January 2001

Peter Thomas is the proud owner of Souvenir, the last new Memory which was there for the world to admire at the last year’s Southampton Boat Show. It’s a cabin version, black hull with a Mariner 4 HP sailpower O/B. 

Via the Salterns brokerage, a very nice Bergvist Memory called Gretel was found in Portsmouth and purchased by Dick New. Gretel is a cabin version with a well behaved Stuart inboard diesel, one of those where you can turn the handle and it starts – without vulnerable electrics.

John Paton has taken over Long Nanny, described in the last issue by Phil Pafford. 

Girl Friday, ex Peter Hamey, has been purchased by M.R.A. Howell

John Atwill, ex Ruffler, was indignant at being deleted (quite right in circs.) and is still a MOA member though now sailing a Salterns Tela.

Please change Greg Dalrymple’s telephone number to 02380 407606. All boaty things are dealt with through this number – and it’s also a Fax number.

Tim Aspden is joining the MOA. Tim has a Hunter Duette which he hopes to sell in order to purchase a Memory.

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Tragedy and arguments in Yarmouth

Liz and I called in here for a night, having had a scary passage from Poole to Christchurch the day before. Strong winds had been forecast to develop in the afternoon, so we had raised the anchor round the back of Brownsey Island early in the morning and set off home. Before we reached Bournemouth pier, the winds had already strengthened and we found ourselves doing battle with waves on the beam, on a lea shore. We just made it to the sailing club at Christchurch before the rain tipped down in bucketful’s. Yet in the morning there were clear skies and a reasonable forecast of SW winds. So off we set for the Solent… and Yarmouth.

The tidal stream flowing past this little harbour can be vicious. I have watched small boats going backwards in both directions! You have to keep an eye on the ferries too. They come up on you very fast, and their hooter is very loud and embarrassing. However, if you get everything right it is an excellent place to sail to, and is very popular in the sailing season. It is a natural jumping off point to other places in or out of the Solent and is always crowded with yachts, big and small, from all over.

The harbour master, who always waves, knows us as we go in. We know where to go. For a small boat like a Memory you can creep along the drying out pontoon by the wooden breakwater. There is always a spot here, and it is the only pontoon that may be walked off, so no need to pump up the dinghy. Just off the pontoon there is a grassy/ dune sort of area set up for barbecues and further down the path are some toilets…. And further along the coast towards the fort there is the "Boathouse" where you can get a really good breakfast whilst overlooking the water. Why not Memory rallies down here for a change?

Anyway we tied up the boat securely, and I even coiled the ropes prettily to enhance the varnished vision of loveliness. The sun was mirrored in the varnished cockpit and the Christchurch sailing club burgee fluttered like a blue butterfly at the top of the shiny mast. As we left the pontoon for a walk into Yarmouth I kept looking back just to make sure I hadn’t been dreaming. Meanwhile all the stays and halyards of yachts in the harbour tinkled in the light breeze.

You can walk around the town in around half an hour. There really isn’t much there. However it has a feel to it that keeps drawing you back again and again. In season the pubs are crowded, known for their excellent food, but if you want a more peaceful meal I recommend the Indian restaurant down the side street that leads away down the coast towards Cowes. I have had many a good dinner in there. As it was lunch time, Liz bought home-made pork pies and a cake from a wonderful shop opposite the pub and ate these in a park overlooking the Solent. We paid a visit to Yarmouth Castle (hardly a castle) which happened that day to be full of flower arrangements and artwork. We decided to return to the town in the afternoon for a cream tea. It really was a perfect day and we ambled slowly back to the boat.

The pontoon rocked gently and groaned occasionally as we passed our weight over it. It was almost as if it was trying to commiserate with us about some secret sorrow. As we rounded the bend in the pontoon I looked towards "Merlin" and immediately knew something was seriously wrong. It seemed to have moved and it seemed further away from the pontoon. Not even the burgee was fluttering any more?

