pmr sailing: September 2025

Wednesday, 10 September 2025

Mooring Without Mayhem – A Beginner’s Guide to Stopping the Boat

Because boats don’t have brakes, and shouting “STOP!” rarely works

One of the first things every beginner sailor (or powerboater) realises — usually in a moment of mild panic — is that boats don’t have brakes. There is no handy pedal to press. No emergency stop. Just wind, water, and momentum. And that jetty? It’s getting closer.

So how exactly do you stop a boat?
Carefully. Calmly. And ideally, without taking out the mooring post.

Here’s your guide to mooring without mayhem — or at least, mooring with style and a story you’ll want to tell.

🧭 The Golden Rule: Plan Your Stop Before You Get There

Unlike a car, you can't slam on the brakes. Boats slow down slowly — or not at all, if you're heading downwind or with the stream. So mooring starts long before you reach the dock.

You need to:

Pick your angle of approach
Reduce your speed early
Communicate with your crew (even if your crew is just nervously holding a rope)

⛵ Sailboat Mooring 101

If you're under sail:

Approach slowly in a beam reach or close reach
Head into the wind to slow the boat
Let the sails luff (flap) as you get close
You’ll coast gently towards the pontoon — like a swan, if you do it right. Or like a shopping trolley, if not.

💡 Pro tip: You can always abort and go round again. Mooring is not a one-shot deal.

⚓ Powerboat Mooring 101

Powerboats give you more control — and more responsibility.

The steps:

Approach at a shallow angle (around 45°) to the dock
Shift into neutral early and coast
Use short bursts of power in forward or reverse if needed
Always be ready to go astern (reverse) if things get exciting
As you get close, turn to parallel the dock, and let the crew step off with a rope

💡 Steer, then gear. Always point the bow where you want to go before applying power.

🛟 Mooring Manners & Safety

Never jump from a moving boat. Step off when it's safe.
Fenders out early — docks are hard, boats are squishy
Ropes ready before you arrive
Agree a plan with your crew — confusion leads to collisions
Don’t forget to thank the person who caught your bow line. Especially if you were aiming for the next pontoon over.

🤦‍♂️ Our First Attempts

We've hit the dock sideways, reversed into reeds, and once managed to tie up to a mooring buoy… only to realise it wasn’t attached to anything.
We’ve learned that:

Slower is better
Neutral is your friend
And dignity is optional, but nice to have

Final Thought

Stopping a boat isn’t about braking — it’s about planning, positioning, and patience. Whether under sail or power, a good mooring feels smooth, silent, and a little bit smug.

And remember: everyone’s first mooring is chaos. It’s the second try that counts.

Tuesday, 9 September 2025

The Language of Sailing – Talk Like a Skipper

Because shouting “pull that rope!” isn’t nearly nautical enough

When you first step into a sailing club, you quickly realise something odd: no one speaks English anymore. Suddenly, ropes are lines, left is port, and the front of the boat is forwards — unless it's called the bow, which it is.

Sailing has its own vocabulary — and if you want to crew, helm, or even just sound like you belong within 100 metres of a dinghy, you’ve got to learn the lingo.

But don’t worry — we’ve got you covered.

🗺️ Why Sailing Has Its Own Language

Because boats are old. And complicated. And full of parts that need names so people know what to pull, where to sit, and when to duck.

The language of sailing:

Helps you communicate clearly under pressure
Avoids confusion (mostly)
Makes you sound wildly impressive to your non-sailing friends

⚓ Some Favourites from the Riverbank

Tack – a turn through the wind (also the side your sail is on… also a metal fitting… don’t worry about it)
Gybe – the slightly scarier version of a tack
Sheet – the rope (sorry, line) that controls a sail
Boom – the thing that will try to hit you if you’re not paying attention
Goosewinging – not illegal, just unsightly
Painter – not an artist, but the rope that ties the bow to the dock
Outhaul, kicker, Cunningham – mysterious devices designed to test your memory mid-race

💡 Top Tip

If you forget a term, just say “line” and point confidently. 50% chance you’re right. 100% chance someone will correct you with a smile. Maybe.

