LizzyD
New member
/forums/images/graemlins/frown.gifWe had looked forward to this years summer holiday for ages. As it was my birthday in June, Bev bought me a new GPS for the boat which after much cursing and spitting, I managed to interface with the VHF so that if I ever have to press the red button, the Coastys will know where we are.
However, this year's holidays have been disastrous. Firstly, we were delayed because Bev had to work three of the first days of her summer annual (urgent tax returns and wages issues to sort I'm told) and the weather was looking more and more gloomier as I fought with fiddly wires behind the smallest bulkhead in the world. Still, by wednesday morning, my new GPS was up and running, along with a new electric bilge pump. Oh yes! That marked the end of sweating on the end of a Henderson pump everytime I went on board. Still, Lizzy managed to give me a nip on the finger which was the consequence of a cheap jubilee clip with really sharp edges.
By 10:00 Wednesday morning, the boat was loaded with bags, a snack for my lunch, and Kaiser the dog came too. Bev was going to meet me in Bristol, today's destination, by train after work to finally begin her holiday.
As I was letting the lines go at the club pontoon, I realised that this was only the third time I'd ever handled Lizzy alone, and as I left the pontoon to head for Cardiff Barrage without a hitch, I smugly decided to reward myself with a can of Strongbow once we were through the locks. (If you've read the latest views on drinking and sailing, don't worry. It didn't happen - read on.)
As I approached the Outer Wrack CMB just outside the Barrage, the wind was getting noticably stronger, but I still decided to put up the main sail. The genoa has a rip in it and is awaiting repair. It's been one of those jobs I've intended to do but haven't managed as yet. Under main alone, I battled for almost three hours to get to the River Avon. I was in 1.5 metre waves, with one or two coming over the bow. What was going on?!! This is supposed to be the month of July!! Under main alone, the boat behaved really badly and I decided that I was going to sort that headsail out as a matter of urgency. Can of Strongbow? I didn't dare leave the tiller.
As with most trips, I learn something and I'm not embarrassed to say that after 10 years of sailing, I'm still very much in the learning zone. This occasion meant that todays valuable lesson was to...
"MAKE SURE YOU FUEL UP BEFORE YOU LEAVE, YOU HALFWIT!"
I managed to get a good 5 litres of fuel into Lizzy before quickly fastening the filler cap. I got derv all over my hands which smells oh so nice in a heaving sea don't you think? Eventually, I dropped the main and at least had the good sense to be clipped on when I went forward to do it - and thank heavens for a tiller pilot. I don't know what I would have done without it. The trip up the Avon was uneventfull - until I got into the lock. Got through the lock OK, but was told that I couldn't progress beyond the Cumberland Basin because the traffic was too busy to open the swing bridge into the harbour. Even though I told them I was happy to wait, the Lock Keepers told me that by the time traffic allowed them to let me through, it would be well past their finishing time and they were off.
Still every cloud and all that, and once tied to the wall by the lock keepers hut and amazingly conveniently close to the Nova Scotia pub, Bev arrived and our fun time could begin. Once the dog was walked and emptied - then re-filled again with Pedigree Chum, Bev and I went to the Nova Scotia. Joy of joys, it's a dog friendly pub. Kaiser's holiday began too. I'm sure he quoted Homer Simpson with something like "Woohoo!"
We had three days in Bristol - well, in the Nova Scotia really. Don't they do nice food there? Seriously, it's worth a try next time you stay in Bristol. Whilst there we wandered around the shops (well, Bev did. Kaiser and I had to stay outside) and we ate like Kings - and Queens. I would highly recommend the Tikka Flame restaurant in the area behind Lloyds bar, near to the Lloyds TSB offices.
