A Cold Start to the 2026 Sailing Season

Some things change… and some things most definitely don’t.

The 2026 sailing season began in the sort of cold that makes you question your life choices. Gloves on. Woolly hat firmly pulled down. That lovely Thames breeze cutting straight through every layer you optimistically thought would be enough.

And yet—this year we had technology on our side.

A shiny new electronic burgee. Apparent wind speed. Wind direction. Proper data. The sort of thing that should turn you into a tactical genius.

It didn’t.

---

The Reality Check

We started mid-fleet in the last two races. In the first race we started last and stayed there.

Mid fleet - a promising start, you might think.

By the end of the first beat? Reality had arrived. Quickly.

By the first mark, the race leader had not only reached it… he’d completed an entire lap and was coming back to overtake us. At a rough estimate, he was travelling at about three times our speed—which is impressive, given we were technically also sailing.

---

Cold, Slow… and Still Going

Three races. Bitterly cold. Fingers slowly losing function despite gloves.

We battled on.

The rest of the fleet? They completed three laps.

We completed… two.

And to their credit, every other crew waited patiently for us to finish before the next race could begin. There’s something wonderfully British about that—quiet endurance mixed with mild sympathy.

As soon as we crossed the line, we simply rounded the mark and went straight into the next race.

No rest. No reflection. Just more “opportunity”.

---

Consistency Is Key (Apparently)

Results for the day:

• Race 1: Last
• Race 2: Last
• Race 3: Last

Three out of three.

Now that is consistency.

We did, however, manage one small victory—crossing the line just ahead of another boat in one race. A fleeting moment of glory, quickly overshadowed by being… a lap behind.

---

Technology vs Reality

So, did the electronic burgee help?

In theory—yes.
In practice—absolutely not.

It turns out that knowing the wind direction and speed is one thing…

Actually doing something useful with that information is quite another.

---

Will the New Handicap System Save Us?

There’s talk of a new handicap system this season.

Will it help us climb the rankings?

I admire the optimism.

But unless it factors in:

• Cold fingers
• Slow tacking
• Occasional confusion
• Mooring in the middle of the race (we were blown onto the bank)
• And a slight tendency to sail in the wrong place

…I suspect the answer is no.

---

Final Thoughts

A freezing start.
Three races.
Three last places.
One very clever piece of kit… doing absolutely nothing to improve our position.

And yet…

We’re back on the water.
Still learning.
Still laughing.

And already looking forward to the next race—where, with a bit of luck…

…we might only be second last.

 Man Overboard… and the Safety Boat is Nowhere Near

There’s a moment every sailor hopes never comes… but absolutely must be prepared for.

Someone is in the water.
The safety boat is too far away.
And suddenly—it’s down to you.

On a river like the Thames, or even coastal waters, this is not theory. It’s real. It happens quickly, and it demands calm, simple actions—not panic and not over-complication.

---

🚨 First Things First – Keep Them in Sight

Before you even think about manoeuvring:

• Shout “Man Overboard!” (loud enough for everyone to hear)
• Point continuously at the person (one crew member dedicated to this)
• Throw something that floats (buoyancy aid, cushion, rope, anything)

It’s amazing how quickly someone disappears from view—even on a calm day.

---

⛵ Stop the Boat… Then Think

Your instinct might be to rush straight back. That’s often the wrong move.

Instead:

• Ease sheets immediately
• Turn into the wind (head to wind) to slow or stop
• If confident: heave-to to create a stable platform

A moving boat is much harder to control near someone in the water—and much more dangerous.

---

🔄 The Simple Recovery Approach (No Fancy Sailing Required)

Forget textbook racing manoeuvres. This is not the time.

The aim is simple:

👉 Get back to them slowly, under control, and from downwind if possible

Why downwind?

• You drift towards them, not away
• You avoid accidentally sailing over them
• The boat naturally slows

A gentle approach is far safer than a fast, “perfect” one.

---

🛟 Getting Them Back On Board

This is the bit people underestimate.

Even a fit adult becomes very heavy in the water.