I did not run. My pace lengthened first, before it dawned on me that if I didn’t move quick, Merlin would be out of reach. She was drifting away from the pontoon and down towards the harbour entrance. The ropes that had secured her were sliding over the wooden slats into the water like thin black water snakes chasing a very large prey. I was now racing forward to lunge after the final tail of rope as it slithered towards the water. I suppose it must have looked funny to a stranger; some crazy bloke flying through the air trying to catch a quickly shortening length of rope. My left hand caught the final foot of the stern line and I lay on the rough planking refusing to let go. The outgoing tidal current in the harbour can be nasty too. Certainly all I could do was hang on in the hope that either the boat would respond and ease back, or Liz would arrive to help. Both happened at once and I was able to stand whilst deciding what to do next. The sound of a small motor boat grew ever more quiet as it disappeared towards the harbour entrance, but all I had time for was wondering how to get the boat back. We looked around for help. Typically there was no-one around when needed so Liz clambered over a smelly fishing boat to try to reach Merlin’s stern whilst I gently pulled the stern line. It slowly began to reverse course to starboard and towards the other moored boat. Liz reached out to catch the side of the cockpit and held on desperately and shouting at me to get to her to help. The current was trying to take the boat away again but I felt somehow that Liz was very much more conscious of the smelly slippery things she was leaning on and standing in. I reached her side still with the only line we had and together we pulled the boat back behind the fishing boat and secured her once more to the pontoon. 

We surveyed the damage. A long and deep gouge had been etched into the hull about six feet in length. It was clear how it got there. Someone had thought they could drag Merlin along the pontoon and around the bend to make room for their boat. They had not considered the iron bolts on a pylon guarding the corner, that had unemotionally refused to move as they cut Merlin along her length. Also clear was the absence of anyone responsible. It must have been only a minute before we arrived; yet no one was to be seen. In panic or horror at their stupidity, these brainless people must have jumped into their motor boat and sped off, leaving Merlin hurt and adrift.

Our friend the harbour master was waved over a couple of hours later, but apart from studying the damage and reflecting on what might have happened, he could do nothing. No one had seen anything. We didn’t know at this time that soon we would be calling him over again later that evening about another little matter!

A cream tea (Earl Grey) did wonders to relieve my anger, and at around 5.30 that afternoon we returned to the boat to settle down for the evening. Liz got out her cross-stitch and I continued to read my Hornblower book. It was still a beautiful afternoon with just a little breeze to cool us in the hot sun.

Our peace did not last. A very old sailing boat was tied up further along the pontoon. It was one of those ugly ones built of plastic that dulls with time. It was dirty and obviously was in need of much attention; the sort you get at scrap-yards for example! It was tethered…. well, sort of tethered by some very worn pieces of rope; more like string really. From this vessel came the sound of raised voices and a yappy barking noise.

"Bloody…..shut…..take…stupid"

"Yap, yap, yap"

"You pig…"

"Yap, yap."

We looked at each other and raised our eyebrows. We carried on and ignored it. The argument became louder and this little unstable looking boat began to heal from one side to the other. A dog continued to bark. We carried on and ignored it.

Then all went quiet as the boat tipped right over towards the pontoon. It had to tip alarmingly because the most enormous woman clambered out carrying a little dog. She reached back into the cockpit to retrieve a carrier bag. She put a thin little leash onto the dog’s collar and marched towards us down the pontoon. I carried on looking at my book. Liz continued stitching. When she went passed we both looked up and followed her thumping passage down the planks. Did they groan and creak under her weight? Yes they did. She was not walking. She was marching purposefully away like a thunderstorm, little doggy trotting behind in her shadow.

Another half an hour went by peacefully and then… a voice on this boat was plainly heard.

"She can take her f…….. dog and stick the bleeder down the toilet. Well rid of the both of them."

Much choice language continued to describe how good life was going to be from now on. Gradually it became more slurred and incoherent.

"She’ll be shorry an’ she don’t fink she’ll come back. Leave her ‘ere wiv ‘er stuff an all.!"

