108 http://www.yachtingmonthly.com JANUARY 2016
THE CONFESSIONALOWN UP TO YOUR SAILING SINS
The confession of the month wins a floating
handheld VHF radio worth £140 Standard Horizon
PLUS an original Bill Caldwell cartoon
WINOWN UP TO YOUR SAILING SINS
month wins a floating
an original Bill Caldwell cartoonPOSTYachting Monthly, Blue Fin Building, Confessions,
110 Southwark Street, London SE1 0SUEMAIL
[email protected] Please send us your confessions in less than 200 wordsCaribbean cow joins in Christmas cheer
CONFESSION OF THE MONTHBy Tom CunliffeAnyone who ever sailed on one
of my Yachtmaster Instructor courses knows how strongly I feel about not leaving rope-ends lying around
when secured alongside. ‘Ends safe on the dock, lines cleated and coiled down inboard’ is the default position, but I’ve never confessed
the traumatic event that hammered the lesson into me. in the 1970s decided to anchor our boats in A group of us cruising the West Indies back
a bay at the south end of Grenada (sparsely populated in those days) for a hog roast on Christmas Day. The piglets arrived on the hoof and were humanely dispatched by the South
African contingent. went swimmingly until I decided that my boat would take less room among the crowd if I ran The fi res were lit, we sang a carol and all
out a line and lay stern to the beach. I roused out my kedge warp, rowed it ashore and secured the bight to a handy tree. I dumped the excess in a heap and went back for a
second helping of plum pudding. tucking in to my warp. I looked the cudster in the eye, gingerly took hold of my octoplait and Leaving the next day I discovered a cow
started to pull. It came out alright, yard after yard, but it was as slimy as a sand eel. When the whipped end plopped onto the sand, the cow peered at me myopically, burped, then
shambled off without further comment. The line was a bit furry, but otherwise it
down by clothing, and there was no-one to hear a cry for help; it was down to me. I fl oundered towards the pontoon and
reached up to grasp the planking. I felt a spreading numbness and sternly told myself that I had one chance to haul myself out before I ran out of strength.
below to dry off. When I arrived home next day I was wearing oilskins and carrying my sodden clothes. I had to Dripping and bedraggled, I went
ruined Christmas.’drown,’ I was told. ‘It would have confess why.‘Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t
By Chris FlanneryI was due to drop my stepdaughter, Clare, A not so salty tale
at Stintino in Sardinia for a fl ight home. We wouldn’t usually have left the harbour in a Force 6 but for Clare missing her fl ight.
went below deck to prepare dinner to fi nd water sloshing around the sole. They called up and I ran down in a panic and began After six hours’ sailing my wife and Clare
desperately searching for the source of the hull leak. As I fl apped around the boat like a junior sea-cadet my mind was racing with notions of dodgy seacocks and where I had
last seen my softwood plugs.describe as impractical and is no more than an ambivalent passenger on a yacht, dipped her At this point Clare, who I would politely
fi nger into the pool of water and tasted it. girls basked in the smug knowledge that I had ‘It’s not salty’ came her calm conclusion.I felt like a fraud taking the tiller later as the
panicked over a broken fresh water pump. I had honestly thought we might be sinking.looked OK. It took until Easter to come clean but it never let me down, and as we beat into the stiff Boxing-day trade wind to head north towards the Grenadines, I swore never again
to leave a heap of line on the dock.A Christmas Dip
Colin JarmanIt was almost Christmas Eve. The temperature was dipping and the wind rising. I wanted to make sure the boat was safe and sound, so I
decided to drive down, check the lines, run the engine, sleep on board and drive home again after breakfast. Like all good plans, it didn’t work out quite like that.
the fenders in place, so all was well. I ran the shore power cable out to put the heating on, but as I turned to walk back along the fi nger The boat was fi ne, the moorings secure and
beside the boat my foot missed the corner and suddenly I was under water.barely do it. The water was icy, I was weighed I detest swimming, largely because I can
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