Snowgoose-1
Well-known member
I only ask as I've had a few.
Or is it just me .
Normally after worse than expected weather.
Experiences ?
Or is it just me .
Normally after worse than expected weather.
Experiences ?
What experience made you think about giving up sailing ?
- Thread starter Snowgoose-1
- Start date
The Q
Well-known member
Nothing..
Baddox
Well-known member
Leaving a long wake of well fed fish.
dunedin
Well-known member
Mechanical breakdowns which curtail cruising, and associated large bills
D
Deleted member 478
Guest
A woman. And then I realised that marriage doesn't scare me, but divorce (and the resulting loss of my boat) terrifies me.
Chiara’s slave
Well-known member
Nothing to make us give up entirely, but the price of entering Cowes week has become almost unsustainable.
LittleSister
Well-known member
Getting the bills.
(And excessive maintenance that I'm ill equipped to do, but can't afford to pay someone else to do.)
(And excessive maintenance that I'm ill equipped to do, but can't afford to pay someone else to do.)
Baggywrinkle
Well-known member
Plenty has annoyed me, but nothing has made me want to give up. I think if anything will make me give up, it will be when there are too many people doing it and it loses the feeling of solitude, freedom, and adventure. I gave up driving for pleasure because the roads got too crowded, gave up snowboarding and motorcycling for the same reasons - queues and crowds. Mountain biking became an irritation with too many inexperienced twits on e-bikes up mountains and trails they had no business to be on.
Charter fleets choking anchorages and ports, and party flotillas will likely kill it off for me, unless I can find quieter parts of the world.
Charter fleets choking anchorages and ports, and party flotillas will likely kill it off for me, unless I can find quieter parts of the world.
Poignard
Well-known member
My last consultation with an orthopaedic surgeon. 
johnalison
Well-known member
I was surprised to find myself able to carry on after a month in hospital with my back 18 yrs ago, but nothing on the boat has made me think twice about it. I don’t believe that I have ever frightened myself, or my family.
Poignard
Well-known member
You did well. I had spinal surgery in 2012 and it gave me 12 more years of sailing. Now, at the age of 83, I can't have any more surgery and pain relieving injections haven't worked, so it's time to face reality, and so I have sold my boat.
I have been incredibly lucky to have been able to go on for so long.
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WoodyP
Well-known member
Lack of time to actually go away, and wife not interested.
veshengro
Well-known member
Not so much as give up sailing, but the single handed voyaging life I had been living for 17 years. Years spent between wandering in the Med and sailing home every year or so, and 2 Atlantic crossings, well one and a half because the first one I stuffed my boat on a reef in the Bahamas and had to fly home. Second one in my Nic 32 was a much more successful proper 'round trip'..
Thirteen years ago at nearly 68, I sailed from Falmouth as usual, bound for the Med and a winter in Greece.
Leaving Falmouth Bay in July, as always on a course to take me about halfway between the Isles of Scilly and Ushant.
About 10. Degrees West was the closest I ever got to Cape Finisterre, I never went into the Bay of Biscay but stayed well to the West for many reasons, shipping, inshore fishing, but all basically about sea room.
An escort and fine weather to start the voyage.
Just North of a point where Finisterre would lay abeam one of those Summer fogs that gather off the Northern Spanish Coast came down and set in and the wind died away completely, so I started the diesel..
Flat glassy calm, terrible visibility and at about 4 knots when there was an awful crash and the boat practically stopped dead in the water. Mast and rigging rattled and I looked astern to see something?? A wooden jetty, wooden cargo crate? whatever it was had negative buoyancy and covered in weed rolled just briefly to the surface before sinking.
The usual checks below showed all well, engine ran smoothly but I was uneasy with many hundreds of miles to go before landfall at Cape St Vincent, so for the first time ever I altered for Coruna.
Feeling my way into Coruna where I spent 2 days in the smart Marina there, checking as best I could without diving, for any underwater/prop/rudder damage.
I sailed quite satisfied that all was well. Sailed due West before turning South with about 75 miles sea room off the coast.
After some time the weather turned from a Northerly of about Force 4 to an increasing Northerly gale and I found myself running under reduced heads'l only. Pitch black and very big seas from astern, I sat tucked up in the cockpit watching the Hydrovane steer the Nic down the big seas. Some time after midnight with the tea flask empty I moved to the main hatch, slid it open and unclipped my life line. As I put one foot on the companion way top step the boat went violently hard to Port and fell on her side. My wet hands slipped on the hatch coaming and I fell head first into the cabin hitting the chart table with my face and landing om my left shoulder. I lay stunned, salt water poured down the hatch and soaked me. I scrambled up into the cockpit my mouth full of blood and in agony with my damaged shoulder.