A head and a bottle of whiskey appeared from the cabin. I tried not to look…. But we both did!

A short thin man looking seriously undernourished tried his best to maintain balance as he pulled himself up into the cockpit. Swaying a little in time with the tilting to and fro of the boat, he kept his eyes down as if looking at his boots. Very carefully, as if to appear sober, he stepped over the guard rail wires onto the pontoon. His foot became entangled and he lost balance, falling forward cursing. He started to untie the springs very meticulously, and threw these lines into the boat. I was a little concerned that he was going to go out of the harbour in this state, but I need not have worried because he then tripped over the rails getting back in. He disappeared into the cabin, and for a few minutes Liz and I thought he might have fallen asleep. It was so quiet.

I heard the splash first. I stood up to investigate.

"Look at this," I half whispered to Liz.

She leaned over to see.

One by one, things were being thrown out of the little boat’s cabin and into the harbour; a kettle, a pot, a piece of material (could have been a skirt), another pot, an enormous bra, assorted underwear (large and old), a few cans (I think of dog food), a blouse, a pullover, a toothbrush, another pair of knickers and more! All of these things that floated drifted off down the harbour while the poor little man expelled himself from the cabin and untied the remaining ropes tethering him to the safety of the pontoon. We watched in horror as his anchor, tied up at the bow, narrowly missed scraping down another yacht as it moved along the pontoon with the current. He was trying to put the sails up at the time! Then he abandoned this idea and started his little two-stroke engine. With sails flapping, he moved under power into the main channel and was quickly swept to the entrance. The last we saw was the boat leaving the harbour with tidal steams flowing swiftly Westward and no ferry in sight.

The children from the various yachts nearby spent a happy hour. They paddled around picking up all sorts of wonderful things. They were shouting and shrieking with laughter.

"Dad, dad. Look what we found."

The kettle had floated to the bank. The bras were used as flags or sails. Some items were thrown back in, as mothers wisely demanded

"Put that back. You don’t know where it’s been!"

The harbour master was duly informed, but as he said

"The chap’s gone of his own free will. There is no sign of anyone in trouble. We’ll keep an eye out for him and that’s all we can do for the moment."

I believe the coastguard was informed but nothing was heard of this intrepid mariner ever again.

My first visit to Yarmouth with old Sam, when we walked to Freshwater, could never compare to this adventure. We left Yarmouth the following morning with the tide sluicing East towards Bembridge.

Hope you all had a good Christmas, and received plenty of useful bits and pieces for your boats. Here are a few lines about what we got up to down here this year.

There have been two memorable events this year for us. Firstly two Memorys set sail for Dartmouth, Velindra and Soroya. We set off mid morning in a fresh breeze and glorious sunshine and proceeded to beat our way to Torbay, as we approached the Ore Stone the wind decreased so we motored across Torbay. Rounding Berry Head the wind freshened from the south-east. Both boats had top sails set and we made good time on the final leg approaching the River Dart. The sea had become quite big by now but both boats handled well and we managed to sail a good distance up the river, creating a great deal of interest. A good night out was had by all and still in glorious sunshine we set off for home. Unfortunately this time there was no wind at all so we motored home.

Our next event had been brewing all year. We had decided to plan a race involving all the Memorys on the river and any one else who wanted to take part. The course was to the Ore Stone and back and the date was August Bank Holiday, 11 am start. Three Memorys made the start plus two other vessels. We were Velindra, Soraya and Amnesia – sloop, cutter and yawl rig respectively. Crews were briefed as to the intended course, the start line transit and start time - plus engines off 5 minutes before start. The main aim was for a get together and a bit of fun.

The race started on time and Soraya took an early lead in very light winds, even though he had reversed his boat over the start line after the engines-off call. The forecast was a perfect force 3 to 4 expected from the NW by lunch time. But at the moment we had no wind and made slow progress, the lead changing with every puff of wind. You could hear the cans of beer being opened from miles away.

