When we'd fitted the new engine to Ishtar last winter, I'd run in new heavy duty electrical cables from the starter battery to the engine. Last time out, we noticed that the blocks of plyboard I'd stuck to the engine room roof with a sikaflex clone to hold up these wires had dropped, leaving the battery cables hanging down close to the engine.
The first job was to rehang the wires, which Louise did expertly, me being unable to work due to an arm injury. Maintenence over, we decided that a quick sail up the Haven to Milford would be nice.
When we started sailing three years ago, we agreed that I'd do the bulk of the learning, figuring that it would be better to have one person with a larger amount of experience than both of us with a small amount. This has meant that I am probably more able to sail Ishtar than is Louise, although she is undoubtedly better at handling the boat under power.
As Louise now attempts to 'catch up', experience-wise, we find that the best way to simulate the true learning experience is if I stay well clear, preferably down below, and offer no help or guidance at all. Louise enjoys this, and often tells me to 'shut up' and let her do it herself at such times.
So, she set the Genoa, Tigger and I were confined to the cable tier and Ishtar with her 'single handed' female crew slowly crept up the haven, her sail caressed by a very light Westerly and her hull by the clear warm Pembrokeshire waters.
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Single handed"]
[/caption]The single handed simulation performed well - Louise was suitably stressed, listening to the movement of ferries Pilots, tugs and tankers on VHF channel 12, avoiding vessels at berth, and the vagaries of the light winds around these huge hulks. By the time we reached the Milford shelf, she realised we were at low tide. She called the pierhead and, out of courtesy, asked if we could tie alongside the Mackerel Stage to provision.
'Provision' being the best verb I can think of to describe a dash to Tesco for Tiramisu - Louise had forgotten to bring a dessert, a fact which nearly resulted in the first ever single handed mutiny.
Then came the only slight mistake of the day. A slight navigational error on the way in to the Mackerel stage resulted in us running aground. This was no earth shattering collision though, no splinters of wood, no great grinding of fibreglass against rock. In fact, I didn't feel a thing, and if it were not for Louise saying 'We're not moving any more' I would have missed the event entirely.
We were quickly off and moving again and Louise set us against the Mackerel stage perfectly, and tied us off. It was only then that she admitted 'I'm shaking'. To me, this showed the effectiveness of our simulated single handed passage - Louise really felt the pressure of doing the whole thing on her own, and this, hopefully will stand her in good stead should I become incapacitated or fall overboard and she has to do it for real.
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="I'm shaking"]
[/caption]The tiramisu run was successful, and the cake itself very much enjoyed later, as was the King Prawn Jalferezi and Mushroom korma with chapattis. Louise sailed us back to Dale, beating all the way with full main and genoa and tied us up on the mooring, again, all 'solo'.
We left early the following morning, but it was a very successful exercise.
