Instruction by an experienced RYA First Aid instructor who is also a yachtswoman and registered and practicing nurse.

To be held at Bernays Hall in Stanmore.

Only 11 places remain.

Please contact Phil Sugarman (training@hssc.org.uk or 07803 176 977) to book a place.

The next morning fog was all around. We couldn’t even see the Spinnaker tower over in Portsmouth – less than a mile away.  The morning was spent on berthing and manoeuvring under power in the marina. After lunch the fog seemed to have lifted just a little. I radioed the Queen’s Harbour Master, to say that we were about to leave the harbour and asking if there were any traffic of note.  “Yes, he replied – the Normandy Ferry is just coming down the fairway to exit the harbour”.  And sure enough a minute later it appeared out of the nothingness, huge and forbidding – we let her pass.  That evening we berthed in Cowes and had a trip to the pub.  The forecast for the 28th was for more fog. 
We left Cowes with eyes and ears peeled.  The radio was tuned in to Southampton Vessel Traffic Service and I kept a close eye on the radar and chart plotter with its recently added Automatic Identification System (AIS) overlay.   We crossed the harbour entrance and headed off toward Lepe Spit buoy.  Half way across, a rumble became a roar and a small fishing boat appeared alongside and slowed down.  The lone helmsman yelled across “Err mate, which way to Beaulieu?” It seemed even the locals were having difficulty. We obliged him and then Wild Spirit made her way west-south-west to the shallows on the mainland side of the western Solent.  No ferries cross this area and, in five metres of water, we would be safe from most commercial cargo traffic.  There it was, in thick fog, that we chucked over a fender tied to a length of mooring warp and I demonstrated sailing back to a “Man Overboard” (MOB).  The Day Skipper candidates all followed suit.  The concentration was intense.  Forty or fifty quid of fender and warp never left the gaze and extended index finger of our designated competent crew.  The helms never allowed the yacht to stray more than three or four boat lengths from the MOB and each of them achieved the pick-up on their first attempt!
With the MOB retrieval exercise in the bag I felt happier with our progress.  That afternoon we worked on anchoring and then headed for Lymington.  The Lymington–Yarmouth (Yarmouth is on the Isle of Wight just three nautical miles due south) ferry operates hourly and, in good visibility at night, they are a useful guide into Lymington harbour.  Even wider vessels have recently been introduced and seeing them pass in the narrow, shallow channel into Lymington, it looks like they are not going to manage without scraping each other.  In poor visibility, they are menacing, invisible hulks of coarse unforgiving steel!
Radar can give the approximate position of a vessel but determining its course and speed is not easy.  AIS relies on VHF transmissions by each vessel detailing their ID, position, course and speed.  With a VHF receiver passing the incoming data to a chart plotter, knowing where other vessels are and where they are going, is much easier.  And, if your sailing yacht has an AIS transmitter, the other vessels will know where you are and what you are up to as well.
So for the first time in anger, I placed my faith in AIS.  Eyes now glued to the chart plotter, I could tell that one Ferry had just left the quay at Lymington and another was on its way from Yarmouth. 

The fog had thickened and our lookouts could see only a few boat lengths off.  Keeping just enough way to maintain steerage and using our foghorn, we waited to the east of the river entrance, on the starboard edge of the channel, for the outgoing ferry to pass.
At first it slowed down.  Maybe it took a minute or two to realise that we were holding station.  But then it sped up again.

A few minutes later and, if the AIS were accurate, it ought to pass us safely on our port side.  The hum of its engines intensified, as did the tension within some of my crew.  It seemed an age before lights loomed up through the fog.  The ferry glided past, as anticipated, and then it was gone.  With the incoming ferry audible, invisible and maybe half a mile behind, we headed in.  Knowing her speed from the AIS, we motored Wild Spirit to maintain her distance ahead and we arrived safely at our berth in the Yacht Haven.
The next day the fog had lifted and the rest of the course went without a hitch.  And what did I learn? AIS, within its limitations, can be of huge assistance on entering or leaving a port in poor visibility.  The fog focussed the crew and they rightly felt a great sense of achievement.  And, however many RYA courses I teach, there are always new challenges to overcome and satisfaction to be gained.

