the main halyard to the head of the sail the boat gave a lurch, the shackle was jerked out of his hand and up it shot to the masthead. Now there was not enough wind to just use the headsails, so what to do. I was not going up thet 55 ft mast in that swell, neither was I going to get it done by someone else.
It could have been a subject on the Forum as a 'What now skipper' sort of problem. My solution was to drop the anchor quick style as the wind was now tad onshore, and being powerless on a lee shore is not one of my farvourite places.
Eventually it bit and there we were heaving and rolling like a pig. And that boat could roll with 7 tons of iron on the keel.
The total safety inventory consisted of 1 smoke flare. It was hanging on the boom crutch. I read the instructions. But would it work?
The answer seemed to be try it to find out. I tore off the tab and with a murmured prayer heaved it into the sea. Seconds later beight orange smoke poured from it and drifted away down wind in a gathering cloud.
It stopped, as did my heart, but some minutes that seemed like hours later I saw a boat in the distance heading our way. Through the binoculars, (Yes I did have a pair, not a telescope let it be said) I could see it was the local lifeboat. Our signal had been seen on land and a rescue was on its way.
To say I was somewhat embarrased would be an understatement. A long line was attached and after a long time heaving in the anchor, as the winch was one of those push pull hand balling things we got under way.
It took two hours to get back to Poole where we were the subject of many curious eyes. The donation to the RNLI was appreciated as were the glasses of something or other, I forget what.
On the way back the offending crew person (lets be PC) was essentially green. I did say that boat could roll. So to add to his lesson, when he was recovered I handed him the proverbial sharp knife and suggested he go over the side and free the prop.
It took him several dives, but free it he did. The remains in the bottle revived him.
In retrospect I suppose I should have had the main halyard attached, but as there was no wind, I had even left the sail cover on.
The next day we did go again, but with everything ready. The wind was fair and we had a really magnificent sail all the way to Land End. but there we met the mother of a real gale. How we got through that might be the subject of another tale of derring do.
I hope you have enjoyed this.
Drew.
) I felt I was 'there' as it were
