On the water, Derek Toyne again picks at the finer points of sailing it proper – and of course the outboard well continues to get a tick in the box and more. Memory owners are not really interested in race results; it’s not what it’s all about – but the Memory won the class for the south’s Three Creeks Race and the OGA annual race and rally and ….

Top

(Mike’s diary included in full here, just to inspire you in times of minor difficulty, and otherwise entitled ‘King Alfreds Ships Biscuits’. Ed.)

Spring arrived and with it the torrential downpours and biting north easterlies which always seemed to coincide with the weekends, thus conspiring to delay the start of necessary repairs on Scheherazade.

When I first built the boat (from a kit supplied by the Liverpool Boat Co) the cost of stainless steel fasteners was expensive and I therefore resorted to ‘sheradized’ gutter bolts. I had my suspicions about using these but was assured by David Webster that they would be fine and see me out! I first noticed rust staining on the woodwork about 3 years or more ago and should have removed them then but as usual other things were more interesting than replacing fastenings. The job was left, until leaks started appearing and the rusting so bad that it was pushing out the plugs.

I renewed the deck cover strips round the cabin last year and so did not have to worry about those. So when the weather improved I turned my attention to the toe rail and rubbing strake. First, how best to get the rusted fastenings out and re-use the rails etc which were otherwise perfectly OK ?

I tried to undo the nuts from inside. Most were awkward to get at and rusted solid and those that did move just snapped the bolt off. Next I tried digging out the plug. This was difficult to achieve and damaged the hole, even using a 1/8" wide chisel which required very frequent sharpening because, inevitably, one caught the top of the bolt and clipped the cutting edge, requiring considerable effort to repair and besides the whole operation took too long, and then the drill skidded around on the head when trying to drill off the bolt head.

The next try was to drill through the centre of the plug with a metal drill which was a millimetre or so larger in diameter than the bolt shank. By drilling through the bolt head one hopefully separated the head from the shank and, by using a drift, punched the bolt with washer, nut et-al into the inside of the hull. This worked fine in the trial instance but it required the use of a larger drill size as I was slightly off centre of the bolt and shank. A larger drill was then used in the hole to drill out the plug and a taper drift banged into the hole in the bolt head enabling it to be lifted out. This worked for 3 or 4 bolts just fine. Then the next one was so rusted that when forced through simply split the rail. The first split was repairable but in the end I was left with so many sections of split or broken rail that I simply threw it all in a heap and rang Greg to ask whether they had any long lengths of teak. He did not but knew a man who did of course and after a brief telecon with Venture Joinery I was soon standing in their workshops watching the required lengths being cut out of a large baulk of wood.

Back home with the new wood projecting a considerable distance beyond each end of the car (sufficient also to mend the garden bench – another job on the never ending list), the work could proceed with the cutting of the timber holes and forming radius edges etc. (I had originally tried to bend the toe rail round the stem cold and broken the rail. I had to resort to laminating the fore section. This was OK for 2 or 3 years but soon failed because I had used Cascamite – a casein glue and a west epoxy would no doubt have been better).

This time, not wishing to break my expensive bits of wood, I borrowed Greg’s high tech piece of kit, namely a metal pipe wrapped with carpet and a wall paper steamer. Greg also let me borrow his rail-bending jig. This was a couple of bits of gash wood cobbled together with a very unconvincing connection which I regarded with suspicion and because my rail section was larger than Greg’s took the liberty of trying to improve by strengthening with another bit of gash. One fill of the wallpaper steamer was well sufficient to steam one and a half inch by one and an eighth round the required curve. With one length cramped to the jig I proceed to steam the other, just remembering in time to affix to the jig back to back to avoid the embarrassment of ending up with two left handed rails !