Soraya started to build up a lead by tucking under the cliffs, whilst Amnesia and Velindra were still slogging it out. As predicted the wind started to pick up but by now Soraya had run away with it and was un-catchable. Rounding the Ore Stone the wind was blowing 5 gusting to 6 and had veered to SW. Of the two chasers, Amnesia rounded the stone first, closely followed by Velindra but the superior sail area of Amnesia allowed them to open up a lead.

Result 1st...Soraya  2nd..Amnesia  3rd...Velindra.

Afterwards, we had a barbecue and a cup presentation, which allowed John (Soraya) to demonstrate his gloating skills to the full. Same again next year we hope. Any Memorys in the area – or from south and east who would like to take part- you’ll will be welcome as long as you don’t win. We can arrange a mooring and, if needs be, accommodation.

(Well, eat your heart out Cowes week. Ed.)

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Flying Fox to Gretel

Dick is a ‘new’ Memory owner, having recently acquired Gretel, a Bergvist cabin version.

'Sailing as I do from Dell Quay, I have been aware of Max Manning’s Talitha for some time and when seeking a GRP replacement for my beloved Beluga Flying Fox (See picture. Ed.) it was natural that I should consider a Memory. Flying Fox is a 20 ft gunter rigged sloop built in 1949 of mahogany on oak at an Itchenor shipyard. She has a lifting plate and draws only 10 inches when raised. The boat is of battened carvel construction with a two berth cabin. Unfortunately I do not have the time to maintain a wooden boat, having sailed her for some 20 years. She has got to the point where someone with greater skills and time than me needs to do a bit of restoration work, to revive this classic inshore cruiser. (Anyone interested might contact me ) Judging from what I have seen of Talitha , Gretel should give me similar performance and sailing pleasure whilst reducing annual maintenance. My decision to purchase Gretel was made on the day of Salterns Christmas bash for owners and friends. I was impressed by the obvious enthusiasm of Memory owners and their sharing of experiences and tips. It will be good to be a part of such a healthy association and the sailing that goes with it. Now I’m eagerly looking forward to the start of the next season!'

Dick New, Gretel 

(Well I do hope Gretel is everything Dick is hoping for. Certainly Flying Fox will be a hard act to follow. Whenever we saw her in Chichester Harbour, over many years, we would say "Oh look there's the Beluga" and watch her sailing for a moment or two. One of those boats that shows up most of the others most of the time. - Max)

A Few Responses 

1.David Sutton - Electric Power

Yes, we have looked at electric installation for a Memory and it is an option with several usable systems on the market. The batteries could replace some of the ballast... 2 tractor batteries will give 2 hours running and don’t weight that much, about 150Kg.

To place the batteries in the bilge, although seemingly appealing, could be dangerous. In the event of a knockdown (or even heavy rainfall and an ineffective cockpit cover!) water would swamp the sole and I would not trust any waterproof casing to prevent the most dramatic impersonation of an arc welder in the bilges... the result could easily be a hole in the bottom of the boat. The cost of a proper electric engine never fails to amaze me: by the time all costs have been added, including charging system, price is similar to a diesel engine with a fraction of the power. If one is to accept the idea of using a low powered electric motor as an occasional ‘get you home quietly’ device then..... keep the ballast as is and place a battery or two up out of harms way, or maybe an electric outboard would be an easier solution.

2. Nice to hear from Olaf and Ulrike and their Namib Tern.

No, I don’t think anyone has found a wave large enough to get the Memory to plane yet. Maybe this could be a new 'dangerous sport’ for those fed up with skydiving etc. (Well…er…Ed.)

The double sided topping lift works quite well. I used it on Flugel until Mike Brackstone gave me his old topsail (I can’t afford new sails like someone else; please send money to.....). But the topsail will foul on the topping lift when raising and lowering. It fouls on everything else as well and so is really not an option in this case.

