Sunday, 8 February 2026

Learning to Cross the Line at the Exact Moment the Klaxon Goes

There’s something magical about a perfect start.
Not early (that sinking feeling).
Not late (watching everyone disappear up the beat).
But crossing the line at full speed, bang on the klaxon, with the flag just dropping.

On a river like the Thames, that moment is less about brute speed and more about timing, judgement, and calm nerves.

Why the Start Matters So Much on a River

On open water you might claw it back. On a river? Not so much.

The first beat is often short
Wind bends and shifts near the banks
Clear air is gold dust

Get the start wrong and you’re immediately fighting dirty wind and bad water.

Step 1: Know Where the Line Really Is

The start line isn’t imaginary – but it is deceptive.

Transit the line before the start using two fixed objects (tree + clubhouse, buoy + pontoon, etc.)
Check it from both directions – rivers distort perspective
Memorise what “on the line” looks like from the helm position, not standing up

If you’re guessing where the line is, you’re already late.

Step 2: Time Your Run (Every Single Start)

This is the biggest upgrade most club sailors can make.

Sail from a fixed point to the line on a close-hauled course
Time how long it takes at normal starting speed
Do it twice. Boats lie. Average doesn’t.

Now you know whether you’re a 60-second, 45-second, or 30-second sailor.

That number becomes your anchor under pressure.

Step 3: Speed Control Beats Position

Being early is worse than being slightly back.

Use gentle S-turns to burn time
Luff briefly rather than stopping dead
Keep the boat moving – stationary boats can’t accelerate on a river

A slow, controlled approach with options beats charging the line and panicking.

Step 4: Use the Flag, Not Just the Sound

The klaxon is helpful. The flag is truth.

Sound can echo or lag
Flags don’t lie
Train yourself to glance up in the final seconds

The goal: the bow crosses as the flag moves, not after you hear it.

Step 5: Accept That Perfection Is Rare

Even very good sailors don’t nail it every time.

If you’re late but fast → keep your lane and sail your race
If you’re early → learn why, don’t beat yourself up
If it all goes wrong → congratulations, you’re learning

Every start teaches you something, even the ugly ones.

The Real Secret

The best starters aren’t aggressive.
They’re prepared.

They know:

where the line is
how long their boat takes
how to control speed under pressure

Do that, and one day you’ll hear the klaxon, see the flag, and realise you’re already going exactly where you want to be.

That moment?
Worth every bad start that came before it.

Saturday, 7 February 2026

Sailing Term: Cunningham

What it is, what it does, and why river sailors really should care

f you sail a dinghy for more than five minutes, someone will eventually say:
“Put a bit more Cunningham on.”

You nod wisely.
You pull a rope.
You hope for the best.

But what is the Cunningham, and why does it matter—especially on a shifty river like the Thames?

So… what is the Cunningham?

The Cunningham is a sail control that adjusts the tension along the luff of the mainsail.
It’s usually a rope or purchase system that pulls the sail downwards at the tack, separate from the halyard.

In plain English:
👉 it controls where the draft (the deepest part of the sail) sits.

What does pulling the Cunningham actually do?

More Cunningham on
- Pulls the draft forward
- Flattens the sail
- Opens the leech
- Reduces power
- Great when it’s windy or gusty
Less Cunningham (or off completely)
- Allows draft to move aft
- Creates a fuller sail
- Adds power
- Ideal in light winds

On rivers, where the wind changes its mind every 30 seconds, this matters more than you might think.

Cunningham vs Halyard – why not just pull harder?

Good question—and one many beginners ask.

The halyard gets the sail up
The Cunningham fine-tunes how the sail works

Once the sail is hoisted properly, the Cunningham lets you adjust sail shape on the fly, without re-hoisting or disturbing other controls.

Why the Cunningham matters on rivers

River sailing is all about:

Short beats
Sudden gusts
Tree-induced chaos
Boats going from under-powered to over-powered in seconds

A quick tweak of the Cunningham:

Depowers the sail without dumping the sheet
Keeps the boat flatter
Maintains flow over the sail
Makes tacks smoother and less frantic

In other words: it’s a thinking sailor’s control.

