clouty
New member
For those of you who crew.
What's the worst skiper you have ever sailed with? No names, no lawsuits.
To kick it off:
I came up to take my watch at 2am, as planned. A two handed passage to Falmouth from the Isle of Wight. We were two thirds of the way through Lyme Bay.
"I haven't bothered to plot our position, we can do that in the morning. It's too dark now. I have made a note of it on this scrap pad"
"So you just want me to record our position on that notebook?"
"Yes, and keep this course, steer 260. It will take us straight into Falmouth Harbour"
I look around, and see Start Point Light. To Port. A long way off still, I am glad to say. But what I do say is (because I am aware by now of his macho insecurities)
"Fine. I've got her. Your turn below. I'll call you at 5 unless I need you before that"
And he goes below.
I plot our position, set a course to go south of Start Point by 3 miles. Don't know the waters, see, so no clever stuff this time about inshore passages. Better angle off the wind, anyway. I alter sheets and course. He's fast asleep already. Thank goodness.
I call him for his watch at 5am. I get enormous grief for altering course, but by now, we are round Start.
A few disasters later we arrive in Falmouth. I am biting my tongue and just keeping shtum and safe.
We moor up, and I try to explain my concerns.
Rattles were thrown out of prams.
I took my kitbag, found the sailors mission, had a couple of beers and found out about the trains, and proceeded back to Shoreham
Instead of going by boat to Gibralter.
Lucky escape!
<hr width=100% size=1>clouty
What's the worst skiper you have ever sailed with? No names, no lawsuits.
To kick it off:
I came up to take my watch at 2am, as planned. A two handed passage to Falmouth from the Isle of Wight. We were two thirds of the way through Lyme Bay.
"I haven't bothered to plot our position, we can do that in the morning. It's too dark now. I have made a note of it on this scrap pad"
"So you just want me to record our position on that notebook?"
"Yes, and keep this course, steer 260. It will take us straight into Falmouth Harbour"
I look around, and see Start Point Light. To Port. A long way off still, I am glad to say. But what I do say is (because I am aware by now of his macho insecurities)
"Fine. I've got her. Your turn below. I'll call you at 5 unless I need you before that"
And he goes below.
I plot our position, set a course to go south of Start Point by 3 miles. Don't know the waters, see, so no clever stuff this time about inshore passages. Better angle off the wind, anyway. I alter sheets and course. He's fast asleep already. Thank goodness.
I call him for his watch at 5am. I get enormous grief for altering course, but by now, we are round Start.
A few disasters later we arrive in Falmouth. I am biting my tongue and just keeping shtum and safe.
We moor up, and I try to explain my concerns.
Rattles were thrown out of prams.
I took my kitbag, found the sailors mission, had a couple of beers and found out about the trains, and proceeded back to Shoreham
Instead of going by boat to Gibralter.
Lucky escape!
<hr width=100% size=1>clouty