Whirling Lows To The North

At last there is some sign that high pressure may push the whirling lows to the north, and with the Maylandsea Bay pre Easter sailing now at last only three weeks away thing are on an up. It is unclear at this point if MBSC will follow set courses and back-to-back racing or not. We do know that there is a rumble in the bowels of the club and maybe this is a good thing for it may be that change is what is needed. As the sun moves up the hill a feeling of desperate need to feel the salt is rife.
For the other reader, the non-sailors did get to The France Show 2008. It was a bit of a disappointment. The entry fee had dropped to £8 and the place was packed full of the very bloke one would wish to
(Above: this Swedish star sorted Shacko life out with the use of magnets) escape from. The traffic meant five hours in the car travelling to and from the peace of the Tuscany Hills of Essex to the Zoo of the suburbs/docks/central London. There are too many people/motors to the square metre. Their ability to stand one on top of the other and queue around a block of exhibitor’s stands for a UK banger in a roll is not dissimilar to what happens abroad. What is the Brits frenzy to get a free sample about (its free!) and when you ask one to buy a bottle he looks at you like your mad. Who would put food in his mouth when ten or twenty bods had just had their fingers on it (a Brit). The show feature was over whelmed with families hovering to whip the seat from underneath you before you got to see it. Needles to say we did not get to eat. I fear that the show has gone forever; although it will be easier the sell stand space in 2009 to the French, but it is un-lightly to talk Franch. It should be said that it is an estate agents show to sell France to the Brits and what do you expect from estate agents as a show? It was a bit sad but I can remember the good show with the smells of onions, fromage, smoked garlic, and the sounds of the wine makers and people wheeling out boxes on little trolleys. Is Frarnch to fill up with Brits? Will the restaurants only open Friday to Sunday?
(When sailors meet Cancans do they do turns?) Will Frarnch become like North Norfolk nicely painted and empty? Well I can tell you that having seen south London’s A205 (curtsey of the Sat.nav.), the Blackwell tunnel, the A13 and the A127 life is for living and living is not as seen on the way or in London.The Dog and Duck is a luxury, like salty mud, wind blowing your hat off, the sound off the wading birds leaving the mud banks, the sight of the incoming tide, and time to see time pass.

The sun set at 16:31 and comes up tomorrow at 7:52, no worries, be happy dit dit dit

Blackwater Travellers Trophy 2008

Things are looking up, for the sun is working its way back to the northern hemisphere and the shadows are getting shorter. We walked along the sea wall on the top of the tide this Sunday on a cold grey day with the views of Osea island, the saltings with the wading birds circling around, the cats paws speedily spreading out over the water in the knowledge that there was not a race to be had on the river, a sad state of affairs.
It is at this time that ones thoughts travel out past Bradwell and the outer navigation marks to the sights of the black crane jibs and blocks of apartments; the sandy beaches and the smells of Franch. With the GPS set it’s time for the passing of the barrier and Tower Bridge around the Embankment and Mickey-Mouse at Cheyne Walk and into Frog-land.
The France Show is where Shacko from the château in deepest Essex comes to feel warmth and gaze into the eyes of the fromage damsel, who can sell arms full of fromage to Shacko with just eye contact. Shacko knows few Franch words but does say “le vin, oui rouge vous remercient” as if he’d lived at the bottom of Boulogne Hill all his life. Memories of Paris and St Marlow, Shacko’s rather old, now well travelled beret puts a strange tone into Shacko’s one remaining brain cell, and with big brown eyes looking upon the displaced barrow boy, it is as much as monsieur Wigg can do to stop a woopy involving the ability not to say ”aucun merci”
Olympia is an enchanting iron building with the sun pouring through the glass roof and the sights sounds, smells and unknown, is intoxicating, far from sailboat racing, mud banks and wind shifts and yet the wafts of Franch the ease of looks, puts an edge on ones senses not dissimilar to getting around Mr. Fulcher.
An idea of following Mr. Stein down the French canals has been a tad slighted on account that the hotel barge is unlikely to be big enough for Americans and Shacko to stay the distance. In a broken English conversation with a French boat hire company in which the words “Noddy boats” was used last year it may well be that the hire of a boat is not an option either.
So not wearing pyjamas or a baseball cap and trainers but sitting quietly at the restaurant table as soon as arrived. The vin and fromage and gateau and dodgy Franch lingo - it is an answer to not sailing.

