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Introduction from the Editor My Awfulest Disaster It all goes wrong for Derek Ted Mason musing on Newtown Creek Black Pig to Queen of the River IntroductionA bit later than hoped for, again, but this is the “early season” edition of the Newsletter 2000. As three a year, it’s sort of settling down to an ‘early season’, ‘end of season’ and ‘depth of winter’ editions. I think I’ll still label them as the month of the year though, despite the fact that it will give the archivists of 2050 AD a bit of a problem. Yes, Memorys will still be around then. It’s a bit slimmer this time but the last two were getting larger than I had originally intended anyway. But that was due to the excellence and volume of contributions and long may that last. Thanks to the people who have written in since the February edition. I tend to reproduce letters automatically as you see, because exchange of chat is the purpose. Sometimes I’ll appropriately edit and the bits about intimate personal details during overnight anchoring in lonely bays are tactfully removed. So if you say or send anything to me – please let me know if it’s not to be passed on. I do hope though I’m not putting anyone off ; I need your contributions please in any form. Even a telephone chat that I can write up and then a prior check with you to see if it’s OK – is fine. You should find enclosed with this edition the annual update of the list of Memory owners. I hope I’ve kept up to date with the goings and comings but there’s always more than a slight chance of an omission or slip up somewhere, so tell me if I’ve got it wrong. Terry Collins, Adrienne V My Awfulest DisasterOne of my worst was described in Classic Boat (No 80, Feb ’95) and does not bear repeating in detail. However, the important lesson learned is still worth stressing; never go on the foredeck with one dilapidated sandal. Let the reader imagine the rest and beware. The really awfulest though occurred when we were on the mooring. We had decided to give “Sif” a second jib halyard, which of course then involved going up the mast. For those who do not know me, I should explain that I am about five feet seven tall with a round face, thinning white hair and a grizzled beard. This perhaps gives the impression of someone who carries a certain amount of ballast , although in fact I am scrawny and weigh less than my son Robin. But as a result, I was the one to sit in the bosun’s chair whilst Robin hauled on the throat halyard. All went well to start with and I lightened Robin’s load by heaving myself up on the other mast ropes. Robin tied off when I reached the top but I still needed a couple of more inches to achieve the crucial position. Then I noticed that the throat halyard blocks were a fraction apart. I took hold of the top of the mast, heaved myself up and shouted down to Robin to take up one more pull. He did – and wound my beard between the halyard and the sheave through the block ! The moral of this story is that however good your sandals, you should not pretend to be a jolly jack tar when in truth you are a dilapidated ditch crawler. Derek Toyne, Sif ( Yes, but the last edition asked also for how one got out of it – or is that how Derek became clean shaven ? Ed.) Musing on Newtown CreekNature
lovers and ornithologists will no doubt be aware that the countryside seems to
shrink with every passing hour. The traditional habitats of some of our most
common wildlife are disappearing, and often the creatures with it. Some, like
the fox, have adapted to urban life but often as not, the place to seek our
shyest creatures is far away from civilisation. Now
you might ask, "Where would that be?" and I could only suggest
dangerous places to reach, military firing land, restricted areas around
airports and so on. However, if you have a shallow draft boat, like a Memory,
that can dry out on soft mud, shingle or sand without tragic results, then a
whole undisturbed region of countryside and inland waterways is open to you. So
it was that old seadog Sam and I set a South Westerly course towards one of the
two most tranquil places known to man; Newtown Creek. (The other one I will keep
a secret for a while longer as there are perhaps only a few hundred persons who
know about it to date). At
Ashlett Creek, we had seen the usual rabbits and the occasional common fox in
the early mornings and at dusk. Between these times the inquisitive antics of
sparrows kept us amused, as did the drunken dances of cabbage white butterflies.