3. Film Star !!

By the time this is published you should have all seen on TV the new Agatha Christie, Evil Under the Sun, starring David Suchet in a minor role as Hercule Poirot and George and Joan Jackson’s new Memory Greensleaves in the major role....... exciting stuff and we hope to have pictures etc soon. Hands up all those who noticed the change of sails from tan to cream part way through.? Apparently it was vital to the plot –so ordered specially !

4. Festival of the Sea

Details elsewhere in this issue. Anyone interested? The last one two years ago was amazing; biggest gathering of small ships ever (allegedly).

Wonderful sights – tall ships – tall stories and tall bars. Enter now and lets get even more Memorys there than last time, when we were the most numerous craft out of 800+. Yes, more Memorys than Drascombes, Lurchers or Cornish Cobblers! It’s a four day gathering of boats, people, music, culture and food of the sea (and drink of the sea, judging by the results, AB !) But not to be missed. This year the Old Gaffers Association is organising their race in the middle of the festival. Lets see if we can give them the now traditional Memory treatment ! (See links page for FOS website.)

5. Mike Hawthorn’s letter re Neriad

Watch out for that flying winch handle on your centreplate... but seriously look out for the winch wire. Those winches have a small diameter drum and therefore the wire has to be very thin (3-4 mm max) and in every one I have seen the wire has been frayed. The sudden dropping of the plate could easily break the wire and the boat would then be in serious trouble. Many Memory owners in muddy areas have a hole in the centreplate capping (usually plugged with old cork) and keep a prodder on board to push the plate downwards. However, you should only need to give it a shove to unstick the plate (remember it weighs 100lbs!) unless you have really super sticky mud around there. I wonder if the jamming has been caused by the plate rusting and swelling as the rust "flakes" build up ? Certainly Hamble River mud does not seem to stick so easily to a smooth plate.

5. Health Warning

Have you checked your bobstay eye? Of course you have BUT if, like me, you have not taken it out for years (!) you will be surprised. Mine was corroded away inside the stem to half its thickness. Remember the whole rig hangs off this bolt and it only costs a few pounds to replace it, much cheaper than a mast.

6. Memory racing

Last year, Memorys have been even more successful in Old Gaffer events around the coast. Solent Old Gaffer racer, Brian Crawley in Nutkin won his class outright and the race overall on handicap, plus several other prizes. Neil Mordey in Dram won his class in the East Coast Old Gaffer’s race with Nick and Sue Hillman close behind in Lettie May. Nick and Sue Hillman won the Heybridge regatta, and in their local yacht club event, they were first over the line winning outright. Well done to everybody who won and those who should have had prizes... Mike Brackstone and Mike Warren in their Memorys were robbed at Yarmouth by a twist of classification ... and a yah boo to all those handicappers we didn’t agree with !!!

Top news for Memory racing. A new stealth super sail in under development at Salterns, a huge, baggy, asymmetric spinnaker that turns into a giant reaching genoa as soon as the halyard is tightened. Sounds too good to be true. If you are brave enough, call me now!

7. Mince Pies

Many thanks to all those who came to the Salterns’ Mince Pie and Mulled Wine experience, especially all those who travelled from far-a-field (are there really no mince pies in Essex ?). It’s great to see everyone together and certainly gets us into the Christmas spirit early. For those who couldn’t come, sorry we missed you, where shall we send your mince pie ? I’ve got them in the toolbox.......Happy New Year to All!

Greg Dalrymple, Flugel

I suppose we all show off just a little bit, in the pub. Hard not to when you’re a 64 year old surrounded by 20 year olds. "So, what do you do ?" – asks an enchanting blonde.

"Oh, I’m a writer" I say with an air. Then I remember that she’s an art student and would probably interpret ‘writer’ as a poet, or at least a novelist. So, " Well, I’m not a proper writer; I’m a marine journalist." "Do you have a boat ?" – asks a girl with cometobed eyes and sooty black hair. "I have a sailing boat called Sif ". "I used to go sailing in Japan", says Yum Yum. (She isn’t really called Yum Yum by the way, but in view of the international distribution of the MOA Newletter, I prefer to disguise the name.)