The dates for the 2008 Travellers Trophy are coming in, now read on dit dit dit

Blackwater Icicle 2008

As the deep red glow from the rising sun appeared on the skyline it reflected off the river and its back waters like a ribbon of glowing lava under a clear cold blue sky; one had the feeling that it was to be a good day to be on the Blackwater. Maylandsea Bay S.C. greeted the gathering fleet with open arms, pushing out bacon sarnies and tea, with the Sandhopper fleet once again manning the support boats and the race box. Bill Wright being the principal race officer looked at the fleet of thirty plus boat and opted for a committee boat start off of Lawling point at the bottom of the bay. The fleet presented itself to the line and made a bang on start on the end of a soft flooding tide (well all except Jacko and Lorna who on being too early at the pin end bumped along a N12 backed off for a second go, now on port, took bunny pie from the laser fleet tacked off, hit the pin mark did the turn and eventfully joined in). The fleet made light work of the windward leg into a 8 to 12 knot westerly breeze passing the submerged remains of the spit and round the race mark at the top of the bay. There then followed a long run back across the bay and down Lawling creek. It’s not a very user friendly venue for the asymmetric sail plan with a need to optimise down hill angels, but on this day things were looking good as the soft tide did not eat up the boat speed. As the fleet spread out and rounded Doctor navigation mark off Osea Island for the windward leg to Coopers race mark, a rather one sided affair, the race was well on the way to being sorted followed by a grimly tight three sail reach back to Lawling creek. The Solo’s and Laser’s suffered against the strengthening ebb of tide taking a time loss passing Lawling point and race mark 4 and as the saltings gained height the race was over.
The fleet as a whole were the winners on the day having had the pleasure of a sail in sun and a pleasant breeze and for Piers and Peter, the race winners in a B14, the smiles at the prize giving said more than the words. In second place was Tyler Harmsworth in a Phantom and as he rocked his way past two Fireballs on the run out to Steeple he made Neil Fultcher look like a child of God who hardly rocked at all; shame on those of us that did not protest. Gareth Davies sailed an excellent race, starting well and leading at the first mark using the tide and finding a good race line, it is noted that he beat he odds that fast boats travel further in the wrong direction.
Notables: Race team Maldon had a good day with Dean and Rob finishing 6th in a Hornet, and Alex in a Blaze starting well followed by some pretty nippy boat work on the windward legs, with other team members making their presence felt, especially in the club bar.
Race team Blackwater, lead by Gareth (Musto Skiff) chased by slippery pole expert Nigel Sheppard (Fireball) supported by Martin, sadly not a great ballers day, but if it is the right day it’s the wrong course! Brian Sargeant toughing it out with Mickey Wright (Laser) a hard fought battle over the distance as 1st Laser and 12th over all.
Leigh-on-sea, race team Laser. Not an easy race for the Laser fleet but all finished.
Dave Islin: who slept in, then blamed a badly worded advertising poster for missing the start.
As a home club competitor I would like to thank all the visitors for their support. The club Sandhopper fleet for time spent in preparing for this event and on the day. The ladies in the Galley, for making it a better day.
The next race day is the 10th February, races 1&2 of 6, being Maylandsea Bays rendering of the Wooled Hat. More info to follow

Full Race Results

Thanks to Ian Milton for sending in the pics

Maldon Mud Race 2007

As a sailboat racer who took part in the H.B.S.C. mud race in which the pulling or pushing of a 14 foot 100 kilo wooden sailing dinghy from the channel to the wooden slip was part of the event! The site of 181 assorted Palm Trees, Horses, Wonder women, Batmen, clowns and jail birds eager to race round a 400 yard course through 3 feet of beautiful blue mud with a silky brown topping, passing across the Maldon creek on their way out and the return (at low water) has a sobering enlightenment not dissimilar to cold jelled eels.
Essex Radio (event link) doing the verbals inadvertently were involved in a premature start (that no way was to be restarted!) with the promoting of a Mexican Wave “you ready at the left hand end - on the count of three…1 2 3” and a 181 competitors run into the mud. Cheered on by the crowded promenade.

