It was good to be back on the water at Chipstead but feeling slightly tired after watching lots of late night/early morning TV of what was has been an incredible Rio 2016 Paralympics. Team GB having broken through 100 medals today!! An amazing performance by all the 4000+ competitors and their supporters which will create a marvellous legacy of inclusivity and accessibility in Brazil and throughout both South and North America. STOP PRESS: If you haven’t seen it, do watch a recording of the final of the Men’s Doubles Wheelchair Tennis, just A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!!!

Whilst we had lots of hot sunshine today, Wind Guru’s forecast for Chipstead –  which I checked just before leaving home – turned out to be rather optimistic.  At 9am there was a reasonable NE breeze but it soon  dropped and veered around, first to the East by the start of  race at 11.30 and  then weakened further and veered to the South during the after lunch session. This meant that, throughout the day, every sailor had to put in a lot of work to make the best of what little wind there was – and if possible try to anticipate shifts or at least react to the shifts quickly enough to keep their boats moving. Very tough conditions, requiring patience and concentration as can be seen from the following gallery…

But 13  WS Racers (plus a ringer in a spare 2.4) were prepared to take on these conditions and our special reporter was there…let’s read what he made of what went on….

Farmer has returned from terrorising Mexico and the two of us set out on time from sunny Orpington. We had a number of things to catch up on including the corruption scandal, dark side editing, drug testing, Russian military weapons and, last but not least, Captain Bligh’s birthday celebration. I never mentioned it to Farmer but I had hoped he would bring me back a sombrero; it would have been useful today. On arrival at Chipstead, I was frisked down by an over eager Trustee in a very smart, jaune (yellow) outfit. Whilst it was good to feel that our safety came premiere, I couldn’t help noticing that some clients were excluded from the frisking, whilst others got two goes! (What’s that all about? Ed.)

Out of the corner of my eye I could see the Red Torpedo being readied. I couldn’t see any obvious signs of mechanical devices or salt water mammals, but more on that later. The usual suspects had gathered and were busy discussing how to sabotage each other. Mike Blatchford admitted he had lead me astray about the spinnaker on Kermit, but assured me I should try the one on the Martin. “Yeah right Mike. Think I am silly enough to look, huh?” Bligh was there, looking for her latest Fletcher Christian, and Fay arrived in good voice just in time to berate me for my last blogg. 

As we made our way down to the pontoon, you could have cut the tension with a knife. I was first up and yet again Kermit was offered up for the third time in succession. I could sense a number of volunteers smiling at me  (and each other) with the benefit of insider knowledge. Hmmm, I thought, the dark-side editor and one or two others have probably placed discreet holes in some of the peppermint rockets  water-tight compartments. No doubt hoping I would do a Leonardo  DiCaprio, a la Titanic. Therefore I did something galant ….  “Steve why don’t you have a go in the famous Kermit. She always wins”. Roughly translated, that means “Sucker, hope you can swim!” Next up was Keelover (previously known as McKee Lover). She looked to be a sound beast, so off we went.

As I started to go about my business on the water, three strange events occurred:  1) Kim appeared out of the reeds in The Red Rocket. Now the Rocket has been hidden for the past few weeks and, given Kermit’s demise (sabotage), the RR is definitely the number one boat. I tried my very best not to say anything but I just blurted out: “How are you feeling Kim?”. “Terrible !” she replied. That was that then, I thought: the Red Torpedo back in the lake and Kim feeling terrible. There was absolutely no doubt that Fay was already relaying this latest information to Karen to restate the odds for their betting scoop. 2) The Red Torpedo shot past me and I couldn’t help noticing its skipper was looking very relaxed and listening to the theme tune (da-dah, da-dah. etc) from Jaws. Though so very hard to believe, I keep coming back to the dolphin theory to explain the Red Torpedo’s extraordinary turn of speed (even when there is NO WIND!). Its skipper was almost asleep as the Torpedo tacked back and forth with no obvious sign of effort. 3) A short while later another 2.4 shot by me – with the dark-side editor at the helm!  (The ringer. Ed.) I looked again at him and began to wonder how a human being could fit in a 2.4? I came to the conclusion that the helm’s legs must be dangling through the bottom of the boat and he was either running along Fred Flintstone style or just riding on the back of a dolphin. This would explain the speed he was travelling at and why he looked so sweaty.