"Why do you call your boat Sif ?" – asks the blonde. I recount the tale of Sif, Thor, Loki and the golden hair. "That’s lovely." – says the blonde. "Now say something nice about brunettes" – says the sooty haired beauty. I embark on an ill-judged attempt to recite Shakespeare’s sonnet to his dark mistress. I can’t remember all the lines but the girls, happy on atmosphere and alcohol, don’t seem to notice. "We’ve been here two and a half years and we’ve never been sailing!" – says the blonde. The dark lady is more direct. "Will you take us out on your boat ?" – she asks. "Of course" – instant reply, "as soon as she’s in the water."

It takes a long time to get Sif launched and rigged, due to the awful wet Spring – but eventually, we are ready. I ring the two girls separately and invite them to come out sailing, casual like. The blonde’s reply is cryptic, " I don’t think that would be a good idea." But the sooty haired beauty is full of enthusiasm, though, it seems, congenitally disorganised. We never did meet on the quay. However, one bright day Yum Yum presents herself, all ready to sail. She is wearing an elegant white felted wool jacket with a bright, embroidered pattern and carrying a sun-hat. She looks, shall we say, ‘snug’ – but I ask if she is quite sure she will be warm enough. "Yes, this is very thick; I shall be warm enough." The wind in the harbour is about force 3. Doubtless it will be more out in the Carrick Roads, so I decide to tie down a reef. Yum Yum can tie reef knots, which is encouraging. Her English, like her appearance, is neat and precise. I am though unable to deduce whether she can helm a boat or not. It seems safest to seat her across the thwart while I back the jib, drop the mooring, reach out into the channel and free off the wind coming over the port quarter. Only then, I suggest that Yum Yum tends the jib and I explain what is required. She replies "I cannot think when my head is cold" – and rams her sun-hat down over her black hair like a broad rimmed flower-pot. We emerge from the shelter of Trefusis Point and the wind sweeps down the Roads. I was right to reef. Sif heels for a moment. I haul in the sheets and we point up towards St. Just, at a hissing sprint. Should I give Yum Yum the tiller ? This is easy, exciting stuff. I smile at her encouragingly but she pre-empts the offer – "When I go sailing in Japan I wear a tee-shirt and short knickers." In the forepeak I find an old painty smock. Yum Yum struggles it over her beautiful embroidered jacket. She then takes the helm – and appears to know what she is doing ! But there is no sign of enjoyment. Doubtless the correct, oriental behaviour; polite, reserved and unemotional.

"Are you feeling warmer ?" – I ask. "No, I am still feeling cold !" I rummage in the forepeak again but all I can find is a sail bag. Apologetically I hand it to Yum Yum, who climbs into it and pulls it up to her armpits. Thus she sits, neither smiling nor embarrassed, looking like a scruffy rag doll trying to escape from Santa’s sack. I curse myself for not having brought a camera. "Shall we go back ?" – I suggest. We gybe. Sif lifts her skirts and we head for Falmouth. In the circumstances, with my crew too cold to think and immobilised in a sail-bag, I decide against setting my 5 acre running sail. We’re probably near hull speed anyway; an excited chuckle is coming from beneath Sif’s bow; almost a hint of malice ?

Yum Yum insists on rowing the dinghy back to the quay. It will warm her up. I then take her back home for a nice cup of tea. My wife, Barbara, welcomes her with that classic ‘you-poor-thing-men-are-a-pain-in-the-butt’ brand of feminine empathy. By the time I appear in the sitting room, there is a strong atmosphere of sisterly solidarity. Later, I drive Yum Yum back to her digs. She looks at me for a long almond-eyed moment. I am aware of that oriental courtesy battling with the memory of freezing nigh to death on Sif. Picking her words with slow precision, she says "Thank you, I have enjoyed your company for the afternoon." She realises that I realise what she is saying – and she smiles !!

