A brief history of everything ...on the water. Part II

After all my child hood efforts were burned out on the painful memory of my fathers death and all that, I kept a wide berth from the sailing scene. It keeps it's own distance if you don't really try to get into the cliques.

I had little interest apart from scouts and that was more being sociable. Eric Dicskon ( now Laurant) had an interest in a moth ( like a ply Europe) and some wee at but I just didn't see the point. I did think about Tighnabruaich sailing school, which was cheap as chips back then, but even that was beyond our family budget.

Once in a while I would wonder about racing on tuesdays in the garelochs, pipers and dragons around the loch. In my day the royal northern and clyde was off limits. My dad it seemed had either been snubbed or had in turned snubbed them and his cousin Hamish Lawrence. John did work as boat man for a while but at an arms legnth from trojan maid or Kieta.

My only sailing as a young adult was with David Eglington on a delivery to Crinan, or the basin actually just before there. I was a student maybe in first or second year and I think he was a littel unimpressed on the whole as I never got asked back. Maybe it was my coming completely empty handed on board. I did get a glass of wine and I think john brought it, meeting us a ardrishaig or something. We sailed overnight from rhu and I got to set the big genoa and steer alone, with a following sea on the dead run. The boat did well. I luffed too much. Thinking back I remember the grey firth before us and the high swell. I must have sailed more than just wayfarers in the intermediate times but I really don't remember. I think I just had a sense for it all, absorbed feeling from all those tours in the sea scouts.

My deciding to give dave leslie a lift one night changed my life, maybe long term for the worse, but certainly towards a successful sailing career. Dave is a fanatic and a scatter brain but generally a good fun guy to have on a boat, even if his fukups are funnier than his patter. He was working at the northern as boat man, having just dropped out of silvers within a few months or even weeks of passing out from his apprenticeship as a boat builder. He has never explained to me why exactly, but he did spend years being depressed and wanting to escape whatever normality he could.

I went over for a Cove race, probably had done the social before, but went out on a Contessa 33, think it might have been that john white guy. Had the tee shirt and did some old fashioned wicnching in 1991 with my wee flash car on the dock.

Anyhows he got me on board "deviance II" the predecessor being a Toledo with a mouse giving the vees painted on the keel. Now this was actually not a cosey little tour under the wing of my good old scout mate. This was a baptism of fire. In at the very deep end on a sports yacht being run by drunken cowboys.

To begin with I got winches but my lack of prowess soon lead me to being ballast. However I did get a very good overnight experience on a tight reach from gourock all the way to Hamilton Rock light. It was actually the most spectacular overnight and remains probably so becuase the wind held until 2am. We were up over ten knots and I could see the whole snotty fleets lights coming in on starboard to round the same mark! We had other class ones in sight. Later there was a moon rise and it looked like Saturn without the rings up there in the southern skies above the Heads of Ayr. Dave navigated a 15 minute decreasing tack up the new beat to the next mark off Irvine. I crashed out and awoke just at the bloody mark we should have been at 6 hours before. GPS was bought later that season! Dave was never allowed to navigate again.

In these days the FC Europe was a CHS class 1 boat with the red and white pennant proudly flickering on the back stay. Now it would be two or three. Dave was there and around for the rest of the week I think, and it was thursday night to wednesday back then with most people cruising home thursday thereafter. Big steve became a good mate and I took up with foredeck with him for the rest of the season. This was way back, 14 years ago now, phew!, in 1994 ( or 93??) towards the end of my living in Glasgow.

In 1994 (5?) I was probably on board a bit but got bummed off by them and Charlie Chips so as soon as I was not 'selected' for the then Rover series I booked myself in to Tighnabruaich sailing school. There was a jolly band of manchester high school girls, their teachers and some pouty fading beauty called romana or the like- a bearsdaen offspring doing the nicey nicey 2nd generation in child psychology. Her date came too- a prize asshole. I missed on that trick and also a prime bit of schooly. My crew was a teacher at the school who later remined me very of John Keefe. We started in wayfarers and progressed to the laser fun, which er was fun for two people. I remember it blew up one afternoon and we beat up the west Kyle from a picnic lunch in about 18knts wind. I kept the wee boat going and pointing, pinching to spill the gusts. If only I had kept up in dinghies after that day!