Anyway enough of these theories and back to the race. Bligh set off at a reasonable pace, followed 5 minutes later by a number of double handed 303’s. I guess the double handed 303’s get the extra minute because of the extra weight. Hang on a moment I thought what about us solo helms who are a pound or two overweight, such as Farmer and yours truly. Surely we should get some sort of weight allowance? (Is this an official request? Ed.) Anyway, off we went and I found myself following Kim and Mark C (and his crew, James) on a starboard tack, while the majority of vessels were heading the other way. The order of the day seemed to be multiple shorter tacks and by the time I reached the windward Mark D, I was in third place behind Bligh and Kim!! Unfortunately the wind was non-existent as I was trying to round Mark D and a number of dinghies, myself included, just floated around struggling for wind-power to give them some direction. By now I was expecting to come across the wreckage of Kermit and wondered if I would offer Steve assistance. A bit like the Carpathian steaming to aid the Titanic… “nah let him sink, I think he can swim.”

Eventually a very laid back Skipper Gregory flew past, but no sign of Fred Flintstone and David Mason in the 2.4s or Mike Blatchford in his spinnaker-powered Martin.

As we rounded Mark B on the second lap, I was surprised to see Brian, seemingly at anchor, enjoying the sunshine. The Red Torpedo was long gone, Kim and Bligh remained just within sight and, with a good wind, I felt I had a chance of  finishing with the leaders. Suddenly, I realised my fears that Keelover had been got at were spot-on. She refused to steer to port, I know not why, and one by one a number of other Racers sailed by, leaving me slipping back towards a mid-fleet finish. Arrrh.

But once again I found myself in position to be first back to the pontoon. When suddenly Kim came hurtling in desperate for the loo. I gallantly (Again? Ed.) stood aside, to ensure I wasn’t rammed by her boat. Sorry to mention this Kim, but it is relevant. An imaginative thought popped into my head at this time. I would like to propose that in future, races are extended by 10 minutes, with pit stops allowed. This would make our races more akin to F1 Grand Prix racing (and might give me a chance)!! (Is this another official request – for the rules to be bent in your favour? Ed.)

I didn’t see the final results (See below. Ed.) but I suspect normal service was resumed. It then dawned on me that I forgot about Farmer, who was probably at the bottom of Davy Jones Locker. I realised that I would have the difficult task of breaking the news to his friend (that’s me) and family. But even worse, I didn’t know where he had put my lunch-box. Fortunately (for me) Kermit limped home and Farmer declared he was still on holiday.

Being first on the pontoon, I was happy to assist a number of vessels to come alongside. I think Fay showed how much she enjoys sailing because, having half-left her vessel, she changed her mind and sat down again. Only kidding Fay, I hope the bruise isn’t too big.

A good crowd of clients and volunteers gathered afterwards  on the patio and lawn outside the clubhouse and, after singing Happy Birthday to Ann, were treated to cake and sparkling wine to  toast Ann on her 80th birthday. A nice occasion for a very special lady!! (Well said, Bob – and here’s a reminder. Ed.)

In summary a beautiful day with interesting wind conditions.  As always many thanks to the volunteers who not only ensure our safety (excluding Kermit) but also have a great sense of humour.

It was truly a great occasion being able to mark Ann’s significant anniversary. And to recognise her not just for being a very good sailor but also an accomplished painter and a published author – as well as a genial and generous human being!

Final Result: 1. Peter G; 2. Mike B; 3. Kim; 4. Paul/Peter; 5. Ann; 6. Fay/Douglas; 7. Bob; 8. Stewart/Tony; 9. Brian Mac; 10. David Mason; 11. Mark/James; 12. Steve; 13. Andy.  

