The
Dinghy
Cruising
Association

Articles

What is a dinghy?
Former DCA President Peter Bick makes a gentle dig at those members who sail something slightly bigger!

Sleeping Aboard
DCA member 0002 John Deacon describes the joys of sleeping on a 14'dinghy and John Reeve gives good advice on boat camping techniques

A Steel Centreplate for Jacona!
Ken Dickinson writes about the installation of a heavy steel centreplate in his Wanderer dinghy.

The Crabclaw Rig
Bernie Stocks writes in appreciation of the Crabclaw Rig!

The Not so Secret Diary of Edward Jones -
aged 65 and three quarters!
Ted Jones describes a cruise around the Thames Estuary

A Farne Islands Pilot
Ed Wingfield shares his knowledge of these magical islands off Lindisfarne on the NE coast of the UK. Not a cruising region for the faint hearted but well worth the effort.

A Lindisfarne (Holy Island) Pilot
More gen from Ed Wingfield on this beautiful stretch of England's North Eastern Coast.

Dinghy Cruising Check list
People leave home and trail miles to their crusing ground, only to find that they've left a vital piece of equipment back at base. I've often forgotten the sail battens, and the binoculars but I read of someone who left the rudder behind. Make a checklist! Here's a basic check list which you can modify according to your own needs.

Which Dinghy?
... find the 'right' cruising dinghy?

Roger's Reefing Refinement.

....an elegant refinement to the slab reefing system, as applied by DCA president Roger 'Bailer' Barnes.

Huntingford's Helm Impeder

Published by popular demand, here is a simple and cheap way of contolling the helm while you pour a drink, have pee, harpoon a whale....

South Coast Region Newsletter Archive
Liz Baker keeps the South Coast members informed with a regular newsletter. The originals are very nicely presented with appropriate graphics etc. This presentation is echoed in the web version, but preserved in its entirety on the pdf download versions.

There comes a time in every dinghy sailor's life when he has the urge to get up and go somewhere away from his usual sailing grounds. If one gives way to this urge, and more people do every year, then the question arises - where shall we sleep?

The first three or four times the boat is probably left moored somewhere overnight and the occupants return home, coming back the following day. This gets a bit tedious for a cruise of any length and limits the scope. Too much time is spent travelling and so eventually, one decides not to return home. Hotels etc. may be out of the question and so the answer is either to camp ashore or in the boat.

The size and type of boat may not be suitable for sleeping aboard. Some dinghies are known to leak, in spite of their loving owner's strong denials, and sea water makes a poor bed companion. If the boat lacks an awning then the expense will not warrant the beginner or very occasional dinghy cruiser buying one. Anyone can beg, borrow or 'appropriate' a small tent and it is mainly for this reason that camping ashore is so popular. If a crowd are cruising together or a fixed base is required then tents ashore win every time, but for serious passage making, where it is important to catch the tides, and not waste time decamping and transporting equipment, then sleeping aboard is the only answer.

The actual camping technique once ashore is standard and details may be obtained from any book on camping. It is advisable to carry enough fresh water for a couple of days. Being independent of water supply greatly increases the choice of camp sites. One or more 'Primus' or similar stoves is a necessity. Fuel for fires is seldom plentiful and camp fires are never welcome by landowners. Permission to camp on private land should always be obtained first from the owner. Most owners appreciate thanks on leaving and will normally extend their welcome again. Great care should betaken to leave the site in as good as, or better condition than it was found. If permission to camp is refused it is normally possible to find a piece of waste ground along the shore. I have actually pitched tents a few inches below the level of High Water Springs when on a neap tide.

The biggest snag with camping ashore is getting there complete with gear. At low water this may entail ploughing across a couple of hundred yards of mud. The best way of overcoming this is to arrive when the tide is high. If only occasional weekend camping is contemplated then chose the weekends which have high water in the evening.

Even with the most careful planning there will eventually come a time when the tide is missed. When this is the case, concentrate on getting ashore first and look for a camp site afterwards. It is far more pleasant to land on a beach and carry the gear half a mile than wade with it through fifty yards of mud. Look for quays, jetties or shingle bars. Of the three the shingle is probably best. Anyone who has tried to climb up twelve feet of slimy vertical wall will verify this. Care should be taken to allow enough warp for ris e and fall of tides, if mooring along a quay. It is also wise to make sure that the boat won't foul up on anything in rising and falling. I had a nasty turn when, on returning to my boat one closing time I found it suspended by its bowsprit. If there is no obvious way ashore the it is wise to try some of the lesser creeks which may have dried out. Being scoured by the tide these usually have a firm bed and may lead ashore. It is also possible to walk on most saltings without sinking although these do tend to scratch bare legs.

