items of interest

We sailed in the Fastnet
Below is an extract from an account by Greg Nasmyth of the experiences that he and three other club members had when they sailed in the Fastnet four years ago. They joined the club in March 2001. With no sailing experience they did the RYA level 1 course and learnt to sail in the club GP14's..
"Admittedly I'm not at my best on Sunday mornings, and by the time I arrive (late), park the car and make my way down towards Wembley sailing club, white sails are already drifting dreamingly against the back drop of traffic meandering towards Brent Cross. So I buy a cup of coffee and take a seat on the balcony and await their return.
Why did Huw Evans, Dom Dowell and Pat Dobson and myself swap the football field for the demands of this year's Rolex Fastnet Challenge; a six hundred mile yacht race starting from Cowes I.O.W. Towards Lands Endacross the Irish Sea, round the Fastnet Rock and return via the Isles of Scilly and finishing in Plymouth.

Pat and Huw's introduction to the high seas came the summer before, when they were caught in a storm off Ibiza. 'An experience that was to eventually lead to their participation in a race renowned the world over as one of the toughest. But before that they had to learn how to sail. They found Wembley Sailing Club on the internet. The Rear commodore, Brian Whyte, arranged a RYA level 1 sailing course, race training, and use of the club boats. Within a couple of weeks we were participating in the club's Sunday morning races. 'Not very successfully,' admits Pat Dobson,
'but what we learnt at Wembley was invaluable when it came to racing on the bigger boats.

The next step was to find a boat on which to compete. A visit to the Earl's Court Boat Show proving productive, Windward Sailing offering them places aboard the forty-foot racing boat 'Independent Bear', which had previously won Cowes Week. 'Our philosophy towards the race was let's not hang around, let's do this as quick as possible.' Says Huw. The boat was skippered by a professional yachtsman and despite the fact that all the crew had paid for the privilege, he was a real tyrant, working us hard. 'There was a lot of grumbling after the first training weekend,' admits Pat Dobson, 'two guys never came back.

For the first two days of this year's Fastnet the fleet endured near-gale conditions. Within the first twenty-four hours, twenty-two of the 227 yachts participating, had withdrawn through gear failure. A Force 7 northwesterly wind was blowing in from the Atlantic, not only making it impossible to sail a direct course to the rock but driving a large, cumbersome sea before it. For the first day and night Independent Bear tacked back and forth through mountainous seas, making little progress. 'It was desperate,' recalls Dom, 'the most gruelling, uncomfortable thing I'd ever experienced.' On board, the crew of twelve, seasick and exhausted, struggled to keep the boat racing.
Huw recalled being woken for his watch at three in the morning. 'The cabin floor was under water, and every time a wave crashed onto the deck, more would seep through the forward hatch, or down the mast. Sometimes it would pour down the companion way like a scene from Titanic.' Only an ongoing effort with bucket and sponge kept the water level in check, the cold light of morning revealing that anything that had not been properly stowed, sleeping bags, change of clothes,
food even, was now sloshing about on the floor. Up on deck conditions were not much better. The deck was near vertical, the only way to move around was to physically climb. Much of their watch was spent 'on the rail', the crew sitting on the boat's side, feet dangling over the edge, using their weight to counter the heeling action of mast and sails. We would remain in this position, huddled together for warmth,for up to six hours at a time. Even in 'full metal jacket', watertight, tape-sealing foul weather gear and boots, we found that the waves and stinging spray penetrated our outer garments, leaving us damp and cold.
Pat Dobson's job as bow man meant he was particularly exposed to the elements. 'Twenty minutes into the race I was soaked through,' he recounts, 'and remained that way for three days.' It was during these trying conditions we realized just why the skipper had been so hard on us. 'Most of us were tripping in and out of consciousness,' recounts Pat. 'No-one had slept and we were all exhausted. Skipper got us through, he was just unbelievable. I don't think he slept until we reached the rock, a real inspiration.'

By Tuesday afternoon, having crossed the Irish Sea, the Bear was within thirty miles of her destination. In four hours she would round the rock and they would be on their way home. Or so we thought. Another wind shift headed them and they were forced to beat to windward again. Four hours turned into eight, and it wasn't until late Tuesday evening that the dark outline of the Fastnet lighthouse finally emerged from the grey mist. 'Elation no.' Dom shakes his head. 'Just relief that we'd made it and could now go home.

In comparison to the gruelling outward leg, the voyage back was largely uneventful. Sailing with the prevailing wind, they were able to set a spinnaker and make good speed. For the first time in days we were able to remove our foul weather gear, the several damp, cloying layers beneath, and bask in the sunlight. Large pods of dolphins, playing in the bow's pressure wave, accompanied us, and by Wednesday evening we had rounded the Scilly Islands and were heading towards the Cornish coast. At eleven forty-seven on Thursday morning we crossed the finish line at the outer breakwater Plymouth Harbour. It had taken us three days and nineteen hours to complete the 600 odd miles, finishing overall a respectable 41st".
Greg Nasmyth

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