Whilst waiting for the rails to set I turned my attention to the engine which is a Vire and whilst it may be satisfactory for use on freshwater lakes in Finland, is less so in the Solent. The main problem the multiplicity of metals used in close proximity, resulting in internal corrosion of the aluminium water jacket/silencer box. By the end of last season this was so corroded and leaking that I took it off and attempted to have it welded up and re-drilled and tapped etc. For some reason however the new aluminium would not adhere to the old. It therefore needed a new box, the cost of which, on the basis of weight, must be at least £30 per pound. Thankfully the holes for the fixing studs matched and the unit went on fine, but I was unhappy about the meshing of threads on the brass Banjo fitting of the water intake pipe. The threads only just held, even with the liberal use of boss white and string. A telecon to Fairways Marine and I was assured that the tappings have not been changed or the threads altered.The next item on the list was the stern tube bearing at the outer end. The allen cap screws to the shaft coupling were cleaned off and hexagon recesses cleaned out and loosened off, to allow the shaft to be pulled out through the stern tube. I tried a puller to get the shaft bearing out but in the end resorted to a hacksaw blade and cut it into pieces, which allowed easy removal. The new bearing was offered up to the tube but would not push in and appeared to be far too big a diameter to go into the stern tube. Another telephone call to Greg – ‘oh yes’, says he, ‘they are meant to be like that, just belt it in with a piece of wood’, says he. Back to the prop shaft and how to keep the bearing square to the shaft whilst carrying out Greg’s instruction ? I could see a request for a new bearing looming on the horizon. After some thought, I decided to slip the bearing over the prop shaft with the prop still attached and the other end just engaged in the engine sleeve. With the bearing pushed up to the shaft sleeve, I closed my eyes and rammed the prop etc hard into the boat. Lo and behold - the impossible seemed to be achieved with the bearing squeezed onto the housing by one third. Several more repeats of the treatment sent it fully home, and with some assurance that the bearing, shaft etc were more or less in line.

I replaced the shaft oil seals and the shaft clamp was tightened up, but on tightening the shaft clamp the allen key slipped in the socket of the screw and as a consequence removed a sizeable chunk of my knuckle on the hull. Two other bolts failed similarly but I thought that it was tight enough, and turned my attention back to the fixing of the rails. The failure of the hexagon sockets to the head of the bolts should have rung alarm bells but more of that anon.

With the rails now fixed with a rail sized cleat between the shrouds, which I thought would be useful as a fixing point for springs, attention was given to the antifouling.

A quick couple of coats and then we would be ready for launching in time for the Three Creeks Race !

On inspection of the bottom of the boat I was horrified to see countless irregular edged holes through the gel coat. This seemed to have occurred in patches and almost looked as though someone had used a shot gun on the bottom. The more I cleaned off the loose antifouling with a scraper the more holes appeared. All were clean and the gel coat appeared to be coming off with the loose paint.

Panic call to Greg – ‘Help!’ He was not able to come round and look for some while, so in the meantime I contacted anyone I could think of to advise what best to do. I have seen osmosis on fibre glass and this tends to raise blisters, which have liquid in them that tastes of battery acid. But none of my holes seemed to have any liquid associated with them, being more like granular chips out of the gel coat. Poor lay-up seemed to be the general consensus of opinion although Greg was not entirely convinced of this. (See photos. Ed.)

Whatever the cause all were agreed on the remedial action which firstly required the total removal of 15 years at 2 coats per year of anti fouling, a process I was definitely not looking forward to. However on the first Saturday available I kitted up in old clothes, goggles, mask etc and crawled underneath to commence battle, on the hottest day of the year so far! It was very uncomfortable and it was soon apparent that my 20 year old Black & Decker sander was just not man enough for the job. The angle grinder was fished out and a sanding disc attached. This went through the anti fouling all right but it was clearly going to be difficult to stop it going through the hull as well !.

At this stage poor visibility through my old goggles and increased resistance to breathing made it apparent that other bits of equipment needed to be replaced as a matter of some urgency. At the local emporium I obtained a new mask, goggles and a special offer on two Bosch sanders. One came with a triangular head that could be connected to a hoover, and the other was circular sander with a 5 inch head that had its own dust bag. Also on impulse I bought two scrapers for 25p each, one inch wide at the tip and long and quite thin. Back to the boat and try again. After much trial and error, we found that the best approach was to chip antifouling off using the bargain scrapers. That removed all but the really stubborn areas, though it was uncomfortable and back breaking work. Then one needed to use a joiners scraper on the more stubborn areas, finishing off with the sanders as appropriate. It took two of us three complete weekends lying on our backs and working overhead; the whole exercise rated extremely low on the scale of eagerly anticipated fun ! At the end of each day, the task of getting rid of the pink hair and complexion, in spite of the use of mask and goggles, was also difficult. Even when we thought we’d had a thorough washing, we still had pink pillows the next morning.

