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Autumn Gales At Low Wray (WalterG)
Despite a somewhat intimidating weather forecast, I set off for Low Wray early on the Saturday, and arrived after a pleasant drive on a clear and sunny day! The slipway area was quite busy with undaunted OCSG members assembling their boats. Kevin and Jenny were there with Kevin the organiser of the event saying succinctly: "There's the campsite and there's the water"; a bit like, "There's the tea and sugar, the milk's in the fridge, and the kettle's on the boil, help yourself". And so we did. Kevin and Jenny were not sailing, as they no longer had a vehicle with which to bring a boat. Their previous one precociously seized up due to having a soupçon less oil than it was used to.
As I assembled Emerald Dawn, Bernard told me that he had arrived on Friday and thought he was going to be the only one to arrive, but none the less we fielded 12 boats on this lovely morning. By the time I launched Emerald Dawn the main portion of the fleet was over at Waterhead. It was a good sail over in a moderate westerly and bright sunshine. The majority of the fleet was mulling about at the inlet of the River Brathay. As if at a signal an expeditionary force sailed up the river between the reeds and trees. I could see DaveS, Jan & DaveP, Malcolm, Steve, Louise and crew, and the sea kayak. They heeled over sharply when the wind whipped through gaps in the trees. All heading into the unknown, would we see them again? Bernard sailed over and said "I'm not going up there. I've not come all this way to crawl up a river when there's all this lake to sail in!" My sentiments exactly. "They will pay for their temerity!" And so they did. Steve took an early bath up to the waist, forgot the soap of course. And Louise and crew took an unwanted dip as well. They missed the poisoned arrows and emerged much later more or less unscathed.
Emerald Dawn & Water Gypsy faced south, tally ho and off we go. Both boats leapt forward with the westerly wind on the beam. We passed Peter and Penny who were also sailing in fine style. They stayed up north and had lunch in camp. We surged on steadily for the next four miles, and then the wind coming over the Claife Heights headed us, forcing us to tack into it, strong gusts almost pushing the lee floats under. In this manner we sailed into Bowness Bay. The wind blew strongly into the bay and had us tacking to keep out of the way of the passenger boats. Things were getting hazardous so we sailed round the corner in fickle winds to land on the bank north of the eastern ferry terminal; the lake was so high that we sailed straight on to the grass.
We snugged down the sails, set off for the snack bar, and with hot soup and a bun we sat in the sun. The entertainment was good too with boats being pulled out at the boatyard for the winter. Later, as we drifted out from the shelter of the land we saw some of the fleet sailing down the eastern shore. Penny & PeterO (thanks for the photo - below left) were in the lead. Steve approached us in the now famous Maatsuyker and told us about the contretemps in the river. And once again, as if at a signal, the fleet turned north as one and sailed back to camp - RodL's formation-sailing training has clearly paid off! The sun was warm, the wind was good and the scenery was magnificent.
The slipway was in gridlock for a while as most of the group were not camping and had to pack their boats on roof racks and trailers. The weather was changing, with heavy clouds rolling in, so I took out Emerald's masts and lashed them down. Penny and Peter were only there for the day and wanted to end it with a meal at a pub, so they rounded up those of us that remained and we had a very good meal at The Sun in Hawkshead. As the remaining six set off back to camp the rain started, a portent of what was to come.
That night the rain crashed down and the wind roared through the trees like the sound of low flying jet aircraft, my sentry box of a tent took a bashing, but, thanks to heavy steel pegs and taught guy ropes, it survived it well. Others fared differently; one tent blown inside out and others flooded out. The morning broke misty and drizzly with a moderate wind blowing from the north. After a good breakfast I had enough courage to peek out of the tent. Hmm! Not bad. I strolled down to the slipway, pot of tea in hand and found that Neville had been out already. The wind was picking up.
Forgoing the mizzen, I reefed the main by a third and, with Neville following, Emerald Dawn punched her way out into the lake. Lots of white caps appeared and the sail was turning into a very lively one. I looked back and saw Neville's boat leap up a wave, both outriggers pointing to the sky like rockets about to be launched. The wind got stronger, spray was leaping up from the bow to lash across my face and the drizzle had turned to stinging rain. After half an hour or so of being flung about I ploughed into the calmer waters of coot bay, shaken and stirred. Neville headed back to camp, sensibly as it happened.
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