Richard's Bay 2005 log by Malcolm

Yup – there we have it – one particularly busy day at the office, while surfing the web and checking out sailing sites, I come across a notice on Windsurfingsa.co.za for a “soul sailing” trip over Easter. Venue was selected to be Richards Bay, fiendishly chosen to coincide with the Easter weekend mad rush with the rest of the Vaalies to the sea. Most of the Bronkies crew decide to depart for RB on Thursday. Unlike those plonkers, I could not get off work (someone has to keep the wheels of industry turning) and therefore had to incorporate into the Easter weekend the travel time to and from Richards Bay – biiiiiiig mistake and one not to be repeated. When I phoned Phillip on Thursday evening for a wind update, I was relieved to hear that there had been no wind and that I had not missed anything.

The crew – The Bronkies regulars and some others - Phillip (Mountain Man), Roberto (the Italian Stallion), Spillo (the terror), Race-Mode Julian, Gabi (five dumps a day ain’t enough), Roy (Die Pastoor and charmer of senior ladies), Palm top Lourens, Brother Louis (aka Modern Talking), Tarifa Pieter, Rasper Casper Paul (all the way from CT), Adrian (Buzz) and Kendall (miss congeniality), Clive and sons and a coupla others from Durbs.

The venue – Richards Bay yacht club.  Sailing spots at RB yacht club consist of :

• the speed strip immediately in front of the yacht club – this works in S to SW winds which blow over the sand bar, although the yachts moored in the channel cause patches of wind-shadow. Things to watch out for – submerged bits of concrete at low tide, fishing lines and aggro pap-gooiers when tacking too close to shore.
• sailing in the bay (reached by traversing the boat channel on board or across sand bar on foot) – this works in the NE winds – conditions are choppy with some swell coming through the gap in the harbour breakwater. At low tide, the swell forms smallish breaking waves to the east side of the bay. Relatively flat water gybing at the beach side. Things to watch out for – large ore carriers, fishing boats, johnnies and other sailors.

Summary of conditions we experienced during the weekend :

• Thursday – according to Paul he got planing once or twice on a 9.5sq.m rig and 150 l board. Verdict - doesn’t count and therefore crap.
• Friday – nothing except a couple of afternoon gusts at 12 knots from the NE. Verdict - not quite as crap as Thursday, but frustrating nevertheless.
• Saturday – Southerly all day at about 5 knots. Verdict – kak !
• Sunday – gusty, peaking at 15 knots NE in early afternoon, nice swell, some of us got some good planing on 130 liter slalom / freeride boards and 7 to 8 sq.m sails. Julian got 24 knots measured off  his GPS using formula board and 10.5 sq.m sail (cheat !).
• Monday – peaking to 20 knots NE in morning, conditions variable whole day but gusting to 20 knots allowing short(er) board sailing.

When queried about the general lack of wind experienced over the five day period, Phillip (who is an Easter regular at RB) came up with some lame excuse that Easter was earlier this year, falling in March instead of April. Hmmmm…….

Friday :

I left gansta’s paradise at 3AM on Friday morning, early enough supposedly to miss the hordes headed south and east. Crap feeling in the knowledge that the other buggers had already arrived in RB the previous day and were klapping z’s. It was an interesting trip :

• Zooting around a corner on the N4 through Witbank in the pitch black of pre-dawn only to be confronted with debris and an unrecognisable wreck lying on its roof in the left hand lane. Nothing like a game of pre-dawn dodgem cars !
• 200 km of crap road and dense fog between Middleburg and Paulpietersburg. Travelling at 50km/h and keeping an eye out for wayward minibuses and cows
• Two police road blocks (good thing) in KZN
• Potholes (very bad thing) – notice how it’s easier to put up a “potholes”’ sign than fix the damn things ?
• More cows and goats

Arriving at the RB yacht club, the first impression I had was that of a plakker’s camp what with all the tents and camping gear strewn around. Also obvious were the trailers stacked with windsurfing gear including a large amount of formula stuff. Richards Bay yacht club is a cool setup – nice shady camp sites, large grass area for easy rigging (easy on the feet and butt too), easy access to the water down a sandy “slipway”, braai spots under the trees overlooking the water, shower at rigging area, hosepipe to clean equipment, decent sized pool (although with slightly greenish tinge, supposedly from all the kiddies), restaurant and pub at water’s edge (beer and wind!). However, the one sobering aspect was being confronted with several notice boards at water’s edge noting  “Beware of crocodiles” accompanied by a sinister pic of a “smiling” croc. According to some of those in the know, a wayward hippo had to be darted and removed from the yacht club last year.

