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Earlybird Series – 30th March 2025

The start was delayed. The OOD showed up late—blindsided by the start of BST. He got the course sorted eventually, with the sun beating down hard enough to scorch his forehead. Forecast said clouds. It lied. Blue skies, gusty winds, and the water glinting like glass. Perfect for racing.

Six boats launched for the Early Bird series. Jake, sharp off the line on a port tack, looked good near the yellow buoy. But it didn’t last. The Lasers and the Solution powered past, cutting him off like sharks in the shallows. Key’s Wayfarer trailed. At the horn, he was miles behind. Water to make up. Plenty of it.

First mark. The pack formed. Steve, Andrew, Jason, Garry, Jake, then Key. Andrew flipped, tumbling into the drink and clearing the way for Jason. Key clawed ahead of Jake on lap two. The final stretch was a showdown. Andrew pushed hard, gaining on Steve, nearly stealing second back from Jason. But Jason held him. Eight seconds. That’s all it took.

The wind teased during the break, fading before surging back just as the horn screamed for the second race. Gusts hit hard and fast, keeping everyone sharp. The tide wasn’t helping. Logs drifted toward Penarth like ghosts, messing with the beat near the yellow buoy. The start? Tight. Calls of “starboard” probably flew, but I couldn’t hear them from where I was.

First mark again. Steve in the lead. Andrew, Jason, Garry chasing. Jason made his move, pulling even with Andrew on the run. But Andrew wasn’t giving up. He regained control on the next reach. Steve? He didn’t falter. He took the win. Andrew and Jason followed. Key wrestled with his reefed sail and dropped behind Jake.

Will and Charles cleaned up the buoys. Boats docked. The clubhouse doors swung open. Race done.

Results

Earlybird Series – 16th March 2025

It was a bright, sunny, yet crisp and cold Sunday morning for the latest instalment of the Early Bird Series at Sully. A decent turnout of Lasers, along with a variety of other boats, made for an exciting day on the water. Among them was new member Gary, who travelled down from Chepstow to take part in his first sail and race at Sully, aboard his Solution – drawn by the club’s reputation for top-quality sailing.

The breeze came in at a steady Force 3, gusting 4, with gusty and shifty offshore winds funnelling unpredictably over the land. Race Officer Carmel set a short upwind start followed by a port triangle course, which promised – and delivered – plenty of action.

Race 1:

Steve and Danny got off to the best start, with the usual hail of “Port! Port!” ringing out across the start line. Gary, in his Solution, rounded the first mark in third place, closely chased by Jason and Andy. Meanwhile, in the Slow fleet, Key – with a new crew onboard – took an early lead, followed by Trevor.

A tight battle unfolded between Steve, Danny, and Gary, all neck and neck until Jason executed a neat inside move on Danny to claim second place on that lap. However, the Solution was thwarted by the first gybe mark, which allowed the three Lasers to extend their lead.

The second lap saw fierce competition to the finish line. Danny led, but Jason’s clever port-starboard manoeuvre brought him right back into contention. In a nail-biting finish, Danny just managed to pip Jason by a single second. Gary followed in third, with Key next, and Tryggvi in the Topaz not far behind, learning the ropes but benefiting from the tide to chase down Trevor, while Andy gradually pulled ahead.

Race 2:

As the wind picked up, several boats retired after the first race, leading to a smaller fleet and a more subdued second race. Nevertheless, the competition between Steve and Jason remains fierce as they continue to battle for series supremacy, with Steve holding the early advantage after securing two wins.

Overall, it was an exciting day on the water, marked by strong performances, close racing, and some clever tactical moves – with many looking forward to next week’s continuation of the series.

Results

Earlybird Series – 2nd March 2025

Jason was the only sailor who turned up! With the agreement of the race crew who all were present Steve volunteered to sail and make it a race. In the blazing sun and a surprisingly strong F2 from the east the races were decided by the back tide, seaweed and holes in the wind and Steve got the better of them to win both by a small margin. Thanks to Alun and Trev who manned the Jeanneau and to Trev for the photo.

Results

Transom Series Finale – 15 December 2024

It was a murky windy day, but warmer than of late, and 5 sailors opted to sail once the tide had come in off the mud. It was a challenging launch and Chris H decided to opt out after being swept in by the waves for a second time. Trevor and Helen did a stirling job in the surf and the other 4 got through the waves into the choppy water beyond.