Beginner tip

If you’re new to sail controls:

Set it light to start with
Watch the wrinkles near the luff
Smooth wrinkles = too tight
A few vertical creases = about right in light airs

And remember: if in doubt, ease it.

Read the full explanation (with diagrams)

👉 https://pmrsailing.uk/sailing-lessons/sailing-terms-list/Cunningham.html

Friday, 6 February 2026

Knot of the Week: Round Turn and Two Half Hitches

If there’s one knot that quietly does a lot of heavy lifting on boats, it’s this one. The round turn and two half hitches is strong, tidy, adjustable, and kind to ropes and cleats. It’s my go-to for tying a dinghy up to a pontoon, ring, or post on the Thames.

Simple to tie. Hard to get wrong. Exactly what you want when the wind’s up and spectators are watching.

What is it good for?

Tying a boat to a ring, post, or pontoon
Mooring where you want security but easy release
Situations where the rope might be under load

The magic is in the round turn — those first wraps take most of the strain, leaving the half hitches just to keep things neat and secure.

How to tie it: simple stages

Stage 1: Make the round turn

Pass the rope around the post or ring twice (or even three times if things are lively).
These turns take the load and stop the rope slipping.

👉 Tip: If you stop here, you can already hold the boat safely while you finish the knot.

Stage 2: First half hitch

Take the free end:

Pass it over and around the standing part
Feed it back through the loop
Pull it snug

That’s your first half hitch.

Stage 3: Second half hitch

Repeat the same move:

Another half hitch
Sitting neatly next to the first
Pull tight

Done. Strong, secure, and easy to undo later.

Why sailors love this knot

✅ Very secure under load
✅ Easy to untie (even after a long sail)
✅ Doesn’t jam or damage the rope
✅ Works brilliantly with wet hands

On a river like the Thames, where stream and wind love to have opinions, this knot just gets on with the job.

Common mistakes to avoid

❌ Too few turns at the start (the round turn matters!)
❌ Half hitches tied the wrong way so they don’t lock neatly
❌ Leaving everything loose instead of snug and tidy

Thursday, 5 February 2026

Getting the Boat Into and Out of the Water

(or: why launching is where most drama happens)

Sailing books spend pages talking about points of sail, wind shifts, and race tactics.
They devote very little time to the moment when most mishaps actually happen:

Getting the boat into – and out of – the water.

On a river like the Thames, with narrow slipways, variable stream, slippery algae, and boats that always seem heavier than last week, launching and recovery deserve proper respect.

This is the unglamorous bit of sailing.
It’s also the bit that decides whether the day starts with a smile… or a soggy shoe and a bruised ego.

Before You Launch: Preparation Saves Embarrassment

Most launching problems start before the boat even reaches the slipway.

Do these checks away from the water:

Bung in (yes, really – check it again)
Rudder and tiller ready but not dragging
Painter attached and long enough
Sails sorted so nothing can escape mid-launch
Trolley wheels rolling freely (they won’t improve once wet)

If you’re using a trailer or winch system, this is also the moment to:

Check straps are off
Make sure the boat can actually slide
Confirm nobody is standing behind it “just in case” (boats do not stop politely)

Launching: Slow Is Smooth, Smooth Is Fast

Slipways are rarely flat, clean, or forgiving.

The golden rules:

Keep control of the boat at all times
Keep feet clear of wheels
Never rush because someone is watching

If the slipway is steep or slippery:

One person controls the boat
One person controls the trolley
Nobody improvises heroics

On rivers, the stream will often grab the bow before you’re ready.
That’s what the painter is for. Use it.

Once the boat is floating:

Hold it head-to-stream or head-to-wind
Remove the trolley calmly
Only then climb aboard

Launching should feel boringly controlled.
If it doesn’t, something is wrong.

Coming Ashore: Where Fatigue Bites

Recovering the boat is harder than launching:

You’re tired
The boat feels heavier
The slipway hasn’t improved since this morning

Key recovery tips:

Approach slowly, preferably into wind or stream
Step out before the boat touches hard objects
Get the trolley under the boat before lifting
Lift together, not heroically

If the boat stops half-on, half-off:

Pause
Re-position
Try again

Most damage happens in the final metre.