Joined Phillip and Roberto for a greasy breakfast and caught up with all the do’s and don’ts of sailing at RB. After breakfast a quick equipment inventory check was done. Surprise – Gabi had only brought along 4 sails this time ! Ah, and who is this who approaches fresh from a rough night spent in the air-conditioned luxury of the Mzingazi Waterfront Suites – slit eyes and in full on race mode – it’s Julian, body tense, ready to kick into action at the first sign of wind. Do a bit of catching up with Paul who advises that this year so far has been one of extreme wind in Cape Town – as if we needed to know (that’s why they’re being punished with a drought !).

Checked out the Gabi/Paul/Louis tent set-up. Call that camping ? Electric kettle, laptops, lights, women etc. Looked like a bunch of Sandton picnickers. Gabi, egged on by Paul, reverses his car, opens boot and starts to play that Indo-Hungarian kak (“……hurry hurry eat my rice and curry……) last heard at Sterkies. Not a good start to the weekend – I’m sure this angered the wind gods and we paid for it for the rest of the weekend. It was agreed by all those present (and those who have anything slightly better than kak music taste) that this piece of crap will be offered up in burnt form to appease the wind gods prior to the next sailing session.

No wind yet, therefore time to stock up on beer and ice ! How’s that for a blond thing ? – went to town on an Easter Friday to buy some dop. Anyway, the stroll through the shopping center was oddly fascinating - I guess inbreeding is one of RB’s favourite past times. Mullet city with many dodgy characters around. Cool tunes over the central sound system bru - I think it was “Karika does RB” or something.

We arrive back at the yacht club in time to witness the first fits of frenzy as the wind starts to pick up and the level of rigging activity intensifies. Much advice is dispensed by all and sundry as to what the correct trimming settings for the various sails are. One consistent aspect of this advice was that it was all inconsistent. Neutral outhaul versus positive outhaul versus negative outhaul versus 2cm more downhaul vs. looseness of leach vs. IMCS mast ratings vs. fin size vs. the fact that 15 knots at sea level is not the same as 15 knots at 4,000ft and that the salt water increases buoyancy but also (apparently) increases the slip factor on the board’s deck. All of that is compounded by questions such as what bloody mast foot placement is correct and where the hell does one put one's harness lines……. Phillip rigs his 7.5sq.m cambered race sail. I rig my 8sq.m RAF Supersonic but downhaul a bit too much as the pucker factor gets the better of me (first time in RB). Phillip gets planning earlier, I get frustrated quicker. Other guys rig 9.5 sq.m and bigger sails and get planning all the time on their super-wide formula boards and 70cm fins – bollocks !

The trip out to the bay through the boat channel can be fun. The NE wind comes across the island and you get planning quite quickly on the very flat water. Only to be unceremoniously back winded and dumped just as you exit the channel because of the wind swirl around the end of the breakwater. Thoughts of sharks and crocs make for quick uphaul action.

I notice a local weather phenomenon (dark clouds) following Gabi around – he’s the moer-in because he had to borrow a boom from Julian. His large boom was on his 9.5sq.m rig which Paul was using. He needed a smaller boom for his 8.5sq.m sail but didn’t have one. Julian kindly gave him some piece of kak which had a suspect clamp which meant that it kept slipping down the mast, ending up at knater hoogte, which, I believe, can be quite uncomfortable. Gabi should’ve used all that space usually reserved for 10 sails to pack in a coupla more booms. And so we realise that every day is a learning experience……

We finished off the day with sundowners at the pub. Time was spent regaling each other with horror shark stories. Apparently there are some large men in grey suits who hang around in the bay. The water is slightly murky from all the rivers in the area dumping mud into the sea. If that wasn’t bad enough, one of the locals (who provides boat support for divers who repair the underwater pipes) tells us about all the nasties (even nastier than sharks) being pumped into the sea from Foscor and Mondi. Had dinner at the yacht club – good grub but the 2 hour wait had us consuming our stomach linings as hors d’ovres.

