I suppose it was inevitable that I would end up all at sea. After all, when your best pals acquire a boat (a Freedom 21 called Fidelio, to be precise) it's only a matter of time before you discover a need to join them on board, and today was that time. It was unfortunate that the mist never really cleared, though if you click on this pic and look at the rest of the set on Flickr you'll see the wonderful pale pink sunset over the Holy Loch, but I'd made up my mind that I needed some boat photos for possible use as background to a poem which I intend putting on a postcard.
Actually taking photos on a sailing boat isn't easy. For a start, there are a great many ropes (sheets?) and bits of metal which are a vital component of the sailing mechanism, and then there are the welly-clad feet of The Boss, aka Rob, which threaten to land on your head should you move too far from your allotted space. It is difficult to get far enough away from anything to take its picture, so you end up with half mast photos. There is also the small matter of a great deal of water which must not be allowed to come into contact with the camera - you get my drift. But enough of these half-baked puns.
For drift we did not. We were under sail the whole way until the moment of re-entering the marina at Holy Loch; slowly into the wind towards Gourock and then careering gloriously back with the spinnaker out and the boat keeling over and making great gurgling noises. All very exhilarating.
But I may live to regret having my photo taken wearing edublogger's Waverley hat.
Looks like you had a fun day (certainly better than my day marking Higher Close Reading papers)... however, I feel I should warn you that you are too early for next year's Talk Like A Pirate Day!
ReplyDeleteGreat picture - very moody
ReplyDeleteNeil - I'll practise. Honest. But I may not wear the hat ....
ReplyDeleteMick - thank you!
As usual, Chris, you have done more than one would think possible with words or pictures to capture the essence of a thing. In this case, it is the essence of sailing on a windy day, that feeling of harnessing oneself to an unforgiving power which suffers the guiding hand of humanity because it deigns not to notice it.
ReplyDeleteDecades ago, I sailed as often as possible, but in much smaller boats and in warmer waters which were generally calmer, save for the occasional summer squall. Thanks for bringing back such sweet memories, spiced as they are with recollections of moments of consternation and fear.
Walter, I think it's the very life of the wind that makes sailing - for me - more scary than climbing a rock face. At least the rock stays still ...
ReplyDelete