Phil Sugarman
RYA Cruising Instructor

This is a very brief introduction to radar without going into the niceties of plotting on graph paper or a chart what an actual set of conditions would look like on radar.

Click here to access this tutorial.

Tom Cunliffe ran an electronic navigation seminar at the Cruising Association on 11 December.  The topics covered were computers and electronic charts (Chris Pontet from Euronav), radar (Alan Watson, independent practitioner) and chart plotters (Nick Meadow from Garmin).

Tom says electronics are aids to the Mk I eyeball.  Electronic charts are either Raster or Vector.  Which is best depends on the coverage of the area you wish to sail in, and if both are available, the cost.  Beware that waypoints put on one chart might move slightly when shifting to a bigger scale.

Some electronic charts include information kept in an almanac, but when opened “they invariably cover the critical point of the chart you need”.

Computers may be built-in or laptop.  Built-ins are expensive, and still need a keyboard and mouse or ball.  Balls may be better than mice.  Laptops can be used at home for route planning and then taken on board and run from a power source / inverter.  Chris recommended removing the batteries when running on board.  Instead of connecting to the ship’s GPS, GPS “dongles” can be bought for about £35, work on NMEA protocol, and connect via USB.  Buy the short NMEA to USB converter cable from a shop where you can exchange it because some don’t work with some computers – apparently this is a quirk of the dongle / computer combination that you won’t know till you’ve tried.  Computers can also display instruments, but this depends on screen size and cable spaghetti doing the connections.

Radar now comes in “digital” that increases the sensitivity, and by using colours, can distinguish targets hidden by heavy rain.  Get the biggest transmitter possible because bigger reduces the beam width and so separates targets at greater distance – multiple targets aren’t covered by the beam at the same time.  Locate the aerial about 1/3 to ½ up the mast and in front of it, not on the spreaders that would give a large shadow when the radar beam was pointing at the mast each time the aerial rotated.  “Broadband” radar transmits and receives continuously (rather than pulsed), but is not good at ranges greater than about 5 miles.  Also, they don’t fire up RACONS.  There seems to be some discussion on which display is best – course up, head up and north up.  Alan suggested course up because it irons out small movements in the boat’s heading and when you go on deck the orientation of what you see on screen is what you see on deck.  Swing the boat to get the fluxgate compass sorted, and get the heading line sorted by aiming at an object about 1 mile ahead to adjust it.  AIS (Automatic Identification System) is good, but it is not a substitute for radar – it won’t show you a harbour entrance in the fog.  When receiving AIS target info, check that the transmitting ship is actually doing what its AIS says it is.

Nick took us through chart plotters – bigger is better – “touch screen” versions maximise the screen size compared to the aperture the instrument is fitted into.  Some models, depending on manufacturer, are able to split the screen vertically and / or horizontally for multiple charts, for example, one may show detail and another a larger area.  Ensure that the screen can be seen in the sun and at night at the correct angle, for example, from the helmsman’s position.

Other issues covered include getting weather data and electrolysis.  Chris suggested go to Euronav’s website and check the link to “weather” [http://www.euronav.co.uk/ ,  http://www.euronav.co.uk/Weather/gribfiles.htm].  Electrolysis is apparently caused by being connected to shore power where earth potential is not quite zero.  A way round it is to insert “galvanic isolators” between shore power earth and the boat’s earth, alternatively, use a 1:1 transformer.  [A Google search afterwards revealed http://www.galvanicisolator.co.uk/ and the link http://www.safeshoremarine.com/assetts/galvanic%20isolators%20the%20facts%204%20individual%20pages.pdf ]

The day of the first Michael Doctors lecture was drawing close and the participation numbers were looking really good.

It was clear that the renowned mariner Cunliffe was proving exactly the exciting attraction that the club had hoped for. Current and past members alike together with friends and family of the late Michael Doctors were due to meet for this auspicious occasion… and then…down came the SNOW********. Tons and tons of the white fluffy stuff! Very pretty; but then the reality began to slowly dawn upon me. “This is not good; this definitely doesn’t bode well for keeping up attendances”, and sure enough a few worrying calls and e-mails began to arrive.

