Ann Miles' review of the Rutland cruise

It's great to have a different take on the day's event. This review was written by Ann for 'Haverchat', the Haversham Sailing Club journal. Ann has kindly sent us the article for the blog. The bottom 2 pictures where taken by David Hodson; A convention of Gulls at Dave's home and the miss named laying-up supper as most of us will continue sailing through the winter regardless.

GO GULLS GO!

I am an unadventurous sailor and have only rarely ventured beyond the security of the Haversham race circuit, but lately I have started fidgeting to stretch my boundaries. As those unfortunates who have tried crewing with me know, I am not especially competitive and just as often enjoy the scenery and fresh air as much as the race.

 Then Gill Thompson acquired a Gull called Felicita and began to look to see what she could with it. She contacted a loose association of Gull sailors who meet to enjoy cruising together and went out crewing for a day. She returned determined to sail Felicita next time. I agreed to go with Gull 2603, but backed out at the thought of preparing her for cruising; all those slightly frayed ropes to replace, the horrors of trailing and I have no idea where the mast prop is. Gill was more focused and set to work to learn to trail and to fit out Felicita with everything that was needed. Ultimately, I agreed to crew with Gill for the day out on Rutland Water. We both spent an anxious week: I worried about my ability to sail anywhere that wasn’t Haversham and Gill worried about trailing the boat.

 On Saturday 29th October, we met Chris Abela (known to many Haversham sailors as a Lightning sailor but a great fan of the Gull) [First and foremost I'm a Gull sailor! Chris]. and 4 other boats at Whitwell on Rutland Water. So it was a fleet of six who set sail together into Whitwell creek. As we struggled to get going, the keel boats, moored on the pontoon, jeered “It’s livelier out there!” When we rounded the point, the wind hit us, and yes, it was lively and it would have had me running for cover in gusty, swirly Haversham. But this wind didn’t do that, it stayed coming from the south-west at the same rate all the time. I helmed the outward leg and it was fabulous, some of my most enjoyable sailing ever. On the lovely long tacks, Gill and I settled into comfortable positions with only the slightest balancing work needed. I am ashamed to say that I followed Chris like glue as we picked our way between racing and fishing boats. Soon enough, our little fleet had dispersed and Chris hove to in order to wait. Now this was a challenge for me, either sail on alone (scary) or try to remember Steve’s efforts to teach me “Seamanship Skills” and heaving to. “I don’t do stopping” I shouted, but Gill was on the ball with “Just copy Chris” and there we were, properly hove to in lots of wind. What an achievement!

 The fleet regrouped and we flew on down the South Arm of Rutland Water. The Gulls sliced through the waves and the spray flew. Just as I was beginning to feel my bottom go numb, Chris headed for our picnic spot. When I looked again, Chris and his crew Jo were engaged in a very inelegant activity which involved lying on the shore next to their boat and waving their arms. The truth was soon revealed. A kindly (ha! ha!) fisherman pointed out that we had chosen the muddiest spot on the whole of Rutland Water for our picnic. Thigh deep mud in the water and along the shoreline plus a layer of our favourite Canadian Weed meant stepping out and sinking into deep silt. To think Gill had just mentioned that we didn’t have any way of washing our hands before eating! Eventually a crowd of unsavoury mud larks settled on the bank for one of the most amusing meals ever. After a time I looked up and saw a weather front approaching rapidly and Gill decided to start the complex business of extracting the boat from mud and weed to launch.

 It was Gill’s turn to helm, with increasing wind on the starboard back quarter (if you see what I mean). We sped down the lake and were just wondering how to negotiate our way round some serious looking racers when the Gull on our port caught an unfortunate gust and capsized. Gill said (very calmly, given the circumstances) “I can’t do anything to help, I can’t turn round”. We ran before the wind while I watched the capsize. Years of cautious sailing at Haversham paid off as we took a safe approach and landed on the bank to put in a reef for the remainder of the journey.

 Now the wind was really screaming and the lake was very busy with windsurfers, a Contenders' race, the “Rutland Belle” pleasure steamer and us, tiny, reefed and lost! I had completely forgotten where Whitwell creek was situated! I sent Gill too far in the wrong direction which meant we had to go back up the lake and found ourselves in the middle of the Contenders, shooting at us from all directions with trapezes out – there was no way out other than a determined tack mid race. It was time to head across the rollers into Whitwell.

 And what happened next? Well, all good adventure stories finish with a slap up feast –in this case, dinner at a delightful village pub in Greetham, 4 miles down the road from Rutland Water. If this is cruise sailing, I’m on board.

 Oh, the capsize was recovered perfectly in the classic style and benefited from a good wash, unlike the rest of the mud soaked fleet.

Ann Miles.