Saturday :

Wake up Saturday morning, quick dip in pool and proceed with early morning observations :

• Roy alone in car – steamy windows !!
• Cacophony of farts emanating from Gabi / Paul’s love nest
• Lourens, wife and friends looking miff having been blown awake by the aforementioned activities in the tent next door
• Intense group discussion session about what the wind forecast holds for us today
• Greasy breakfast no. 2, followed by odd stomach sensations.
• We take Spillo for a walk along the beach at low tide. The whole beach seems to be moving ! Crabs ! as lively as a defiled toilet cubicle at a cheap strip joint (so they tell me). I’ve never seen so many of the little blighters. Makes one think when wading around in ankle deep water.

For all the speculation and forecasting, the day commenced and ended with no wind and therefore very little sailing – not even the big board boys – he he ! The element of frustration was substantial. Our frustration was dulled somewhat by sending Louis out to learn how to flare gybe. First try was on Roy’s board (Mistral long board). We assumed this was alright with Roy until his mutterings about “how times have changed and I never borrowed other people’s rigs in my days” got unbearable. Lesson #1 – always wash your fellow sailor’s sail after having borrowed it ! We were also enthralled with the vain attempts of some attempting freestyle sailing on an old Windsurfer One Design board. The rail ride is the one that has always fascinated me – why would someone put themselves in a position where the slip of a foot could have very dire consequences ? Julian pulled out a new move called the “old Man’s hang ten”. It goes like this – get a one design board, call your buds to watch, place your 4-year old laaitie on the front, issue instructions for said laaitie to dangle feet over the edge, sheet in sail, accelerate to 2 knots and presto ! There you have it.

All the boaters are out – varying from 2 x 250hp outboard monsters to single engined half-inflated rubber ducks all towing bits and pieces. We watched with great interest as one loskop moron towed his bud who was lying on what can only be called a pancake-shaped water thingy. The wind got beneath this thingy and we had lift off ! But…….Houston we have a problem – no directional stability and, as the one side dropped, an unrecoverable side-slip was entered and down went our friend with a bang. He did look like he got hurt but then again brandy and coke does tend to dull the pain a bit. He, he, he.

Saturday evening again starts with sundowners followed by a cosy little braai next to the water. Julian, atoning for the sins of race mode the previous day, sponsors the wors. The largest bread roll is reserved for Roy as a matter of respect and Phillip scores first with the arrival of an unsolicited PS chocolate bar !!

As we sit around the fire, the music starts pumping across the waters from the disco near the harbour. The decision is made by the two budding bachelors (Phil and Roberto) that the time has come to take RB by the scruff of the neck and show the locals some cool Josey moves on the dance floor. The plan is set in place – first a shower to freshen up for the babes, then hang around until 22h30 (apparently the party only really kicks in at this time) and then klap the dance floor till the wee hours of the morning. In the meantime the rest of us head off to Gabi’s tent to watch DVDs of speed sailing and comedy hour (courtesy of Brother Louis). But where’s Philip and Roberto ? – 2 hours is an awful long time for a shower – consensus was that they must’ve already left for the disco. I get back to the tent at about 22h30 to the sound of a beeping alarm clock in Philip’s tent. What’s this then ? Sounds of awakening in Phillip and Roberto’s tent. They’ve been sleeping all this time, saving themselves for the big event ! Time for a shower boys - 20 minutes later they’re back smelling all clean and deodorized only to hit the sack again. The theory doing the rounds the next morning was that Phillip and Roberto decided to have a slumber and foam party instead of the disco party across the road.

The DVDs we were watching were of some speed trials at the St. Marie de la Mer channels – awesome stuff, super-narrow boards and fully contorted sails. There was also some PWA wave competition action, with “da machine” (aka Dunky) leading the way. It’s always very humbling to watch the pros in action and one is left with a sense of hopelessness. We drowned our sorrows in Port and Whisky (that Bells stuff is really quite crap – gimme Jack any day).

