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Boat Plans Wood | Celtic Challenge Youre heading towards France

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Boat Plans Wood


When I set off to cox most of 90 nautical miles across the Irish sea (my first ever rowing expedition) my idea of a long outing was less than 2 hours, and on a river.

But somewhere along the way, after the fabulous sunrise, the sight of the Welsh coast after a night of rowing out of sight of land, and then the arrival on it made me realise the incredible sense of achievement you could feel, despite being second last in a race (and Im normally a bad loser).



Event: Celtic Challenge
Where: The Irish Sea, between Arklow and Aberystwith
Distance: 90 nautical miles
Time: 15h 58mins
Boat type: Pembrokeshire longboat
Number of crews in the event: 14 or so
Event Website: www.celtic-challenge.org.uk


Why we finished up doing it
A fellow member of Thames Valley Skiff Club was on holiday on the Welsh Coast, and got chatting in a pub one evening to members of Aberaeron Lonbgoat Rowing Club. Who finished up offering him use of one of their Pembrokeshire longboats, along with the services of a support crew, if he entered a team in the next years race. History doesnt recall how many pints later this exceptionally generous offer was made, although it cant have been TOO many, as he remembered, and took them up on it.

How it works
The race starts in Arklow, Ireland, and finished in Aberystwyth, Wales, so the course covers one of the wider bits of the Irish Sea.

Each team comprises 12 competitors, who swap in and out of the fixed-seat, coxed rowing boat, which can be either a Celtic or a Pembrokeshire longboat. The Celtic ones were a bit longer, possibly narrower, and definitely faster.



Each team is supported by the yacht, which carries the remaining 7 members not in the race boat, as well as its own crew. A rib is used to swap competitors between the yacht and the longboat.

Our team decided (largely through necessity – were quite a small club, and not all members were nutters) that theyd take me as a dedicated cox, along with 11 rowers, one of whom was a woman in her 50s, but tough as. She not only rowed as much as most of the guys, and more than some, but also made sandwiches almost continuously whilst not rowing.

We decided wed change the crew every 1.5 hours, and I would cox 3 consecutive shifts, followed by 1 off. And repeat. And repeat again. And then again.


The start.
The race itself
The race started at 4pm and ran overnight. This presented its own challenges, but the thinking is that the sea tends to be calmer at night, and there are also fewer ships about.

So, after a sunny start, the field spread out, and we found ourselves to the back of it. The whole thing was way outside my experience, although other members of the team had done some sailing. However, the crew of our support yacht, Y Marchog, were clearly very experienced, and our navigation simply involved "following" them, ideally to one side and a bit in front, so that we werent in their wash.

Which fine, until our fastest crew combination swapped in, which included a three-times Olympic oarsman, and some other blokes who were lesser mortals, but still good rowers. And we found that we were a fair chunk faster than the support yacht, struggling along a it was with 10 people on board a boat probably made for 4 at the most, laden with kit bags, and towing a rib.


Around 4am. This is probably my
favourte expedition rowing photo ever.
Now even this was bearable the first time it happened, but by the time they came back for their 2nd shift, it was dark, and the process of bringing the rib alongside and transferring people across spun our boat around, and I quite lost my grasp of WHICH of the many little lights, representing other crews and their support boats, spread round the horizon I was meant to be following (quite why I didnt have a compass in my paw, Im not sure, and you would be quite justfied in rolling your eyes in horror at this lack of basic safety, though youll remember that wed thought wed be following the yacht..). Anyway, having decided I recognised a certain grouping of lights, and we set off. About 5 minutes later, the rib came roaring back, to explain that we were heading south towards France... Looking back at this now, Im just so embarrassed.

We were unbelievably lucky with the conditions: somewhere around midnight the sea settled into that oily calmness you only rarely get, with barely a breath of wind. 

Deck the halls with boughs of holly
Somewhere around 1.30am, about 3.5 hours into my second 4.5 hour stint, the lateness of the hour, combined with the fresh air and the fact that I was just sitting there steering, all caught up with me and I nodded off. Probably only for about 10 seconds, but I was quickly woken by the shouts of one of the crew who had spotted that the boat had swung round (it was interesting that the others hadnt actually noticed) because it had to be steered almost every stroke to remain heading in the right direction.

I was just so sleepy. I managed to unwrap a sweet from my pocket, despite wearing large waterproof mittens and needing to do the aforementioned continuous steering, but this only boosted my alertness for a few minutes. So I resorted to singing christmas carols to quietly to myself, on the basis that its quite hard to fall asleep whilst singing, and these were the only songs I could remember enough words to in my addled state.

