Tampilkan postingan dengan label duckpunting. Tampilkan semua postingan
Tampilkan postingan dengan label duckpunting. Tampilkan semua postingan

Yacht Boat Plans | Meander 2011 Part 1 From tadpole to opera

| 0 komentar |

Yacht Boat Plans


Many, many rowers, myself included, row regularly on one of the 45 stretches of the Thames between locks. We often race on another two or three. 

But that leaves an awful lot of Britains most famous river left to explore, which was one of the best bits of this 135 mile skiffing tour from Lechlade to Teddington over an Easter weekend.

There were also chocolate eggs, history lessons and a Handel aria in an unexpected place.


Event: Private Expedition
Where: Lechlade to Teddington, on the River Thames
Distance: 124 miles
Locks: 44 
Time: 4 days – it was a tour!
Boat type: Thames skiffs
Number of crews in the event: 6
Event Organiser: www.tvsc.co.uk (ourselves)


Why this chunk of the Thames?
The source of the Thames is near Cricklade in Wiltshire, but its too narrow to be easily navigable at that point, and Lechlade is held to be the top of the navigable Thames. Teddington, some 135 miles, 44 locks and a drop of 225ft towards sea level.

We rowed to the Boundary stone which is about 100m below Teddington lock, marking the official start of the tidal Thames, and so our course covered the entire navigable, non-tidal Thames. Its good to have very specific challenges.

If it wasnt a race, what was it?
The tour was the 2011 edition of a regular event undertaken by most of the Thames racing skiff clubs. My club, Thames Valley Skiff Club, hadnt done one for some years, so the old hands were keen to do it again, and the six of us who hadnt done it at all were just plain keen.

The cast list
Our little flotilla comprised five coxed doubles and a crazy lady in a single. The skiffers in some of the doubles swapped round according to various schedules that best suited the personnel involved, whilst others skiffed the whole way, being steered by a rota of volunteers.

And the production team
The whole trip was only made possible by the stalwarts of the land team, who packed bags into the minibus, made sandwiches, went shopping, drove around like demons (observing the Highway Code at all times, of course), and had the beer in the fridge at the end of each day. 

They were supplemented by other Club members who appeared without warning at various points along the route, which was always a nice surprise for us and, actually, allowed them to enjoy feeling part of the whole thing too. Never underestimate the pleasure thats to be had in playing a part in an expedition, however small – people really enjoy helping, so dont be afraid to ask, if youre planning one.


Lock 1 of 44.
Up the pointy end
The River Thames in Lechlade is totally unrecognisable as the same river that may of us row on in Oxford, Reading, Henley, Walton and elsewhere. Its narrow, and its extremely bendy – in places, like a bunch of sine waves huddling together for warmth.

Another way in which the upper reaches of the Thames differs from the lower stretches is that until you get to Oxford, the locks all have to be mechanically operated. So the plan was that members of our land team would try to get to each lock before us and have the gates open so we could just row straight in. This didnt quite work, in fact the illustration above was the ONLY lock they actually got to at the same time as us. Although they were invaluable in many other ways and frankly did jolly well given one of them had only passed her driving test two weeks before and neither had much knowledge of M4-corridor geography. Or so it later became clear.

Are the wiggles in the river like a tadpoles tail?
Arguably, yes. But the tadpole of the day is Tadpole Bridge. Whence this idyllic scene of rural navigation was taken. This is just a straight forward photo – there has been no retouching of the colour of the sky or the calmness of the water. Exquisite, isnt it?

Gotcha!
The next surprise for us meander novices was the string of concrete pill boxes along the banks at frequent intervals. Wed heard of the Maginot Line but had no idea that there was a Meander Line that provided the final line of defence before invading Nazis reached the Midlands manufacturing base!

We noted 27 of these. And then lost count. They ran out before Oxford. Maybe it had other ways of defending itself? Invader (and anyone else for that matter)-repelling piles of student laundry, perhaps?