Recognising from previous posts that the motor boat sees very little of the real action in the race our Fleet Reporter (soon to retire) has kindly provided his view of the race. Here it is:

What a nice day for sailing, plenty of sunshine and a steady breeze looked  to provide for a good days racing.  Today was the Autumn Equinox, it was a day of boat fixing, unexpected alliances, sabotage, dodgy pit crews and Tarantulas.   It was also a day of excuses and most importantly of all Panini’s

The day started with Farmer pulling “my daughter is at the dentist” excuse.  Now in fairness to Steve he has beautiful  twin daughters.  But this is the 22nd time he has used the daughter at the dentist excuse (henceforth known as excuse number 22)  this season.  To anyone believing this excuse is genuine, it may be a good time to invest in Dentistry shares.  But more excuses later.

I noticed that Le phantom friskier had arrived late, so anyone who had turned up expecting a pat down were sorely disappointed.

Having made my way down to the dock, I was confronted by Dai and two unknown volunteers wearing matching cowboy hats who clearly did not understand the murky underworld they were letting themselves in for. Steve slipped over quietly and whispered to me that Kermit had been ‘fixed up for me’ and was ready to race. More observant bystanders noted that said vessel was in fact still on the hard (to quote a nautical term). Dai looked on in horror as The two Cowboys led me to an insipid craft called ‘This way up’ or something along those lines. Despite winking at them etc, no attempt was made to pass me any contraband, oars, outboards, etc. What a waste of £3 I thought to myself.  As the mediocre craft slid out into the lakes two sounds caught my attention. I could clearly  hear the two Cowboys shouting Die Die (editors note, we suspect they were saying Dai). Secondly I could hear Fay telling Karen that Bob had been ” tucked up”, and to adjust the odds accordingly.

Shortly afterwards I was approached by a very fidgety Mike Blatchford who appeared to be sitting on a nest of ants.  “Take a look at the other Martin” Mike advised me.  I looked across at the other Martin and spotted the unlikely alliance of Andy (ram anyone who gets in the way) with none other than the Northern Cardinal himself, Peter Gregory.   In the past we have had such great partnerships as Rodgers and Hammerstein, Morecombe and Wise and the Krankies.  This partnership however struck me as more like Delboy and Rodney, it was either doomed to failure or this time next year they will be millionaires.

True to form Kim came sliding out of the reeds in none other than the Red Rocket, which is strangely absent each time I approach the dock. I had strategically placed sellotape on my lips so I wouldn’t ask how Kim was feeling.  Once again the gentlemen within me took control and I spluttered through a mouthful of sellotape ” how are you Kim”.  “Terrible, worse than ever” Kim replied. William Hill and Ladbrokes immediately cut their odds from five to 2 to evens favourite, but strong money was also being placed on the fools and horses duo.  Mike Blatchford however now appeared to be attempting to abandon ship and had rapidly gone out to 20 to one, very good odds for a previous course and distance winner. With all this activity taking place, the two evil 2.4’s were also looking good value for money.

As usual the normal game of Chinese whispers was taking place at the start.  Was it D,A,C  or C, A, D. At this stage I always feel  a little sorry for Mark C  ( the person not the buoy). Many a time I have seen him and his crew set off followed by a small  flotilla who misunderstood  the Mark C connection.