I made it through to my 2nd 1.5 hour break, and as soon I was on the yacht, crawled onto the huge pile of kitbags in the focsle, and immediately fell asleep, with my nose about 2" from the ceiling. Bliss.

Nearly there
Back in the coxing seat, the Welsh coastline soon appeared as a thin grey line on the horizon, though we still had plenty of miles to go. The final crew to swap in wasnt quite the personnel I was expecting, but those that leapt on board explained that they were the only ones left capable of doing another shift - someone had succumbed to seasickness, another was suffering from the flare-up of an injury. A third was totally exhausted. 

After a while, we realised that this particular combination were all experienced rover rowers, and so we entertained ourselves for 20 minutes by talking ourselves through the landmarks of the so-called Championship Course on the Tideway between Chiswick and Putney. It was so realistic that we could almost smell the burger van at the end, although the aroma as we finally made our way into Aberystwyth harbour was slightly different.


Not sure why we seem to be heading
for a cliff at this point?
By now, it was about 8am, and the other competitors, all from Welsh and Irish clubs, showed us the way to the sailing club bar. lacking their prowess (I am only a little cox after all) I sat down in the corner and fell asleep. A little later someone woke me and we went out onto the deck to eat some bacon sarnies, Which were great, and I went asleep in the sun.

Several of us then elected to get back to Aberaeron on the yacht, motoring gently down the coast, and chatting to the crew. The weather was delightful and I nodded off again.

I then fell asleep yet again in the holiday cottage whilst various friends and other halves cooked supper, and finally in the pub, before eventually being allowed to go to bed - bliss! As with many challenges, its the things you dont expect to be hard that often are, and my abiding memory of the Celtic Challenge was the struggle with sleep deprivation. 

Its a cracker of an event, but to do it you need to be with one of the local clubs, because this is a treacherous piece of water, requiring local, or other serious sailing knowledge and decent equipment. We were lucky, and you shouldnt rely on luck with the sea.



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Boat Plans Bartender | Isla Isabel to Mazatlan

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Boat Plans Bartender


The Honcho departed Isla Isabel in the late afternoon heading in a northerly direction toward Mazatlan on starboard tack. Almost as soon as we cleared the island the wind piped up to about 20 knots so we put a reef in the main and had a nice sail for about 40 miles. Around midnight we were about 3 miles off the beach just north of Teacapan and tacked to port.  This put us on on a course of due west and we got a taste of punching into the short, steep waves common to this area... a fairly bumpy ride. By 0100 the wind had settled down a bit and shifted so we were able to tack once again an sail a course nearly directly toward Mazatlan. Just before the moon rose at about 0330, the wind died completely and we motored the last 35 miles to the city, coming to anchor in the lee of Isla Piedra with about ten feet of water under our keel. The distance traveled from Isabel was about 90 miles. This is a well protected anchorage and we secured the boat and slept for a few hours.

Later that day we went ashore in the dinghy and walked down the beach a mile or so, looking at dozens of deserted beachfront palapa restaurants. We finally found one that looked open and wandered in. I asked why all the palapas were deserted and the waiter said this beach used to be very busy until a few weeks ago, when the cruise ships stopped calling at Mazatlan. There has apparently been enough drug cartel related violence to cause them to suspend calling at this port until they get a better handle on security here. Mexicans say its Americas fault, because if the demand for drugs in the US didnt exist, Mexico wouldnt have a drug war on its hands. Either way, the mahi mahi tacos were excellent, the service good and the Pacificos were frosty. Speaking of frosty, weve been in temperatures that ranged from the 70s to 90s day and night for the last three months. Here the highs are in the mid 70s and low last night was 51. Weve had to bundle up in fleece at night for the first time since leaving Long Beach.

The next day we went out to Isla de los Chivos and hiked to the top of the island. The views of the city and surrounding countryside were beautiful. Chivo is Spanish for kid, or young goat, and we got lots of pictures of the feral goats that live on this craggy little island.

After a couple of days in the peaceful tranquility of the anchorage, we got the anchor up and sailed around the west side of the city and took a berth in Marina Mazatlan, where well stay a couple weeks and explore the city and surrounding area.

The volcanic rocks around Isla Isabel. This one is called Isleo Mona Mayor

Looking east from the top of Isla de los Chivos toward Isla Cardones

A deeply laden purse seiner enters the harbor.

It looks like the goat is in the tree but hes not.

A chivo surveys the rocky path below.
This little guy seemed happy to pose for the camera.
Itty bitty chivo hooves



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Boat Plans Canada | Small Reach Regatta 2014! Return of The Hog!

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Boat Plans Canada


OOOOooooHHH SNAP! Its that time again!