🧭 Want to Learn the Proper Terms?

We've put together a full Glossary of 75 Sailing Terms You Need to Know, perfect for beginners, instructors, and anyone who’s ever accidentally called the mainsheet a “ropey thing”.

https://pmrsailing.uk/sailing-lessons/Sailing-Terms.html

It's full of simple explanations, diagrams, and the occasional mild sarcasm. Because learning sailing should be fun, not frightening.

Final Thought

Talking like a skipper isn’t about being fancy. It’s about making sure that when someone yells “tack!”, you duck in the right direction.

And yes — shouting “Ready about!” does make you feel like you're starring in your own nautical adventure.

Monday, 8 September 2025

Merlin Open 2025 – Spinnakers, S-Curves, and Surprises

Fear, skill, and a very well-organised Safety Team

The Merlin Rocket Open 2025 at Upper Thames Sailing Club brought together nine boats on Saturday — a smaller turnout than previous years, but those who showed up were certainly committed. And brave. Very brave.

The south-westerly wind was blowing with enthusiasm, so the course team set an upstream start with a lovely S-shaped route — perfect for squeezing in plenty of tacks and gybes, and even more opportunities to raise eyebrows and heart rates.

⛵ The Course: S is for Spinnaker... and Slight Panic

With the wind direction as it was, the upstream leg allowed the sailors to deploy their spinnakers — and as they emerged from behind the tree line, the boats surged forward, catching more than just the wind. Let’s just say a few faces on the riverbank went a little pale.

Spinnakers and gusts are a spicy combination. But remarkably, despite the pressure, only one boat capsized all day — and that was an open class boat, not one of the Merlins. A testament to the skill and control of the sailors competing.

🚤 Behind the Scenes: Safety First, Then Spreadsheets

While the Merlin crews focused on racing, I was behind the scenes — organising the safety boats, launching and recovering equipment, and running scoring from the race box.

Both my sons were out on the water crewing safety boats
We removed all the goose netting early on (they do love a tangled prop)
And once the final whistle blew, we packed everything away again — leaving the sailors free to concentrate on racing, debriefing, and perhaps a pint

🌬️ Races and Results

1 race in the morning to warm everyone up
Followed by 2 afternoon races as the wind picked up
Plenty of spinnaker action, tight racing, and surprisingly few dramas (if you don’t count the moment someone nearly gybed into the committee boat)

The reduced fleet meant less crowding and more space to experiment with lines — but also meant that every tactical mistake counted. No hiding at the back of the fleet this time!

Final Thoughts

While smaller in numbers, the Merlin Open 2025 delivered big wind, big sails, and big effort from everyone — on and off the water. With skilled helms, gusty conditions, and just one capsize, it was a day to be proud of.

And as ever, huge thanks to the volunteers, safety boat teams, and race officers who make it all happen — often soaked, sunburned, or stuck holding a buoy rope in their teeth.

Roll on the next one!

Sunday, 7 September 2025

Capsize Drill – Do It Dry (If You Can)

Because getting soaked should be a choice, not a surprise

Let’s get one thing clear: if you sail dinghies, you will capsize. It’s not a matter of if — it’s a matter of when (and how dramatically). But if you're smart, prepared, and a little bit lucky, your first capsize won't involve a frantic scramble, a missing tiller, or an audience.

Welcome to the wonderful world of the capsize drill — and the golden rule we’ve learned:

Practice it dry, before it happens wet.

🧭 What is a Capsize Drill?

A capsize drill is a controlled rehearsal of what to do when your dinghy tips over. It teaches you:

How to fall safely
What to grab (and what not to)
How to right the boat
How to re-board without looking like a flailing seal

Ideally, you do this in warm weather, with safety boats nearby, and an instructor who promises not to laugh (too much).