One of the pill boxes had had a piece of plastic pipe humorously inserted in the gun slits, to look like the barrel of a bazooka. Now, I realise thats not going to go viral on a social networking site as "the funniest thing you ever saw", but in the general atmosphere of bonhomie that went with unexpectedly good Spring weather, and lovely English countryside this brought smiles all round. Sorry that I omitted to take a photo - were repeating the trip with new club members in April 2014, and its top of my "must snap" list.

Wherere you walk... or row
Sometime around mid-afternoon, we approached Oxford, where the river splits in two. Half of it goes off sightseeing round town for a bit, whilst we stuck to the other bit which is consequently rather thin, and also shaded by tall trees, houses, and what I think was once a brewery. We then squeezed our six boats into Osney lock, along with a narrow boat, and a punts. 

Every lock was an opportunity to chat with the other crews about the highlights of the previous stretch of river, and to swap possibly unwanted reports on the current states of hands, knees and boomsydaisies. With all this going on, it took us a few seconds to realise that, as the lock gates were swung shut by the look-keeper (thank you, sir!), a good, old-fashioned, "his masters voice" type gramophone player was being wound up in the punt. 

And then a gentleman stood up in the said punt, and launched into the famous aria "Whereer you walk", from Handels opera Semele. Only in Oxford. With the exception of the one with the topiary (more on this in a future post), it was without doubt the most unusual lock experience of the trip, and its not easy for a 1790 lock to get noticed.

The verb "to dongol"
Whilst rowing is an efficient way of propelling a boat through water, one of the biomechanical aspects of it which makes it so efficient, is the fact that the blades are quite long, and pivoted at just the right point on the edge of the boat. Which means that rowing boats cant easily be propelled through narrow spaces.


This man is dongoling.
His girlfriend, in the foreground, is apparently
not interested in joining in.
Now, if youre in a traditional racing boat, theres previous little you can do about this. But in a skiff, which is wide, and is stable in its own right – not needing the blades sticking out the side to give stability in the manner of a tightrope walker – you have an alternative method of propulsion, when youre in a tight spot. And that is to stand up and "dongol" the boat as if it were a Canadian canoe.

As the trip went on (and this is still only day 1 of 4), our crew got very slick at dongoling out of locks like our lives depended on it – each of the 2 skiffers grabbing a blade on the opposite and pre-determined side, paddling out, and then pirouetting round, dropping the blade neatly between its thole pins, flicking the other one out, and skiffing off. Not that were competitive or anything.

At summer skiff regattas, there are sometimes "fun" races at the end of the day which often include a "dongola" race - lots of people paddling with small paddles in a wide punt, one of which invariably slews right off course, probably crashing into the other boat, and certainly getting everyone very wet as a water fight ensues. Anyway, thats just some added colour about dongoling. 

Day 1 over
After an interminable wait at Iffley lock, at the bottom of the stretch on which the Oxford College crews row (except they werent, because it was Easter weekend, and well out of term time), where our senses of humours were getting rather tired, and even the sight of a plastic heron failed to cheer us up much, we eventually reached Radley College, where we had arranged to leave the boats for the night.

The main questions in our minds at that point were, "Will the City of Oxford Rowing Club bar be able to revive our flagging spirits?", and "Whats for supper?". (By the way, the chocolate eggs and history lessons are in the next blog posting.)

Do you find information about Yacht Boat Plans are you looking for? If not, below may help you find more information about the Yacht Boat Plans. Thank you for visiting, have a great day.
Read More..

Boat Plans And Kits | WOE and DUCKPUNTING or Dory Dan Bailing His Punt

| 0 komentar |

Boat Plans And Kits


WOE

Intrepid Readers and Mates, ahoy. I unfortunately announce the passing of Count Gregoire de Frontenac, adventurer, philosophe, and beloved brother-in-law.  He now sails the night skies into the oblivion of which we must all follow.

