Boogie Nights

A sweary hyperactive maritime professional, really very keen on laughing a lot, doing their best to avoid all the trappings of societies' expectations by acting on impulse to any adventurous idea that wafts by. Let's go!

bienvenu, hola, ciao!

05 September 2017

JOG to Alderney

A quick JOG race to Alderney was planned in June. It just so happened to be the first weekend after a milestone birthday for the Captain.


The boat came out for a scrub and antifoul and then came out again a few days later to skim the rudder bearing (again) there will be another post about that when I can be arsed

There was a terse verbal exchange during a poorly executed mooring by the crew, who we will call 118, who had asked if he could have a go at mooring up, when I suggested it was "obvious you've been sailing a long keel far more than a fin keel recently" he responded by calling the captain a "cunt", then told her to "shut it shrimpy" and promptly fekked off down below leaving captain calamity here to struggle to tie her own badly moored boat up.

Bravo for not putting a breadknife between his shoulder blades I say. Restraint of fairly high order.



We set off from Cowes on a Friday evening.
The watch system was casual, but the regular 2 on 2 off was agreed.
Except the co-skipper, 118 decided this wasn't for him after trying unsuccessfully to sleep for 15 minutes, he came up and sat next to the Captain, who was blissfully enjoying a light airs night with some music in the cockpit and told her to go to bed. To which the word "what?" was uttered and a hard stare was issued.

He dismissed himself back down below with an attitude like thunder.

So much so that the captain made a log book entry along the lines of "co-skip not able to sleep, feeling troubled"
Night passed to morning and the wind dropped as Alderney was in sight. The tide turned and Boogie Nights slowly drifted away from the finish line.

The Asymmetrical colourful thing was hoisted and used as a hold-us-where-we-are wind anchor for 5 hours.  Plenty of time for a little chat.

"What the fuck is your problem? Why are you being such a grumpy cunt?" I asked

118 "you know the rave music you play, the kind of stuff you have glow sticks for? You play it a lot. All night."

"yes, and?"

118 "I don't like it"

"the boat is called Boogie Nights. Clues in the fucking name you chump"

silence.


leaving Cowes and heading south towards Alderney

Boats around us in the night are always nice markers to keep you on your toes to keep the boat moving. Very few 2 handed boats though. 

holding station. Going nowhere. 

A wind anchor, with almost no wind and a tide against us. 

Bottle of Prosecco from Alderney Sailing Club and JOG. 
The place where they sell the best chips and pizza on the island



the best chips

it's a short ish walk from one side of the island to the other. 


owls about that, a book in the wildlife bunker. 

going home. conversation still minimal. 

A lesson here is: don't come sailing on Boogie Nights without bringing some of your own music, otherwise you'll be subjected to hours of "bangin' choons" or highly eclectic mix of folk, house, funk, rock and spoken word comedy.


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