Greg advised West epoxy with ‘chocolate filler’ for the holes. A trip to ‘Aladdins Cave’ chandlery and we found fillers of every size and hue but no ‘chocolate’. So in the end I tracked down a pack of No 403 filler and when mixed to a consistency of soft putty, it filled the holes extremely well and, with the application of a flexible pallete knife looted from the kitchen, required very little sanding to achieve a fair surface. The whole was then painted with six coats of International Gel Shield and then two coats of antifouling, all of which, including the boot topping, took another 3 days work. I finally fitted two new deck fairleads, obtained form Timage in bronze, and some Lignam vitae. I started to fix the Echo sounder - but in the end decided that it would have to wait until next year !

Our friend Bob had agreed to help with the launch so when the tide was right we loaded everything up and lashed down the mast and other bits and pieces. We loaded the car, with the dinghy, greased the wheels of the trailed, together with the brake gear and set off for the Hamble river. The road through Fairoak is not very good and the trailer bounced around despite the low speed. We arrived finally at Swanwick Hard. There was no one else there so I reversed the trailer on to the top of the hard. We got out of the car and I said to Bob, ‘that’s an odd sounding outboard I can hear ?‘ Bob’s response was that he thought the noise was coming from the wheel of the trailer (you must appreciate that my hearing is not very good). He bent down to put his ear to the wheel, which at that very moment exploded with a deafening bang. The ensuing stunned silence was broken by the cries of several hundred seagulls on the mud flats taking to the air at once. The brake dog is rather loose and had flipped over to the ratchet . I must have driven the last mile or so with the brakes partially on and the sizzling/popping noise we heard was boiling grease in the bearings. My trailer only has single wheels and therefore I use van tyres, blown up to 40/lbs pressure. The heated brake drum and the wheel had obviously raised this somewhat. The result was a 10" hole on the inside of the wheel. Had it burst inwards Bob could well have ended up in hospital.

The car jack would not fit so I unhitched. I visited the nearest tyre depot some 4 miles away, to beg a large based trolley jack. They obliged with the greasiest piece of kit I have ever seen and it was with some reluctance I loaded it into the car. However needs must and I drove back to the hard. It took some time to arrange the jack correctly to lift the boat and trailer and maintain some sort of stability on a steep, loose shingle slope. By excavating under the wheel it was possible to get the thing off without too much lift. Back to the tyre depot with burst tyre for them to fit a new one, leaving Bob to guard the dodgy set up. Back to the hard and fitted the repaired wheel. Back to the tyre emporium to return their jack and back to the hard again. The trailer was finally reconnected and moved to flatter ground and we then proceeded to erect the mast. This procedure, usually on completion, receives a round of applause from the casual and disbelieving bystanders. It is effected by lashing an old wooden extension ladder at almost full stretch to the trailer at the bottom, and to the toe rail further up with an old block tied to the top rung. This rather Heath Robinson affair allows me to stand on the deck and lift the mast as high as possible in the horizontal position and then rotate it until it is nearly vertical. With me pushing and Bob hauling on rope through the block, we are just able to get high enough to drop the mast down through the deck into the step and we then can set up the shrouds.

The trailer is then backed down the hard and into the water and unhitched, to allow the bobstay and forestay to be fixed. With a long rope attached to the trailer hitch and the car towbar we push the trailer further down the hard and into the water and tow the trailer out.

(It was at this juncture, last year, having moved the car forward towards the water, Jessica got out of the car and shut the door leaving the keys in the ignition. We all heard the central lock operate and much panic ensued when we realised that none of us had a spare key with us and the tide was rapidly rising. It would more than adequately cover the car to a depth of 6 feet or so. Luckily one of our offspring was at home and was able to bring down the spare key in time….)