☀️ Why Do It “Dry”?

We don’t mean without water — that would be magic. We mean:

Practice in gentle, controlled conditions
With an instructor or coach watching
With no race pressure, spectators, or crosswinds
With a boat that’s been set up for the drill (e.g., centreboard down, sails depowered)

When you’re ready, you deliberately capsize the boat — and go through the steps. It’s not a surprise. No screaming. No panicked flailing. Just calm, soggy learning.

It’s the best kind of rehearsal: the one where you can fail safely.

⛵ Our First Dry Capsize (and What We Learned)

We were told, “Right, now tip it over.”

It felt wrong — like we were breaking the boat on purpose. But in we went, over the side, into the river. Then we:

Checked our heads — no boom bonks ✔️
Found the centreboard and climbed on ✔️
Leaned back and watched the boat slowly right itself ✔️
Got back in (eventually) ✔️

A bit of effort, a lot of splashing, and one pair of floating sunglasses later — we’d done it.

And here’s the thing: once you’ve done it on purpose, it’s far less scary by accident.

🔄 Capsize Checklist

✅ Centreboard down before launch
✅ Painter not tangled
✅ Sails depowered for drill
✅ Crew briefed (no surprise pushes!)
✅ Safety boat nearby
✅ Warm-ish water if possible (and a towel waiting)

🤿 Pro Tip: Clothing Counts

Wetsuit or drysuit? Buoyancy aid or life jacket?
Capsizing is when you find out whether your gear actually works. Dry drills are a great time to test what you’re wearing — before you do it in 8°C water during a November race.

🏁 Final Thought

Capsizing is part of the fun — once you know what to do. And while you can’t always stay dry, you can make sure your first capsize doesn’t end with tears, lost shoes, or a call for the safety boat.

So tip it. Flip it. Laugh. Then do it again.
Next time the boat goes over — you’ll be ready.

Saturday, 6 September 2025

Getting the Confidence to Take the Helm

Because eventually, someone has to steer... and it might as well be you

There’s a moment in every beginner’s sailing journey when someone hands you the tiller and says, “Your turn.”

Cue mild panic.

Because while crewing is great fun — pulling ropes, ducking under the boom, shouting “Starboard!” with just enough certainty — taking the helm feels like suddenly becoming the captain of HMS Titanic. Only smaller. And wetter.

But here’s the truth: you can do it. And it’s not nearly as scary as it first seems.

⛵ Why Taking the Helm Feels Intimidating

You're now in charge of the boat's direction
Everyone can see what you’re doing
You worry about crashing, capsizing, or just looking foolish
The wind seems to change direction only when you touch the tiller

But here’s what actually happens:

You start slowly. You make a few mistakes. You oversteer. You understeer. You gybe when you meant to tack. The boat wobbles, your crew yelps, and somehow you’re now heading for a goose.

And then… it gets better.

🎯 Tips for Building Helm Confidence

1. Start in Light Winds

Pick a calm day. The boat moves slowly, giving you time to think, adjust, and correct. You’ll still feel everything the boat does — just with fewer dramas.

2. Sail with Someone You Trust

A patient instructor or crewmate can talk you through what to do and help you stay calm. Bonus points if they bring snacks.

3. Learn One Thing at a Time

Don’t worry about perfect sail trim, spotting gusts, and tacking like an Olympian all at once. Focus on keeping a straight course. Then practice tacking. Then gybing. One skill at a time.

4. Talk Out Loud

It may feel silly, but saying things like “I’m going to bear away now” helps you process your decisions — and keeps your crew in the loop.

5. Make Mistakes. Then Laugh.

Everyone messes up. The best sailors just do it more gracefully. Or, at least, with better waterproofs.

