All Piss and Wind (28 page)

smoke:
vernacular term for letting a halyard run free. Largely confined to emergencies.

snatch block:
ingenious type of sheet block in which one side (the ‘cheek') is hinged so that a line can be made captive without the need for threading the end.

sole:
floor of the cabin, usually slippery or covered with sails.

sounding:
the depth of water as indicated on a chart.

spinnaker:
large, colourful sail flown from the masthead downwind to increase speed. Source of alternating misery and delight.

spreader:
also ‘cross-tree'. Strut protruding from the mast to help hold shrouds in position and transfer rigging loads.

square:
see
‘run'.

staysail:
small jib, usually set on an inner forestay closer to the mast.

stern:
rear end of a boat.

stew:
any meal served during a race containing meat, with a consistency anywhere between soup and bitumen.

stick:
the mast.

Stockholm Tar:
resinous extract of pine wood used to preserve hemp rope.

stringers:
narrow planks of wood fastened longitudinally along the inside skin of a hull to add strength.

swaging tool:
rigger's implement that looks like large bolt cutters but used to compress soft metal sleeves (the ‘swage') around wire rope to seize a loop.

tack/tacking:
(v)
the action of turning a yacht through the eye of the wind so that the sails settle on the opposite side and the boat can then commence sailing upwind on the new tack. Also
(n)
the forward lower corner of a sail that is secured to the deck or boom. And
(n)
a supply of preserved food kept on a yacht in case of emergency.

tailer:
person who rapidly hauls in the loose part of a sheet or halyard before the grinder takes the full load on a winch.

Tasman Seabird:
wholesome class of 37-foot sloop designed in the late 1950s by Alan Payne, sometimes rigged as a yawl.

tell tales:
short lengths of wool attached to sails or shrouds that indicate the direction and strength of airflow.

tether:
stout length of webbing with snap-hooks at each end used to attach crew to deck strong-points or jackstays during bad weather.

thermals:
special underwear worn under wet weather clothing designed to generate and preserve body heat. Don't leave home without them.

thwart:
a plank fitted transversely across the full width of a small boat or dinghy, often used as a seat.

tight:
sailing angle that takes the yacht very close to the wind.

tiller:
basic form of steering implement. The helmsman controls the rudder angle with a simple ‘tiller' lever.

timber hitch:
overhand knot, usually tied around the boom to secure a reaching line. The ‘tail' of the rope is wound around the loop many times to make it secure.

top/bottom (marks):
the ‘top' rounding mark is upwind, at the end of the ‘working' leg; the ‘bottom' mark is downwind, at the end of the ‘running' leg. All clear?

topping lift:
line similar to a halyard used to lift the spinnaker pole or boom.

topsides:
surface of the visible part of a yacht's hull above the water.

trapeze:
system used by many centreboard classes in which the crew suspend themselves in a harness at the end of a wire from the mast and can therefore stand out on the gunnels and use their bodyweight to help keep the boat upright.

traveller:
track running across the boat, often near the helming position. The lower block of the mainsheet tackle can be slid to any position along the traveller to control mainsail twist.

trick:
period any one crew-member spends steering the boat.

trim/trimmer:
person responsible for the fine adjustments to the sails.

truck:
fitting at the top of the mast.

trysail:
small loose-footed sail rigged in place of the mainsail in extreme weather.

Tupperware:
any mass-produced fibreglass yacht.

up/down:
yet more terms for a boat's heading relative to the wind direction. ‘Up' is towards the wind, ‘down' is away from it.

vang:
device between the mast base and the boom, often hydraulic, used to keep the end of the boom from kicking upwards while sailing with the wind behind.

VB cord:
light line used for lashing and sundry small jobs on a yacht. So called because it is the same type of line used to control venetian blinds, and is often sold as such.

VHF/HF radios:
all proper yachts have a VHF (Very High Frequency) radio which can be used for close-proximity and coastal communications. The VHF monitoring channel for emergencies is 16. Passage-making yachts competing in Category One and Two events must carry an HF radio, which can send and receive over much longer distances.

Victor Bravo:
sailing slang for Victoria Bitter (VB) beer. Derived from the international phonetic alphabet system (V for Victor, B for Bravo).

VJ:
‘Vaucluse Junior'. Delightful little sailing dinghy just 12 feet long designed in the 1930s for cheap and easy construction. If you can sail a VJ you can sail anything.

