admin Date , October 5, 2025 Sailing Previous Blog Doldrums Last Comments (0)
Storm Amy may have passed, but her tail-end left a chaotic day of sailing in her wake. With winds measured at 9 mph and gusting up to 20 mph, we were left wondering — to reef or not to reef?
Local knowledge told us that while the wind howls outside the club, just a little upstream the tree cover often turns it into a ghost breeze. So, we gambled and went with full sails. Time-lapse Video at the bottom of the page
As if the wind wasn't enough, the Commodore, who was Officer of the Day, informed us that the safety boat crew hadn't turned up. Without volunteers, there would be no racing. Paul and I stepped forward — but so did my wife Rosamund, who had come to take photos and film.
She took to the Dory safety boat, with Steve Flemming driving, laid the marks, and prepared to double as both camera crew and rescue support.
Boats on the line: a Phantom, Firefly, National 12, Laser, Lightning, and our RS Toura.
As the horn sounded, the Phantom charged ahead, followed closely by the National 12 and Firefly. We kept our place in the middle of the fleet — until the wind gusted hard.
At the top mark, the Lightning capsized, flinging Keira into the river. Almost simultaneously, Ray in the Laser went over too, just metres away.
Paul wisely chose a 270° tack around the mark instead of a gybe, and we stayed upright. It was too windy to photograph, but we held our nerve and finished — just ahead of Ray and Keira.
Five minutes later, we were back in the wind. Keira sat this one out in a hot shower.
We were off the line quickly, but on the wrong tack, and the leaders surged past. We battled on until a misjudged tack near the sunken tree caught our rudder on a submerged branch.
No safety boat in sight — they were helping Ray at the top mark — so we were on our own.
We dropped the mainsail and relied on the jib.
I slipped into the cold water and thick silt, sinking to my knees. Waist-deep, I pushed us free and with little grace I clambered aboard, soaked and muddy. Filling the boat with Muddy water. We limped back across the river only using the jib to the club. As I got out my sallopets were filled with muddy water and as I undid the velcro at the bottom a surge of water rushed out onto the hard.
We didn't capsize, but we did everything else: volunteer, rescue, tack, battle gusts, and get stuck in the mud. Storm Amy may be gone, but she left behind a story worth telling.