🚤 What Taking the Helm Teaches You

How to feel the boat respond to your input
How wind, sail, and rudder all work together
That you’re more capable than you think
That even if you get it wrong, there’s usually a safety boat nearby (we know—we’ve been in it)

🧭 Our First Helm Stories

We’ve all had that moment — frozen at the tiller, convinced we’re about to take out the committee boat. One of us once tacked straight into a marina wall. Another took five minutes to realise we were sailing in a circle.

And now? We take turns at the helm, tackle the start line, race around buoys, and — on a good day — even stay dry.

Final Thought

Taking the helm is less about technical skill and more about mindset. You don’t need to be perfect — you just need to try. Every time you do, you learn a bit more. And suddenly, you realise:

You’re not just in the boat. You’re sailing it.

Friday, 5 September 2025

The Beauty of the Thames – Our Favourite Reaches: Cookham to Marlow

Where every tack brings a new view

If there’s a stretch of river that makes us fall in love with sailing all over again, it’s the reach from Cookham to Marlow.

Nestled in the heart of the Thames Valley, this section is a glorious blend of countryside calm and riverside grandeur. It offers open water, steady breezes, dramatic backdrops, and just enough boat traffic to keep things interesting — but not terrifying.

🌿 Countryside on One Side, Mansions on the Other

Sailing upstream from Cookham, the scenery changes with every bend. To starboard, you might spot a riverside lawn that’s been freshly striped by a gardener with a ride-on mower worth more than our boat. But look to port, and it’s wide open land, willow trees dipping into the water, and Cock Marsh stretching away to Winter Hill beyond.

It’s a strange but beautiful contrast:

One side whispers, “Countryside escape…”
The other side says, “Don’t scuff the paintwork with your boom!”

🏠 The Houses You Can’t Afford (But Can Sail Past)

This reach is famed for its eye-watering real estate. Think private jetties, boathouses, sunken gardens, and the occasional riverside pool. We’ve lost count of how many times we’ve looked up mid-tack and thought: "That one’s nice. I’ll take it. Unless it has a thatched roof — too flammable."

Sometimes you get a wave from someone on their patio. Sometimes it’s a Labrador.

Either way, you feel welcome.

⛵ Why We Love This Reach for Sailing

Scenic variety – woodland, fields, hills, houses, bridges, and even the odd wedding
Usually good wind – enough gaps in the trees to keep the sails filled
Wildlife spotting – swans, geese, red kites, and the occasional narrowboat crew singing ABBA
Photogenic moments – every race photo looks like it belongs in a Visit Britain brochure

🧭 Navigational Notes (Especially for First-Timers)

The river is wide enough for tacking — but don’t cut too close to moored boats
Keep an eye out for Marlow’s rowing squads — they’re fast, silent, and everywhere
In high summer, paddleboarders appear like mushrooms — often oblivious to right-of-way rules
Don’t be lulled by the view — the current can get surprisingly strong in places

Final Thought

There are faster reaches. Trickier ones. Busier ones.
But for sheer Thames beauty and sailboat serenity, Cookham to Marlow is hard to beat.

You can sail past Cock Marsh one moment, nod at Winter Hill the next, and dream of affording that house with the boat garage and private slipway — all while trimming your jib and dodging ducks.

It’s our kind of perfect.

Tuesday, 2 September 2025

The Whaly as Safety Boat – What We’ve Learned

Or: How Not to Run Over a Capsized Dinghy

We’ve now used the Whaly 455R electric boat for dozens of safety shifts at the sailing club, often in the thick of junior races, training courses, and midweek chaos we fondly call “Wednesdays on the Water.” From calm afternoons to gusty dramas, the Whaly has become a familiar sight — and after all this time, we’ve learned a lot.

Here’s what worked, what didn’t, and what we’d do differently (other than not forget the paddle).

🔌 Electric Power – Surprisingly Practical

Our Whaly is powered by a 3kW E-Propulsion outboard with a 30kg battery, charged at home via solar. It’s almost silent, which makes it great for filming and sneaking up on dinghies in trouble — though it does mean you sometimes surprise sailors who don’t hear you coming. (“Oh! Where did you come from?”)

