Volunteering

Having moved away from Carradale village, we promised ourselves that in our new location we would not take on any of the rather onerous community responsibilities that we had previously saddled ourselves with. We would do this by avoiding joining local committees, this being the route to over-commitment, and so far we have been successful in this.

But this does not rule out volunteering.

The local community trust that manages the remains of our village's ancient castle needs volunteers to help maintain the paths and surrounding gardens and this is a regular once a month activity that I seem to have talked myself into. Then of course there are the beach cleans - periodic organised attempts to remove human debris from a small area of our coastline - which we are happy to participate in. Then, quite suddenly and at short notice, a message appeared on a local social media page requesting help from 'someone with sailing experience'. How could I resist.

The Royal Yachting Association (RYA) provides a qualification for yacht skippers which is recognised throughout Europe, perhaps even further afield. This is essential for someone who wants to make commercial use of their boat, hiring it out for holidays or other adventures. To qualify fully as an RYA Yachtmaster requires passing a theory exam followed by a practical test of your ability to handle a vessel, something that includes giving appropriate directions to the boat's crew so that boat handling, manoeuvring, mooring, sailing, motoring, etc., is all carried out correctly and safely. On a sailing boat the practical part requires you to have at least two crew members to whom you can give directions and this was what the 'sailing experience' request was all about. As it happens, being a crew member for the exam is a role I have filled before so it seemed perfectly natural, therefore, for me to put myself forward for this once again. It turned out, however, that on this occasion there would be a few things I wasn't quite expecting, so it turned out to be quite an exciting day.

The first little twist was the weather. The forecast wind on the chosen day would have discouraged most sailors from leaving port - 25 knots or more with gusts of over 40 knots and torrential rain showers, albeit interspersed with bright sunshine. Along with this there was a sudden drop in temperature brought on by the north westerly wind coming down from somewhere closer to the Arctic Circle. I would certainly need all my wet weather sailing gear and many more layers of clothing than I had worn all summer. Added to this, however, was the fact that the qualification now requires the boat to be sailed and navigated at night, in total darkness, which explains why we left the shelter of the harbour around four o' clock in the afternoon. By this time what heat there was in the day was disappearing fast, being sucked away by the rain showers which kept sweeping down from the surrounding hills.

Once on board the yacht I was briefed by the skipper, a Belgian man called Robin, whose command of English was thankfully very good, and he was first asked by the examiner to do a series of manoeuvres around the marina before we set off to sea, bringing the boat safely alongside a pontoon so that the crew could step off with mooring lines and secure the boat. All went well with this so we then left the harbour where my job as crew, and after stowing away the fenders and mooring lines, was to raise the appropriate sails so the engine could be switched off and we could begin to make our way upwind to our eventual destination some ten miles away.

The sailing boat was normally sailed by just the skipper and his wife as crew, and at over forty feet in length this was a sizeable sailing cruiser on which they had been living for some years. The deep keel made her a powerful sailing boat, so long as the crew were strong enough to raise the heavy mainsail and tension the sheets on one or more of the headsails as well. Which of course was where I came in. My role on board was to act solely on the directions of the skipper, no matter what I might think should be done, since this was part of what he was being tested on for the RYA qualification. So as soon as we started sailing upwind, pounding into the short choppy seas with spray flying over the boat interspersed with the rain showers, my role was simply to hang on and keep my head down to avoid getting too wet.

After a few tacks we sailed into the shelter of an island where we were required to anchor the boat, manoeuvring completely under sail, which again our skipper managed quite successfully. Once anchored the sails were lowered, but not for long as we then set off again, raising the sails once more as the boat leapt about in the waves, to continue our passage up the loch to reach a more sheltered stopping place known locally as Otter Ferry. I have sailed a variety of boats, some big, some small, so none of this was beyond my experience but it was, nevertheless, one of the most exciting bits of sailing I have done for a long time. I took a turn on the helm as we powered our way northwards at over six knots, the boat heeled over as the gusts blasted in, and I was impressed by the way she handled herself such conditions. I was less impressed by the bucketloads of spray that kept drenching me and my fellow crew member and I could feel the heat gradually seeping from my body as the night closed in. But despite all this we made it to our mooring just as the last of the remaining daylight slipped away.  

I think we were all rather relieved when having secured the boat to a mooring buoy we could go down below into the shelter of the saloon where dinner was being heated up for us. Warmth gradually returned to our bodies and we could hear the wind had moderated outside so perhaps our journey home might be a little less fraught. Before we could do this, however, the skipper's next task was to sail the boat into another small harbour, this time docking in total darkness alongside a pontoon without the help of the engine. For those who are not aware, sailing boats do not have brakes. So the only way to come alongside safely is to lower the sails at precisely the right moment and let the boat's momentum carry you slowly in until close enough for your crew step off and get the mooring lines secured to stop any further motion. There is no turning round and trying again if you get it wrong, no second chance, and if you don't get the boat close enough the crew should never fearlessly leap across the gap onto the dock - there is too much chance of something going wrong with this. I am happy to report that our skipper judged things perfectly and it all went without a hitch, the boat coming to a stop at precisely the right point.

Sailing back home was a downwind run, uneventful in the lighter wind and the clouds had also rolled away revealing a beautiful starlit night with a faint glow from the aurora to the north. It was now after midnight and by this point the cold had penetrated all the extra clothing I had put on so when our home port finally came in sight it was most welcome. My job for the day would soon be over. All in all I found the experience exhausting but very satisfying and the skipper and his partner seemed grateful that everything had gone so well.

More importantly this seems to show that even sailing opportunities can be found simply by volunteering.