Sailing with a Hero - 11:00 AM, Jun. 28, 2005

I had met the Mackies before the start of the season (see Real Sailing Heroes) and we'd kept in touch, so I was delighted when Ian and his 10 year old son Iain came aboard Silkie last Friday evening for a sail. It was to be Iain's first sail on a yacht so a modest passage plan was in order and a forecast suggesting no more than F4 for the weekend was perfect. An eleventh-hour family situation requiring that the crew be back ashore by Sunday lunchtime was the final factor in the equation and we settled for an overnight in Puilldobhrain, again. I'm starting to understand why it's such a popular spot!

From my point of view, the main purpose of the weekend was to hear some of Ian's yarns and pick up a few Hurley sailing tips. Ian's aim, I'm sure, was to get young Iain hooked on sailing and so recruit another ally on the home front to his campaign for a new 22. By all criteria, the weekend was to be a resounding success.

With winds forecast N backing NW F3/4 we set off in a light southerly in brilliant sunshine at about 1000 on Saturday morning. In a virtual replay of conditions on my last trip with Paul the wind picked up after we tacked to go southwest down the Firth of Lorne before dying again north of Bach Island. Soup and rolls were followed by the re-appearance of the wind and we enjoyed a close reach across the last few miles to Puilldobhrain. Although young Iain had looked slightly concerned at the angle of heel when we were on the wind (Silkie's delight is to sail with her gunwhale kissing the water in anything from F3 up) he was plainly reassured by his Dad's pleasure in the sailing. In fact, when asked later how he had enjoyed his first sail he declared it "the best day of my life!" It must be in his blood.

We were the third boat in to Puilldobhrain though numbers went up to seventeen or eighteen later and as we "soaked the hook" with a couple of beers a dinghy rowed over from one of the later arrivals. Pete is Vice-commodore of St. Mary's Loch Sailing Club (I'm still a member - honest!) and had our Commodore, Stewart, aboard his Moody Sea Breeze. I noticed a boat enter, turn round and leave and it turned out (he txt me later) that this was Cap'n Dave (single-handed on Kiri) who had taught my family to be Competent Crew some years earlier.

The Mackies and I went over the hill for dinner in the T'n'T. I heard many of Ian's yarns over the course of the weekend about their (he and his wife) Atlantic crossing in Raggles, and about their five years as charter skippers in the Caribbean. All were entertaining, most were educational and some, like the one which might have been subtitled "How to Cope with F10 in a Hurley 22", I sincerely hope will be perfectly useless!

The Hurley gets a terrific reputation for seaworthiness but such oft-repeated views leave me with a lingering unease. Reading magazine reviews of the 22 down the decades which repeat the same well-worn phrases while propounding the same factual errors makes me wonder how many of the reviewers actually sailed a Hurley, never mind in the range of conditions necessary to form a real opinion of her abilities. While my own limited experience has always been reassuring (I'm the worrying type) and has tended to confirm the reputation, listening to Ian, who definitely has the T-shirt as well as an unshakeable faith in this little ship, carries a lot more weight than a stack of magazines. The fact that he has skippered a wide variety of yachts professionally, is a naval architect/surveyor to trade and still wants another Hurley is enough to convince me.

Sunday dawned fair but windless and we motored up Kerrera Sound. Ian amused himself by whipping the ragged ends of every warp in the cockpit lockers (thanks Ian) while young Iain kept himself entertained at the pulpit by pointing out every jelly fish we passed. The tillerpilot steered and I kept watch and I can now identify the Moon jelly and  Lion's Mane jelly (thanks Iain).

As we emerged from Oban Bay we found ourselves overhauling a larger yacht (OK, so she only had her genoa out) on a very broad reach, F2ish. Our main was just blanketing a wee bit of our genoa but because the wind was so light it was enough to prevent it drawing properly. Ian's competitive spirit was clearly roused and I could say nothing that would stop him taking the long boathook on to the coachroof and poling the genoa out to leeward. That, and putting up the sprayhood (!) was easily worth a quarter of a knot. As we passed the other boat I couldn't resist hailing her skipper and telling him that he'd made my day since we rarely find ourselves the overtaking vessel! He laughed (in a kindly sort of way) and threatened to raise his main. The wind drew aft. We goosewinged the sails and hurtled towards the horizon at well over 4 knots! It's the little things that make the difference.

After I'd said goodbye to Ian and his son at Dunstaffnage I bumped into Jack and Yvonne Seed who'd turned me into a  Day Skipper aboard their Westerly Sea Dawn and who were again on their regular Scottish summer circuit.

Not many miles but a cracking weekend and one I hope we'll repeat.

Off to the Western Approaches next - no, really!

Miles this trip 25

Miles this season 285 (s/h 93)

It's a Small World - is it no' jist?

As well as bumping into Pete & Stewart, Cap'n Dave (nearly) and Jack & Yvonne, it turns out that Ian knows our friends Rob & Lynda, who are slowly circumnavigating in their Samson Maverick of Clyde, currently at anchor in Grenada. Spooky or what?