Its the Small Reach Regatta 2014!


TA Ta TAAAA! (trumpets)


Yes, I took this picture swimming.

ENTER Stage Left: CIRCE, as she enchants Odysseus sailors!

"She opened her gleaming doors at once and stepped forth, 
inviting them all in, and in they went, all innocence... 
She ushered them in to sit on high-backed chairs, 
then she mixed them a potion--cheese, barley 
and pale honey mulled in Pramnian wine--
but into the brew she stirred her wicked drugs 
to wipe from their memories any thought of home.
(The Odyssey ch. 10, Fagles)

Of course, the worldly Intrepid Reader of GISAmateur Style knows that soon after the sailors were turned into little piggies and run into pigsties,

"...sobbing, squealing as Circe flung them corns, cornel nuts and mast, 
common fodder for hogs that root and roll in mud.
(The Odyssey ch. 10, Fagles)

This year the SRR was again held at the Hog Island Audubon Camp where we checked our humanity at the door and wrestled, rowed, and sailed our boats up and down Muscungus Bay!  Snort-snort fellow piggy sailors, its sailing time!

Scout and I arrived at Muscungus Bay a few days early, and met up with GreenMountain John who has just finished an absolutely stunning François Vivier Ilur! Heartstopping is an adequate word to use on WAXWING. She is the FIRST and so far THE ONLY Lug-Yawl Ilur on the PLANET. You saw it here first, folks. And lots of other places too.

GreenMountain John rowing in, like a BOSS

OOOOOOHHHH MY GAAHHHD 

The only Lug Yawl Ilur... IN THE WORLD
Just two boats, cruising in Maine.
On Wednesday other boats started showing up.  The Small Reach crowd is pretty core.  A few trailers came in with technical issues, from blown tires to the axle falling off one trailer, but they still made it. Broken trailers are not an issue for a Small Reacher, it is imperative that the Regatta is reached! All solutions are acceptable, including lashing the axle back on.  Who needs U-bolts?

Dont despair, Lashing Man is here!
So Ill be honest here, this year I have some fewer pictures than usual since I was having some camera battery issues.  Also, this year the Regatta was a little more calm and I just enjoyed the splendid company, good food, and wonderful water-time with friends I see once a year.  Lots of repeat boats this year, a few new ones, and we did enjoy a visit from a Tancook Whaler.

The first day was a long row (about 4 miles or so) from Hog Island to the southern tip of Friendship Long Island to a little cove that is protected by the Maine Coast Heritage Trust on Neds Point.

Cove at Neds Point.  Very pretty.

NO SRR is complete without the legendary WOLFISH, Crazy Charlies Washington County Peapod


Super Salty Mike with his well traveled and storied Melonseed, PEPITA
I LOVE this boat, and Mike is just the greatest saltiest sailor evAR!!!1!!
(Intrepid Readers remember PEPITA from this picture in 2013)

El Jefe Professor Denis and his Carpenter.  More on this later!

Funky-Funk Andrew and PHOEBE!
Andrew is my homie. (homey? homee?)

Capn Paulie and Goat Island Skiff KATHLEEN MARIE
After a year in exile, they return triumphant to the Small Reach Regatta

Sausage Brian returns with KEEL BASA, his Lillistone Flint.
Sausage Brian is eating sausage in this picture.  Circe got him realz good.
KEEL BASA is the first lug-rig Flint IN THE WORLD!
After lunch, we had some breeze and sailed back to Hog Island.  As I was walking out to SCOUT who was bobbing merrily on her anchor I got distracted talking to our Fearless Leader Tom and slipped on a rock.  No big deal.  I got wet, but saved the bag, and climbed into Scout and got her ready to go for some sailing! As I was about to retrieve the hook, I looked down for something and noticed that there was red water in my aft cockpit and my legs were a little worse for the wear...

 

So that was fun.  These guys wouldnt stop bleeding either.  Blood on my towel, blood in the aft cockpit, blood in the bilge, my new shiny floorboards, everywhere! I just mopped off and went sailing. Sometime later, one of the many medical professionals at the event gave me some cream to put on them, but I had already given them a good scrub in salt water.  Remember: I Viking! (I took the antibiotic cream anyway, barnacles can be full of nasty).

Enough pillaging, back to the sailing!

Sweetest boat, Hylan Beach Pea, steered by oar.  Really wonderful boat in so many respects.
New addition to the SRR.

Matinicus Peapod.  She leaves nary a ripple in the water, as it closes up right behind her.

Tancook Whaler VERNON LINGUINE bearing down on us!