The radio bloke did not know whether to call them back or run and hide. But it did not matter a didley-scott. It was a sight to see the winner step out a bit lively (just walking at times) and cross the finish line hardly mudded, playing the rich get richer card known so well in sailboat racing (a tad boring it could be said) second place had been held by a chap who tried the Penguin style of sliding across the ice propelled by the feet. Sadly this does not work on Maldon Mud and looked seriously life threatening.

He was absorbed by the pursuing mid fleet pack. It would appear that for most spreading the body weight on all fours is a worthy option (not a winning move but you do stay on the top of the mud) for those in the middle to the back! Well if you like mud you have got it, but no worries the rescue team is on hand, with rope, and with the careful passing of rope under submersed body parts you can be extracted before dark. I fear no money was raised in the infamous Merlin mud race where as thousands of pounds come from this event.

This ends sailing reports for this year on the Blackwater River, but do not despair next weekend starts a new year and the Blackwater Icicle Trophy at Maylandsea Bay - an early start 10:00 on a 5.02m tide. The race committee tell me that there are some special features to the event “I just can’t wait” now read on dit dit dit.

Zilch plus fog at Icebreaker Trophy, Hullbridge

As the moon sunk into the frozen mist the signs were not good, the forecast was that a light breeze would back from NW to S! Only the keen removed ice from the windscreens. As it transpired sight of the north bank through the fog was a dream and a small fleet struggled with those miserable little split rings as the masts were stood and the frozen fog-let drops glistening in the rigging, hope was still high in the Merlin fleet that things could only get better.
It was good to see boats from Stone S.C. Creek-sea and Marconi S.C.’s and there was talk of a course to be set up river, but sadly it was a non-starter and Mathew Picket heading the race team threw in the towel. If there was a winner it had to be Lorna having been as good as can be and shiny as a Chrimbo fairy lit up Charles D’s eyes as she explained just what a performer she was in the front end of a Merlin and how lucky Jacko was to ride side-saddle behind her. By this time the tide had turned the fog had set in heavier and there was no sign of any wind.
The next race is The Blackwater Icicle on the 6 of Jan. starting at 10:00
Will the Fireballers make the start line? Will Batty fit in a boat at all? Will Ron hang out as a crew? Will Shed-burner sail his Laser or will he have been employed and be working for Mr Branson? Will Pies have recovered from a Christmas of arm wrestling? And what is this new and wondrous beer in the bar at Maylandsea Bay? And why is Lenny so happy? All will be revealed! Merry Chrimbo, now read on dit dit dit

picture below Simon and Pies Merlin 3230

Thrills and spills end the Maylandsea Bay Winter Series

As luck would have it a window of calm passed over Maylandsea Bay giving the fleet chance to sail out races 7 and 8 of the winter series. By the time the 13 competing boats had rounded race marks 0, 1, and Spit the wind, SW at 18 knots puffing 24 knots, was sorting the partygoers from the dedicated yachters. The race box with a wish to please the gathered club elder’s set a mean short distance course around race marks in sight of the club veranda (a totally inappropriate action rendering the club elders rocking with laughter as they consumed coffees and then beers).
The broad reach to the jibe at race mark 3 gave the fleet a chance to demonstrate just how good they were and with the water being pleasantly flat, for wind over tide, and the cubic whammies roaring through the ‘ease and foot’ mode of sailing tested all. Also the jibe thwackingly good boom verses crew movement, with no chance of the kite collapsing without error, was a site to behold.
The rounding at the bottom of race mark 4 and feeling the full on force of the wind, the spray biting into your woolly hat and the sudden realisation that it was not that far too the top, did have a happy bunny feel to it. The windward leg itself was also a test with sudden backing shifts as the squalls whipped through.
With darkening skies and the wind building, race 8 was too be the race to win to win the series as Keith having scored a 2nd in race 7 was now a point down on Jacko and Lorna. It was at this point that Martin Tarling woke up, wining the start and building a good lead. Keith followed on around marks 0, 1, Spit, 3 and 4 and onto the up hill leg. Martin, hugging the saltings out of the tide on the north side, was overtaken as Keith gritted his teeth, sat out hard and belted through the outward going tide.
Keith toughed it out to win the race and the series for the second year and only had the smallest of moans about having to use his better sail!