As Ashlett dried out, we watched a lonely Redshank dip its beak into the soft
mud on the port side of the boat, and high on the woodland side was the sound of
an invisible lark. Once
out into Southampton water we raised the mainsail, unfurled the foresail and
struggled with the topsail. High overhead flew a pair mute swans, scattering the
gulls as they made their straight course up the estuary towards calmer waters
and people who might feed them. The isolate black shape of a common shag sat on
the black and yellow Calshot buoy marking the centre of the channel. It watched
us cautiously until we invaded its space. It then fell from its perch, soared up
a few feet and then began flapping its ragged black wings frantically to gain
speed and distance away from the threat. Very
little interrupted our voyage to Newtown on the Isle of Wight. Two hours later
we approached the narrow and curved entry . Shingle banks on either side crowd
the yachts into a small channel hardly wide enough for two large boats to pass.
Once through, the water opens out once more into a calm pool that is the join
between two arms of the little natural harbour. However, while I was getting the
topsail down and preparing to pull down the main, a large training yacht decided
to flout all the rules of the road by flying out through the entrance on the
wrong side. This put it on a collision course and, being bigger than us, Sam was
faced with turning sharply to port across her bows, or go about to starboard 180
degrees and risk hitting the shingle bank. He thought it wisest to risk the
latter, shouted me a warning and pulled the tiller hard over. I could only stand
by the mast and watch as Merlin turned in what seemed a wide circle, the plate
scraping the first of the shingle.
Now into the wind we tacked out to safe waters and finished taking down the
sails (which is probably what we should have done in the first place!). I always
thought that RYA training was supervised! Most
yachts anchor or pick up a mooring in the main channel to port (Clamerkin Lake)
and towards the site of the old town, which was once the capital of the island
and sacked by Vikings and nasty Frenchies. This is in itself a wonderfully
tranquil and undisturbed place of refuge, but for serious isolationists the
better course is up the starboard arm of the water to the "Western
Haven". There are requests not to anchor in the Newtown River and further
up Clamerkin Lake because of oyster beds. However in a Memory you can, at
half/high water, go right up Western Haven until you run out of water. Dry out
on the Western side of the channel where there are no signs of oyster beds and
secure the boat with an anchor or shore line. Up here you will be very unlucky
to see or hear a living soul (well an occasional high flying aircraft perhaps). The
utter peace of this place, in the midst of National Trust property, encouraged
Sam and I to remain on deck or in the cockpit throughout the day and well into
the night. I prepared a meal and we downed a bottle of Chilean red wine as the
sun went down. As
it is so inaccessible, except for a small boat, the wildlife seen on the banks,
on the water and on the mud/sand at low water is worth the trip. Indeed on
returning there with Liz in 1998, we were perhaps the first to see flocks of
Little (white) Egrets that were blown North into the Solent and across as far as
Christchurch that year. These are small snow white herons seen in the wetlands
of Southern Europe, not often seen so far North. Sam pointed out a grey heron
that was unobtrusively picking a delicate way through the marshes.