What of facing the mud itself? This can be done and one may be lucky in the choice of route. The mud in the Solent area seldom comes above the knees; but have you tried traversing same while laden with equipment? Nothing delights the local populace more than a 'humanopotamus' wallowing in the local mire. If after entertaining the crowd, the heap of mud finally makes 'terra firma', it is quite likely that the local will be barred on account of his condition. The thirst tortured soul is forced to return from whence he or she came, for a drink of water. Every area has its own particular brand of mud. They vary in both colour and texture, and some of an odour all their own. Local advice regarding the depth of mud should be viewed with suspicion. A member in the Bristol Channel, wishing to make the local 'beauty spot' before it closed sought advice from a waterman regarding the possibility of walking ashore. On receiving an affirmative nod he buckled on his rucksac and hurried over the side, straight up to his thighs - and the mud in that area has to be seen to be believed. He did finally make the shore I'm glad to say - and the waterman? No, he'd never really seen anyone walk on it before, although seagulls . . .

Having reached the shore - nil desperandum , there is the question of mooring the boat. Some people are quite content to heave the anchor overboard and hope for the best, ignoring the fact that they may nor be able to reach the boat afterwards without a swim. If the wind is offshore then the boat may be anchored and a stern line led slackly to the shore. If the wind is onshore or likely to change, then it is useful to employ the old fisherman's dodge. This entails fastening a length of light line to the crown of the anchor and resting it precariously on the foredeck. The boat is then given a hard push away from the shore. When far enough out the line is used to jerk the anchor overboard. It is used again to pull the anchor in when requiring the boat.. Well, what are you waiting for? Throw your tent, fleabag, and tins of bully beef into the bilge and get under way. I'm right behind you. Now where did I put my awning?

From stories of cruises that I have enjoyed in the Bulletins, I get the impression that some of us live 'rough' while aboard. If necessary, I too can live 'rough' but I see no virtue in denying any comfort to be had within the limitations of a dinghy; nothing superfluous, simplicity must be the keynote.

My three-quarter decked dinghy has a canvas cover thrown over the boom. The cover extends over the well and side decks leaving a little deck fore and aft on which I can squat and admire a sunset after dinner or dry myself after a morning swim. Extending the cover to full beam not only gives more elbow room but makes the side decks available as shelves, invaluable when clearing the boards to find room to sleep. I have eyelets along the ridge of the cover so that the boom can be left outside should the mainsail be dripping wet. Usually I wrap the cloth and mainsheet round the boom, bend a cord about the middle and wear the cover over the top. No doubt a cover on hoops like a camping skiff gives the greatest comfort but I will not carry the hoops; when finance permits, the possibilities of pneumatic hoops will be investigated. My cover is dark green but when I buy another it will be a lighter colour because I would like it to be brighter inside especially when the dawn brings rain and I stay below until the eighteen hundreds forecast. On one occasion my crew polished every piece of brass inside until all were suitable for shaving! When sailing in fair weather, the cover is folded to the size of the after thwart - perhaps a handy marker for a man overboard. In unsettled weather, I have left the cover laced to one side draped over the side deck and into the boat; under this can be tucked the radio and other gear I prefer to protect, including me if there is a lot of rain at a time when the tiller can be left.

There are two thwarts in my dinghy and the one under the tiller I have made removable; this gives more room for beds and the thwart makes a firm table when fitted across the side deck. When first considering sleeping aboard, the slope of the floor towards the keel was a concern, but in fact, this only tips me against the plate case which I find surprisingly comfortable. Since I can no longer enjoy sleeping on boards, I have tried several suitable softeners. The most obvious is the air bed and I recommend this to anyone who can sleep on one, for surely it must be the most convenient in a small space. For me they are either too full and I roll about or too soft and I feel the boards: I can never get one just right. If a thin mattress could be found about eighteen inches wide and long enough to extend from the armpits to just about the hips, it would be ideal, but how to store it is the problem. When aboard for about two days I notice the hardness of mahogany so I have decided to indulge in a cushion to live on the after thwart under the cover. This cushion-come-mattress must have a waterproof cover, for a squelching bed isn't my idea of 'living'. It could also do with handles on the side for a life buoy and I favour a foam rubber interior. As an alternative I have considered a hammock but I am afraid the ends of my dinghy might come together under the strain. I also carry a blanket wrapped in an old oilskin primarily for first aid against shock. When folded to the size of the miniature mattress it also makes a good bed from which my daughter has been heard to snore peacefully, but age must be relevant to beds because my six year old son spends ten hours on the bare boards without raising an eyelid!