As Usual Bligh set off in the Bounty and took a huge starboard tack.  The double handed 303’s were next and most made a good start.  Finally it was our turn and my insipid craft went off like a rocket, leaving Kim and the well fancied Red Rocket in my wake. It is now that sadly I have to report two very unsporting moments that clearly affected the race result. I could almost sense the victory line (O K we had just started), when I heard the unmistakable screaming of a woman in distress. It was clearly Kim and judging by the noise of her screams she had either lost a limb in an accident or was clearly in need of an ambulance for some other disaster. I tried to signal the control boat to dial 999 and call out the coastguard, but they were busy sunbathing (OK l exaggerate a little). I have to admit I was torn, this was my chance to leave Kim miles behind, but my conscience got the better of me and several other vessels who scrambled to the clearly stricken Kim. I had by this time built up an unassailable lead (OK it was 10 foot) and had to choose between Kim’s life and victory.  It was a hard decision to make, but then I remembered Kim telling me that her cat had once saved her life and was her hero. So it was a straight decision, victory or hero? The thought of appearing on the news proved too much and the insipid one diverted course on a rescue mission. As I crossed the huge 10 foot gap between us, I could just distinguish what she was yelling like a drunken banshee ” SPIDER, SPIDER”. Hmm I thought as I swung around once again, “wonder where the other one is”. Of course by now Kim had regained her composure and shot by while I retrieved my anchor.

As I tracked down Kim bent on revenge a second dodgy event occurred. I could see Kim calling over the control boat and pointing at the insipid one. The control boat then swung over to me and informed me that my outrider was miss functioning. How could I possibly have a faulty outrider when I didn’t even know I had one. Anyway suffice to say I was in the pits for what seemed like 15 minutes and I couldn’t help notice a very happy looking Kim as she disappeared over the horizon.  Never mind I thought the 2nd tarantula is yet to make his debut..

The insipid one continued to punch well above its weight and as the half hour mark approached, none of the faster craft from the posh dock had passed me. I was busy shouting at the race officials pointing at my watch when suddenly the Trotters shot by, closely followed by David in one  of the evil 2.4’s.   But Mike fidgety Blatchford and Peter in the other evil 2.4 remained behind.

Suddenly the wind dropped off and I was able to consolidate a mid table finish, comfortable in the knowledge that if it hadn’t been for some outrageous match fixing, it would have been an entirely different finish.

Mike Blatchford approached me at the end and claimed he had been sabotaged by a broken seat in the Martin (excuse number 34) and Peter in the 2.4 was claiming lack of practise having not attended for a few weeks.

Pippa was able to confirm that Jimmy’s training was going well, although he appeared to be helping himself to her lunch when she looked the other way.  An added bonus was the hot Panini’s being served, which I can confirm were very good and well received.

The standard of sailing is definitely improving and I tip my cap ( if I had one) to the double handed crews including Fay, Mark C and Daljit, who left me miles behind.

Despite, sabotage, shady goings on and arachnids, another very enjoyable day at Chipstead.  Many thanks to all the volunteers , including the Cowboys, Dai, and the dodgy pit crew.

Final positions were:

1. Sanjit Sandhu; 2.Kim Sparkes; 3. Mark Cayzer; 4. David Mason; 5. Andy Wallace; 6. Bob Fisher; 7. Peter Wagner; 8. Ann Frewer; 9. Malcolm Hill; 10. Fay Watson; 11. Mike Blatchford.

What a fantastic day we had for racing on Thursday, with lots of sunshine, and for a change lots of wind too..!! The forecast for the wind (which seemed to be quite accurate this time!) was 16mph, gusting into the 20’s….that’s force-4, gusting force-5, maybe even force-6..!!

But, throughout the morning, just to show how tough they were, we had 12 racers turn up keen to challenge themselves against the elements..!!

At this point I should give you a blow by blow report of how the days race unfolded. But we now have a resident roving reporter, so I’ll hand over to him for the full ‘SP’. Not sure how accurate his report will be, but what the hell!!

Well this was the race that had everything. Tactical battles, drunkenness (definitely NOT on the race control boat!! Ed.), boat fixing, collisions, course changes in mid race and that was just in the club house trying to get a coffee and a biscuit.
On arrival at Chipstead a scantily clad trustee appeared in the midst of changing his clothes, he told me he would look better in rouge (sorry red).
It was fairly gusty today and most of the boats were being reefed. Now in my very amateur opinion reeling is for sissies (I agree! Ed). How can I possibly achieve my ultimate aim of crossing the Atlantic solo, when I am being reefed on Chipstead lake? But more of that later.