Trailers, Winches, and Gravity

Heavier boats (and aging sailors) benefit hugely from:

Winches
Electric slipway lifts
Letting physics do the work

Gravity is free.
Backs are not replaceable.

If you can winch the boat gently instead of hauling it, do so.
Your future self will thank you.

The Real Lesson

Launching and recovery aren’t the boring bits between sailing.

They’re core skills.

Done well:

The day starts smoothly
The boat stays undamaged
Everyone stays dry (mostly)

Done badly:

The sailing is remembered only as “that bit between disasters”.

Wednesday, 4 February 2026

Learning to Gain the Advantage in a Dinghy Sailing Race

When I first started racing a dinghy, I assumed the advantage went to whoever sailed fastest.
Experience (and a growing collection of bruised egos) has taught me otherwise.

In dinghy racing—especially on a river—the real advantage often comes from thinking, not hiking.

1. The Biggest Advantage: Starting Cleanly

You don’t win a race at the start, but you can absolutely lose it there.

On a river start line:

The wind is rarely even
The stream is always doing something unhelpful
One end of the line is almost always better than the other

Advantage tip:
Get to the favoured end early, even if it means starting slightly slower. A clear lane beats perfect speed every time.

2. Sail the Wind You’ve Got, Not the Wind You Want

River sailing teaches humility quickly. Gusts arrive sideways, disappear behind trees, then reappear just as you commit to a tack.

Advantage tip:

Watch the water, not just your sails
Tack into pressure, not away from it
If you’re lifting, keep going—don’t tack just because others do

The boat that tacks least often (while still going the right way) usually gains.

3. Height Is a Weapon (Used Carefully)

Pointing high feels slow. Until you look behind you.

Advantage tip:
Use height tactically:

To escape dirty air
To control boats to leeward
To force others into bad water or awkward tacks

On a narrow river, height can be more valuable than raw speed.

4. Boats Are Obstacles… and Opportunities

Every nearby boat affects your wind—and theirs.

Advantage tip:

Don’t sail in bad air unless you choose to
If you’re faster, pass decisively
If you’re slower, sit in clear air and wait for a mistake

Half of racing is simply not being where the problems are.

5. Mark Rounding: Free Places for the Prepared

Most overtakes don’t happen on the beat. They happen at marks.

Advantage tip:

Plan your approach early
Give yourself room to manoeuvre
Think two legs ahead, not one

A tidy, controlled rounding often gains you places without any shouting at all.

6. Use the River

Unlike lakes or the sea, rivers fight back.

Advantage tip:

Less stream near the banks (usually)
Eddies can help or hurt
Sometimes sailing further is actually quicker

The river rewards those who look up and think.

7. Race the Course, Not the Fleet

It’s tempting to fixate on that one boat you must beat.

Advantage tip:
Sail your own race.
Stick to your plan.
Let others make the mistakes.

The advantage often comes from being quietly consistent while others unravel.

Final Thought

Racing isn’t about being aggressive—it’s about being deliberate.

The best advantage you can gain in a dinghy race is simple:

Be calm, be observant, and be ready to change your mind.

And yes… occasionally that means tacking when nobody else does.

Tuesday, 3 February 2026

Learning to Splice – Turning Rope into Something Useful

(and why every sailor should give it a go)

There’s something deeply satisfying about splicing. Not just because it looks properly nautical, but because it turns an ordinary bit of rope into something stronger, neater, and more reliable than a knot ever could be.

As someone learning to sail later in life, splicing felt like one of those “real sailor” skills—right up there with judging a gust by the ripples on the water, or stopping the boat exactly where you meant to (occasionally by accident).

What is splicing?

Splicing is the art of interweaving the strands of a rope to form a permanent loop, join two ropes together, or finish an end neatly so it doesn’t unravel.
Unlike knots:

it retains more of the rope’s strength
it won’t shake loose
and it looks beautifully tidy

On rivers like the Thames, where we’re constantly tying up, towing, mooring, and recovering boats, a good splice earns its keep very quickly.