To my horror I saw the top of the Hydrovane, the geared head, swaying from side to side. I could not believe that the stainless 12 mm bolts that I had used to fit the Vane had sheered, but the whole steering gear was swaying from side to side and I realised that if it ripped off the fibre glass transom we would almost certainly sink if the damage was severe enough.
What followed over the next few hours would take too long to explain here. Many attempts to drop a line down and 'lasso' the Hydrovane rudder to secure it, but with the boat plunging her bow and stern deep into the big seas it was impossible. I couldn't breath properly and my shoulder was agony but eventually I knew that in order to secure the rudder before it was torn off, I would have to go over the stern, so I rigged the boarding ladder over the stern.
Wearing a head torch and with a length of 10mm line and honestly quite terrified I climbed over the stern only to be immediately submerged up to my shoulders as the Nic plunged her stern into the sea.
Holding on with one hand and being dunked a few times I managed to pass the ropes end through the aperture on the top of the
Hydrovane rudder. I fell over the rail back on board.
The next couple of hours were spent trying to tame the wildly swaying steering gear in pitch darkness and huge breaking seas.
As dawn broke, this was the scene...
The massive seas of the dark hours had died away..
My Spanish Windlass was holding and the steering gear moved just a fraction.
I plotted a course to the nearest port of safety, Peniche, about 70+ miles to the East.
I won't bore you with that painful voyage under engine and heads'l . I was unable to set the main as my shoulder was too painfull and I was exhausted anyway.
I eventually motored into the lee of the big Breakwater at Peniche. Desperately tired and afraid that if I fell asleep and dragged anchor I wouldn't wake up, I put 40 metres of chain down in about 5+ metres of water...
I slept for 14 hours, waking looking like a mad Panda with swollen face and two black eyes. I launched the dinghy and found to my delight that there was in fact no damage to the steering gear. The collision with the submerged object earlier in the voyage had loosened the pinch fit bottom clamp on the steering gear, running before very big seas days later had finally made it come adrift
Yes, I know it's a Rat's nest but I was bleeding like a stuck pig and fighting to save my boat in the dark.. At least I still had my ladder and I don't remember getting that back aboard!!
A few days later, anchored safely in Portimao Harbour. A kind Portugese Doctor ( a sailing man too) treated me for ruptured shoulder ligaments and sorted out a Dental appointment for my busted teeth ( Hello plastic front teeth.. )
I haven't given up sailing but it's all coastal now. A. I'm nearly 80 and B. I can't stand the nagging from my Kids and Granddaughter...
Thirteen years ago at nearly 68, I sailed from Falmouth as usual, bound for the Med and a winter in Greece.
Leaving Falmouth Bay in July, as always on a course to take me about halfway between the Isles of Scilly and Ushant.
About 10. Degrees West was the closest I ever got to Cape Finisterre, I never went into the Bay of Biscay but stayed well to the West for many reasons, shipping, inshore fishing, but all basically about sea room.
An escort and fine weather to start the voyage.
Just North of a point where Finisterre would lay abeam one of those Summer fogs that gather off the Northern Spanish Coast came down and set in and the wind died away completely, so I started the diesel..
Flat glassy calm, terrible visibility and at about 4 knots when there was an awful crash and the boat practically stopped dead in the water. Mast and rigging rattled and I looked astern to see something?? A wooden jetty, wooden cargo crate? whatever it was had negative buoyancy and covered in weed rolled just briefly to the surface before sinking.
The usual checks below showed all well, engine ran smoothly but I was uneasy with many hundreds of miles to go before landfall at Cape St Vincent, so for the first time ever I altered for Coruna.
Feeling my way into Coruna where I spent 2 days in the smart Marina there, checking as best I could without diving, for any underwater/prop/rudder damage.
I sailed quite satisfied that all was well. Sailed due West before turning South with about 75 miles sea room off the coast.
After some time the weather turned from a Northerly of about Force 4 to an increasing Northerly gale and I found myself running under reduced heads'l only. Pitch black and very big seas from astern, I sat tucked up in the cockpit watching the Hydrovane steer the Nic down the big seas. Some time after midnight with the tea flask empty I moved to the main hatch, slid it open and unclipped my life line. As I put one foot on the companion way top step the boat went violently hard to Port and fell on her side. My wet hands slipped on the hatch coaming and I fell head first into the cabin hitting the chart table with my face and landing om my left shoulder. I lay stunned, salt water poured down the hatch and soaked me. I scrambled up into the cockpit my mouth full of blood and in agony with my damaged shoulder.