Options:

• Use a rope loop or sheet as a step
• Bring them to the side of the boat (not the stern in dinghies)
• Get crew weight low and stable
• Talk to them calmly—panic makes everything harder

If they can’t get in:

👉 Stay with them and keep them afloat
👉 Wait for the safety boat while maintaining control

---

⚠️ What Not To Do

• ❌ Don’t approach at speed
• ❌ Don’t lose sight of them
• ❌ Don’t over-sheet and power up
• ❌ Don’t assume you can lift them easily

This is one of those times where slow is fast.

---

🧠 Practice Before You Need It

Like capsizing (which I’ve written about before), this is something you should practise:

• With a buoy or fender as a “casualty”
• With a safety boat nearby initially
• With different wind conditions

Because when it happens for real… you won’t have time to think it through.

---

😄 Final Thought (With a Slightly Nervous Smile)

When I first practised this, I thought:

“Simple—sail back, pick them up, job done.”

Reality?

More like:

“Where did they go? Why is the boat still moving? Why does everything feel harder?!”

And that’s exactly why we practise.

Setting an Anchor

 

Setting an Anchor

There is something wonderfully confident about dropping an anchor. It makes you feel like a proper sailor. One minute you are moving about with all the elegance of a floating shopping trolley, and the next you are apparently “securely anchored”. That is, of course, assuming you have done it properly and have not simply donated expensive metalwork to the seabed.

Setting an anchor is not just a matter of lobbing it over the bow and hoping for the best. Like many things in boating, it starts with a bit of thought. You need to choose a suitable spot, check the depth, allow for swinging room, and think about the wind and tide. On a crowded anchorage, this becomes especially important. There is little glory in waking up to discover you have gently drifted into somebody else’s pride and joy while still insisting your anchor is “probably fine”.

The basic idea is simple enough. Head slowly into the wind, or tide if that is stronger, and stop the boat where you want the anchor to lie. Lower the anchor under control rather than throwing it. Once it reaches the bottom, let out the rode steadily as the boat drifts back. This is where patience pays off. An anchor needs the right angle of pull to dig in properly. If you are too mean with the line, it may just skip along the bottom like it is late for the last bus home.

The amount of rope or chain you let out matters a great deal. In calm conditions you may get away with less, but in stronger winds or rougher water you need more scope. More scope gives a flatter pull and helps the anchor bite into the seabed. Chain helps too, both by adding weight and by keeping that low angle of pull. This is one of those lovely nautical truths where gravity quietly does a lot of the hard work, provided you do not rush the process.

Once you think the anchor is set, it is worth checking. Pick landmarks ashore and see whether you are staying put relative to them. If you have modern electronics, use them, but your eyes are still very useful and do not need charging. A gentle reverse to test the set can also help confirm things. It is far better to discover the anchor is not holding while you are still paying attention than later, when you are halfway through making tea.

Recovering the anchor is usually less dramatic, though it can occasionally feel as if you have hooked the entire county of Hampshire. Bring the boat slowly up towards the anchor, taking in the rode as you go. Once directly above it, the anchor should break out more easily. Then comes the messy bit: mud, weed, and assorted underwater treasures. Somehow the anchor always seems determined to bring half the seabed back on board as evidence of where it has been.

Anchoring is one of those skills that looks easy from a distance but improves enormously with practice. Done well, it gives you security, freedom, and the chance to stop for lunch in a quiet spot. Done badly, it gives you stress, embarrassment, and a very practical lesson in why preparation matters. Like so much in sailing and powerboating, the trick is not brute force. It is choosing the right place, taking your time, and doing the simple things properly.

On the water, that usually makes all the difference.

 

The 5-Minute Boat Check That Saves Your Sailing Day

There’s a special kind of frustration in sailing…
You finally get on the water, the wind is just right, everything looks perfect — and then something small fails.

Not the mast. Not the sails.
No… something far more annoying.

A worn-out sheet.

It’s Always the Little Things

In my experience on the River Thames, it’s rarely the big dramatic failures that stop your sailing day — it’s the tiny, overlooked bits:

• Sheets starting to fray
• Knots that have tightened into something resembling modern art
• Shackles that are “just about OK”
• Cleats that are “probably fine”

All things that worked last time… until they don’t.

The 5-Minute Rule

Before launching, I’ve started following a simple rule:

Spend 5 minutes checking the boat — every time.