My first sight on the jetty was a volunteer who shall remain nameless staggering about and falling onto the jetty. Now this particular volunteer has been very helpful to me in the past in pit crew duties, so I shall protect his anonymity. Incidentally the half drunk bottle of navy rum slipped into the murky waters of Chipstead lake, or did I see Fay discreetly loading it aboard Red Robin?!? Having given me my weekly telling off, Fay assured me that her sister Karen was not participating in the off course betting scandal this week, because she was attending a cookery class. I suspect tonight’s dinner may have a slightly alcoholic taste!

Next to arrive on the jetty was a very pale looking Peter Gregory, or maybe it was just the lack of reflection from the absent Red Torpedo? Peter informed me that the torpedo had been due to race on a reservoir, but because of excessive drinking from London’s nightlife, the water level had dropped (water???). Having been excluded from the elite 2.4 squad Peter had been thrown off the VIP jetty and forced to join the working class on the public jetty.. It seemed a little unfair on the great man, but nevertheless we couldn’t help suggest he be allocated Bligh’s bathtub. I didn’t see the payment change hand, but Peter somehow got a business class upgrade to a Liberty. This will be interesting I thought to myself, now we will see if he really can sail (for those still wondering…yes he can! Ed.)

Now it was my turn and I must admit I was surprised to once again see Kermit sliding into position. I sensed the volunteers smiling amongst themselves as I was boarded on the Spearmint steed. I checked her over carefully and was not surprised to see the starboard sheet had been discreetly tampered with. Now it just so happened that Steve was helping with boarding, so I pointed out the sabotage to him and felt confident in his repair. Surely no one was more trustworthy? (Naive mistake! Ed.)

Having been on a run of mediocre form recently I had decided a change of tactics might change my luck. The course was set to start at a gap between K and a buoy, followed by some tacking up to Mark-A, across to Mark-C and return back via D. I had decided like a long distance runner I would conserve energy for a couple of laps and then let Kermit loose in a sprint finish as we passed between K and the buoy.
(Note to racers. K and the small flag buoy were only used for the start of the race, they were NOT part of the course after then!! Ed.)

As usual Kim slid quietly into the field (how does she do that?) and I made a conscious decision not to ask her how she was. I think this was one of the biggest fields I have seen (there were actually 12 boats in all. Ed) and just before the start it got very gusty. Now as I mentioned earlier I wasn’t impressed by sissy reefing. However suddenly Kermit’s twin turbines leapt into action and I found myself hurtling forward and taking on water at an alarming rate. I could hear a voice shouting “reef, reef”. And in retrospect suspect the voice was mine. Anyway suffice to say I got my wish and found myself aground on the reef in front of a packed clubhouse. Bribery money changed hands and once again the half sunken Kermit, shot across the lake. Then something very suspect occurred. My starboard jib sheet mysteriously came adrift. But hold on wasn’t this the very sheet that Steve had tied only recently ???? Surely Steve wasn’t involved in the scandal? (What did I tell you? Ed.) If so the scandal is much bigger than we ever imagined. Once again the safety boat came to my rescue, but it was with a heavy heart and six gallons of Chipstead lake that Kermit and I set off again.

I started to make some headway on the twin helmed 303’s. And had an interesting, hair raising and very sporting battle with a number of crews (particularly Kevin and his Skipper Kelly) who I crossed swords with on multiple occasions. It wasn’t long before the Liberties swept by inclusive of Peter Gregory (rumours about him only being successful with mechanical assistance are now history). Despite the difficult conditions, my plan was holding up well. The evil 2.4’s were still trailing and I could just about make out Kim and Peter in the Liberties a mile or two ahead. Mike Blatchford had recently told me that some of the vessels carried a spinnaker and I decided to let loose Kermit’s spinnaker accordingly. But hold on could I find it? I suspect that Mike had led me astray on this and have to say a little unsporting. (None of the 303’s has a spinnaker!?!? Ed.) Much has been said recently about Mike’s underhand tactics and I feel that an apology is due. I have attached photographic evidence which undoubtedly clears his name.