For my bed, which I have carried on my back, my bicycle and in a canoe, I insist there is no substitute for real down. I still have the bag my mother made for me when I was a scout. It contains two pounds of down, then twenty shillings a pound. Recently I have bought a down filled sleeping suit, ex-government stock, which is also excellent. A half inflated Mae West serves as a pillow and I need an alarm clock if I am to catch an early tide. Incidentally, an alarm clock is very useful for catching weather forecasts, if one can be acquired which is small and can put up with the conditions. If the bedding could be stuffed into the flotation bags, its weight could have little effect on its buoyancy and its bulk would disappear. For the storage of such light and bulky items I think there is a case for rigid tanks with waterproof hatches but I cannot think how to make them. My substitute is a pair of small rubberised kit bags, one of which holds my bedding and spare clothes which is then slid, open end first into the second bag. Force is needed to remove the air which gets trapped inside. Although I have never had to prove it, I am sure it would give many pounds of buoyancy for many hours. In my dinghy there is room for two of these bundles under he centre thwart, one each side of the case. A cord holding then clear of the floor boards increases the air tightness and secures them to the boat for flotation.

A glass of ale or tea and a bun is my limit for on shore eating. All my main meals are aboard and, apart from stores, I cruise independently. When I am attracted to a quaint old hotel, it is my budget that sends me back to the dinghy. Paraffin is my source of heat, a spirit stove is not good enough and, although bottle gas can now be had in small containers I am not sure that I could obtain a refill in Newtown Creek but paraffin is always available. If I carried an outboard, a petrol stove would be preferable because it would avoid me carrying both paraffin and petrol. My galley is made from two aluminium boxes each having three sides and a bottom. When one is inverted it nests into the other and forms a closed box for a Primus and a can of spirit. The boxed are made so that standing on top of each other their sides interlock. In this a tall box with a top, bottom and three sides can be made. Two removable rods fit across the box a little below the top to form a rack for warming plates and keeping bacon hot while the eggs are frying. Between the rack and the Primus is space for the largest utensil. The tall box also shelters the stove, reduces the danger from a flare up and provides a warm surface on which to dry a towel.

My most important piece of galley equipment is a small pressure cooker, invaluable if serious eating is to be considered. In half an hour it will fix you a wonderful stew or if you are frying a steak, it will not only cook you an appetising dish of fresh vegetables, but will warm you a tin of soup or pudding and keep it all piping hot whilst the meat is fried. When the main dish is served, the pressure cooker without lid heats the water for washing up and later becomes the bowl as well. When stowed a cap over the vent makes it buoyant so that its weight would not be a liability in an emergency. Apart from the inevitable frying pan my other utensil is an aluminium tea pot. This is used for boiling water for shaving and for instant coffee as well as making tea, the leaves being thrown in on the boiling water. I do not claim this improves my shaving but admit that it affects the coffee. I would like to use ground coffee but a common pot for this is hopeless, perhaps instant tea is the solution.

If strategically positioned, the cook can perform his duties, enjoy his own meal and wash up without moving his seat. In my dinghy it is a rule that the stove goes one side of the centreboard case and legs the other, the possibility of scalding water is too real. I carry a high utility plastic beaker per head. With a little warm detergent water handy it is used for soup, wine sweet, coffee and a nip of brandy at one sitting. In the morning it may see tea, shaving water and the underside of half a grapefruit - a wonderful piece of multi-purpose equipment.

For a larder I have a box, without a lid, which slides under the aft thwart. It has rope handles and a water tight bottom that I kid myself will look after its own load in a swamped boat. In the larder are tins or preferably aluminium containers about as high as the box. These form dividers between rashers and detergent, bread and ripe tomatoes. The whole thing can be victualled before leaving home and all can be removed for a big clean up after each trip. Across the bulkhead of my stern locker I have a cord in eyelets arranged to keep upright odd bottles, beer cans and thermos flasks handy for a preheated mug of soup or to keep milk fresh and cold. With luck, when the after thwart is in the table position, all ingredients for a meal are visible and fumbling reduced to a minimum. For water I have a one gallon rigid plastic bottle although I am not sure that a strong plastic bag used like a mediaeval goat skin might not be easier to stow.

If a snatched meal is anticipated, a piece of boiled bacon or tin of salmon makes a good sandwich, better still with a lettuce leaf. In an emergency there is always cheese, apple and a can of beer, the empties being stowed with other garbage until disposed of tidily. In a disaster there is chocolate in my Mae West. About every twelve hours eating should be taken seriously with plenty of fruit and meat with a little wine if you are indulged that way. One day I may grow tired of grapefruit, eggs, bacon, and tomatoes, Ryvita with marmalade and a pot of tea but it has not happened yet.

Variety at supper depends on the number of days out from the last butcher. I prefer my steaks grilled but never object to one from the pan after a good day's sailing. From the pressure cooker comes appetising stews even when tinned beef is a necessity. If fresh meat is available then fry it quickly both sides before it goes in the pot. Small tins are the best source for sweets although dried fruit is very useful and easy to carry if the soaking problem can be overcome with a screw top container. A melon is a favourite of my crew and if half eaten can be stowed in a plastic bag.

I am sure that, while there are sheltered moorings I would not go back to a tent. In fact, each time I see a field beyond the mud, I sing: - "I wouldn't leave my little wooden boat for you!"