What we’ve learned:

You need to check the battery level before launch. The range is sufficient for a day on the water or two if a day is not exciting. The battery is not used if you are not moving.
Top speed is enough to reach a capsized boat quickly — but not to chase a Laser with a grudge.
It turns sharply at low speeds with the right trim and balance. Steer, then gear.

🧡 Space for People, Gear, and Wet Sailors

The Whaly’s wide hull and open deck mean there’s plenty of room for:

Rescue gear
Buoys and anchors
Four soggy Cadets and their dripping sails
One small dog (don’t ask)

Boarding from the water is easy — we’ve seen several successful rescues and a few unscheduled entries by crew members with uncooperative feet. The Whaly floats very high, so you’ll often need to help people up — or have a sturdy rope step tied to the side.

🚤 Handling – Slow and Steady Wins the Rescue

Unlike the petrol Dory, the Whaly doesn’t plane. But for safety work, that’s not a problem. The key is precise control. On a busy race day:

We hover just behind the fleet
Approach capsized boats on the leeward side
Cut power and coast gently in
Always stop well clear, then drift into position

One memorable moment: helping a sailor who was still clinging to the wrong end of their Topper. A gentle nudge from the Whaly, a rope thrown, and a well-timed lean saved the day — and avoided the usual dunking.

🎥 Camera Boat Mode – Bonus Feature

Thanks to its silent motor and open layout, the Whaly doubles beautifully as a camera boat for our sailing films. Mounting a tripod, gimbal, or even a sound recordist is simple — just bring extra battery packs and pray no one gybes onto your lens.

✅ Final Tips for Whaly Safety Use:

Use neutral gear to coast in
Approach slowly from the right angle
Keep your tow ropes, paddles, and bailers ready. Especially the bailers for the Merlins
Always check the prop, especially in weedy water
Practice manoeuvres in calm weather — don’t wait for the chaos

The Whaly might not be the fastest, flashiest, or fiercest safety boat out there — but it’s stable, reliable, silent, and forgiving. And frankly, so are we.

Most days.

Monday, 1 September 2025

Double Digit Wind Speeds

Double-Digit Winds and the Dignity of Reefing

(Or: How we raced in 22 knots and still didn’t swim)

We knew it was going to be breezy when we checked the forecast and it said "wind gusting to 22 knots" — and that was before we’d even rigged the boat.

So we did the sensible thing.
We reefed.

Well, we reefed the mainsail, adjusted the jib, tensioned everything that looked even slightly slack, and double-checked the kicker. Then off we went for the first race of the day, already congratulating ourselves on surviving the launch with dry feet and upright dignity.

💨 The Start Line: Windy. Very Windy.

The horn sounded. We crossed the line like pros.
For the first 20 seconds, it was glorious — we even overtook someone.

But as with all good things, it didn’t last.

We soon discovered what it means to sail a river course in strong wind, next to a tree line, up a hill, around a bend, and possibly through some kind of invisible wind vortex that delights in humiliating beginners.

🌲 Tree Line Trickery

Every time we moved from one tree gap to the next, the wind either:
a) dropped dead
b) slapped us sideways
c) changed direction by 45 degrees, just for fun

At one point, we were on a beam reach. Then, with no warning, we were close hauled. And then a gust hit us on the stern and tried to gybe the boat for us. We declined.

🌀 Wind Roulette: Hill + River Bend

Halfway up the course, the river curved left, the bank rose right, and the wind… spiralled.
We adjusted sails constantly. Sheeted in. Let out. Sat on the gunwale. Sat in. Told each other it was fine. It wasn't.

The faster boats, unencumbered by our nervous reefing and occasional over-trimming, lapped us. Politely, of course. A wave, a grin, a flash of spinnaker, and they were gone.