Anyway back to the race. As we turned around D for the second time I was preparing for my sprint. As I passed the buoy next to K, I would unleash Kermit’s full capabilities. Kermit was straining at the leash, history was about to be made. But hold on the buoy had mysteriously disappeared. I looked across to starboard and saw Brian towing the buoy to the far side of the lake, with a safety boat in hot pursuit!. This completely disrupted my plan and allowed the evil 2.4 fleet to cruise by.
As we approached A for the final time, I could hear Kim laughing behind me. This meant I was going to be lapped. Suddenly a brilliant gust filled Kermit’s sails (with the exception of the spinnaker) and she shot by two or three double handed 303’s just before the whistle.

As usual I have no idea of the final position, although I suspect Peter and Kim were there or thereabouts, with Kermit sadly near the back of the pack. I was pleased to see Brian was rescued and once again everyone seemed to have a great day.
Sorry to see that Bligh didn’t make it today. According to Wikipedia, he/she celebrates his 262nd birthday tomorrow. Ann you are looking very good for it.

For those who are interested, the final result was:
1. Peter Gregory; 2. Kim Sparkes; 3. David Mason; 4. Mike Blatchford; 5. Dalgit Sandhu; 6. Kelly Tripp; 7. Mark Cayzer; 8. Fay Watson; 9. Bob Fisher; 10. Brian Mac; 11. Ben; 12. Andy Wallace;

Today was a beautiful summer’s day and after a very quiet start to the day, sufficient wind filled the lake at 1045 which enabled the fifth race of the summer series to be confirmed and 14 entrants began milling around the start line ready for the off at 1130! It was great to welcome some new WS Racers: Andy Masters, who went out for his first sail at Chipstead in many years, with Patrick as crew; Phil from the Cheshire Home day centre who generally does not race but today he did and was accompanied by Stephen as crew; and Brendan who had a new volunteer  but very experienced big boat sailor, Terry, as his crew.

Our Knight of the Lake has offered me his observations on the day to share with the WS world and by doing so I hope that readers will gain insights from the fecundity of his fancy and choice of language!

Once again I was confronted by a sea of glass upon my arrival at Chipstead. The only breeze I could see was that caused by some butterflies’ wings. Following last week’s disaster with the Kalashnikov, I had managed to procure a higher-powered water gun but it was quickly pounced upon by a rogue trustee. And several poor innocents were subjected to a severe soaking from Rambo Mckee (oops… gave the name away again).

It was obvious that racing would not take place in these conditions.  A number of us stood around making pleasantries when our good friend Fay decided to berate me for my recent blogging commentaries. Fay’s form has been improving over recent weeks and when we do finally get a dope dog, as opposed to a dopey dog, I think she will be on the list of the racers to be tested.  However, I do have another theory. I am pretty sure I could hear Fay communicating with someone via a  concealed microphone. I may be wrong but I think Fay may be passing information to her sister, Karen, to enable some form of off-course betting scam. Message to Fay and Karen, “Watch out we are watching you!!”

Having made my way down to the pontoon, something very strange occurred (As if this occurrence was something strange? Ed.) Sitting waiting for me was a pristine looking Kermit, complete with hidden oar and wet sponge. This was a little too good to be true and of course I realised those sneaky helpers were just having fun at my expense, given the lack of wind. So I sat there in the spearmint wonder machine and sunbathed, when suddenly a miracle occurred. A small puff of wind grew and grew and suddenly Kermit leapt into action and began to hustle across the lake. Fay and Bob Marsh were swept aside as the mean green flying machine swept up through its powerful automatic gearbox. Ahah, I was feeling pretty cocky as I swept across the lake enjoying the look of horror on the volunteers’ faces, who up till now had been laughing at my expense. The main danger appeared to be Mike Blatchford in his trusty Martin, but given his recent record of poor sportsmanship (Can we please forget the alleged paddle and outboard engine? Ed), I was confident I could find a way to get him disqualified. With the arrival of this good wind, the race was back on and I was sitting in the bookies’ favourite. Bligh was somewhere (But not at Chipstead. Ed), no doubt giving one of her crew 50 lashes. The two evil 2.4’s were still firmly in dock. The red torpedo was no doubt elsewhere winning another trophy and Kim who we had banned for one week still hadn’t resurfaced and as far as I could see Brian and Eileen hadn’t arrived. With the greatest respect to my other 303 colleagues, I felt positive that today was my day. Oh boy was I going to have fun today.