It was a windy first two days, the marking of the turn of late may weather patterns to wet-stormy away from my boyhood wonder days of sun for weeks in mid and late may ( always in time for exams!) there was a cocky instructor who had been on the last whitebread on Merit Cup I think. He didn't like me. We had wee drinking sessions in the byre of the lovely youth hostel, a former grand farm house or gentry villa which is no longer alas a youth hostel. Tighnabruach and kames is much as it always has been- at the end of a loop in a little used road and always on the edge of economic decrepitation.

I learnt how to rig boats, steer boats and generally have some fun with a sense for the wind. As with much of my early sailing ( pre books) I just absorbed a lot without it being fully consciously learnt or kind of half learnt it to let it fall in place later.

I had also just moved home in 94, one of those 'mistakes' of mine after being at RFM a short while. I can' remember doing any sailing later that year, but I reckon I must have got back on defiance.

In 95, I guess I had been doing various bits and pieces, thought I was on the train that year actually , maybe I am a year out on the above with sailing school in mind?? I was working in a 'take the pay cheque' job which was more trouble to commute than it was worth paying off a couple of grand of MSc debt/ 1994 debts. I advertised my services at the RNCYC with a preference for one design and got rewarded by Tom from Rajah calling me. I was set for a first delivery evening with Andrew, Patricia and some other guy and maybe some more people to get to Port Banatyne for my actually only ever Tobermory Race- once huge on the calendar in the clyde as the departure of gentlemen for cruising or West Highland Week post clyde week.

We must have had a totally unmemorable race, maybe I can think of going round the burnt islands with the kite needing dropped. We dined at a new posh resteranter on the edge of the basin at Ardrishaig. I met my enemy in the very freindly Rupert crew. Thereafter through the canal on a fairly mucky day If I remember right. The beauty of being piped through with Ivanhoe just a boat ahead of us though will stay with me as a prize memory as will the following day.

Because of the Doris Mor's big tide we had something like an 0530 start. It was a mucky night and I think we stayed on board due to the early doors day ahead. However it blew up a nice force 3 to 4 and we squeezed through the Doris under kite, me dumping it when we went shy. There was apparently a good few knots bad tide too.

Later on we all just parked up somewhere north of Croabh Haven or maybe off kerrara. I remember seeing "highlander" I think Scotts FC 10m was called at the time doping piroetts and defiance finnally chugging through us as the wind got up.

We all grouped up again off the castle and then the wind decided to blow and produced a rather spectacular run of the bunched up fleet right up the sound of mull to a rather hairy drop and 90' turn to the finish line almost on calf island.

I was mentioned in despatches to Lord and Master Roy the owner, and was going to be a firm fixture onboard. Given my disgraces on just magic and deviance, I was locked out of any quality sailing for a while anyway. I missed out on good IOD and the sigma 8ms sailing. Sod it. Also on a good deal of social at that point as Andrew had decided to be early middle aged.

If deviants were my baptism, then Raj' was my apprenticeship and we sailed in all conditions up to force 7, and I learnt navigation and watch leadership onboard her on the ambitious runs to Cork week in 96 and 98. I started with winches and pretty much stayed there until my inpasse with them in 99.

Cork week 96 was the smegma 33 nationals with I think 74 boats booked on. It was a dream like event- the delivery was fun, the partying was huge and most of all the weahter was brilliant. Light winds and sun. Neil McGregor was our erstwhile coach and while I trimmed jib and kite for the first hald of the week I moved forward to bow on the wednesday or thursday. Quite a line up! the line being over a mile long. If I have to say any one event was "the best" then of course it would be cork week 96. Even the delivery home was fun, given I should have been on a train and not a Jane Ross in the forepeak to Howth! I went on to see Johnny McAlpine in Belfast and have a taste of the city in state of renewal, including a tour up the shankhill to the museum.

