Race scoring at the club: pen-and-paper or iPads and phones?

There’s a special kind of romance to race scoring with a clipboard: the wind flaps the paper, the pencil refuses to write because it’s damp, and someone shouts “SAIL NUMBER 42!” while you’re busy trying to stop the results sheet making a bid for freedom. It’s traditional. It’s character-building. It’s also the reason half of us have handwriting that looks like a seismograph during an earthquake.

So… should we keep the clipboard and carbon paper, or move to iPads/phones and let the gadgets do the heavy lifting?

What pen-and-paper still does brilliantly

1) It always works. No Wi-Fi. No battery. No “app update required”.
2) It’s fast for the basics. If you’re recording simple finish order for a small fleet, a decent results sheet and a competent scribe is hard to beat.
3) It’s transparent. Anyone can see what was written down, when, and by whom.

But paper has two enemies: water and humans. Water turns your ink into modern art; humans transpose sail numbers, miss a boat, forget a code (DNF/DNS/OCS), or drop a sheet overboard at the precise moment you finally got it right.

What phones and tablets do brilliantly

Used well, digital scoring is less “fancy tech” and more “fewer late-night re-checks”.

1) Fewer transcription errors. You enter once, not twice (on the water → then again into a computer later).
2) Results can appear immediately. Some systems publish online as soon as you hit “save”, which is great for keen racers and even better for impatient ones. HalSail, for example, is designed for entering results on any device and seeing them online straight away.
3) Handy scoring rules. Proper race-scoring software handles series scoring, discards, codes, ties, and multiple scoring systems without needing someone who “knows Excel”. Sailwave explicitly supports configurable scoring systems and is self-contained (no Excel required).

The hidden gotchas with going digital

Digital isn’t automatically better; it’s better when the system is set up for real race-day life:

• Screen + sunlight + wet fingers can be a comedy trio.

• Battery anxiety is real (especially on cold days).

• One person who knows the system is a single point of failure.

• Connectivity can be patchy (committee boat / far end of the river).

If you choose an online-first tool, look for an approach that still works sensibly when signal is weak (or have a paper fallback).

A very sensible middle way (my favourite): “Belt-and-braces scoring”

For most clubs, the sweet spot is:

On the water: record finish order/times on paper and enter into a phone/tablet if practical.
Ashore: publish from the digital system, but keep the paper sheet as the audit trail.

This gives you:

• resilience (paper backup),

• speed (digital publishing),

• and fewer “we’ll fix it later” moments.

Practical tool options that clubs actually use

Here are three common “levels”, from simplest to more feature-rich:

1) Start simple (desktop/laptop after racing): Sailwave
Great if you’re happy entering results ashore and want robust series scoring and publishing support. Sailwave is designed as dedicated scoring software and doesn’t require Excel.

2) Online scoring and quick publishing: HalSail
Designed to run in a browser on phones/tablets/laptops, with immediate online results and even “on the water” entry options.

3) Free Windows program (offline): Hal’s Race Results
A downloadable Windows option if you want to keep everything local/offline, with the online option available separately via HalSail.

A quick decision guide for your club

Choose paper-first if:

• small fleets, informal racing, minimal series complexity,

• lots of volunteers rotating through duty,

• you want maximum robustness with minimum training.

Choose digital-first if:

• multiple fleets, pursuit races, handicap maths, discards, championships,

• you regularly publish results and want them quickly,

• you’re tired of retyping everything after racing.

Choose hybrid if:

• you want speed and certainty,

• you often have new volunteers on duty,

• you race in conditions where screens and signal are… optimistic.

A tiny checklist if you do go digital

• One device is dedicated to scoring (not also taking photos of “that capsize”).

• Power bank + charging cable live in the race box.

• Waterproof case or zip pouch.

• A printed “how to” sheet for the scoring workflow.

• Paper backup sheet always on hand (because sailing)

 

Using pulleys to change rope tensions (without growing biceps the size of fenders)

There’s a moment in every sailor’s life when you pull on a rope with all your dignity, and the boat replies by doing… absolutely nothing. That’s when you discover the ancient maritime truth:

If you can’t pull harder, add a pulley.
(Preferably two. Or six. Sailors love pulleys the way photographers love lenses.)

Pulleys on boats are usually called blocks. And the reason we use them is simple: they let you trade pulling force for pulling distance. You don’t get something for nothing — unless you’re counting friction, which you absolutely are, because friction always turns up uninvited.