On the Saturday, we knew there was to be a jazz festival at Portishead Quay so in the morning we set off. Second lesson of the trip was around the corner for both of us. As we entered the lock in Bristol for the short journey down the river, we ensured that all fenders were out and importantly, that mooring lines were ready fore and aft, port and starboard. We used to make do with one line forward with Bev ready to rapidly change from one side to the other in the event of a last minute change of plan. Since this placed unneccessary pressure on her whilst Captain Bligh here offered advice at many decibels from the cockpit, we decided that two lines made life easier.
So off we go. The river ride was its usually sedate affair with plenty of room for three motor boats to pass us with a high spring tide. We waved at each other as one after another, the other boats passed us and we headed for the sea. Immediately after we passed under the M5 motorway bridge, we could feel the effect of the wind. The wind got stronger and stronger as we headed out to sea to make a quick run for Portishead. We could see bow waves on the motor boats and I hoped that they had opened their throttles for a speedy and fun filled ride. Then our turn came. Lizzy's bow smashed into each wave as we met them head on, and I increased the revs on the 13.5 hp Volvo to get us through this world of poo as fast as possible. I kept one eye on the echo, another on the waves, and I don't know where I got the other eyes from to watch Bev, Kaiser, the other boats, or to watch for anything coming into or out from Royal Portbury or Avon Docks!
We eventually got to a stage where we could pretty much put our backs to the waves to turn in for Portishead. The motorboats were ahead of us and we could slow up on the engine. Time to get the lines ready thank heavens. Then horror or horrors and a 50 megawatt swearing fit! The Port aft mooring line was trailing in the water behind us and in grave danger of getting well and truely wrapped around the prop. We weren't in the lock yet and there was plenty of scope for us to get neck deep into trouble. How did this disaster happen? Well, it's simple really. Lazyboy here hadn't bothered his asre (anag) to put the lines away - after all, we were only going around the corner.
In my 46 years on this earth, I've been on the receiving end of many a rollocking. From childhood into my working life I've met people who knew how to deliver a blistering dressing down, sometimes deserved, sometimes not so. But none of them, not a single one, compared to the almighty obllocking (anag - again) that I gave myself for being to stupid, thoughtless, lazy and complacent. Bev got the "look what could have happened" lecture which she readily accepted because I had held my hands up to this near miss, and neither of us will ever do that again.
So into Portishead with a quick thankyou to God under our breaths for a safe arrival, and as it was raining yet again, we sought refuge in the Plough which is dog friendly. To be honest, it is easier to be with a dog than a child as I don't think too many pubs are child friendly. I like to think that it's because my dog behaves better than some kids I've seen in pubs. Then again, I suppose that if you made a child lie down under the table whilst you fed it the occasional crisp, someone's bound to complain! (Only kidding.)
We had two days of weather that I cannot describe on here as the forum moderators would ban me for the language. Suffice to say it has probably been the worst weather I've ever experienced in a summer. The jazz festival was fairly well attended on the first night, but the music's just not to my taste, nor Bev's, nor Kaiser's. So, with the mutually agreed verdict of "pants", we left to go to the Plough. The next day, the weather deteriorated further and the jazz festival was cancelled. I must admit to feeling sorry for the organisers who had clearly gone to a lot of trouble oto make it a nice weekend. Thanks again weather gods! I had already made the unanimous decision that the boat was staying in Portishead, whatever the cost, until the weather got better. We were both deeply resentful of our climate and I was glad that we were able to enclose the cockpit in canvas panels that came with the boat which gave us more living space.
Later that evening, we walked to the sea front and noticed that the wind had dropped considerably. The marina staff told us that the wind would be easterly the next day and that was all the encouragement we needed. Following a trip to the Plough and Ghandi's tandoori, we got to bed early and planned to leave on the 10:00 lock out. I had a brief chat with Damo in the marina office before we left. (I still owe you a beer mate.)
Next day, I FUELLED THE BOAT and as we left the lock, I PUT ALL OF OUR LINES AWAY IN A LOCKER!!! I have since made a little check list of things to do before departing on a trip and a second one for arriving or closing at a destination. I'll get them laminated. Bev laughs at me for this bureaucracy, but if I remember becuase of a little laminated card, then it's all worthwhile.