The first splice most sailors learn: the eye splice

An eye splice creates a fixed loop in the end of a rope. Perfect for:

painters
mooring lines
attaching to cleats, rings, or carabiners

In traditional three-strand rope, the process is wonderfully logical:

Unlay the three strands
Form the size of loop you want
Tuck each strand over and under in turn
Repeat… patiently… several times

The first attempt usually looks like a lumpy snake that’s swallowed a tennis ball. The second is better. By the third, you start thinking:

“Ah. I see why sailors like this.”

Modern ropes: still spliceable, just trickier

Most dinghy sheets and control lines are now braided ropes, not traditional three-strand.
They can be spliced—but:

they need a fid (or improvisation involving electrical tape and optimism)
they require following steps exactly
and they punish impatience

That said, a neat splice in modern rope is immensely satisfying—and far slimmer than tying knots that catch on everything at exactly the wrong moment.

Why bother, when knots are quicker?

Fair question. Knots are brilliant—and you absolutely need them.
But splices:

don’t work loose
don’t weaken the rope as much
run smoothly through blocks
and quietly say “someone here knows what they’re doing”

Also, there’s a lovely winter-evening appeal to splicing:
a bit of rope, a cup of tea, and the slow joy of making something by hand.

Learning later? Perfect.

One of the joys of learning to sail at 65+ is that there’s no rush. Splicing rewards:

patience
method
and the willingness to redo it when it goes wrong

Which it will. Several times. That’s fine. Even the bad ones teach you something.

Final thought

Splicing isn’t just a technical skill—it’s a small connection to centuries of sailors who made, fixed, and trusted their own gear. And the first time you moor up using a line you spliced yourself… that’s a quiet little win worth enjoying

Monday, 2 February 2026

Nearly all the boats I see have a Bermuda rig… But is it really the best choice for river sailing?

Nearly all the boats I see have a Bermuda rig…

But is it really the best choice for river sailing?

Walk along almost any dinghy park and you’ll see the same silhouette everywhere: a tall mast, a triangular mainsail, maybe a jib in front. The Bermuda rig has become the default setting for modern sailing.

But rivers aren’t the open sea. They’re narrow, bendy, tree-lined, bridge-infested, and full of wind that behaves… creatively. So it’s worth asking the awkward question:

Is the Bermuda rig actually ideal for river sailing?

Why the Bermuda rig took over

To be fair, it didn’t win by accident.

Pros

Efficient to windward (in steady airflow)
Simple controls and familiar handling
Lightweight spars and easy sail handling
Works brilliantly on open water and race courses

For lakes, estuaries, and the sea, it’s hard to argue against.

Where rivers fight back

On rivers like the Thames, the wind rarely plays nicely.

River realities

Wind bends around trees and buildings
Sudden shifts of 30–90° are normal
Gusts arrive vertically, not horizontally
Long lulls followed by savage puffs

Here’s the problem:
A tall, high-aspect Bermuda sail depends on clean airflow. When the wind is dirty, broken, or coming from unexpected angles, that lovely triangular sail spends a lot of time stalled.

What older rigs did better

Before the Bermuda rig became dominant, river sailors knew their environment well.

Gaff and other low-aspect rigs

More sail area lower down, where river wind often lives
Better power at low speeds
More forgiving when the wind shifts suddenly
Often easier to keep moving through tacks in fluky air

They’re not as “efficient” on paper — but rivers aren’t paper.

So why don’t we see them now?

A few very practical reasons:

Racing rules and class designs favour Bermuda rigs
Modern materials made tall rigs easier and cheaper
Training pathways all assume Bermuda rigs
Fewer people now grow up sailing rivers exclusively

Efficiency won. Versatility quietly lost.

The real answer (as usual)

The Bermuda rig isn’t wrong for river sailing — far from it.
But it is a compromise, and not always the best one.

For river sailors, success often comes not from the rig itself, but from:

Excellent sail trim
Fast reactions to shifts
Keeping momentum at all costs
Knowing when not to pinch

And occasionally muttering,

“This would be easier with a gaff…”

Final thought

If you only ever sailed rivers, you might design something very different from the boats we mostly sail today.

So next time you’re parked head-to-wind under a tree while someone else ghosts past…
It might not be your sailing.
It might be 150 years of rig fashion.