VMG:
‘Velocity Made Good'. When a boat is tacking into the wind its speed through the water may be 5 knots but the zig-zag course means it is not closing its target at that rate. The VMG is the calculated actual rate at which yacht is covering ground into the wind.

water ballast:
recently-fashionable system of pumping large volumes of water from tanks on one side of a yacht to the other during tacks to help keep it upright. Now largely replaced by canting keels.

waypoint:
fixed geographical landmark or nominated position used by the navigator to plot a course.

weather (rail):
high side of a heeled yacht (where the ‘weather' is coming from).

weather/lee helm:
few yachts retain a ‘neutral' helm, especially in strong wind. ‘Weather helm' is the resistance the helmsman can feel in the wheel or tiller because the boat wants to ‘round up' into the wind. ‘Lee helm' is the opposite.

wet locker:
dedicated hanging space on a boat where wet weather gear can be stored. The idea is for the water to drain off the clothing directly into the bilge. Few modern boats have an adequate locker.

windward:
where the wind is coming from. Sailing to ‘windward' is the hard work of tacking into the breeze. A ‘windward boat' is between the breeze and your boat.

work:
stuff the owner rarely does. Also, the standard term for sailing to windward.

zed:
normal unit of sleep at sea, as in ‘Send up a few zeds, did you?'

Zodiac
: trade name for the most popular brand of small rubber inflatable boat, now used generically to describe all such craft.

B
OOKS DON'T JUST HAPPEN
. Even frivolous little tomes such as this need somebody to make them real. That credit must go to Jeanne Ryckmans of Random House, who laughed when I first suggested the title and just took things from there. My heartfelt thanks to Jeanne for steering through a project that few other publishers would have had the wit or imagination to take on. She was splendidly supported through the editing and production process by Roberta Ivers, one of the many talented worker bees at The House of Random, and a painstaking editor, Sara Foster.

In truth, writing this book was the easy part; it was the previous 50 years or so of sailing to accumulate the experiences that took all the work. Most of my sailing time has been spent on OPBs – Other People's Boats – so the least I can do here is thank those other people for all the wonderful rides they've given me over the years.

First, my great schoolmate, Les Donovan, who was always keen to try something new, however weird or wonderful; the immortal Melrose Brothers from the Concord & Ryde Sailing Club who taught us as kids to race hard, but always by the rules and with honour; Mick York, my first yachting mentor and a walking practical encyclopedia of all things nautical; Steve Murphy, a good, brave sailor and absolute artist with wood who still shares my passion for
beautiful boats; Ted Thomas, my boss at the Seven Network during the 1980s, who encouraged me to mix work with pleasure (and looked the other way when pleasure won); the late Jack Rooklyn and his son Warwick – the masters of
Apollo
– who let me savour the special thrills of maxi racing; Jim Hardy (later Sir James), to whom I owe too many things to mention, of which maybe the greatest is that sailing should always be fun; Hugh O'Neill and Dal Wilson, good mates who taught me so much about boat management and the principles of safe passage-making; Steve Grellis, a terrific seafaring companion; Bob Mills, a fellow scribe who coaxed me back into serious offshore racing when he saw I was spending too much time at work; Chris Oh, a fine navigator and generous owner; Max Whitnall, who lent us his classic S&S
Vittoria
to sail to Lord Howe and – amazingly – paid all the bills; John Sturrock, a true gent and font of sailing knowledge; and Nigel Stoke of the mighty
Fidelis
, a splendid yachtsman and wonderful host who has the unique knack of making every sail pleasurable.

Many of the stories in this book began their life as articles for sailing magazines. Vanessa Dudley, then with
Yachting World
, first encouraged me to write some humorous pieces that eventually became the
Tell Tales
column. Simon Kent of
Australian Yachting
kept publishing them for years, and never changed a word. Kevin Green has continued that tradition. Peter Campbell and Adrian Herbert of
Offshore
magazine printed some of my more quirky yachting pieces that might not have found a home elsewhere. Bob Ross, a true Wise Elder of Australian sailing journalism who crewed with us on
Police Car
25 years ago, has always provided his wise counsel and dry wit. John Jeremy, the tireless editor of the Sydney Amateur Sailing Club
News
, published umpteen of my first-person accounts of offshore races, but still wants more. Dr Dayle Smith and Stuart Littlemore QC provided invaluable guidance in matters of the law. Thank you all.

And lastly, the one person without whom none of this chronic
irresponsibility would ever have been possible: my darling wife Elva. In 1967, while we were still courting, she won our club's ‘Ladies Day' on a 14-footer by employing the simple technique of hanging on to the mast with both hands while yelling ‘Help!' at 20-second intervals through the entire race. She has that trophy still. What sailor's heart would not be melted by such determination to share in her partner's passions? My profound thanks for your boundless patience, understanding and support. The pleasure of sailing is infinitely enhanced by that sunny, welcoming smile as I finally stagger home through the front gate and set down my seabag once more. Now, about next Saturday …