The journey back to Cardiff was OK. We'd met a couple of blokes in the Plough who decided that they didn't like the Welsh and they also decided on our behalf that Welsh people didn't like them. This is the stuff of Bushtucker Trials if you get my meaning. I lived in Manchester for over a decade. My Father is English and my Mother is Welsh. We absolutely love visiting Bristol, Portishead and Watchet, as much as we do Swansea and Milford and we've always found people to be friendly wherever we've been. I think we'd just bumped into a couple of people who are genito-cerebally challenged, which was later confirmed when one of them kicked out of the Plough by the landlord. I'm delighted to report that everyone else we've met on our travels have been wonderful, including the motorboat people we met from Gloucester who had shared the wrath of the Bristol Channel with us.
Arrival in Cardiff was unremarkable, except that the schizophrenic weather had decided to be nice to us now that we'd abandoned our holiday and the sun came out to laugh at us. We went to Nando's in Cardiff Bay for comfort food - and comfort lager - and sat on the boat just enjoying the weather.
On returning to Cardiff Yacht Club we were told of several members who have had adventures at sea with one even being airlifted off his boat somewhere near Padstow. It made our experiences just outside Portishead seen like a tickle-fight by comparison.
And in my last paragraph, I get the chance to show off - and to show off large! We decided on the way back that the British weather is too unreliable for us to plan any decent long distance cruise. We wanted to do Lundy, Ireland or Padstow, but the furthest I got was Bristol (no disrespect meant, I love the place). So we agreed that next year, we'd stick two fingers to the environment and have a holiday somewhere abroad and somewhere warm. Bev loves Cyprus and I've never been, so I loosely agreed to give it a go. This morning she e-mailed me from work to tell me that she's booked for us to go to Hollywood in Los Angeles and then onto Hawaii for two weeks. (Excuse me whilst I grin like a Chinaman straining on the toilet!)
Please forgive my showing off, but I've been bursting to tell someone, so why not all of you.
I hope your sailing was better than mine.
Take care all.
Mike, Bev, Kaiser the Dog and Lizzy the boat.
However, this year's holidays have been disastrous. Firstly, we were delayed because Bev had to work three of the first days of her summer annual (urgent tax returns and wages issues to sort I'm told) and the weather was looking more and more gloomier as I fought with fiddly wires behind the smallest bulkhead in the world. Still, by wednesday morning, my new GPS was up and running, along with a new electric bilge pump. Oh yes! That marked the end of sweating on the end of a Henderson pump everytime I went on board. Still, Lizzy managed to give me a nip on the finger which was the consequence of a cheap jubilee clip with really sharp edges.
By 10:00 Wednesday morning, the boat was loaded with bags, a snack for my lunch, and Kaiser the dog came too. Bev was going to meet me in Bristol, today's destination, by train after work to finally begin her holiday.
As I was letting the lines go at the club pontoon, I realised that this was only the third time I'd ever handled Lizzy alone, and as I left the pontoon to head for Cardiff Barrage without a hitch, I smugly decided to reward myself with a can of Strongbow once we were through the locks. (If you've read the latest views on drinking and sailing, don't worry. It didn't happen - read on.)
As I approached the Outer Wrack CMB just outside the Barrage, the wind was getting noticably stronger, but I still decided to put up the main sail. The genoa has a rip in it and is awaiting repair. It's been one of those jobs I've intended to do but haven't managed as yet. Under main alone, I battled for almost three hours to get to the River Avon. I was in 1.5 metre waves, with one or two coming over the bow. What was going on?!! This is supposed to be the month of July!! Under main alone, the boat behaved really badly and I decided that I was going to sort that headsail out as a matter of urgency. Can of Strongbow? I didn't dare leave the tiller.
As with most trips, I learn something and I'm not embarrassed to say that after 10 years of sailing, I'm still very much in the learning zone. This occasion meant that todays valuable lesson was to...