Andrew and Steve fought it out on the first beat until Andrew hit the mark in the strong tide, capsized doing a turn and let Steve get away. Jason caught up while Andrew was sorting himself out but also came a cropper in the tide. Meanwhile Trevor was finding it easier to jump out to turn the Topaz through a tack despite the waves on the shore.

Meanwhile the second mark was heading for Sully Island and in the low visibility Steve wouldn’t have found it if it hadn’t been in the direction of the best screaming reach. After two laps though, Patrick in the race office decided the buoy was not going to stay in Sully Bay so finished the race to allow Mark B and Danny C in the tiny Jeanneau to laboriously haul up the anchor and chain, re-lay it and then everyone (except Steve) decided that they had had enough.

So, another win for Steve, with Andrew 2nd ahead of Jason, and Trevor a lap behind in 4th, but heading for the shore to help everyone to recover their boats. Many thanks to the volunteers, especially Mark and Danny freezing and hauling up anchors in the Jeanneau in quite a choppy sea, and Helen helping Trevor recover the boats in 5 foot waves.

Results overall stay the same, with Steve 1st, Neil 2nd and Lawrence 3rd. There was only one other qualifier, Danny C, who finished a creditable 4th.

Results

Transome Series – 24th November 2024

Three gallant sailors, ‘gainst the tempest bold,
Didst brave the wind, the waves, the rain untold.
The wind, a force of four, but rain more fierce,
With Steve and Neil in Lasers, Nigel’s pierce.
Steve from the start didst lead the valiant race,
Till Neil’s wind hole didst change his fateful chase.
The Lasers both, by handicap, prevailed,
But not the Topper’s sailor’s grip assailed.
In second contest Neil didst first depart,
With Nigel next, and Steve with troubled art.
Though Steve pursued, by third lap’s windward trail,
Again, his mainsheet’s knot did him assail.
Yet undeterred, he Neil chased, force five’s gust,
Till Neil’s capsize did grant him chance in trust.
Freed mainsheet’s snare, but Neil too swift did rise,
Steve’s narrow mark round did him there apprise.
And Nigel’s gain by handicap was known,
The frozen crew’s thanks shone as they had shown.
Thus ended Steve’s first run, yet series led,
With Neil and Andrew trailing in his stead.

Results

Transom Series – 17th November 2024

The Shifting Tides of the Transom Series
As narrated by David Attenborough

On this brisk November morning, where the tides had shifted the very plans of the fleet, the sailors assembled earlier than anticipated. The air hummed with an eager energy, a balmy 8°C and a modest breeze flirting with 10 knots, whispering promises of stronger gusts to come. Nature’s drama was poised to unfold in two riveting acts of the Transom Series.


Race 1: A Quiet Awakening

As the clock struck 9:45, the fleet ventured into the watery arena. Among them: a Comet, two Lasers, and the ever-enthusiastic Topaz sailors, Danny and Chris. The race commenced with a tentative opening. Steve, with a hunter’s precision, seized the lead from the start, leaving others scrambling in his wake.

Danny, ever the adventurer, decided to stir the waters with an unexpected capsize, introducing a ripple of excitement. Lawrence, seizing the opportunity, surged ahead while Chris crept closer, emboldened by the chaos.

By the second lap, the fleet had tightened. Steve, the alpha of this particular pod, exchanged words of wisdom with Carmel as she valiantly fought to close the gap. Despite her spirited efforts, Steve’s dominance remained unchallenged. Over four laps, his lead stretched like the wings of a gliding albatross, securing him a decisive victory, with Carmel trailing valiantly behind.


Race 2: A Battle of Wits and Will

The second act began with a flourish. Despite a surprise plunge into the chilly waters during the start sequence, Carmel emerged undeterred, her resolve burning brightly. The fleet gathered at the start line like creatures vying for space at a watering hole, each plotting their course with calculated intent.

Lawrence, bold as a lion, attempted a Port flyer but found himself wrestling with Steve on Starboard. Meanwhile, Carmel, like a cunning fox, exploited the distraction to sneak past, snapping at Steve’s heels and forcing him to divert his course.

Danny, lurking inshore with the patience of a crocodile, pursued Lawrence with steady determination. Chris, charting a different course, found himself entangled in the winds and tides, overstanding his mark and allowing Danny to slither ahead.

Downwind, Carmel closed in on Steve, their battle akin to predator and prey, separated by mere seconds. Yet the shifty breeze and fickle tides demanded constant vigilance. As Danny played his part in the drama with yet another capsize—this time swimming after a rogue boat cap—Lawrence and Chris gained ground. Chris, beleaguered by capsizes and a drifting bung, conceded to the elements.