Oystercatchers and Redshanks busied themselves in the shallows, trawling for
food. With
dusk, rabbits appeared along both banks and I spotted a very large variety. Sam
said it was a Hare. A fox sniffed its way along the Western bank and disappeared
into the woodland as overhead flocks of rooks noisily roosted. On another visit
I saw a badger briefly on the same bank, sniffing the air before scuttling into
the undergrowth. As
the water floods in Merlin drifts around to face it, and with the ebb she once
more faces the woodland. The view slowly changes and mesmerises those lucky
enough to witness it. With the flood I rowed up to an old bridge, letting the
current take the inflatable and using the oars only to steer. I recall my first
visit here in a Devon Yawl, when my friend Paul and I rowed a little beach
inflatable up to this bridge. We tied it up on the bank and walked East, along a
farm lane to a pub. It has probably disappeared by now, as even then it was
empty except for us. A
lack of comforts and facilities usually means that one night is enough, then we
must rejoin reality by heading off towards Yarmouth...now there is another
story! Ted Mason, Merlin 'Armchair Sailing'The
'nice cover' to The Magic of the Swatchways in Keith's article is a photo of
Andy and Jayne Rule's beautiful Colchester smack 'Ellen'. Her number, CK222,
gives her the nickname 'Three Swans'. She is pictured sailing down Sea Reach on
the River Orwell. I can be reasonably sure in my assertions as the
"Good-looking fellow taking an intelligent interest in the fore-sail
set," or, as it has been unkindly remarked on the East Coast, " The
fool on the front doing his Emperor penguin impression," is your
correspondent! My excuse is that we had just been poured out of the Butt and
Oyster at PinMill and were not in our usual sparkling racing form. 'Light
boards' I
came up with a similar design for the light boards but I made mine with the
whole of the nasty plastic bits removable. This leaves a plain board, less for
the sheets to catch on, permanently attached to the shrouds. I also put some
small cleats on the inboard side to
take flag halyards etc. away from the mast. 'Mast
wedges' To
continue the mast wedges debate - I made a mix of hard and soft wood segments
but I, or rather the talented friend who offered to make them for me, left a lip
on the top edge to stop them slipping out - especially during setting the mast
up. This lip is also routered out to take the lower sealing cord of the rubber
collar-seal on the mast thus stopping it riding-up. Neil Mordey, Dram Aunty Sif’s Problem ColumnDear Kate, I like my bottom anti-fouled every year and this is general practice in Falmouth. Of course, the water here is warmer than in some ports and it may be that the nasties grow more quickly. If you are one of those healthy cold bath boats, you might get away with less. Probably best to ask the neighbours. Incidentally, anti fouling is not nearly such a dreadful job if you use one of those sponge, throw away paint rollers on the end of a long broomstick handle. (Dead right ! I borrowed the one at Salterns this year and it rolled on a treat. No more lying flat on ones back to be of service if you know what I mean. Adrienne V.) Dear Merganser, Do not worry, you are not overweight, whatever Mike may say. It takes some time to get a Memory on the move but once you are under way you will slide along with very little effort from the sweeps. I have rowlock plates on the side decks just inside the toe-rail and raised on wooden pads one inch high. My sweeps are eight feet six inches long and just fit inside my standard Memory cuddy. They are heavily built and seem a fraction short. Perhaps though, yours at ten feet are a fraction long ? With the boom hoisted on the topping lift, it is quite possible for one person to stand in the cockpit facing forwards to row, though it is easier with one rower to each sweep. My sculling oar is precisely cockpit length, so it may be a bit short for your ingenious arrangement. I intend however to give it a go this summer. Thanks. Lazy Jack and Jibs
Opposite are sketches of the very minor amendments for this year I hope,
together with the David Sutton version of mast wedges. As a total rigging
amateur, anyone who has taken these arrangements for granted or has suggestions
for improvement – please comment. My topping lift runs from the end of the boom. With a ‘new’ Memory, the
sheer volume of crackling sail, which heaps on the cockpit floor when getting
the main down quickly, somewhat impedes quick movements. With lots of time and
another pair of willing hands – it’s not really much of a problem. But
single handed, it would seem a great advantage if the sail and the gaff behaved
itself for a while above boom height. It could be simpler I suppose to run the
topping lift from and to a couple of cleats towards the end of the boom to
encompass the lowered gaff. But
that loses the double purchase of the sketched arrangement and I like having all
the sail ropes to pull in one place, on the pin-rail near the mast. “Adrienne V” doesn’t have a cabin in the way. So this
seemed to me a better arrangement. Would one lose any ‘ease of pull’ with
the insert sketched ‘alternative’ I’ve been in a couple of situations when I really needed to dump sail at fairly short notice. With reefs in the main, the normal ‘big’ jib is definitely too much. So, ex Greg, I’ve got the small foresail but confess I’ve never yet used it. Getting the big jib off and fixing the small one to the same halyard, whilst the dark low cloud looks to loom 100 yards to the left – doesn’t appeal. So the idea of bringing it in-board with the tack located at the stem-head and having a separate halyard for the small jib seems better. Also by using two blocks at the tack, it means being able to get extra tension on the luff. And having an outhaul arrangement like this, one can then rig the sail top and bottom from the safety of the cockpit and run it out when the large jib is furled. With the big jib half out (not what the Wykham-Martin is meant to do of course) – I could even pretend to be a cutter ! It means a separate set of jib-sheets as well but one would normally do that for speed of change anyway ? Any views ? Terry Collins, Adrienne V From
down in the Middle East
Latest
edition arrived this morning. Another
good'un. Read it cover to I
don't know if it will help, but on the subject of sail prices, I would Just
to let you know, we were caught out on an offshore island over the heavily
laden boat (we never travel light) we hammered through this lot for Very
interested in the engine debate. As
you know, we fitted an outboard well,
with the engine permanently stuffed through a hole just forward of the rudder.