However, all was not lost. Being good mariners, we sought solace from the weather reports. We checked them all, hour by hour and found a definite uniformity amongst the forecasts for the following day, that of the lecture. It looked as if the snow would stop, the temperature would rise a little and remain so for at least 24 hours providing just enough of a window to allow Transport for London to sort their act out, and for the main roads to be cleared. Our famous speaker concurred having made his own investigations that there would indeed be a weather window, and was very much still of a mind to go ahead. With renewed vigour we tried to reassure as many people as possible that it would really be all right on the night, and then we just prayed.

In due course the hour of judgement arrived and I had asked myself the same question over and over again. “Would anyone really come?” The answer was soon apparent “Yes”! Many, many people made it and the hall began to fill. Soon a hubbub of animated chatter started to rise and fall and still more of our expected attendees arrived. Guests tucked into the bagels and sandwiches, reinforcing our belief that we sail on our stomachs whilst Mr Tom Cunliffe was safely installed before a stubborn laptop and projector, which soon became the biggest concern. Then, magically, a new projector arrived and we were off.

With a spirited start, Tom provided us with 90 minutes of entertainment, witty repartee, anecdotes and real mariner’s experiences as he explained how we used to find our way at sea, how he has done it and how satellites and electronics have influenced how we do it now. The audience was completely absorbed in his stories of navigational nightmares of the Atlantic kind, when, in the 1960s, having lost chronometer, and with no more than a chart and sextant he managed to navigate from Brazil to Barbados, and made it by hitting the required latitude and turning left! Well, he made it sound just that simple.

With precisely the right blend of humour, information and technical whatsnames, and an informality rarely experienced with such a star speaker, the evening finished on a real high.

Annie Doctors gave a short but moving tribute to Michael and a perfect vote of thanks to Tom. With ample time for coffee, cakes and a good chinwag with our mates, the HSSC year kicked off to a brilliant start despite the best intentions of the elements.  Now where have I heard that one before!

I offer my thanks to all those who made such an effort to be there and make the event such a success with a particular mention for Arnold Bennett who suggested Tom Cunliffe as our speaker.

Any ideas and suggestions for future key speakers will be most welcome.

Sandy Riegler
Commodore

Withdrawal symptoms were clearly getting to members of the High Seas as more than 15 eager beavers got together at Bernays Hall, Stanmore for a workshop session on the much sought-after art of correctly manoeuvring your canvas in order to progress in a forwardly direction with appropriate momentum according to the prevailing airflow over the aerofoils! Or to put it more simply; setting your sails correctly for the prevailing wind conditions etc!

Sandy came prepared with tea, coffee, cakes and biccies, while Phil came prepared with pieces of wood, pieces of canvas and pieces of string which, when all assembled together, created a dinky little sailing rig that could be “propelled” by warm air flow from electric fan! Perfect!

Amusement and intrigue followed by focus and concentration saw us all learning consciously, (and subconsciously) about how winds change in force with altitude, how this gradient acts upon the sail, and therefore why a sail is curved more at the top! We learnt about correcting for weather helm, lee helm and how to balance a boat, and we learnt how to combine some kind of logic, based on fundamental physics, with our experiential instincts when it comes to trimming sails.)
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Weather_helm

All in all, this was a very well designed and delivered workshop, with great ingenuity, and greatly enhanced by a shared input from all participants.

This formula works, and I believe the club should utilise the resources our more experienced members have to offer, to cover more topics throughout the year.
If YOU, (yes you reading this!) feel you would like to share your particular nautical pet subject and skill with other interested members, please do let me know NOW! We could then fit one or two more workshops in before we all set off for the ocean waves, or something like them anyway!

Many thanks to Phil for organising and presenting the workshop, and to all participants for attending!

Sandy Riegler

Imagine the scene; you are sailing mid-week down the Solent beyond the Needles and on towards Poole. There is very little other shipping around. You are the novice sailor placed on the helm by the only other person on board, your experienced skipper, who has instructed you on how to keep a steady course while he goes below. Suddenly you hear a thud followed by silence.

What is the first thing you do?

Frank had given us all a card on which to write down the answer, so he got 13 replies, some the same, some different – use the radio, start the engine, heave to, drop the sails, engage the autohelm, use a flare or smoke canister, check the patient? OK, but which of these, and in which order, and why?