Back to this year’s disaster – all the spars and gear was loaded onto the boat and the dinghy launched and tied on to the stem and the engine started. Bob was asked to push off and not wishing to get his feet wet only gave me a half hearted shove. The wind immediately started to swing us back onto the edge of the hard, and not wishing to spoil the new paintwork along the edge of the hard, I put the engine hard astern. The propeller began to bite and then the engine started to over rev. Clearly the allen cap screws to the shaft clamp had not been tightened sufficiently and the engine and shaft had parted company. The only thing stopping the shaft and prop from spiralling into the mud was the rudder. I knew we would not be able to tighten any more the screws on the clamp, however hard we might try. So we towed the boat down river with the dinghy and put it onto the mooring. On looking into the engine compartment it was obvious that the banjo fitting had also been leaking badly.

Monday morning I asked Fairways Marine to send 2 sets of cap screws for the shaft coupling and quizzed them about the banjo and was told that they now use a plastic elbow fitting. So I asked them to send one of those as well. Next weekend we went back to the boat to fix the new screws. Out comes the engine box and floorboards. We replaced the banjo with the new fitting and the cap screws and tightened up the boxing and floor boards. . Back goes the engine. We checked the running rigging and rove the topsail halyard etc and we were ready to go. We dropped the mooring and motored down river and soon reached the mouth of the Hamble. There was a nasty chop with wind over tide and as soon as the centre board was lowered water started spurting in all over the place round the centreboard casing. A quick about turn and back up river too pick up a mooring temporarily and dry things off as best we could. Break out the epoxy and a cloth cut to the right diameter and epoxy up the inadequately glassed shackle inspection ports. Break open a bottle of wine whilst waiting for the epoxy to dry. After a while we try again, this time the leak was not so bad but still too much coming in and we are pumping out a lot of water so decided to return to the mooring and let it thoroughly dry over night and then have another go at it. Halfway up the river the engine started smoking and emitted a strangled sound followed by a silence. On lifting the hatch we found that the paint on the engine, which was hammerite, was molten and bubbling. The engine was almost glowing and very very hot. Luckily the wind was in the right direction and we were able to sail back to the mooring and tie up. It was at least two hours before I could touch the engine.

I knew what the problem was. It has happened before – the impeller failed in the water pump. As always, knowing what the problem is and being able to rectify it are quite different. Once again the engine casing came off and floorboard came out. Unfortunately the water pump is sandwiched between the expansion box and the prop shaft coupling and is difficult to get at when the engine is on the bench but damn near impossible when in situ.

Once again head down and apply hex key to small cap screws to the pump. Only three quarter inch of movement is possible and by feel only. Cap screws are so rusted that the allen key just slips round and will not undo the screw. So we file a larger key to a taper and try again. One bolt comes out but the other two will just not budge. Give up and go home and spend 2 hours making a small clamp tool 3 inches long to fit over the cap screw heads, which is clamped by tightening four No 5 BA screws down the side. Serrate inner faces and harden right out. Next day new screws, impeller and gaskets arrive from Fairways and so down to the boat and try out the new clamp tool. This works and another screw comes out. Try the last one only to find that for some reason the cap head is a smaller diameter and the tool will not tighten sufficiently. I made such a good job of hardening that a file or hacksaw just bounced off. I resort to the use of a mini hacksaw to cut off the head of the screw. A very long job with very limited movements possible. Finally I am able to move the body of the pump just sufficiently to loosen the screw and then after all that it comes out with finger touch.

As I had suspected the rubber impeller had parted company from the bronze central brush and so I renew and replace the bolts, which I now note are standard head bolts. I try the engine, which surprisingly turns over and runs as though nothing had happened. Have another go at fibre glassing the inspection ports and for good measure fibreglass the top as well and fit a new neoprene gasket on the centreboard winch.

The next Saturday we dropped moorings and reach Southampton Water without mishap. Immediately sail across with a rising tide to Ashlett Creek to celebrate our first outing on water. Being mindful of the previous problems, we decide to then go up to Marchwood with the tide. The wind was gusting 4 to 5 and the Solent very lumpy because of recent bad weather but had a pleasant and fast sail up and back down again with the tide on fairly smooth water. Next week our holiday ends with the Festival of the Sea ; hooray ! Don’t you really enjoy this sailing business…………?

Mike Warren, Scheherazade

Top

Molly Tring’s Song of the Well

Whilst Molly lovingly daubed the raised rudder stock, complete with sunhat and tied to stop it blowing overboard (see picture !) she was heard singing ;-

‘Hoorah for the Well. What Well ? Greg’s Well !