But, as I glanced over to the pontoon, I saw two the 2.4’s being unleashed into the lake. Suddenly I felt like a small duckling sitting on a pond watching crocodiles sliding into the water. (This is the wild imagination  we readers love! Ed.) Standing by the clubhouse was Pippa with a huge hound (actually her new and very cute Labrador pup, called Jimmy), but wait for it……..there was Kim. As usual Kim’s leftover 303 came sliding out from the reeds with 2 minutes to go (How does she do that?). I tried to smile and ask her how she was? “Not feeling too good today,” she replied. Oh boy when she says that I sense trouble. I think I could hear Fay relaying information to the off-course bookies and a flurry of activity amongst the volunteers onshore. Fay had told me earlier that the new £5 note will be made of plastic. My theory is, that is because they will be able to float amongst the bookies on Chipstead lake.

With a decent wind the course was set between Marks D and A and the double handed 303’s made good starts tacking upwind towards Mark A. Kim and her crew, Mandy, and Fay and her crew, Bob Marsh, had elected to take a wide starboard tack and were making good progress down the lake. This seemed like a good course, away from the majority of the traffic, so Kermit and I followed them. However, given Kermit’s racing pedigree, I was able to point her slightly closer to the wind and as a result I shot past both Kim and Fay by the time we reached Mark A. As we rounded the Mark, leaving it to starboard, several 303’s were neck and neck

…and then the wind subsided. Each helm was trying different tactics to try to gain an advantage but the fleet travelled down the lake very slowly, reaching the D Mark ‘en masse’ (French written here? Ed). Note to Editor: you have asked about training requirements. I have decided I need anger management training. As we began tacking back to Mark A, I decided to be polite and give way to everyone. “After you etc. etc.” Hence my requirement to learn how to become ANGRY. Suddenly the housewives’ favourite was halfway down the pack and the crocodiles were snapping. Suffice to say, the majority of the boats left Kermit in their wakes and when the Final whistle blew (if only it had blown 20 minutes earlier), Kermit and its helm were looking at a chance lost. However, for the first time ever, I was first back to the jetty and was first up the victory steps (but no one asked if I had won?. I had no idea of the final finishing order, although I later heard that Kim upheld the honour of the 303 fleet by staying (just) ahead of David Mason on his crocodile! How does she do that? (That is exactly what David Mason asked me afterwards! Ed)

In summary another beautiful day, the bookies were happy that Kim is back and, with Pippa’s permission, we will begin training Jimmy as our dope dog.

Thank you Bob……and to finish this week’s chat, the order of helms across the start line, completing each of the two laps raced and at their position at the end of 35 minutes is shown on the schematic below together with some more pictures of the day. And, as always, a big thanks to our volunteer crews (Bob, Patrick, John, Charles, Steve and Terry) who assisted our Racers to enjoy the day.

I got down to the lake at 8.30am to help to rig and launch the extensive fleet (of dinghies, the Lugger and safety boats) now available to Wealden Sailability and was hoping the NNE/NE wind would pick up at least to the speed forecast by Windguru for Chipstead for the morning – namely  5 to 7 mph.  I went out with William at 1030 and we started to sail the course from Mark A to Mark D. It was possible but the wind was so light and erratic that it took us over half an hour just to sail between the two Marks.