---

The core idea: mechanical advantage (a.k.a. “purchase”)

When you rig a rope through blocks, you can make a system where your pulling force is multiplied.

• A 2:1 purchase means: you pull with half the force, but twice the rope.

• A 4:1 purchase means: quarter the force, four times the rope.

It’s like gearing on a bike. Easy gear = more pedalling, less pain.

Rule of thumb:
✅ Mechanical advantage ≈ number of rope parts supporting the moving block
(If you’re staring at a spaghetti rig and muttering “how many bits of rope are holding that thing up?”, you’re doing it correctly.)

---

A quick tour: 1:1, 2:1, 3:1, 4:1 (and why sailors keep going)

1:1 (no advantage)

You pull. The sail moves. You feel strong. The boat giggles.

2:1 (the “ohhh, that’s better” setup)

One moving block attached to the thing you’re hauling (boom, sail, etc.). Rope goes from a fixed point → around the moving block → to your hand.

You pull 2 metres of rope to move the load 1 metre, but it feels about half as heavy (minus friction).

3:1 (when you want more help but still want to rig it before tea)

Often used in cunning ways (hello, cunningham and kicker/vang systems). It’s a common “enough power without needing a degree in macramé” setup.

4:1 (dinghy control lines’ comfort zone)

Very common on mainsheet systems, kickers, outhauls, and downhauls on modern dinghies — especially when you’d rather adjust sail shape than do a deadlift.

---

“But why doesn’t my 4:1 feel like 4:1?”

Because friction is the taxman of sailing systems.

Every time the rope:

• bends around a sheave,

• rubs on a cheek block,

• goes through a cleat,

• or runs at a weird angle…

…you lose efficiency. A theoretical 4:1 might feel like 3:1 (or 2.5:1 on a tired, salty Tuesday).

How to reduce friction:

• Use decent ball-bearing blocks where it matters

• Keep leads fair (straight-ish)

• Use the right rope diameter for the sheaves

• Replace furry, flattened lines (yes, it’s emotionally difficult)

---

Distance vs force: the trade you’re making

If you rig more purchase:

• ✅ Easier to pull

• ❌ More rope to pull in

• ❌ More rope in the cockpit (also known as “tripwire collection”)

• ❌ More blocks, more friction, more things to rattle and mock you

So the “best” system is usually the one that’s:

• powerful enough to adjust under load,

• simple enough to rig when it’s cold,

• tidy enough that you don’t accidentally tie yourself to the boat.

---

Real boat examples (where you’ll actually meet these systems)

• Mainsheet: often 3:1 to 6:1 in dinghies (higher in bigger boats), sometimes with ratchet blocks to reduce hand load.

• Kicker/Vang: commonly 4:1 to 12:1 (often cascaded) so you can control leech tension without turning into a gym membership.

• Cunningham/Downhaul: frequently 2:1 to 6:1 because sail cloth doesn’t care about your feelings.

• Outhaul: 4:1 is common on modern rigs.

• Jib sheets: usually 1:1 (you need speed), but sometimes assisted by winches on bigger boats.

---

Bonus: cascades (when you want power without a tower of blocks)

A cascade is basically purchases stacked together, like:

• a 2:1 pulling a 4:1 to make 8:1 overall.

It keeps things compact and can reduce the number of blocks travelling up and down the boat like a lift system in a shopping centre.

---

A tiny practical “spot the purchase” trick

If you’re on the bank (or in the boat) and want to estimate the purchase:

1. Find the moving part (the block attached to the boom/sail/control).

2. Count how many rope segments are pulling that moving bit.

3. That’s roughly your mechanical advantage.

Then subtract a bit for friction and optimism.

---

The sensible conclusion (and a mildly heroic one)

Pulleys don’t create free energy — they create options. They let you adjust sail controls precisely, repeatedly, and without needing to ask your crew to “just hang on a sec while I grunt at this rope.”

And if anyone tells you adding another block is cheating, remind them that sailing is 90% applied physics and 10% trying not to drop things in the river.

 

Sailing Term: Downhaul (the “make the sail behave” rope)

If your sail looks like it’s trying to cosplay as a baggy bedsheet, the downhaul is one of the controls that helps you restore dignity.

Definition (plain English):
A downhaul is a line (sometimes a simple rope, sometimes a fancy little purchase system) used to adjust tension along the luff — the leading edge of the sail. On many dinghies it’s doing the same job people often call the cunningham: tightening the front of the sail to change its shape.