Derek Toyne, Sif

The First Full Season with Letty May

What an exciting year 2000 was! Just about everything has happened, I don’t know where to start, I suppose at the beginning would be a good place.

In April we were ready to launch for the first time and after getting the mast up took the boat to the top of the club slip. As the tide was ebbing I didn’t want to risk the car on the weed covered concrete and thought I could let her down gently on a stout rope using the car as an anchor point. The rope wasn’t as stout as I thought and after lowering it a few feet I had a riding turn, the rope parted and Letty May went down the slip like a lifeboat after the maroons have gone off ! I hung on to the bow and when all went quiet, there was Letty anchored by the trailer with me draped over the bowsprit.

Later in the season I had another dunking when sailing back to the mooring in a freshening breeze. I had one slab down and was having to feather her through some heavy gusts. There was only about 3 or 4 miles to go back to the mooring and so I couldn’t be bothered to shorten sail any more. I saw a gust coming over the water and headed up to meet it. It was very strong and hit on the beam and knocked her flat, instantly. There I was sitting on the starboard topside looking at my nice new sails in the water and at the nice new centre-plate on the other side - and wondering about standing on it to right her. The wind held her over for some minutes and I had time to thank providence for a cabin with a companionway on the starboard side and that I’d gone over to port. When the gust eased, up she popped with a cockpit full of water and me sitting in it - and with about 20 minutes of pumping ahead of me. If Letty had been an open version she’d have gone down. (Very reassuring, thanks a bundle ! Ed.) I thought about why it had happened and came to the conclusion that there was too much ballast too far forward. After shifting a lot of it further aft, Letty was drier to sail even if not so good to windward. Nick Dance, the previous custodian, had warned me that the ballast was put forward as he often sailed with four adults in the cockpit aft.

The next event ended up with a new bowsprit after breaking the old one in a collision. I was on starboard but that doesn’t really excuse me. I hadn’t expected the other boat to tack under my bow, a decided lack of foresight !

Sue didn’t escape a ducking either. I merely asked her to guide the main as I raised it, so as to make sure the topping lift ended up on the correct side of the gaff. Then as the boom came out of the gallows, it took her over the side.

There have been some good parts too. (That’s nice… Ed.) One highlight was winning the Gaffers and Classic yachts trophy at the Heybridge Regatta. It was light airs and we managed to pass most of the Smacks and Bawleys that had started 10 minutes ahead of us as well. After the handicap had been worked out we won by about 20 minutes, not bad for a short race that only took 1.5 hours.

The OGA race was fun and has already been covered by Neil Mordey (Dram). It was pretty heavy for the Memory and the short seas tended to stop us. While the big boys went through it we had to sail twice as far going up and down every wave. We certainly showed them what the Memory could do once the wind eased a bit and came aft of the beam.

Letty also showed the club cruiser racers what a gaffer can do. After much discussion about how slow gaffers are and what handicap to give us, we then took line honours ahead of a Sonata. I’ve been called "that handicap bandit" ever since. Incidently, does anyone know the Portsmouth yardstick for the Memory?

I think that one of the most satisfying results was in a 50 mile race when single handed. Letty sailed herself for most of the 26 miles upwind and then at the finish we were only about 4 minutes behind a fully crewed and spinnaker rigged Contessa 26.

We had a couple of nice weekends away and great fun at the Walton Backwaters OGA rally. BBQ on the beach on the Saturday after a long sail up and then a really nice sail up the Orwell to Wolverstone and a night at the Royal Harwich on Sunday. It was then a very long sail back against wind and tide on the Monday, but a great weekend!

We’ve got all sorts of plans for minor improvements to the boat over the winter such as a better galley area, adding running backstays, new standing rigging, improvements to the running rigging as well as all the usual painting, varnishing, oiling etc. I’ve also got one or two ideas for getting some more downwind sail on her. Watch this space.