He always hated this portrait

You may remember Count Gregoire from the breathlessly exciting Amateur Hour installment: BILTREK2012 (legendary) and a short follow up featuring his futuristic Ship of Tubes and Plastic Bags in Count Gregoire de Frontenac Goes On Adventure. I for one will certainly miss Count Gregoire quite deeply. And so, with him in my heart and mind, I decided to go DUCKPUNTING!  (trumpets!)

YES DUCKPUNTING! Duckpunting makes all things straight and good, and I decided what a better day to go duckpunting than the day before the memorial event! A sailing-memorial of sorts, if you will. So with Count Gregoire in heart and mind I sped down the interstate to our favorite Stereotypical New England Character, Capn Dory Dan! I had big plans and visions in my head of duckpunting, streaming a black pennant, putting MRS MUMBLES into distress, disorder, and discombobulation for a mourning photo op, and making a libation-ous offering to Poseidon for the safe passage of Count Gregoire across the Oceans of Tyme. (thyme?)

As I pulled into Dory Dans homestead, I realized I forgot the black pennant.  No big deal, we can still put MRS MUMBLES into mourning and make libation-ous offerings. Dory Dan was deep in his duckpunt, fixing the broken mast step and thwart from our last punting day the autumn prior.  The air was thick with the smell of linseed oil and turps and freshly sawn pine.

Its always 1882 at Dory Dans
Soon, we were down at the ramp and we found ourself looking at a very low river, with a very swift upcoming tide, and a stiff southerly breeze, also piping up the river.  Dan decided to row (smart) I decided to sail (cheap gratification) and after two crossings of the river I thought I had made good on the wind, but due to the current found myself right back at the boat ramp. SOoooo, I struck the rig and popped out the oars, and rowed after Dan, who now had made significant passage south downriver.

I soon passed Dan, because his plank-on-frame duckpunt had been in his hot dry shed for the past three weeks. For you non-nautical types, that means his planks were dry, and not swollen shut and so every joint was like a faucet allowing water to enter the hull. Dan was bailing his duckpunt and flipping her on her side to empty the small ocean inside. I found this quaint, then quickly realized this was going to be the theme of the day.

Dory Dan rowing into a little creek I pulled into
YAR there be water in them bilges!
Dan emptying his duckpunt. Notice the dory-built construction style of his duckpunt.
The planks overlap the stem too!
Dan was quite humored by all the bailing he had to do, but was looking for less exposed areas to row, as a boat with several pounds of water in it equals no fun. We scoped out the creek and decided to cut a large corner off our route by taking the creek and then wed row around the next point for lunch. There was a little less current and much less wind down low below the marshbanks.

Shortcut across the marsh
We soon arrived at our lunch spot and declared it good.  However, the tide was absolutely roaring up, and the sandbar was quickly underwater, the wind was whipping, and we were continuously retreating up the banks.  I realized I was not going to be able to put MRS MUMBLES into mourning with her spars all ahoo unless I wanted to court some sort of damage or real-deal discombobulation, so instead I hastily poured a libation to Poseidon, while desperately holding on to my punt. Soon after serving the libations, we had a moment of silence, which lasted about as short of a moment as you can think, and we beat a hasty retreat up the bank.  Dory Dan left his duckpunt solidly in the water so it would "take-up a bit during lunch" because hes an eternal optimist and Im a willing friend who will listen to such daydreams.

After lunch, Dory Dan did some more bailing.

OH Poseidon, watch after Count Gregoire with your aquatic-y goodness (Hi Neighbor!)