What it actually does on the water:

• Pull it on (more tension): flattens the sail, moves the draft forward, and helps in stronger winds (less drag, less heeling, fewer “why are we lying down?” moments).

• Ease it (less tension): allows a fuller sail shape for lighter winds (more power when the breeze is feeling shy).

Where it matters most:

• Upwind: when sail shape is everything and boatspeed is a jealous god.

• Reefing (mainsail): helps pull the sail down and keep things tidy when you reduce sail area.

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

 

Knot of the Week: The Sheet Bend

If the bowline is the King of Knots, then the sheet bend is the friendly matchmaker. It’s what you use when you’ve got two ropes that need to become one rope, especially when they’re different thicknesses — like a chunky dock line meeting a weedy bit of dinghy cord and trying not to look awkward.

It’s called a sheet bend because sailors used it for attaching a sheet (control rope) to the corner of a sail. These days it’s still very much alive in dinghy sailing, kayaking, camping, climbing-adjacent activities (with caveats), and “someone forgot the right length of rope” moments. At Upper Thames Sailing Club it’s also a classic: you’ll see it when people are extending painter lines, lashing something temporarily, or fixing a problem with a rope that is definitely too short.

When would I use it?

• Joining two ropes of different diameters (its superpower)

• Making a temporary longer line (e.g., towing, tying to a buoy line, retrieving something)

• Quick fixes where you want a join that’s reliable but still easy to undo

If you want extra security (slippery rope, very different thicknesses, or anything you don’t want to swim after), you use its bigger, slightly more cautious sibling: the Double Sheet Bend.

How to tie a Sheet Bend (simple stages)

1. Make a bight (a U-shape) in the thicker rope. Hold it so it looks like a little looped bridge.

2. Take the thinner rope and pass the end up through the bight from underneath.

3. Wrap the end of the thinner rope around the back of the bight.

4. Bring the end back round and tuck it under itself (so it nips against the standing part of the thinner rope).

5. Dress it (pull it neat) and pull tight on both standing parts.

✅ Memory check: “Up through the bight, round the back, under itself.”

What can go wrong?

• Wrong tuck: If you don’t tuck the end under itself, you’ve invented a new knot called The Future Disappointment.

• Too little tail: Leave a sensible tail (especially with slippery modern ropes).

• Not dressed: A messy knot is a weaker knot. Like a sail hoisted with the batten pocket inside out.

Double Sheet Bend (the ‘belt and braces’ version)

Tie it exactly the same… but instead of making one wrap around the bight, make two wraps before tucking under itself.
It grips better on different rope sizes and is kinder when things get wet, wiggly, and annoying.

Quick safety note

The sheet bend is excellent for joining ropes — but if this is critical load / life safety stuff, follow the proper guidance for your activity and rope type. For dinghy sailing jobs, it’s brilliant. For “hold my bodyweight over a ravine”, pick the right knot and system for that job.

 

Why are dinghies swapping the trusty Vang for a GNAV?

Wandering around the Dinghy Show, I started playing a little game: “Spot the kicker.” Not the bloke offering free stickers (though he was enthusiastic), but the boom vang—the bit of rigging that pulls the boom down and stops the mainsail turning into a baggy windsock the moment you ease the mainsheet. On the older designs, it’s right there: a very visible chunk of control stringage (and bruising potential) living below the boom. On a surprising number of newer boats, though, the kicker had apparently… vanished.

It hadn’t gone missing. It had simply been spelt backwards and moved to a more civilised address.

A GNAV is basically an inverted vang: instead of pulling the boom down from underneath, it pushes it down from above, using a compression strut between mast and boom. Same job (boom control, leech tension, twist control), different geometry—and crucially, far more space in the cockpit because you’re no longer trying to limbo under a kicker system at the worst possible moment. Manufacturers and chandlers are very open about this being the headline benefit: removing the conventional kicker gives a “huge gain in cockpit space”.

And that cockpit space isn’t just about comfort (though I’m absolutely in favour of any innovation that reduces the number of times my kneecaps meet stainless steel). On modern dinghies—especially the ones designed around active manoeuvres, rapid tacks, and crew moving forward aggressively—clutter below the boom is a genuine performance penalty. One review of a performance dinghy with a GNAV points out it helps the crew stay right forward because there’s more room to move. In plain English: less rig to trip over, faster crew movement, cleaner boat handling.