It makes an outboard an inboard

And don’t we do well. It’s swell. Greg’s Well !

No more is it hell. Do tell ! Please tell !

To get in marina or port.

We go where we please. No tease ! With ease

To berth or pontoon – no ef - fort

Against wind or tide. Not wide. With pride.

A winner for all lads and lasses

So here’s to the Well. Whose Well ? Greg’s Well !

To it we all raise our glasses !

Molly Tring, Dear Grace

Top

How does your Memory run

I was talking with Greg the other day and he maintains that Flugel will sail on a run more or less unattended. You simply lash the tiller and break-out the picnic. Sif is very different. She will cream along on a close reach with a minimum of fuss – but put her on a run and all her latent insecurity comes to the surface. The slightest lapse of attention, the merest hint that she is not the centre of your universe and she reverts to capricious unreliability. To demonstrate my point ;-

We were running home with my lady helmsperson looking picturesque in a large sunhat. A substantial motor-sailer was chugging towards us on a dead up-wind course about 40 yards off to port. I had decided against setting the five acre sail but thought that goose-winging would be in order. As I encouraged the jib to fill on the port side an anguished yell came from the stern. The sunhat had blown over-board. Abandoning the tiller, my helmsperson dashed forward to the shrouds. Sif broached and set off in a determined lunge towards the motor-sailer. It looked very large, had a central bridge-deck and a helmsman at the wheel who seemed not to notice us; clearly he was not about to change course. I yelled at my luckless helmsperson to bring Sif up into wind. She, however, was more intent on recovering the sunhat, now just off the starboard quarter. I dived for the stern but of course the lady without the hat was caught between the tiller and the coaming. I could not put the helm down. Briefly I considered the chances of crossing the motor-sailer’s bow – or putting the helm up in the hope of passing her to port. Neither option felt safe without any sign of co-operation from the other party. I could see the approaching helmsman quite clearly. He looked totally stiff; stiff neck, stiff shoulders, stiff back, rather like a shop-window mannequin. He gazed directly ahead as though the Memory was invisible. I hauled my helmsperson unceremoniously out of the way. She cracked her shin on the thwart, began to cry, rammed the dripping sunhat on her head and called me a bastard. I shoved down the helm. Sif came into the wind and stopped. The motor-sailer chugged past with ten yards to spare. As she passed, the helmsman revolved slowly, stiff as a toy soldier on a turntable. I’m not sure he actually saw us; he gazed straight out over the lighthouse and into the blue beyond. His shoulders however indicated that he was pointing in our direction. That was the last I saw of him, standing back to the wheel, chugging relentlessly into Falmouth Bay.

Derek Toyne, Sif

Quite seriously though, I would be interested to know if other Memorys behave well on a run, under plain sail. But also, does Annette or any other member of the Flugel crew where a large sunhat ? (Frequently dear, but it has a nice pink ribbon under the chin so it never comes orf.. Ed.)

Standing proud at the Southampton Boatshow, the latest new Memory is Nilla (see picture page). She’s a cabin version, green hull with (of course) the outboard well. The story has to be told… but whilst displayed all pristine, a visitor to the show approached Nilla for a closer look. The vice president of Salterns Boatbuilders Incorp., tossing back her hair with the enthusiasm born of years of PR, steps up and says, ‘Would you like to look on board her sir ?’ ‘Er… well, yes I would rather’, says the visitor, ‘ you see I’m the owner.’ But the celebratory bonhomie flowed thereafter ! Peter Burr, the new owner, is based in Reading. (Annette is now based in South Georgia). Peter is new to gaff rigged sailing and will have Nilla on the River Thames for a while, pulling the bits of string and the like, before moving her to join the growing fleet in the River Dart and south west coast.

Top

A slick and sartorially sophisticated marketing team.. all dressed up in their smart ‘Salterns Boatbuilders’ designer sweatshirts, stood up well to the ten days of intense pressure. The Tela, Wagtail and the Furkin pram dinghy were allowed to join the show too. Existing owners arrived to stash their jackets in the cubby hole; the weather was mostly kind this year. From amongst those who arrive with properly pre-prepared lists of things to see and questions to ask, there were a number who went to look at the ‘competition’ – but then came back again to look again or seek out the technical and financial boss-man. I would be sadly surprised if there were not a new Memory or two in 2002 too. (Ed.)

