All posts by Simon

Spring is in the air and also the club AGM, March 2017

Spring is in the air. It’s Sunday 12th March 2017.

A leisurely club walk around produced some great images. The colour blue is creeping back into the sky. A whole new sailing season is now just ahead of us!

Members please note: the 2017 AGM will take place 26th March – 10:30am at Wyre Villa Football Club – Stalmine. Annual subscriptions are due 1st April. They can be paid at the AGM. Let’s all get together and talk about another great year to be had, sailing in and around Morecambe Bay.

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Looking to the south.
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Looking to the east.
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Today there was a nine metre tide at around 11.30am.
Dirty boat 2016
Dirty boat 2016
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Clean boat 2017
Thunderball Heavy Weather
Let’s get out there in 2017!

Fishing Trip in a Westerly Chieftain, Nov 2016

At the very backend of October, members Malcolm, Tom and Simon from Wardleys Yacht Club braved the chilly airs and warnings of murky weather and set forth under full sail on a fishing trip. Apart from a few flatties that were too small to keep, business was slow.  Nevertheless,  oil lamps and a cosy cabin kept everyone feeling warm and comfortable.  And in the time honoured tradition, there was some medicinal help in the form of a crate of beer and a bottle of scotch.

A Westerly Chieftain heading out in to Morecambe Bay

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Grey was the colour of the sky. The sail over was quite uneventful. We kept our engine put-putting all the way. The sails were really just for effect and to cushion the incessant Morecambe Bay roll. The three of us stood at our respective helms under dripping hoods. For the whole day the rain pitter-pattered all around.

Under full sail mid Morecambe Bay
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Tom and Malcolm with rods and bait.

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On board we had fishing tackle boxes galore. They contained every conceivable device and trickery to get the fish to bite, and to haul them out into our awaiting frying pans! Alas, the lemon and  garnish lay idle. We had not picked the right night. Or maybe the fish were onto our little caper?

A Canadian Canoe club arrived

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We crossed paths with a Canadian canoe club. We expected them to have come from afar.  But no, they had just paddled-out  from nearby Roe Island. Still, no complaint, they filled the Ship Inn with good conversation and laughter. And as well, there was some thought provoking poetry recitals. The erudite looking canoeists lapped it up. The Wardley’s one member present, quietly watched on, much appreciating it all.

‘Luath’ at anchor.

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Manta 19 ‘Luath’ came along in support. Whilst the men in serious wet-weather kit were fishing on the Chieftain, ‘Luath’s skipper took a moment to paddle around in the Avon dinghy and brush-off last month’s accumulated mud. On the island, see above, you can see the Ship Inn and neighbouring Customs cottages.

A slide show of photo taken that weekend

Three men in two boats. October 2016

The weather forecast looked favourable so an early October trip across Morecambe Bay was arranged.  It was the first trip for Manta 19  ‘Luath’ — a boat that has spent twenty odd years sat on a mooring on Windermere / Ulswater and more recently in a farmer’s field.

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Algae is a problem for boats sat idle for long periods out of the sun. However, and here’s a trick, if a boat has been waxed before hand, the green stuff comes off much easier. It took five or six buckets of sea water allied with some good honest elbow grease to get ‘Luath’ looking spic and span.

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The three men and two boats arrived at Piel Island and spent the night rafted up side by side.  A shore visit to the island’s one and only public house was made, and for the time of year there was an encouraging number of sailors at the bar making merry.

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The Saturday’s out-bound passage was cloudy but generally fine and Sunday’s home-bound passage was fantastic —  we had unadulterated sunshine all the way. The three men and two boats started early to make the most of the tides. As you can see there was a lovely sun rise over over the town of Morecambe. Behold!

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Now take a look at the view of the Lake District fells above. This was taken whilst heading up the Barrow channel. We saw a hot air balloon traversing the hillside from the right towards the wind turbines. Rather them than me!

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Earlier during the passage home  there was no point  in parting company, so we remained rafted-up.  Thus lucky ‘Luath’ got a free ride home — cheers ‘Sika’!


Now see the fun for yourselves on YouTube: –

Club dock project and The Junior Gods

Bob Hoath reports that our excellent team of construction savy members have completed work on the club dock project. Yes, its finally finished and ready to provide good service. All members, and those interested in becoming members, are welcome to come down and do the  ‘Wardleys Creek board walk’. Come and check it out and chat about anchors, sails, outboards, adventure on the high seas, or anything for that matter . Great views across the River Wyre thrown in to-boat .

 

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Taken from the far-end looking back at the club house.
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An array of subterranean chains keep the new jetty from parting company with the land.
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The group of houses is where the road emerges from Hambleton Village and skirts around the creek to the club house.

Junior Gods

Us mud berthers are Junior Gods having time off! You didn’t know this?

Around here, some people might suppose that the nice chaps and chapesses on Windermere that are often seen helming in southern ocean rated oilies, sheltered by  gadget festooned consoles and behind enormous stainless steel wheels (auto-helm at a touch of a button) cruising the North Lake are the true kings. They may well be, but we at Wardleys Creek out rank them! This is how it goes: –

The Junior God looked from his place
In the conning towers of heaven,
And he saw the world through the span of space
Like a giant golf-ball driven.
And because he was bored, as some gods are,
With high celestial mirth,
He clutched the reins of a shooting star,
And he steered it down to earth.
The Junior God, ‘mid leaf and bud,
Passed on with a weary air,
Till lo! he came to a pool of mud,
And some hogs were rolling there.
Then in he plunged with gleeful cries,
And down he lay supine;
For they had no mud in paradise,
And they likewise had no swine.

The Junior God forgot himself;
He squelched mud through his toes;
With the careless joy of a wanton boy
His reckless laughter rose.
Till, tired at last, in a brook close by,
He washed off every stain;
Then softly up to the radiant sky
He rose, a god again.

The Junior God now heads the roll
In the list of heaven’s peers;
He sits in the House of High Control,
And he regulates the spheres.
Yet does he wonder, do you suppose,
If, even in gods divine,
The best and wisest may not be those
Who have wallowed awhile with the swine?

The Junior God – Robert William Service