Green Wyvern Yachting Club
Some Green Wyvern skippers are in favour of the leisurely approach to cruising, whilst some always want to be off at the crack of dawn and clock up the miles. Here, Tony Tomkins replies, with his customary pithiness, to Jonathan Winterton's justification of 'leisurely starts'.
I'm not clear what (or whom) Jonathan is getting at in his article 'What's the Rush'? The urge to get there first is not precisely the same as his interest in racing, nor is either of these identical to a desire to get the best out of your yacht. But his positive point is perfectly valid: 'idyllic cruising' is a delightful way of enjoying the Broads
. . . in certain circumstances, by the way. When, for instance, your crew consists of wife, several children under eight, and Aunt Agatha.
It is also a good way of passing the time with friends, provided they are known to be in tune with your tastes, and have been fully briefed beforehand. But I have seen a friend, who thought he had come up for a weekend's sailing, still sitting in the 'Duke's Head' at gone 2.30 p.m. on a Saturday, bored to stupefaction while his host engaged a more intimate buddy in a very long conversation on obtuse points of yachtsmanship. But perhaps Jonathan would draw the line at this degree of leisureliness.
If, however, as he seems to be doing, he is recommending this kind of cruising
. . . not going anywhere in particular, and some days not going anywhere at all . . .
for Club weeks, then I must part company with him. What would such a week look like?
Get up late
A lengthy breakfast
Where shall we go today?
Sails up for a couple of hours (perhaps)
A skinful
A lengthy lunch
Sails up for another couple of hours (perhaps)
A pre-dinner drink
Dinner
A post-dinner drink
Coffee
A chat about old times
Bed
Whatever the attractions of this to those of us past the first flush of youth, can you imagine a routine less likely to enthral a teen-aged boy? A programme more middle-aged? Haven't many of our young recruits been enduring similar holidays (minus the optional sailing) with their parents for the first thirteen years of their lives, and didn't they sign on with us in the expectation of something a bit more exciting? And would it be surprising if, after a week like that, they found the experience more useful for getting vacation jobs in geriatric clinics?
The Green Wyvern is a broad church. There is room in it for those who race even when no-one else knows there is a race going on, for those who love to be up and off, for those who have a profound need to reach the next mooring first, for those who get a thrill out of sailing spectacular distances, for those who think it smart to use three tides in one day, for those who would be perfectly happy never to venture west of Cantley and the Waveney Hotel or north of the Berney Arms. But there isn't room for every fancy all the time, and when fifteen to twenty third and fourth formers arrive for a sailing holiday, we cannot afford to go on being planless and easy-going. A full programme, adjustable, of course, in the light of circumstances, including exacting situations which ask something other than washing-up from every member of every crew, then, in my view, becomes essential.
Another essential is, if possible, to have a night in Yarmouth. At this, in my mind's eye, I see hands being thrown up in pious horror; for haven't we, for many years, been aiming at exactly the opposite? Never an early riser, I have sat aghast listening to plans to sail at 4.00 a.m. from Stracey or Berney in order to avoid the catastrophe of lying in the Yacht Station. Yarmouth is expensive, of course, and not as safe as, say, Loddon, but are those really the only reasons for shunning it? Don't we also find it garish, brash, noisy and vulgar, offensive to our middle-aged, middle-class, idyllic-cruising proclivities?
But the young will think it is great, and it is on them that the well-being of our Club depends.
ART
1984