Cloona
Active member
I am doing this post as I always said I would - and given that a full-time yachting journalist (Mr. Jermain) was man enough to 'fess up here recently it only seems right that this ungainly display of foolishness be shared in order to help others avoid both their own blushes and the inconvienience to others caused by incompetence.
Cloona was finally in good shape and we had made enough modest expeditions for "the Bruv" to feel his confidence rising to the point where he could take her out as Skipper.
So we arranged that I would be crew and "the Bruv" would be in sole charge and skipper the vessel for the day. And so it was we made our way out of Portsmouth Harbour and spent the afternoon steering courses across the Solent. We were on our way back to Pompey, heading in from Gilkicker, mid-a very smug - conversation regarding our much improved prowess when she bumped and bumped and shivers up my spine ran aground.
It was the lowest tide for 22 years and a glance at the chart showed the Hamilton bank under our keel.
A yacht stood by and then the Queens Harbour Masters launch came out and towed us off (thank goodness for a sansom post) and into deeper water.
We sail without VHF so the initial questions were shouted -
"How many on board"
"Any injuries."
"Are you breaking up."
"Are you making any water."
We were all OK and the wind and sea were moderate and the
boat was fine. Given a bit of a seaway the steel bilge plates would be driven up through her plywood hull and she would founder quickly enough.
It was time for BIG thanks to the volunteers on the QHM launch and time to reflect on the overeaching foolishness of it all.
Cloona was finally in good shape and we had made enough modest expeditions for "the Bruv" to feel his confidence rising to the point where he could take her out as Skipper.
So we arranged that I would be crew and "the Bruv" would be in sole charge and skipper the vessel for the day. And so it was we made our way out of Portsmouth Harbour and spent the afternoon steering courses across the Solent. We were on our way back to Pompey, heading in from Gilkicker, mid-a very smug - conversation regarding our much improved prowess when she bumped and bumped and shivers up my spine ran aground.
It was the lowest tide for 22 years and a glance at the chart showed the Hamilton bank under our keel.
A yacht stood by and then the Queens Harbour Masters launch came out and towed us off (thank goodness for a sansom post) and into deeper water.
We sail without VHF so the initial questions were shouted -
"How many on board"
"Any injuries."
"Are you breaking up."
"Are you making any water."
We were all OK and the wind and sea were moderate and the
boat was fine. Given a bit of a seaway the steel bilge plates would be driven up through her plywood hull and she would founder quickly enough.
It was time for BIG thanks to the volunteers on the QHM launch and time to reflect on the overeaching foolishness of it all.