Sunday :

Woke up to early morning entertainment in the form of Paul and Gabi monkeying around with ……some monkeys who had invaded their hot cross bun stash. Dunno if they’ll ever get them crap stains out of the tents……

This was followed by the discovery of some terrible looking double spotted acid spewing bug with 11 ½ legs stalking our shoes in the grass. Spillo thought he had a chance but the first burst of acid spray did the trick. Respect !

As the hot cross buns had been consumed by others, it was time to klap greasy breakfast no. 3. This was followed by general milling around and waiting for wind. Toilet occupation is at an all-time high with Gabi contributing to at least 50% of occupancy.

Wind arrives at about 13h00 in the form of a NE at about 10 to 15 knots – gusty and full of holes – just like home! Suddenly the bay is filled with large sails and even larger boards which look like barn doors. Us guys on the slalom/freeride gear wait a bit to see what the wind does. Finally we decide to rig. Didn’t make the same rigging mistake I made on Friday. Make sail nice and full with neutral outhaul. Head out to the bay and catch first gust – fully powered and up and planing - yee-hah!! Sail, board and fin all working in unison to provide a good ride – to quote our surfer colleagues, in the zone bru! Some nice swell running through which leads to one or two nice launches off the back of the swell.

Have a break every now and then on the sand bar to catch breath and watch other sailors doing their thing. Pieter broke a foostrap and Louis was seen going past, not on his board, but in a fishing boat ??? And here comes Roberto, hops off board but does not see approaching wave from behind. Phillip and I shout but the warning is not heeded. The wave washes over Roberto’s sail, pushing it down catching his foot between the mast base and the board – ouch ! Bleeding, he staggers up the beach. With little concern for his well being, we instruct him to sail far away from us until he’s stopped pumping shark bait into the water. This was just one in a series of shin/ankle/knee injuries picked up by Roberto during the weekend. For the rest of the weekend, Roberto walked around in that slightly mechanical manner (according to him, like Robocop. According to me, more like John Wayne) due to all the sensitive parts on his feet and legs. Rumour has it he’s been flashing parts of his bruised body to his female colleagues at work and telling them how easy it was to fight off all them crocs and sharks…….

We got about 3 hours worth of sailing before the wind disappeared for the day. Every one was in a slightly more relaxed post-sailing mood as the frustration levels had been reduced ever so slightly. Well, we thought so until Gabi, already having made his name toss with the Indo-Hungarian crap, decides to toss more name away by starting a hose-pipe wrestling match with Kendall. I always suspected that he was in touch with his feminine side, but this was pushing the envelope a little too much…..

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It was time to savour the delights of RB’s restaurant night life. To make Roberto feel at home, we elected to have dinner at Rubino’s, a good South African Italian restaurant. Lots of tired bodies and red faces settled down to a good meal and many carafes of sangria. Gabi, once again, is in supreme verbal flatulence mode. This and the regular group chants of “salute” accompanied by clinking of sangria laden glasses (followed by a couple of wet shirts) made for a noisy evening. We knew it was time to go when the packets of sugar started flying around. With great wariness our waitress bid us farewell with “come again soon”. Yup – and so they did the following evening! On the way back to the yacht club, Roy kept commenting at the top of his voice on how loud the music in the car was. So we bounced our way back to a good night’s sleep.

The last of the Inhaca Island yacht racers had crossed the line that afternoon and went big that evening. At about 2AM I thought that the fisticuffs were about to begin as one particularly coarse (read loud) woman shouted, presumably to her husband, “what does she have that I don’t” , to which some brave sole meekly replied “Ginger hair ??”. Hmmmmm…..but where ?? Ah yes, the voice of Dutch courage.