Duckpunt wallowing in the stream

BAILING

MORE BAILING

THE WATER COMING IN BETWEEN THE PLANKS FOR CHRISSAKE I CAN SEE IT BUBBLING IN
(
super close-up picture of this available on request)
WELL. Now came the downwind sailing back to the boat ramp. This is where the pictures kind of come to an end, because it was all-hands-on-deck downwind duckpunt sailing at high speeds. We were hanging on with our teeth, oar clamped in our armpits, two hands to the mainsheets, and hoping for the best.  Nothing like the risk of hypothermia to really up the ante and the heart-rate. Duckpunts are fascinating creatures downwind, an adept sailor can heel the boat to windward and she will bear off the wind, or sheet in and bear up. It can even be hands-free. It works well, until the wind starts gusting to 20kts, and then you are in for a ride! But first:

More bailing.
We sailed back down the creeks we came up, often spinning out of control and hitting the banks. At one point I was gripping the boat for dear life on a full-on Nantucket Sleigh Ride, and turned back to hear a deep, primal hooting coming from Dory Dan. I fumbled the camera out as quick as I could as I watched him come roaring around the corner, bow in the air, water spilling in over his transom. We regrouped upriver to catch our breath and rest our arms.  Our muscles were killing us, duckpunting in strong breezes is full-body exercise.

Dan is just moving in this pic. I wish I had more to show of this. Incredible sailing.

Mud adorns our bows as evidence of multiple excursions from the planned routes into the marshbanks.

AHEM
 As we were getting ready to push off, I dropped my painter.

I dropped my painter, with current and wind pushing MRS MUMBLES upriver and away from me at a great rate of speed.  I was marooned on a Massachusetts marsh that was quickly going to be covered in cold May ocean water. JEEPERS. And it was all my fault.

Dory Dan to the rescue! He jumped high, turned his punt around, and sailed like my life meant it in pursuit of MRS MUMBLES. He grabbed the punt with his oar, and then drifted/rowed the two boats to the marsh banks opposite me and across a large creek.  I, in full sea-boots, took off at a sprint yelling over my shoulder that I would find a crossing of the marsh creek. Now, these creeks are narrow, but deep, well over 6 feet. I could only swim across, which this time of year wasnt in the cards. So run I did, which including jumping over many smaller creeks, and falling in the mud.

Dan stopped bailing, and sailed off to catch MRS MUMBLES...
Red dashes = Me, exercising my heart and lungs, running to meet Dan and boats
Red arrow = Stranded
Green Arrow = Dory Dan with boats
Blue arrow = Point of Dawning Comprehension
After a good run across a muddy marsh in my boots, Dan rowed back over to my stranded location and picked me up. In Dory Dan fashion, he chuckled, "I was yellin to you that the creek goes for a mile youre never going to cross it." (Picture a Huck Finn type of character admonishing some adult, but in New England). Back at the boats, we headed downwind following the creek and worked our way back to the boat ramp. We absolutely flew down the creek, working upriver.  The water was very smooth, and I did the balancing/heeling/sheeting steering technique thing, and it was wild and wooly and wonderful.  A few times the boat snapped in one direction or another and I had to scramble to keep her from capsizing, but we made it to the end of the creek in an explosion of hooting and hollering. Exhilarating! This was really high-class sailing.

My hero, Dan.

Bailing. Again. More bailing.

And were off for home! Coming down the creek

Surf Cruisng!


Dreamscape

Dory Dan inbound to the boat ramp. Yeah!

Just missing MRS MUMBLES

ASHORE! NO HYPO! I deem this day a success! 
Today was a fitting tribute to Count Gregoire de Frontenac. I didnt stream a black pennant. I didnt put MRS MUMBLES into a state of mourning and distress with her rig all ahoo. Honestly, most of the day was pandemonium so we certainly found ourselves in a distressed state by our own bumblings.  Dory Dan certainly contributed to the distress with his sailing-colander that he calls a duckpunt. At least Poseidon got his own, and MRS MUMBLES and I went duckpunting, and Dory Dan and I got to sail together and talk about Count Gregoire and others that have passed before us.

WE HAD FUN, and that honors Count Gregoire more than anything else we could have done.

Stay healthy, Intrepid Readers and thank you for reading.

Fair winds, friend and brother.


Do you find information about Boat Plans And Kits are you looking for? If not, below may help you find more information about the Boat Plans And Kits. Thank you for visiting, have a great day.
Read More..