VERNON LINGUINE passes us in her slippery noodlely way
Denis and his Carpenter under sail AND oar because lets be honest, its a lifeboat.

OOoooOOOoo 18 Joel White Shearwater OCARINA.
I love this boat for its simplicity, it just speaks.

Piratey Ed in his Ness Yawl ghosting alone. Ed lives in NH, which means we should go sailing!

Capn Jon FINALLY makes an appearance in TWO-HEARTED (Phoenix III)
Hes sailing with his FIL, Hank, who was kidnapped by Capn Jon
from his grandfatherly duties to go sailing. Atrocious crime!

PHEW there are a lot of grey skies going on in the above pictures.  I need some SUN and BLUE MAINE SKY, Hmmmmm Hmmmm! On the second day we sailed back down to Harbor Island which has a beautiful beach and harbor and is a great place for lunch! No camping, but the beach is available for day use, and there are trails around the island with cliffs on the east side with some beautifully clear water which probably has great snorkeling.  The bottom of the harbor seems like it is good holding ground for those that sleep aboard.

Scout is at anchor at a distance.  Goat Island Skiff BLEAT is foreground, right side. PEPITA is on the left.
The pulling boats always get to the beach first, notice the three in the foreground.

Susan with her Yawl-Dory ELYSSA

YES I love this ghetto style! There is nothing more sacred than utilitarianism. It works.

So heres another Dennis in WHISPER a modified Tom River Skiff.
Unfortunately, I did not get a good long look at this boat, and didnt get to sail it either.
I regret this, because it looks like a lot of fun, and it has a lot of sail.
More downhaul might be a good idea on this rig, but Dennis knows his stuff.
Look at that sky!

Capn Jon, my Lovely Wife, and myself stopped by at Broad Cove Marine and grabbed
some tasty lobster rolls ($10!).  This is now one of my favorite lobster stops.
We left the regatta and renegaded this much needed lunch stop!
Note Scout down on the dock.

On the last day, we did some very interesting sailing.  It was a long summer sail-day, with many circumnavigations of islands, and a nice beach lunch stop.  This was the end of a wonderful week on the water.  I spent three days sleeping in the boat, three sleeping ashore in a tent in a wild patch of woods with my Lovely Wife, and I left feeling refreshed, rejuvenated, and ready to rock for some more sailing!  Sailing! I want mooooorre!

Fleet working up between Oars Island and the mainland.

DON"T MESS WITH THE INSTIGATOOOORRR!

This is the kind of shot that really symbolizes the SRR for me.
Lots of beautiful small boats, great scenery, and fun times.
What more could I ask for during my vacation?

Capn Nathan ghosting along in his lovely Kingston Lobster boat.
He can really sail this thing, he would ghost in and out of tight harbors with current, no problems.

So, heres a Sea Pearl 21 and a Herreshoff Carpenter.  Many people will often name drop Herreshoff
and Sea Pearl 21 in the same sentence.  Well, Ron Johnson is the designer of the Sea Pearl 21,
and he was "inspired" by the Carpenter, but the Carpenter was designed as a lifeboat. The Sea Pearl is a machine.
The Carpenter rows OK,  needs wind to move under sail, and it very stable, but its not the Sea Pearl.
They may share relatively same hull shapes (flat bottoms, etc) but performance wise its another story.
They are different boats, and to mention Herreshoff and not Ron Johnson is disingenuous. 

Another comparative picture for those Sea Pearlers that are interested.
The Carpenter is a lovely boat, but its quite specific.

Capn Jon FIL Hank flying wing-and-wing in SCOUT!

After all that sailing, it was high time for the legendary last night lobster-fest.  This is where we get together in a communal fashion and eat, drink, and be merry together before parting the next day.  Lobster, chowder, and puffin are usually on the docket, all delicious foodstuffs after a great week of sailing.  Funky-Funk Andrew is all about pairing wine with puffins, for instance.  There is music and song, stories and laughter, biting mosquitoes and starlight.  We bond over our plates, our love of sailing, and our shared communal spirit of sailing small boats.  Small Reach Regatta is the high point of my sailing season, and it comes slow, passes quickly, and leaves me stoked until the ice clogs the rivers and bays.  

Capn Jon piles his plate high with food, and carries his lobster below, opening up valuable plate space!
Take note, rookies!


"I am going to eat your babies."
(Real quote from Funky-Funk Andrew while eating the lobster roe)
The crowd gathers around the dessert and to hear GreenMountain John play some pipes!

PUFFINS TO EAT

"This wine pairs wonderfully with puffins!"
Funky-Funk Andrew sends it home again!




Until next year, SMALL REACH REGATTA!





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