Monday :

Monday, we wake up to a sense of windiness in the trees. Spillo looks seriously miff after spending the night cooped up in the car out of the rain. Roberto is concerned as Spillo has the sniffles. Adrian looks miff ‘cause his guts are rotten and he spent the whole night conversing with the great white telephone. Now that we had a sailor down (i.e. the sacrificial offering) rumours of big wind began to circulate. Roy phones some woman in Durban who he claims always checks out the weather forecast – she says it’ll blow (however, never trust a non-sailor and someone who phones the weather bureau only to check what to wear for the day !). Lourens has his palmtop out and weather@iafrica.co.za says it’s gonna blow. Clive phones Durbs and advises that it’s definitely gonna blow ‘cause it’s already blowing in Durbs. Righto, time for a quick greasy breakfast before the wind arrives.

As we sit and wait for our greasy breakfast (again !) the wind starts picking up from a SW direction, gusting to 20 knots, accompanied by ominous clouds rolling in. Yee-hah – now if only our food would arrive. Much agitation and walking up and down measuring gusts. Finally grub arrives and is wolfed down.

Other blokes are already sailing in the speed strip – because the tide is so low, the wind is not that strong in the strip and 8sq.m sails are the order of the day. Julian meanwhile disappears and is last seen as a speck in the distance schlepping his kit over the sand bar to the open water. Phillip is desperately trying to tack up wind through the channel (50 tacks later he makes it!). In the meantime, the wind “settles” into an unsteady 5 to 15 knots.

Suddenly, one large gust appears and the rattling sound of a fast approaching board is heard. All eyes turn to the source of the noise. Picture the scene :

• Location - speed strip
• Wind – 20 knot southerly gust from over the sand bar
• Water conditions – flaaaaaaattttt
• Time - 30 seconds before spring low tide
• Intrepid board rider – Gabi the invincible
• Board speed – quite fast considering the 20 knot gust and 8.5 sq.m sail.
• Action – intrepid sailor approaches and makes a hero pass a mere 10 meters from the water’s edge and in front of spectators.
• Phenomenon – the sudden deceleration syndrome as 50cm fin hits sand.
• Results - Time for board to stop – 1 nanosecond, distance to stop – 1 inch, acceleration of sailor going over handlebars – 5 g’s, noise – crack, splash, roars of laughter and cat calls from spectators.
• Manoeuvre – best described as a mix of a flat water forward, push loop and spock. Dude !
• Consequence – one cracked JP nose and a big lesson in why sailing fast in shallow waters is not a cool thing (remember the submerged fence at Bronkies, Gabi !)
• Most amazing thing – no broken fin box.

By now the rain has arrived and is driving down at an angle. Julian claims that sailing with one eye closed gives a whole new perspective to the sport and is quite surreal, bru, like, hey, just cruising, no fears ek se. I get p’d off with the conditions – every time a rain squall arrives, the wind disappears. Anyway, it was time to leave as someone had to crank up the wheels of industry again while this lot of reprobates goofed off for another day. Another classic example of the sacrificial sailor - apparently the lads had a good sailing session for the rest of the day after I left.

I decided to go back on the N2 via Pongola. Crap decision. It was nice to see our national flower in bloom all alongside the road (especially in the towns). Instead of dodging taxis, I had to dodge hairy-backed Vaalies in overpowered 4x4s towing motor boats.

Got home, 7 hours later, tired, need a long weekend to recuperate.

Things to be done differently next time around :

• More wind please (but less from Gabi)
• Don’t drive over the easter weekend – it just ain’t worth it
• According to Julian, the “Pork & Cheese” restaurant is better than the Italian one – funny that the rest of us didn’t crack the nod
• Paul not to repeat his Paris Hilton impersonation
• Paul not to bath in the swimming pool again – please !
• Gabi to bring more booms
• Go to Langebaan instead – see y’all in November !!!!!!

Things that never cease to amaze me about sailors (this bunch anyway) :

• How much time is spent discussing and forecasting the conditions, against all hope
• How grown men still seem to enjoy that age old game of finger pulling and stereo farting
• How much money we’re prepared to spend on kit
• How we can squeeze 4 fully grown men and one dog on the back seat of a car without being embarrassed
• How many situations you find yourself in every day when uttering the words “testa di cazzo”  at someone else seems appropriate
• How repetitive we can be – ice!ice!ice!

SALUTEEE !!!