Gales in all areas

Let’s have a giggle at the expense of the weather forecast. That element of boating you curse, blame, mishear, ignore, debunk, fear, doubt...and until relatively recently wouldn’t go to kip without sitting up all hours to listen to.

In 1976, Michael Green launched his The Art of Coarse Cruising. With chapters on the use of string in navigation and securing insane skippers, it has become one of the crown jewels of maritime literature.

“...A Coarse Cruise is dominated by weather forecasts. A Posh Yachtsman listens to the forecasts in the hope he will be able to sail. A Coarse Yachtsman listens to them in the hope they will render sailing impossible. In fact, the worst forecast for a Coarse Yachtsman is one in which the wind is strong, but just suitable for a passage by bold men (say six, gusting seven). This doesn’t matter if everyone is a Craven but sometimes part of the crew may insist on sailing. In that case step ashore for an alternative forecast. If you try long enough you’re sure to find one that’s bad enough. Or invent one, if necessary. Ring the AA or the local RAF station. Return with a large smirk on your face, and announce, “The coastal forecast said local gales, and the RAF anticipated sleet and Force Nines”. It’s a bold crew who will sail in the face of that.

I often feel I should apply for the post announcing the weather forecast. It’s that air of malevolent smugness with which the announce sits in his warm studio and after forecasting a Force Eleven adds, “Good night, gentlemen, and good sailing” to the poor souls groaning in some pitching cabin off the Nab Tower.

Often, of course, a weather station doesn’t know what is going on outside its window. I remember sailing past the Royal Sovereign one year as the radio reported: “Royal Sovereign. Force Two. Good. No precipitation”. In fact we were in the middle of a squall that had just blown off my hat, it was precipitating buckets and you could hardly see your hand in front of your face.

Askew was so enraged he waved his fist and shouted, “You’ve got it all wrong, you fools. Come outside and look for yourselves. Look at that rain. Do you call that good visibility?” Porky’s theory was that one of the crew was a malevolent man whose wife had run off with a sailor. We pictured him coming in with his oilskins streaming and announcing loudly, “No precipitation.” And then muttering,”That’ll teach they sailors”.

And I would like to know what they mean by that ominous statement: “Bell Rock. Not received.” It brings to mind a dreadful picture of a lighthouse full of dead men while the mad cook gibbers around, waving a knife and singing Abide with Me.

Once again the Automobile Association proves the Coarse Yachtsman’s best friend. I always find the most reliable weather information comes from the AA forecast for road conditions in the locality. Porky says we should have an AA badge on the front of the boat, but I think he’s being sarcastic…”