Molly Tring contacted me the other day and revived the idea of a Memory get together in the summer, if it ever arrives. After much talk it was decided that it might be a good idea to meet on Sunday 15^th July 2001, the day after the East Coast Old Gaffers Race at West Mersea. There are some good places for a fleet anchorage on both the north and south shores of the Blackwater, depending on the wind direction and if all else fails there is West Mersea itself. It may also encourage some other visitors if there is the prospect of a good race the day before.

Nick and Sue Hillman, Letty May

(I think Nick and Sue get this year’s ‘Active Memory Sailors Award’ ! But South and West boats and crews – whatya doin’ on July 15^th next ?! Ed.)

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Happy New Year (if it's not too late).

The wet weather scuppered any chance of work on Talitha before Christmas. I managed to get the plate out for a little maintenance on the pivot hole. It had been completely jammed for the last few weeks of the season, my normal ploy of leaving the plate down about five inches (so that it clears itself each tide) having obviously failed. So I spent a happy few hours under the boat, first with a pressure washer removing Chichester Harbour mud and then with various pokers and other fire irons trying to remove a flint which was about a foot up the slot. Going on articles in the newsletter, this is widespread problem with no clear answer.

I had planned to fit my Dolphin engine this winter but as things stand it doesn't look like it is going to happen. At the moment I am fiddling around with a few cosmetic jobs and wondering whether to try and make some new side benches to replace the rather unattractive planks we have at the moment. Oh the joys of boat ownership!

Max Manning, Talitha

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Further to the sketches in the last issue showing how the East coast smacks reduced sail to suit the weather – I thought it might be worth commenting that the Memory can do the same thing, showing its authentic pedigree !

A Full sail including topsail

B Full working rig

C Working rig with one reef

D Working rig with both reefs

E Small jib and two reefs, balanced with jib set from stemhead

F No jib and scandalised mainsail, ideal for drifting down onto a mooring (or when mainsail had got stuck half way up the mast !)

A method of reducing the amount of string which lands up on the deck !

f the topsail halyard (A) is tied to the tack of the topsail, as well as the yard, when (A) is hauled down (B) goes up, easily controlled by standing on it and letting it slide as needed. (A) is then cleated off when taut and (B) is hauled taut as well, to hold the yard vertical. The result is no tangle of rope on deck. However, the sheet or outhaul (C) is used to set the topsail – and can create enough of a tangle on its own!

Greg Dalrymple, Flugel

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This will take place in Portsmouth Harbour from 24 August to 27 August. As the MOA we have had details sent to us – but for all information you can contact Paul Cantor or Brian Arnold (Tel 023 9272 5210) or Email pcanter@festivalofthesea.co.uk You can register on line through Internet at www.festivalofthesea.co.uk

Registered vessels can berth at the festival site from 1200 on Tuesday 21 August but all must be away from 1800 on Tuesday 28 August. Crews of these vessels have free access to all of the Festival events. Numbers of boats, they say, will have to be restricted and there is a selection procedure, which needs a photo and brief description of the boat etc. As trad. boats, ‘Memorys’ didn’t have any problems last time and we had seven or eight there.

The Solent Old Gaffers Association will hold its annual rally (and race ?) during the Festival – and all troop out together for a little turn or two round the buoys and back again. Greg., as a Solent OGA Committee member with a point to make, hopes we’ll have a number of Memorys joining in, at least to watch Brian Crawford and Nutkin defend their overall winners trophies. For those out in the East or West, Greg is prepared to offer free facilities for anyone trailing, to launch and get masts in etc. Out of Chichester and Hamble, it would be good to get the Memory fleet invading Portsmouth at the same time, possibly on the 24^th.

If you could let me know whether you are "on" for this event, then I can arrange to keep the group in touch with each other. The registration procedure should be done individually with the Festival organisers – gets too complicated otherwise. Talk to Greg if you’re prepared to travel from afar and would like ‘support facilities’. (Ed.)

(Post script. The Festival of the Sea organisers have introduced a selection process because of weight of numbers. This may be bad news as they are looking to reduce "duplicates". See the site for more details.)

Last updated 29/11/01

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