Those early years

Introduction

We all have to start somewhere. Some of us are lucky enough to be born into a sailing family. Others like myself discovered the joys of boating later, having never even read 'Swallows and Amazons' in my youth. I sometimes feel as if this lack of this formal education by Arthur Ramsome prevents me from graduating into a proper yachtsman. However I make up for it by introducing him to my offspring. Here is a piece from a lucky man who did grow up in Ransome land. Let's have some more contributions on how we started sailing.

Fred Barter Editor: TheMainSail.com

Those early years

My parents were keen sailing people. We, their offspring, were supposed to be keen sailing people too. That was the way things were.

In my earliest memories of sailing we are tacking parallel to the work shed next to the slipway at Paglesham. 'Ready about, lee ho', my father said in declamatory tones, as if the next course was another huge adventure. My sister (15 months my junior at two years old) and I would hop to the opposite seat in the cockpit as the boat turned.

When I was five I began my own expeditions in an Optimist and graduated a few years later to a Gull. These craft attracted the attention and the interest of other children so there was no shortage of willing crew members. 'Hoist the mainsail', 'Take care of that jib, now, it's flapping', we said in our best Arthur Ransome voices. We sailed the Crouch, the Blackwater, and even as far as Walton Backwaters (assisted by my father's yacht).

A round turn and two half hitches

It was not all plain sailing, though. As I got older I contemplated the heresy, particularly on the forty-five foot yacht, that maybe there was no pleasure in this at all. It was just a chore to steer, to haul up the mainsail, to set the jib or, at the end of a sail, put down the fenders and even jump ashore with the warp. There was respite; however, in our game of hanging onto the main halliard while we swung far out over the water until eventually we came to rest with our feet once again on the top safety line some five metres from our starting point.

We went to some wonderful places. I remember spending a week every year for many years running in St Katherine's Dock (and so had London as my playground). I also remember trips to the countries of the near continent, to the Channel Islands, to the Isles of Scilly and to Ireland.