(You may remember Déjà vu as a gentle river boat complete with sun canopy ? From the sublime to the cor blimey, our gentry who can afford pontoon moorings might reflect on Peter’s note of the tribulations of boarding which some of us face…..! )

Further short instalment on Déjà vu. Following safe arrival at Brancaster,
with the wind in the north - not the best direction for the North Norfolk
Coast -I went down a few days later to make sure all was O.K. as we had
on arrival abandoned ship in rather a hurry. I had acquired a fibrocell
dinghy and ancient Seagull outboard, which is fairly important as the
mooring is over half a mile from the hard. Pleased to report no problems but
a good opportunity to check the gear over and make everything secure.
However the boom cover was causing me to fret and I went down again the
following Sunday. The road into Brancaster gives a good view over the Wash
and it lived up to its name, looking for all the world as if someone had
emptied a giant packet of washing powder into the sea, which was a mass of
white water. Down at the staithe it was blowing strongly from the north west, leaving
Déjà vu quite exposed on her mooring by the harbour entrance and no chance
of getting out to her. I could see that the cover was still on but acting
like a sail, making the boat wrestle with the mooring chain. I walked round
the harbour and from every angle she was pitching and rolling, leaving a
nasty feeling in the pit of my stomach. I got talking to Jim who happened to
be vice -commodore of the Brancaster Staithe Sailing Club as well as looking
after the moorings. After a couple of pints in the friendly clubhouse he
agreed to keep an eye on the mooring and propose me for club membership.
Last Sunday I went down determined to get out to the boat at high tide,
although I could probably get out at other times if I drag the dinghy across
the sand. It's not easy starting a Seagull on your own in a tide. You
have to row into sufficient depth of water and then start in gear, so you’re
off immediately it starts. I managed to clap on to a fishing boat whilst I
gave the string a pull. It started second pull as per - but immediately
fouled the mooring line. No amount of tickling, pulling or cursing would
persuade it to repeat the performance and there was nothing for it but to
try and row out. I was kitted out in oilies, boots and buoyancy aid which
boosted my confidence, but nevertheless was pleased to see signs of life on
a Fairy Atlanta moored at the halfway stage. The friendly crew sported an
elderly Seagull on their dinghy and were sympathetic, offering to heat up
the plug on their gas ring. This was welcome respite from rowing against wind and tide but didn't improve the starting ability of the engine. In the end the skipper kindly
towed me out to Déjà vu. The fresh north westerly made boarding interesting,
but pleased to say all was well and I was able to do the jobs I had tasked
myself - including taking off the cover which I felt was doing more harm
than good flogging in the wind. A cockpit cover should answer over the
winter. My troubles were not over as on the way back I missed a stroke, fell off the
thwart and lost an oar, managing to get to the hard Indian style in time for
last orders. Things can only get better ?

Top

The Solent Old Gaffers Race 2001 

The morning of the race we attended the impromptu pre-race meeting near the crew centre at Portsmouth International Festival of the Sea. The briefing was amusing but the organiser’s gave little away other than it was South-east start at 12.00 midday, somewhere near Horse-Sand Fort. We were advised to start early as with all the displays and officialdom, there were likely to be delays in leaving Portsmouth Harbour.

The day was quiet with a forecast for 2 to 3 force winds and a calm sea. So we took down the bunting and hoisted everything on board and set out for the start line. Max and Talitha left with us. We motored down the channel past the IFOS marshals and then had to motor on out as there was very little wind. When we reached the end of the small boat channel we spied another Memory, with a bright blue hull that we did not know (Nutkin?) and also saw that Merganser and Mike Brackstone had also joined us. We slopped about for a bit trying to find the Committee boat and start line and, with everyone else, waited for 12 noon. There were at this time only the answering pennant flying on the Committee boat, and at 12.15 they finally flew the flag for the chosen course. It was the usual Old Gaffers start, one five minute gun, followed several minutes later by another but the start flags had not been lowered. Had we started or not ? By then it was apparent that everyone was heading for the first mark and by luck we were just on the start line in quite a good position. We have never sailed in this area before and really had no idea where the marks were. So plan A was to follow the one in front.