There’s also a “modern rig” design logic at play. As boats evolve, there’s been a steady push towards cleaner control layouts, fewer snag points, and systems that are easier to operate under load. GNAVs aren’t magic—your mainsail still needs proper leech control—but by moving the hardware above the boom, you can often create a tidier, more ergonomic set-up for controls and crew. (And anything that reduces the chance of snagging a toe strap, a buoyancy aid toggle, or your dignity is a win.)

So why don’t all boats have a GNAV? Because sailing, like plumbing, is full of compromises. A GNAV introduces compression loads through that strut and into mast/boom fittings, and it can influence how forces are fed into the mast (i.e., you’re pushing rather than pulling). That’s not automatically a problem—GNAV systems are widely sold and supported—but it does mean the boat needs to be designed (or sensibly modified) to take those loads. Older designs were engineered around the traditional vang geometry, and class rules or “if it isn’t broken…” conservatism can keep the old system in place.

Which is why the Dinghy Show pattern makes perfect sense: newer boats (or newer iterations of designs) are increasingly built with GNAV-friendly layouts, while older designs keep the kicker because it’s familiar, class-legal, easy to source, and already works. Plus, many of us have spent years perfecting the art of not sitting on the vang tackle—why give up that heritage now?

Bottom line: the move from vang to GNAV is mostly about space, movement, and modern ergonomics, with the same underlying purpose—controlling boom angle and mainsail twist—just achieved in a way that’s kinder to crews, knees, and frantic tacks. And if nothing else, it gives you one more sailing word to explain to unsuspecting family members: “No, it’s not a typo. Yes, it really is vang backwards.”

 

Competent Crew: what’s this logbook all about, then?

If you’ve booked (or won!) an RYA Competent Crew course and someone’s mentioned “the logbook”, don’t panic. It’s not a 400-page confession diary where you have to admit every time you tied a knot that immediately untied itself.

In RYA-land, the “logbook” most training centres mean is the RYA Yachtmaster Scheme Syllabus and Logbook (G158). It’s a combined booklet that (1) tells you what’s in the RYA cruising course pathway and (2) gives you pages to record your sea time, miles, night hours, passages, and keep your certificates together.

Why you’re given it on Competent Crew

Even though Competent Crew is a practical “learn to be useful on a yacht” course, it sits at the start of a pathway. Many schools include the G158 logbook in the course fee, because it becomes your “paper trail” from first crewing trip right through to bigger qualifications later on.

What you actually use it for (in plain English)

1) Proof of experience (without relying on your memory).
Charter companies, future instructors, and examiners like to see sea time written down. The logbook gives you a consistent format for recording it.

2) A running tally for future courses/exams.
When you later look at Day Skipper / Coastal Skipper / Yachtmaster requirements, you’ll already have your trips and miles in one place. The RYA explicitly points to G158 for exam requirements and details in the Yachtmaster scheme.

3) Certificates don’t vanish into “that drawer”.
There are sections specifically intended for storing course completion certificates alongside your logged experience.

What to write in it (so it’s actually useful)

On (or after) each meaningful bit of sailing, jot down:

• Date

• From–to (even if it’s “Marina → Bay → Marina”)

• Vessel name/type & length (roughly)

• Role (crew, watchkeeper, etc.)

• Hours / miles

• Night hours (if any)

• Conditions & notes (a line or two: “reefed early; MOB drill; cooked chilli in a bouncing galley”)

• Skipper/instructor signature when appropriate (especially on courses)

Don’t overthink the miles. Nobody expects laser-measured nautical perfection on a training week—just a sensible record.

Quick myth-busting

• “Is it compulsory?” Not always, but it’s very helpful if you plan to progress. (Also: it stops you guessing later.)

• “Do I need to fill it in every day?” Ideal, yes. Realistic? Do it while it’s fresh—end of day works well.

• “What if I already keep notes on my phone?” Great—transfer the key bits across. The logbook is the tidy “official-ish” version.

The real reason it matters (especially for your Croatia trip)

Competent Crew is busy: sail handling, helming, lines, safety, life onboard… and it all blurs into a happy, salty montage. The logbook is how you turn that montage into evidence and confidence—plus it’s oddly satisfying to look back and realise you’ve gone from “What’s a halyard?” to “I can rig a fender without injuring anyone.”