In the end, it was Steve and Carmel who showcased the wisdom of the ages: slow, steady, and error-free wins the race. Carmel’s perseverance nearly unseated the reigning champion, but Steve’s seasoned tactics secured him another victory. Lawrence followed in third, with Danny, bruised but unbowed, bringing up the rear.


Epilogue

And so, the morning’s races concluded. The fleet disbanded, their spirits buoyed by the camaraderie of competition and the ever-changing drama of wind and tide. In this watery wilderness, every sailor played their part, each a vital thread in the intricate tapestry of the day. For now, the waters rest, until they are stirred once more by the call of the next race.

Results

Transom Series – 10th November 2024

A tale of whispered promises, languid breezes, and the slow, inevitable passage of time.

In the still and misted silence of an autumn afternoon, a group of sailors gathered by the water’s edge, their voices hushed as if aware that nature itself did not favor their designs. The wind, barely perceptible, seemed to mock the very notion of movement. Nevertheless, after much debate, Neil and Andrew, with a resigned nobility, resolved to honor the sea with their presence. It was high water at 13:06, but nature had dealt them neap tides and winds reluctant to fill the sails.

Four Lasers, a Comet, and a Varga took to the starting line, a silent flotilla entrusted to Nick Speller, the Officer of the Day, who bore the gravity of a man presiding over fate itself. With Alan and Dave Brennan watching from the safety launch, they laid a modest course—a triangle pointing like a futile spear towards the Barry pin. The wind, SSE at a mere 4 knots, wavered like the final breath of a dying giant.

Lawrence, aboard the noble Comet, was the first to break free, moving at the stroke of the clock with a fragile optimism. But the rumors of a back eddy, whispered like old folktales around the shore, soon proved illusory. Lawrence, clutching at a specter of promised currents, found himself swept inexorably westward, his progress doomed to merge with the memories of other ill-fated voyagers.

Behind him, the remaining fleet made a slow and solemn advance, a determined drift more than a sail. Their attempt to hug the shore became a tentative waltz of pirouettes and desperate tacks, each sailor wrestling with sails that seemed to taunt them in their silent defiance. Neil, with grim determination, took an arc long and wide, his strategy rewarded only by reaching the first mark with a barely noticeable grace, punctuated by a curious on-deck limbo—a feat worthy of myth had there been any speed to it.

But time, that relentless master, showed no mercy. As the clock drew closer to the dreaded finish, there was a sense among those onshore, and perhaps on the water itself, of dreams dying. Positions were tallied: Neil first, then Andrew, Trevor, Jason, and lastly, Lawrence, left to ponder the cruel fate of unfounded rumors.

The second race commenced with a course shortened even further, a silent admission of mortal helplessness in the face of the day’s whims. Paint might have dried faster than the boats’ progress, had the sea but permitted any movement at all. Jason’s miscalculation of the back tide led him to drift behind the start line, a slip that did not go unnoticed by the wry smile of the race officer, as he recalled the errant sailor with a wave that felt more like a benediction than a reproach.

As the fleet inched, crept, and lingered toward the first mark, there came an unexpected spectacle, as improbable as a mirage in the desert. Jason, who had thus far seemed a model of quiet perseverance, found himself drawn into an inexplicable turn of fate. At the windward mark—where the air was as still as a forgotten dream—his boat tilted, wobbled, and then, as if some ghostly hand had taken hold, slowly capsized. In the stunned silence that followed, only the faintest ripple marked this descent, as though the water itself were reluctant to record such an absurdity. Jason later confessed he hoped his mishap might remain unspoken, a secret between sailor and sea, and Nick, the Officer of the Day, replied with a distant gaze, admitting he wasn’t entirely certain if he’d witnessed the event at all or had perhaps slipped into some strange hallucination induced by the endless calm.

Neil took the lead once more, resolute and unyielding, his form dark and steadfast against the stillness of the water, maintaining this course for what felt an eternity.

And at last, as the minutes stretched, the second race ground to a reluctant halt, Neil victorious and Lawrence—tireless, undaunted—bringing up the rear.

And so the day drew to a close, its spirit lingering like the sigh of an ancient poet. The sailors returned, silent and stoic, each bearing the mark of a race that asked of them patience and fortitude far beyond the measure of mere endurance. It was a tale to be told around firesides, a fable of slow waters and fleeting hope—a tragedy in every sense.