So, regrettably, just a few minutes before it was scheduled to start and as the temperature reached 25 dgs, I recommended to Steve Thomas that the Race should be cancelled. This was agreed and I then went round in the Race Commando letting the WS Racers, who were making their way down to the Start Line, of this decision. The only helm who appeared to be disappointed was David Mason who, having bagged a 2.4, felt that he would be missing an opportunity for a good result. Sorry David!

Many thanks to other WS Racers who came along for the race, namely: Andy, Ann, Bob, Brian, Fay, John, Malcolm, Mark, Mike, Peter W,  Phil and William. And thanks to the WS volunteer crews! It was also good to welcome Mike Coleman back on the water after his house move – or was it a dog-catching marathon?

At lunchtime Bob Fisher was showing to anyone who wished to watch, a film that he had made concerning some of the accusations he has made in his race reports over recent weeks about underhand goings-on surrounding the WS Racing activities. Although I found the film amusing, and even thought it might be suitable to be published on this website, I was so shocked at its conclusion that  that thought went out of my mind immediately – and I can only hope that Mike Blatchford accepts my unreserved apology! Later, once I had got home, I received a note from Bob in which I expected to read his apology to me…..but all he said was:

Understandably today’s racing was cancelled because of lack of wind since Farmer who normally provides about 75 per cent of the wind was busy elsewhere.  However, when we arrived everyone thought the race would proceed as normal and I did notice a certain tension on the jetty when the boats were being allocated.   Kermit is undoubtedly the prize vessel and it seems only a matter of time before someone falls (is pushed) off the pontoon in the melee trying to get aboard.  Let’s take Fay as an example. Earlier in the summer, she would stop  to ask me how I was,  or to discuss the weather etc.   But today, no such friendly chit chat, and I may be wrong but I think I saw her carrying a  collapsible weapon to make sure she got her vessel of choice.  She obviously succeeded as she departed the the jetty in my beloved Red Rocket.  Once again I was allocated a nameless lemon,  but given my recent run of form, 10th last week, I was expecting a red hot performance.   Unfortunately the only things that were red hot were my knees from a very hot sun. I wasn’t surprised that Capt Bligh seemed fairly upset by the decision to cancel.  With her 15 minute time advantage over the evil 2.4’s she could have sailed at least 20 yards and hoped nobody else moved in the next 35 minutes.  It was a tactic that may have worked, but the correct decision (to cancel the race) was made and shares in sun tan lotions tumbled accordingly.  I could see the look of dismay from Fay and the skipper of Kermit, who had no doubt paid enormous bribes to gain the ‘super boats’. Unfortunately no wind, no super boat!   And Bligh was in the process of nailing a defenceless helper to her mast. Although many boats were carrying the banned paddles, I did not see any obvious attempts to bend the rules.   Except maybe Tony, who was filling his cap with water and then putting it on his head.   From his action I wondered if  he was 1. a little touched by the sun,  2. in need of a shower or 3. was discreetly paddling and adding further ballast to the boat.   The cynic in me suggests option 3 but I leave it to readers to draw their own conclusions.  Another interesting observation was the number of fish attempting to jump out of the lake?   More members of James’ fan club maybe?

Those of us who hit the clubhouse early were greeted with the sight of what appeared to be a WW2 landing craft chugging up and down the lake.   As far as I know it couldn’t escape the lake, so Normandy was 1. a little late and 2. would take some serious navigating.  I can only assume some sort of raid is being planned on the houses at the far end of the lake.  If this is the case I would like to put Bligh forward as Captain, since it’s pretty important that if this raid is undertaken, no survivors are left alive.

In the meantime David McKee had managed to obtain the water powered kalaknikov that Mark C had used the previous week.  Sneaking up behind Mark, David plotted his revenge, but the kalaknikov leaked most of its ammunition onto the front of David’s shorts.   Shortly after that a very nice lady with a French accent appeared and said “David, look what you have done.”  She then planted a smacker on his head and was introduced as Mrs Mckee. Voila!

So in summary: a beautiful day, nobody overtook me or lapped me, what’s to complain about?