 

From Dinghy Levels 1 & 2 to Yacht Competent Crew in Croatia

(or: how I discovered yachts have more rope than sense, and Croatia has more sunshine than my entire British childhood)

Having survived RYA Dinghy Sailing Levels 1 & 2, I now find myself preparing for RYA Competent Crew on a yacht in Croatia. This is the point where a sensible person would say, “Lovely, I can sail a dinghy now,” and go and have a cup of tea. Instead, I’m upgrading to a boat that weighs roughly the same as a small housing estate and comes with a kitchen. A kitchen. On a boat. Clearly this is either progress or a cry for help.

The good news is that dinghy training is a brilliant head start. You already understand the big ideas: wind awareness, points of sail, how sails actually drive the boat, and why the phrase “it’ll be fine” is usually followed by splashing noises. You know what a tack and a gybe are, you’ve probably practised them with the elegance of a folding deckchair in a breeze, and you’ve learnt that sailing is basically physics with occasional shouting.

The difference with a yacht is that everything is bigger, heavier, and more polite — right up until it isn’t. On a dinghy you feel everything instantly: a puff hits, the boat heels, you move, job done. On a yacht there’s a pause while the boat considers your suggestion, consults its committee, and then very slowly agrees to turn—just as you’ve started thinking you’ve broken it. Also, there are winches. Winches are wonderful devices designed to multiply your strength and your capacity for getting a line jammed at exactly the worst moment.

So where do you start preparing for Competent Crew? First: deck safety and habits. Croatia will be warm, sunny and gorgeous… which is precisely when people get casual. The golden rules still apply: one hand for the boat, keep lines tidy, keep fingers away from anything that bites (cleats, winches, blocks), and assume the boat will move at the worst possible moment. Practise moving around while staying braced, and get comfortable with the idea that “tidy” on a yacht isn’t neatness — it’s survival.

Next: terminology and roles, because yachts have more zones than an airport. Bow, stern, port, starboard — you know. Add in the yachty bits: cockpit, companionway, guardrails, coachroof, shrouds, spreaders. And learn the basics of what a crew member actually does: preparing fenders and warps, handling lines when coming alongside, listening properly during manoeuvres, and being the calm person who says useful things like “we’re drifting sideways” rather than unhelpful things like “ooh look, dolphins!”

Then: knots and line handling — the quickest way to look competent without actually being competent (a vital life skill). If you can confidently tie a bowline, clove hitch, round turn and two half hitches, and a figure-of-eight stopper, you’ll be useful from day one. On yachts, lines are thicker, stiffer, and occasionally behave like irritated pythons. Practise tying knots with cold hands, or at least while someone asks you questions and you pretend it’s fine.

After that, give yourself a gentle intro to winches and sail handling. Dinghies teach you trimming by feel; yachts add systems: halyards, sheets, travellers, reefing lines, and winches that make you feel powerful until you accidentally wind the wrong way and create a knot that requires a priest. Learn the basic flow: hoist, trim, ease, reef early, and understand the core safety rule: never step in a bight of rope unless you enjoy interpretive dance with ankle injuries.

Finally, because it’s Croatia, you’ll likely do plenty of med mooring (stern-to with a lazy line), which is a fabulous mix of sailing skill, boat handling, and reverse parking in front of an audience. Your prep here is mostly mental: keep calm, follow the plan, get fenders ready, know which line is which, and remember that shouting “we’re fine!” does not make you fine. It just makes you louder.

The aim of Competent Crew isn’t to turn you into skipper overnight. It’s to make you safe, useful, and confident — able to handle sails and lines, move around sensibly, help with berthing, and understand what’s going on without having to be translated from “yacht speak” into “normal human”. And if, by the end, you can do all that while also enjoying Croatia’s sunshine without turning the cockpit into a spaghetti incident… that’s not just competence. That’s victory.

---

Quick prep checklist (Croatia edition)

Know / practise

• Points of sail, tacking/gybing flow (you’ve got this from dinghies)

• Core knots: bowline, clove hitch, round turn + two half hitches, figure-of-eight

• Basic deck safety: one hand for the boat, tidy lines, no feet in loops

• Winch basics: wrap direction, tailing, easing under control, no “death grip”

• Berthing basics: fenders/warps ready, listen to the plan, slow is smooth

Pack

• Sailing gloves (sun + rope burn is a combo nobody wants)

• Deck shoes with good grip

• Sun protection: hat, sunglasses with retainer, high SPF, lip balm

• Light waterproof (because boats enjoy irony)

• Refillable water bottle