By the tea interval, we were like the little old lady who lived in a shoe – we knew what to do, in which order, and more importantly, why. The most important question you need to ask, and sort out an answer for, is “is the boat safe?” The question was not “How is the patient” because if you are about to sink that becomes relatively irrelevant. Your primary aim is not to increase the number of casualties.

By the end of the evening, we had been told of the virtues of hand-held VHF radios, what to look for in their design when choosing one, ensure your crew knows how to start the engine, how to engage autohelm, how to operate flares (beware, they take a second or two to actually ignite and then dribble hot goo down their sides), how to operate a radio, how to take sails down (with a knife if necessary) – in short – keep the boat afloat long enough for emergency assistance to get to the scene.

Frank also demonstrated how rapidly and to what size a manual life jacket inflates, how to care for them, and what to look for when choosing one, and, don’t inflate them in the cabin because you might not be able to get through the companionway if you have.

Lastly, Frank advised that in our spare moments waiting for the kettle to boil, for example, we should acquaint ourselves with the workings of such gadgets (essentials?) as radar, GPS, how to plot your position?

A very well-worthwhile evening – scary to the point of “what advice / instruction have I not told my crew”.

Many thanks to Frank for enlightening us.

Robert Falk

From the Commodore:-
I should like to add my thanks and congratulations and moreover to advise members that we shall run this training session again next year to give all members, experienced and novice alike the opportunity to consider how things might turn out if you were in the situation of being Suddenly Alone with an unconscious skipper! Please let us know if you are interested!!!!! Contact Robert.

Seriously though, Phil took us through how to park your gin palace without crunching either it, the adjacent gin palace, or the jetty that you are trying to get onto, how to get out of your parking space, how to go sideways using propeller walk, and how to tell which way it walks (look over the side and watch the wake).  What else? How to tie up, where to place the fenders, and how to use the lines between the boat and the jetty to ensure you come in and out with minimum effort and without crunching anything, which to let go and in which order.  The analogy is trying to teach a group of 12 of us sat round the table how to park a car by describing which way to turn the steering when many of us have never sat behind the wheel.

How did he do that?  

Phil made a model boat with holes drilled through it.  It also had cleats for demonstrating how to tie up.  Just as with the boat, the dock also had cleats.  What were the holes for?  Phil placed a pencil through the holes to demonstrate how the centre of rotation changes between going ahead and going astern.

Having docked and undocked successfully, Phil then took us through some rope tricks with full size rope and cleats, for example, always ensure the shorter end of a rope on a cleat is at the top so there is less rope to pull through, and demonstrating “sweating” – how to lift a weight with little effort – very useful for hoisting a main.

These mini training sessions are not hard going if you have Phil giving them – bite-size learning at its best.  Thanks, Phil.

If there are any topics you would like us to cover, tell us, so we organise relevant bite-size training sessions for you.

Robert
22.3.2007

As it would be for each of us it was a description of a very personal experience of a journey that made the talk so interesting. The very description of deciding which tack to take and physical feeling of the corkscrew effect over several thousand miles made for great empathy or was it sympathy? The fuzziness of the quickly scanned pictures gave immediacy to the occasion as though Dave had just stepped off the boat still swaying slightly while he got his land legs.

The pictures of the dolphins made us all long to experience the freedom of the open ocean. However Dave gave the most honest talk of the tedium of the watches over a period of time and the discomfort of the chosen sailing line. How scary it can be when you are alone on a watch in the middle of a squall with the boat well healed over. Also the realization that you are all alone and faraway from help when you spend hours in the middle of the night trying to sort out tangled sails. Moreover, as time progresses, how one copes or more to the point ignores equipment failure knowing the end of the journey is the objective. It made one think how sailors in the past made the journey with the most basic of equipment, simply the sails and the stars to sail by. The sense of achievement to have arrived at journey’s end must have been the most invigorating of experiences.

It was a wonderful talk to be given on a storm lashed day and it was great to see so many members of HSSC make the effort to come together and meet and share David’s once (or so he tells us) in a lifetime experience.

A.R.
 

Read Yamma’s log of the ARC and more