I thought I might regale you lot of one of the best day's sailing I've ever had.
My Uncle Phill passed away in February this year, and my cousin Andrew asked me whether I would take him and my Aunt out to sea to scatter his ashes, along with the ashes of his favourite dog, Pepper.
It was a fitting finale to a wonderful life of sailing, as mine was the last boat Phil sailed on when he was alive. That day back in 2010 was much the same as last Saturday, a stiff South Westerly which prompted Phil, a man who was thrifty with his words, to remark simply "that was a whole lot of fun" before shaking my hand and driving home to Wellington NSW where he'd retired.
So at 11.15am Saturday we dropped the mooring in Careel Bay, sailing off silently in a flukey breeze that saw us tack twice between other boats. Phil hated using the engine, even if it was breathless. I was lucky to have Andrew, an accomplished sailor, and his best mate Kerry who in his years has owned a few larger boats, but raced extensively up and down the East Coast and obviously knew a lot about sail trim. Soon we had Dulcamara trimmed and balanced under full main and #2 after adjusting leech, vang, backstay and outhaul. We had 6 Adults and one 8 year old, and she was doing a sustained 6 knots inside Pittwater before heading due east on a reach from just off Lion Island.
At the 2.5nm mark, we turned about 180 deg and headed back towards West Head. At this point, we were now sailing pretty level, and the wind had backed off a little. The perfect time for the ashes ceremony. I recited "Sea Fever" by John Masefield as Pepper and Phil were let loose over the ocean.
At that point, the wind came up a few more knots and there was a big swirl effect that saw the ashes blow back into the cockpit covering us all, and getting in our eyes, mouths and hair, and billowing all over the boat..... at first we thought it a bit odd, but then realised how fitting it was for someone who revelled in such conditions to get one back on us all. We laughed, and cheered and then sheeted on for the sail home.
By 3pm we were in the Basin having a beer and some chicken and enjoying the calm sunset before a quick motor back to the mooring. An unforgettable day, a day, to me at least that makes the money and time you put in to a boat all well worth while, and if I never ever got to sail again, could remember as "one of those days"..........
For those who haven't read Sea Fever, here it is.....
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.
John Masefield (1878-1967).
(English Poet Laureate, 1930-1967.)