"MAKE SURE YOU FUEL UP BEFORE YOU LEAVE, YOU HALFWIT!"
I managed to get a good 5 litres of fuel into Lizzy before quickly fastening the filler cap. I got derv all over my hands which smells oh so nice in a heaving sea don't you think? Eventually, I dropped the main and at least had the good sense to be clipped on when I went forward to do it - and thank heavens for a tiller pilot. I don't know what I would have done without it. The trip up the Avon was uneventfull - until I got into the lock. Got through the lock OK, but was told that I couldn't progress beyond the Cumberland Basin because the traffic was too busy to open the swing bridge into the harbour. Even though I told them I was happy to wait, the Lock Keepers told me that by the time traffic allowed them to let me through, it would be well past their finishing time and they were off.
Still every cloud and all that, and once tied to the wall by the lock keepers hut and amazingly conveniently close to the Nova Scotia pub, Bev arrived and our fun time could begin. Once the dog was walked and emptied - then re-filled again with Pedigree Chum, Bev and I went to the Nova Scotia. Joy of joys, it's a dog friendly pub. Kaiser's holiday began too. I'm sure he quoted Homer Simpson with something like "Woohoo!"
We had three days in Bristol - well, in the Nova Scotia really. Don't they do nice food there? Seriously, it's worth a try next time you stay in Bristol. Whilst there we wandered around the shops (well, Bev did. Kaiser and I had to stay outside) and we ate like Kings - and Queens. I would highly recommend the Tikka Flame restaurant in the area behind Lloyds bar, near to the Lloyds TSB offices.
On the Saturday, we knew there was to be a jazz festival at Portishead Quay so in the morning we set off. Second lesson of the trip was around the corner for both of us. As we entered the lock in Bristol for the short journey down the river, we ensured that all fenders were out and importantly, that mooring lines were ready fore and aft, port and starboard. We used to make do with one line forward with Bev ready to rapidly change from one side to the other in the event of a last minute change of plan. Since this placed unneccessary pressure on her whilst Captain Bligh here offered advice at many decibels from the cockpit, we decided that two lines made life easier.
So off we go. The river ride was its usually sedate affair with plenty of room for three motor boats to pass us with a high spring tide. We waved at each other as one after another, the other boats passed us and we headed for the sea. Immediately after we passed under the M5 motorway bridge, we could feel the effect of the wind. The wind got stronger and stronger as we headed out to sea to make a quick run for Portishead. We could see bow waves on the motor boats and I hoped that they had opened their throttles for a speedy and fun filled ride. Then our turn came. Lizzy's bow smashed into each wave as we met them head on, and I increased the revs on the 13.5 hp Volvo to get us through this world of poo as fast as possible. I kept one eye on the echo, another on the waves, and I don't know where I got the other eyes from to watch Bev, Kaiser, the other boats, or to watch for anything coming into or out from Royal Portbury or Avon Docks!
We eventually got to a stage where we could pretty much put our backs to the waves to turn in for Portishead. The motorboats were ahead of us and we could slow up on the engine. Time to get the lines ready thank heavens. Then horror or horrors and a 50 megawatt swearing fit! The Port aft mooring line was trailing in the water behind us and in grave danger of getting well and truely wrapped around the prop. We weren't in the lock yet and there was plenty of scope for us to get neck deep into trouble. How did this disaster happen? Well, it's simple really. Lazyboy here hadn't bothered his asre (anag) to put the lines away - after all, we were only going around the corner.
In my 46 years on this earth, I've been on the receiving end of many a rollocking. From childhood into my working life I've met people who knew how to deliver a blistering dressing down, sometimes deserved, sometimes not so. But none of them, not a single one, compared to the almighty obllocking (anag - again) that I gave myself for being to stupid, thoughtless, lazy and complacent. Bev got the "look what could have happened" lecture which she readily accepted because I had held my hands up to this near miss, and neither of us will ever do that again.