To my horror I saw the top of the Hydrovane, the geared head, swaying from side to side. I could not believe that the stainless 12 mm bolts that I had used to fit the Vane had sheered, but the whole steering gear was swaying from side to side and I realised that if it ripped off the fibre glass transom we would almost certainly sink if the damage was severe enough.
What followed over the next few hours would take too long to explain here. Many attempts to drop a line down and 'lasso' the Hydrovane rudder to secure it, but with the boat plunging her bow and stern deep into the big seas it was impossible. I couldn't breath properly and my shoulder was agony but eventually I knew that in order to secure the rudder before it was torn off, I would have to go over the stern, so I rigged the boarding ladder over the stern.
Wearing a head torch and with a length of 10mm line and honestly quite terrified I climbed over the stern only to be immediately submerged up to my shoulders as the Nic plunged her stern into the sea.
Holding on with one hand and being dunked a few times I managed to pass the ropes end through the aperture on the top of the
Hydrovane rudder. I fell over the rail back on board.
The next couple of hours were spent trying to tame the wildly swaying steering gear in pitch darkness and huge breaking seas.
As dawn broke, this was the scene...
The massive seas of the dark hours had died away..
My Spanish Windlass was holding and the steering gear moved just a fraction.
I plotted a course to the nearest port of safety, Peniche, about 70+ miles to the East.
I won't bore you with that painful voyage under engine and heads'l . I was unable to set the main as my shoulder was too painfull and I was exhausted anyway.
I eventually motored into the lee of the big Breakwater at Peniche. Desperately tired and afraid that if I fell asleep and dragged anchor I wouldn't wake up, I put 40 metres of chain down in about 5+ metres of water...
I slept for 14 hours, waking looking like a mad Panda with swollen face and two black eyes. I launched the dinghy and found to my delight that there was in fact no damage to the steering gear. The collision with the submerged object earlier in the voyage had loosened the pinch fit bottom clamp on the steering gear, running before very big seas days later had finally made it come adrift
Yes, I know it's a Rat's nest but I was bleeding like a stuck pig and fighting to save my boat in the dark..
At least I still had my ladder and I don't remember getting that back aboard!!A few days later, anchored safely in Portimao Harbour. A kind Portugese Doctor ( a sailing man too) treated me for ruptured shoulder ligaments and sorted out a Dental appointment for my busted teeth ( Hello plastic front teeth..
)I haven't given up sailing but it's all coastal now. A. I'm nearly 80 and B. I can't stand the nagging from my Kids and Granddaughter...
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Poignard
Well-known member
Well done veshengro!
Glad you survived to entertain and inspire us with a post like that.
Glad you survived to entertain and inspire us with a post like that.
AndyDavies
New member
Sailing.
Snowgoose-1
Well-known member
In the early days, I could see that my wife was suffering and was only doing it to please me. As it turned out, we found other things to do together , and she was happy for me to go sailing on my own.
Things like being cold, wet , shaken. and the engine not starting at the end, made me think about doing something else . But by Tuesday. I had recovered and looked forward to the next time .
Things like being cold, wet , shaken. and the engine not starting at the end, made me think about doing something else . But by Tuesday. I had recovered and looked forward to the next time .
RunAgroundHard
Well-known member
Arguments with my son. I love sailing and when my son got older tensions developed and we argue. The crazy thing was that we both actually are similar and when I think back at the arguments and can't fathom out why they were what the were. It ruined the experience and reduced the pleasure, as well as ripped a big chunk of confidence away. Avoidance was the strategy. I am sort of moving on from it now.
Sailing, bad weather, expense, single handing are not issues for me, but I prefer companionship and sharing an experience and when that gets sullied it is debilitating and challenges enthusiasm for the past time.
Sailing, bad weather, expense, single handing are not issues for me, but I prefer companionship and sharing an experience and when that gets sullied it is debilitating and challenges enthusiasm for the past time.
Wansworth
Well-known member
Wansworth
Well-known member
Had one of those fogs on Thursday in Coruna……
Daydream believer
Well-known member
On what grounds do they have "no business to be there" & how do they get that "experience", that you deem necessary if they cannot go on them? Furthermore, what is wrong with E-bikes as a transition to a more modern form of the sport?