The racing in 96 had everyhting and scottish boats dominated. on the third race or so went round the top mark third boat with St Joan and vendeval in front of us! We scored a fith and I think an 8th or tenth to end up 21st overall. We even had an outer four course - really fun and tough work. Also visitation to the Beamish brewery and a fine wee pish up there and good food over at Kinsale for one night.

1996 was the isthmus of my apprenticeships, with sailing often being a 5 times a week affair. I was working at the swimming pool so had plenty of time off. I did pipers tuesdays with big Tam, and even got on mr. dulls 505 for a tour. I think I sailed every weekend bar one or two from May to October and usually two evenings. I began also sailing with Harold Hood, who was a born winner with a killer instinct. Raj' didn't do wednesdays so I was on board with the hoods and this was good in many ways but I did fall back into being on the outside of the young crew a bit. Pipers were a bit more fun to be frank.

98 was a wander lust for me after the fantastic 96 week in cork. I was in madchester and the only shit I gave was booking a tour to Cork. this was aided by Andrew being in fatherhood time mid july but there came my down fall. There was a critical lack of confidence roy had and I reacted badly to this too. I did manage to fly in to dublin, do a swifty with the bint in Booterstown claiming I was the other side of dub when they arrived early in DunLaoghrie. I took the train as planned with big fat steve down to Arklow. Which was still a shitter of a town but had had the tour de france or someit through there so was in it's pageant bunting.

the week was a big let down, proving my "never go back" attitude which in this circumstance was justified. It was quite wet, misty, light winds on most days and us doing ultra conservative starts and death slot approaches on port. Coupled to Roys stubbornness on a frigging no 2 to no 1 shift on the short run.

Anyway my apprenticehip was served on board as both trimmer and foredeck man. I should have bowed out gracefully but then again they did treat me like shit. Some ex navy wanker who sailed previously on Phoenix ( 98 winner at cork) I can't remember his name., but he put me on the side of the boat and that was it.



The one thing I regret about the cafuffle in 99 was that I never did go back to OOD racing in earnest. However I had a very enriching 99-2002 where we won many races with my help from the laser 28, the hunter 707, Johnny Dryborougs T'jig II, converting machine, the IMX38 Braveheart and the FC 8m of Euan Morrison. ALso then the whole Menorca sailing week and my own tasar etc etc.

The resignation did leave me "boat less " for the leaving do at the RNCYC with ac ouple of Irish terts in my sights too. I was pretty stressed out at the time I have to say anyways with Anita and my other job.

Speaking of ood the years 1995-2000 were huge in the clyde. OOD dominated in fact. It would be interesting to see what money was involved then and now and who was funding such boats then and now. We had all the day boats with good turn outs of pipers and IODs in particular, then the sonatas, the very last races of the impala fleet in 95 or 6, the emegence of the Cork 1720 fleet, the small fleet of Euro 8ms, then of course the sigma 33s and even maybe a couple of starts for 38s on the clyde at that time. The forth as well had some od with also the 707 starting to make a fledgling fleet.

After 2000 I guess the bubble burst for many people in scotland. Everyone who was an employee had to work harder as did many small businesses. The rich got richer, house prices rocketed and the wee gap periods of high discrecionary earnings of the 70s, 80s and mid 90s evapourated in scotland into a spiral of money in bricks and mortar.

My early fukups with deviance, the cafuffle of my anger with Slapper Ross and my 'dog boat' label with the Raj kept me roundly out of 1720s or BH36s or the glamour pusses on the clyde. But I just went off and did my bit darn sarf didn't I!

So part IV will be a look at my down south exploits.