So into Portishead with a quick thankyou to God under our breaths for a safe arrival, and as it was raining yet again, we sought refuge in the Plough which is dog friendly. To be honest, it is easier to be with a dog than a child as I don't think too many pubs are child friendly. I like to think that it's because my dog behaves better than some kids I've seen in pubs. Then again, I suppose that if you made a child lie down under the table whilst you fed it the occasional crisp, someone's bound to complain! (Only kidding.)
We had two days of weather that I cannot describe on here as the forum moderators would ban me for the language. Suffice to say it has probably been the worst weather I've ever experienced in a summer. The jazz festival was fairly well attended on the first night, but the music's just not to my taste, nor Bev's, nor Kaiser's. So, with the mutually agreed verdict of "pants", we left to go to the Plough. The next day, the weather deteriorated further and the jazz festival was cancelled. I must admit to feeling sorry for the organisers who had clearly gone to a lot of trouble oto make it a nice weekend. Thanks again weather gods! I had already made the unanimous decision that the boat was staying in Portishead, whatever the cost, until the weather got better. We were both deeply resentful of our climate and I was glad that we were able to enclose the cockpit in canvas panels that came with the boat which gave us more living space.
Later that evening, we walked to the sea front and noticed that the wind had dropped considerably. The marina staff told us that the wind would be easterly the next day and that was all the encouragement we needed. Following a trip to the Plough and Ghandi's tandoori, we got to bed early and planned to leave on the 10:00 lock out. I had a brief chat with Damo in the marina office before we left. (I still owe you a beer mate.)
Next day, I FUELLED THE BOAT and as we left the lock, I PUT ALL OF OUR LINES AWAY IN A LOCKER!!! I have since made a little check list of things to do before departing on a trip and a second one for arriving or closing at a destination. I'll get them laminated. Bev laughs at me for this bureaucracy, but if I remember becuase of a little laminated card, then it's all worthwhile.
The journey back to Cardiff was OK. We'd met a couple of blokes in the Plough who decided that they didn't like the Welsh and they also decided on our behalf that Welsh people didn't like them. This is the stuff of Bushtucker Trials if you get my meaning. I lived in Manchester for over a decade. My Father is English and my Mother is Welsh. We absolutely love visiting Bristol, Portishead and Watchet, as much as we do Swansea and Milford and we've always found people to be friendly wherever we've been. I think we'd just bumped into a couple of people who are genito-cerebally challenged, which was later confirmed when one of them kicked out of the Plough by the landlord. I'm delighted to report that everyone else we've met on our travels have been wonderful, including the motorboat people we met from Gloucester who had shared the wrath of the Bristol Channel with us.
Arrival in Cardiff was unremarkable, except that the schizophrenic weather had decided to be nice to us now that we'd abandoned our holiday and the sun came out to laugh at us. We went to Nando's in Cardiff Bay for comfort food - and comfort lager - and sat on the boat just enjoying the weather.
On returning to Cardiff Yacht Club we were told of several members who have had adventures at sea with one even being airlifted off his boat somewhere near Padstow. It made our experiences just outside Portishead seen like a tickle-fight by comparison.
And in my last paragraph, I get the chance to show off - and to show off large! We decided on the way back that the British weather is too unreliable for us to plan any decent long distance cruise. We wanted to do Lundy, Ireland or Padstow, but the furthest I got was Bristol (no disrespect meant, I love the place). So we agreed that next year, we'd stick two fingers to the environment and have a holiday somewhere abroad and somewhere warm. Bev loves Cyprus and I've never been, so I loosely agreed to give it a go. This morning she e-mailed me from work to tell me that she's booked for us to go to Hollywood in Los Angeles and then onto Hawaii for two weeks. (Excuse me whilst I grin like a Chinaman straining on the toilet!)
Please forgive my showing off, but I've been bursting to tell someone, so why not all of you.
I hope your sailing was better than mine.
Take care all.
Mike, Bev, Kaiser the Dog and Lizzy the boat.