Look at:

• Sheets – any fraying? stiff patches?
• Halyards – running freely or starting to snag?
• Knots – still correct, or “creative reinterpretations”?
• Fittings – anything loose or suspicious?
• Rudder & centreboard – moving smoothly?

It’s not a full refit… just a quick sanity check.

Why It Matters (Especially on a River)

On a river like the Thames, things happen quickly:

• Wind shifts
• Strong current
• Tight manoeuvres

If something fails, you don’t drift gently into open water…
You drift into a bank, a buoy, or someone else’s pride and joy.

My Rule of Sailing

“If it looks slightly worn on land… it will definitely fail on the water.”

And usually at the most inconvenient moment — like mid-tack, mid-race, or just as someone is watching.

Final Thought

A well-maintained boat isn’t just about performance — it’s about confidence.

When you know everything is working as it should, you sail better, react faster, and enjoy it more.

And all it takes… is five minutes.

 

Can You Sail in Less Than 5 mph Wind on the Thames… Against a Strong Current?

Picture the scene.
The river is moving nicely downstream, the trees are barely rustling, and your burgee (if you remembered to look at it!) is hanging like a wet sock.

You launch anyway… because, well, it looks like a sailing day.

---

🚤 When the River Wins (and the Wind Doesn’t Show Up)

On the River Thames, current can easily be 2–3 mph or more depending on conditions.
If your wind speed is under 5 mph, you’re already on the edge.

Now here’s the key point:

👉 If your boat speed through the water is less than the river current, you are going backwards relative to the bank.

You might have beautifully trimmed sails… perfect telltales… textbook technique…

…and still be drifting past the clubhouse in reverse.

---

⛵ Yes… Skilled Sailors Can Still Move the Boat

This is where experience comes in.

Very skilled sailors can:

• Use every whisper of wind
• Keep the boat perfectly balanced
• Sail ultra-efficient angles (often not directly upstream)
• Exploit tiny gusts and shifts
• Even use subtle techniques like body movement to maintain flow over sails

You’ll see them creeping forward when everyone else is parked.

It’s quite something to watch.

---

🤔 But… Is It Really Sailing?

Here’s the slightly controversial bit.

If:

• The sails are barely filled
• Progress comes in short bursts
• And the river current is doing most of the “movement”

…then are you really sailing?

Or are you:

• Drifting with style?
• Waiting for wind with ambition?
• Or quietly wishing for a tow from the safety boat?

---

⚖️ The Honest Answer

✔ Yes — it is sailing
…but it’s a very different kind of sailing.

It becomes:

• A test of patience
• A lesson in boat balance and efficiency
• A masterclass in reading micro-weather

And, if we’re honest…

❌ Not always the most exciting afternoon on the water.

---

😄 The PMR Sailing Reality

On days like this, I’ve discovered three types of sailor:

1. The Optimist – “There’s a breeze coming… any minute now…”
2. The Technician – adjusting sails for the 47th time
3. The Realist – already back at the clubhouse, sitting at the bar.

I’ll let you guess which one I’m becoming…

 

Boat covers cost a fortune – but with some basic skills you can make your own

Boat covers are one of those sailing purchases that make perfect sense right up until you ask for a price. At that point, you stop thinking about canvas and fittings and start wondering whether the cover is being hand-stitched by master craftsmen using thread spun from unicorn hair. For a simple dinghy or small cruiser, a professionally made cover can cost a small fortune. Very good, yes. Necessary, often yes. Cheap, absolutely not.

The trouble is that a decent boat cover really matters. Leave a boat uncovered and it quickly fills with rainwater, leaves, spiders, mysterious green slime and enough dirt to start a small allotment. Covers protect varnish, paintwork, ropes, sails and fittings, and they save a lot of cleaning time. On a trailer sailor or dinghy, they also stop the boat looking as if it has been abandoned in a hedge for three winters. So yes, a cover is important — but that does not always mean you have to buy one ready-made.

