Every yacht owner has the odd bad day!

This article was published in “Afloat” magazine.

I should have called the day off as I “turtle backed” the dinghy down the beach. Experienced yachtsman that I am, all senses were working well. Strong Sou’wester blowing onshore with a chilly bite, 5/8ths cloud, intermittent sun, high tide with waves breaking at the waters edge - I praised my foresight for putting on my sea boots to avoid frozen feet as I launched the dinghy.

I acknowledged the sceptical looks of some early beach walkers before I turned into the wind - and commenced a stumbling, backward broad reach down the beach, the dinghy acting as an admirable shy spinnaker.

I broached and rounded up into stays 20 metres down the beach and 20 metres further away from boat. Not wanting the beach goers to know that this was not standard launching procedure, I pushed the dinghy off and waded into the short chop - which immediately filled both sea boots.

After a lengthy row into the wind I arrived, drained the sea boots and boarded, in keen anticipation of a brisk sail on Pittwater. But first , a quick motor run to the yacht club to pick up the crew. A check of the battery switches and the icy feeling around my wet feet spread to my stomach.

Power had been left on for two weeks and all three batteries were dead.

Four hours passed. My first attempt at using the car battery failed and I am still trying to find the bit of paper that has the security code for the car radio on it. Loading and unloading the battery at beach and boat are stories in themselves. The onlookers were getting their money’s worth. Suffice to say that my sea boots are very waterproof and I learned that if you leave the water in them it eventually warms up - until the next wave. My good jeans also look better with that stonewashed, acid spilt look about them.

Finally, after buying a new heavy duty battery and much head-scratching over electrical circuits, the Volvo burst into its usual robust throb and I set off for the yacht club, having already told the crew by phone that we would now be going for a long motor as the wind was too strong. I didn’t think they needed to know that the batteries could do with a charge.

Things went well. Even under power the boat is always a source of great pleasure and the wind was now a good thirty knots while the water in Pittwater remained smooth. We arrived back at the club refreshed and a discrete check of the batteries showed that they had fully recovered. As I motored up to the wharf I issued instructions to shorten the dinghy painter in preparation for going astern.

Despite my improving humour, I was not ready for my crew’s joke about “what dinghy”? They know how tense I get when handling the boat alongside and their timing was poor. Disregarding my commanding tone and imperial demands they persisted - “what dinghy”?

Safely alongside, I contemplated the void astern where the dinghy should have been. Through gritted teeth I farewelled the crew, insisting that the dinghy was not a problem - but remembering the broad reaching qualities of the little boat (it retains these qualities in the water as well as on my back) and the 30 knot sou’wester.

I set off to search the waters. For the first time that day my luck looked like it was changing. Retracing our course I found the dinghy. A kind mariner had found it drifting and tied it to a wharf on the west side of the bay. With the sun setting I breathed a sigh of relief and motored towards it.

I don’t know what made me look at the depth sounder as I approached within metres of the dinghy - perhaps just my prudent mariner instincts coming to the fore, or maybe I subconsciously noted the shallow water mark only 30 metres away - to seawards. Anyway, it confirmed that the water was 1.2 metres deep and as we grounded I recalled that our draft was 1.3 metres.

Many things go through your mind at moments like these. Things like:
“If it was high tide this morning what is the state of the tide now”? “If the tide goes out any more, will I have an opportunity to clean the wind and water line”? “Should I take up lawn bowling for recreation”?

Well I haven’t taken up lawn bowling, she came off very easily and I have been able to keep the grounding a secret from most people - even those who knew I had lost the dinghy.

And the moral of the story. Don’t leave your wife to turn off the batteries - she may not have your high standards and skills of seamanship.