This has been a very economical solution, although a chunk of the The
technology has improved immensely in this area.
As a naval architect, I Enjoyed
the news on the centreplates too. I
wonder if it is feasible to David Sutton, Troost Black
Pig to Queen of the River
Well
! Shiver me topsides, how’s this for a transformation. See the ‘advert’ on
the picture page ! Peter Harrold
writes;- ‘Remember
the Black Pig? Well now she's 'Deja Vu' ( Memory?) and fitted out, temporally,
as a picnic boat! A joiner and
glazier friend (now boat builder?) has done a lovely fit-out - mahogany floor,
ply lockers and side seats. We've put a canopy on her and she's the prettiest
boat on Brayford Pool. Licensed by BWB for eight passengers and
two crew, we take charter parties up the river to either the Pyewipe or
Woodcocks pub. For my daughters tenth birthday party last September we took all
the family - a total of thirteen. We've
had champagne trips, seafood buffets etc. I hope MOA members are not too upset
by this non-conformist approach - it is only temporary until I get her rigged
for sailing ! The cockpit was cut out for a cabin and so extends nearly to the
tabernacle. I'm toying with the idea of a small, low removable cabin - she will
need some forward cover before she goes back to sailing. PS
There's also a good picture on our web site marygordon.org.uk
Click the pic. to see it larger. Talitha's
excuses
Having
started the winter thinking I would not do too much to Talitha I made the
mistake of deciding to replace some of the original and very rusty steel bolts
that hold her together. I now have the cockpit coaming off and rubbing strake
and toe rail removed on one side. A small pile of expensive Iroko sits in my
garage awaiting steaming! Somewhere
along the line the after bulkhead came out as well, and the horse is off so I
can strengthen the joint between the aft deck and the transom. I
have also just decided to have a go at fitting the old Dolphin engine that has
been in my garage for too long. This is mostly because my trusty Seagull is (A)
very noisy and (B) needing a new gearbox. The man at Dolphin reckons to tart up
the old engine for about the same price as a new Seagull gearbox. OK, I still
need to find the rest of the bits such as prop. shaft, exhaust and so on (any
ideas?). Doesn't look good for May but I'll give it a shot. In
the meantime... Dear
Editor I
was very sorry to read about David Sutton's problems with his annulus (February
2000 MOA News). Nonetheless I do see it as a positive indication of the
close-knit community of Memory owners that he is able to talk freely about such
matters without embarrassment. I
have never been to the Middle East myself (although I did once holiday on the
Norfolk Broads) and so have little knowledge of food in that region. However,
down here on the South Coast it is common to include plenty of fibre in the diet
to avoid the sort of problems David is experiencing. If the problem is of a more
tactical nature, a couple of pints of home brew and a vindaloo will see him
right............... Max Manning, Talitha |
Last updated 29/11/01Copyright © Memory Owners Association |