Helm over and sheets hauled in and we set off in about eighth position. The larger boats were upwind, one of which was Airlie; she must have shot away very fast. By this time the wind had picked up and was a good force 3 – 4. We passed the first mark leaving it to port and set off for the second one a good way away towards the Nab Tower east of the Isle of Wight. We had to put in several long tacks to claw up to windward to round the mark. The day was misty and we could not see the mark much of the time. Then we saw that Airlie had rounded the mark and was well ahead. The wind increased to 4 –5 and on this tack the sea was quite lumpy. We thought about taking down the topsail and then dismissed the idea as we would loose time. At this point we had slowly been losing ground to a larger gaffer and Rula, also behind, gradually come up to us. We lost half a mile as the crew/navigator took us round the south cardinal instead of the north cardinal. We rounded this mark at last and then set of towards the third mark, the Winner buoy, which was back towards the coast. We sailed on a fast reach with all of us (except J.) sitting on the rail to balance the topsail. The lee rail was now under the water in the gusts and J. (who prefers to sail in the upright position) retired to the cabin. Rula passed us but we kept her within a few hundred yards all the way to the turning mark. I looked around and expected to see lots of boats close behind but there was a big gap between us and those behind. At this point we let out the sails with the wind behind us and set off for Southsea Pier turning mark. We had a fast and smooth sail, gull winged and caught Rula up a bit. Towards the Horsesand Fort the wind began to die and we just rounded fort and made the turning mark in time. We understand that those behind us, including some well known names in the Memory archive, had real difficulty in rounding the fort. But we were just able then to sail slowly towards the finishing line off Southsea Castle. It was chaos at this point in front of Portsmouth Harbour. A ferry was coming out and police launches were clearing a pathway among the many small boats We finally took in the sails and motored up the channel into the harbour. We moored up, hoisted the bunting and opened a well earned bottle of wine. Several of the gaffers were quite a time coming back after us so we felt we had acquitted ourselves fairly well. Talitha and our friends in a Shrimper said that the wind had died on them just before they got to the Horse-Sand Fort. The tide was such that they were swept back and unable to round the mark however hard they tried and had therefore to give up and motor back. But the Memorys strike again; we were very pleased to be placed first in our class. Nutkin and Brian Crawley came third in class this time – and so passed on the trophy of last year to another Memory.

Top

(In the rush and busy business of life, people post up little bits of news which are always very welcome. Some since last time :-

From Richard Dodds (Elwing) ‘Truly sorry for not putting pen to paper; there’s a person who writes somewhere inside me but I’m always too busy/tired/distracted/lazy (!) But I’ve lots of things to say about my love affair with the Memory, especially having been involved with her in the very early days in Lymm. I was glad however to see Greg’s outboard well up and running. I can remember talking to Eric B about it pre Salterns days and later cursing not having one on several choppy late night jaunts to the Pandora pub, when trying to motor-sail back home to Flushing, with the Seagull prop. spinning uselessly at every gust and crest. Not to mention the times a gybe would threaten to dump it in the drink. You see… if only I get in the right mood I could ramble on for hours. To be honest, and it’s a little sad, but Elwing is laid up in Malvern at present. Maybe I too will have to wait on retirement..’

From John and Zoe Turner (Soraya) ‘…doing a major refit so no sailing so far this season’.

From Charles Peebles (Daisy) …should have written in to you ages ago but it kept escaping my mind. As you see, we have temporarily moved to New Zealand for about a year. Daisy is laid up in Hampshire. Unfortunately she hasn’t been out in the last two seasons, but we have great plans for 2002 when we return !’

From passing by at the Soton Boatshow, discovered that a Bergvist Memory called Thought is in UK but the owner, David Pereira, is normally resident in Abu Dhabi, sailing alongside David Sutton and Troost. He’s going back to the sun, warm water and breezes and perfect picnics on empty beaches – he says. No grit some people…..

Swallow, a 1977 Memory, resides on the Cork coast of Ireland, with London based owner Julian van Hasselt going over to sail in empty silence whenever there’s a need to get the hell out of it.