If you have a few practical skills, a sewing machine that can cope with heavier fabric, and more patience than I usually manage, making your own boat cover is perfectly possible. The trick is to think of it as a series of small jobs rather than one giant one. First, work out exactly what sort of cover you need. Is it a flat boom-up cover, a trailing cover, an over-boom tent style cover, or just something to protect a small area? Then measure everything very carefully. And then measure it again, because fabric is expensive and “that looks about right” is not a recognised unit in marine engineering.

The choice of material matters. Proper marine canvas or polyester cover cloth is designed to be waterproof, UV resistant and tough enough for life outdoors. Cheap tarpaulin may look tempting, but it often flaps itself to bits, traps water in all the wrong places, and rarely fits well. You will also need decent thread, webbing, eyelets or fastening points, and perhaps some reinforcing patches where the cover rubs against corners, fittings or the mast. In other words, the savings come from your labour, not from using rubbish materials.

The real secret to a good homemade cover is shape. A cover must shed water, not collect it. That means it needs some height in the middle or support from a boom, ridge pole or hoops. If it sags, you will create a private swimming pool for passing ducks. Good tensioning points are also essential so the cover stays put in a blow. That usually means straps, shock cord, ties, buckles or clips placed sensibly around the hull. A badly secured cover can chafe itself, chafe the boat, and in a strong wind may head off down the boat park before you do.

Making your own cover will not be quicker than buying one, and your first attempt may not look like something from a luxury yacht catalogue. But it can save a lot of money, teach useful skills, and give you something that fits your boat and your needs. More importantly, when someone admires it in the dinghy park, you can casually say, “Oh that? I made it.” That is a very satisfying moment indeed — even if you do not mention the three wrong cuts, four muttered oaths and one evening spent unpicking a seam that somehow ended up inside out.

 

Holiday Planning Starts with the Camera – GoPro, 360 or DSLR?

Before you even think about packing your sailing gloves or arguing over who forgot the sunscreen, there’s one crucial question to answer:

What camera are you taking on the boat?

Because trust me—on the water, you don’t get a second take.

---

GoPro – The “Set It and Forget It” Workhorse

If you want reliability, durability, and simplicity, the GoPro is hard to beat.

Why it works brilliantly on a boat:

• Waterproof (and properly waterproof—not “light drizzle” waterproof)
• Can be mounted anywhere: mast, boom, transom, even your head if you’re feeling adventurous
• Perfect for capturing the action without thinking about it

Downside:

• Limited creative control
• Footage can feel a bit “samey” after a while

Best for:
Capturing races, manoeuvres, and those “oops… we nearly capsized” moments.

---

360 Camera – Capture Everything (Even What You Missed)

This is where things get clever.

A 360 camera doesn’t just film—it records everything around it, meaning you can decide later what the viewer sees.

Why it’s becoming a favourite:

• Never miss the action (even behind you)
• Brilliant for storytelling and social media clips
• Great for showing the whole boat setup

Downside:

• Editing takes longer (you’ll spend hours “reframing” footage)
• Not quite as sharp as a DSLR

Best for:
Family sailing videos, training analysis, and immersive storytelling for your blog and YouTube.

---

DSLR / Mirrorless – The “Wow Factor”

If you want those stunning, magazine-quality shots, nothing beats a DSLR or mirrorless camera.

Why it’s worth taking:

• Incredible image quality
• Full creative control (depth of field, exposure, lenses)
• Perfect for blog headers, thumbnails, and prints

Downside:

• Water and expensive electronics are not natural friends
• Needs careful handling (and usually a dry bag… or two)

Best for:
Calm days, harbours, wildlife, sunsets—and when someone else is helming!

---

So… Which Should You Take?

Here’s the honest answer:

• Just want to record the trip? → GoPro
• Want engaging social media & YouTube content? → 360 camera
• Want stunning photography for your blog/business? → DSLR

My Real-World Answer (and probably yours too…)

Take two cameras:

• A GoPro or 360 camera mounted and running all day
• A DSLR/mirrorless safely stored for the right moments

That way you capture:

• The action ✅
• The story ✅
• The beauty ✅

Or just take all three and forget something else.

---

Final Thought

On a boat, conditions change fast—light, wind, spray, and your crew’s ability to sit still for more than 3 seconds.

The best camera isn’t always the most expensive…

👉 It’s the one that survives the day and actually captures the moment.