For Jacko and Lorna sailing around in a mist off bubbly and party hats, that was not what put them 7 seconds short on elapsed time to win but a poor start and the tactical decision to sail out the tide with more tacks on the north side, as opposed to backing the corners with less tacks. But Jacko still claming to be an athlete, was also seen to be looking deeply into the eyes of Lorna and asking just how many bottles had been drunk.

Roger Smith in a Solo put a brilliant series together to finish 3rd overall showing that a man in his prime does not come in young trousers but does stay upright as others lie with the fishes. A truly well sorted performance sailed in the toughest of conditions
Martin in his laser had his moments, stayed the distance and was not fazed by Paul Weeden’s one-smarty-pants outing winning race 6, finished every race, always in the top 6 boats, may feel a tad robbed by the tie breaking rule, finished 4th overall
Notables: The Splat the Duck competition has never been so well competed for with dozens of nominations. In 3rd place Kevin and Nick sailing a Fireball had one too many dippings to keep on smiling/competing and pulled out of swimming/sailing altogether. Ron and Laura put in a serious bid with the flip-flop multi capsizes on more than one occasion and landings on the salting, plus gulping mouthfuls of salt water to finish 2nd. But much to their dismay a late all encompassing challenge on the last race day blew them all way. Peter Playle in a Laser with 7 varied and truly wish I was not here “why me God” splattering, plus rounding a mark not in the course and the thwacking of a support boat with an immediate capsize trying to escape verbal, won the prize out right

This has been an outstanding winter series and a credit to all that have sailed in her and on behalf of the competitors I would like to thank M.B.S.C. and the support boat crews for time spent in the wet, cold and windy conditions looking out for those needing their help; the Ladies that ran the galley for their warm words of support given, plus the tea and coffee, bacon and sausage rolls. The Race Box men for giving outstanding entertainment to the club member audience.
The next club race is the Blackwater Icicle on the 6th of Jan. Start at 10:00 all welcome
The next club series is to start on the 10th Feb. some 9 weeks away. This saddens me greatly as to be in the company of sailors who are happy to turn upside down in the water and jump into the saltings, plus the armchair champions telling of races won and lost, the sounds of the wading birds and the sight of the incoming tide as the days get longer is why I belong to a sailing club on one of the most rewarding rivers in the UK. The reader will need to watch the space as a new plot is formed to expand sailing pleasure and delay the house decorating yet farther. I have no doubt that Mr Wigg and I will be heading to Hythe Key for lunch or Heybridge for breakfast at the first opportunity.
Thanks to Richard and Nick for time spent sending the pictures
here are the Results Now read on dit dit dit

Was Muffin The Mule’s mate called Oswald?

Life in the Dog and Duck can get exiting; a wonderful selection of real ales and a splendid menu puts a good end on the sailing day.
It came to pass that in a complicated conversation on the desirability of Andy Pandy’s jimjams and his relationship with Loopy Loo, stripes vertical or horizontal (as worn) could not have been more misleading, for as another log was placed on the open fire and Wiggy’s eyes slowly developed a glazed over shine “more Beer” as light filtered through the emptying glasses leaving an odd pattern on Jacko’s brow. “We’re not to have the Regatta stuff or the one with strawberries in” The wooden beams have been there from the time of Cromwell! But they are as hard now as when new - Jacko’s bonce having been soaked in brine only that very day and losing the well recognizable woolly hat to the fishes looked a tad spent. Fending off the eye of the barmaid and feeling the heat from the open fire blurted out “sod Andy Pandy, what of Muffin The Mule?” a response rippled around the bar. It appears Muffin the Mule is well known and well thought of in this pub. The conversation grew louder and it transpired that Muffin’s mate was called Oswald…. By this time the red onion had taken effect, more beer required and the slight smell of burning followed Jacko to the window. Wiggy was exercising in the boys’ room and the barmaid had the green money tin in her grasp. It must be said that both Wiggy and Jacko are flattered that they are made welcome and being recognized and in turn they have never thrown up or fallen over in the car park. So the question is: did Muffin the Mule have a friend? Was he called Oswald? And what was Oswald? Does any bloke drink strawberry beer? Has any one understood how fragile the life of a woolly hat can be?
Twirling low-pressure systems to the north could possibly put a wet end on the winter series. Now that’s better than talk of land yachting. Next race Sunday 9th at 10:00.