By Robert Brayshaw
Friday 4th May saw the Brayshaws once
again packing, for a trip from Otley to Ullswater Yacht Club on the eastern
shore of Ullswater. This year the team consisted of my wife, Catherine, and
twins Edward and Georgie. William, who had been last year, has now decided it’s
not cool to be with mum and dad.
Arriving at the Club we quickly found a spot to pitch the big top, juggling
acts, clowns and all! I really must get a more reasonably sized tent. It sleeps
16 and so the four of us have plenty of room.
The usual very warm welcome waited for us in the clubhouse with lashings of free beer and as much food as we could eat, all free gratis! OK I made that bit up but Bill the boss helped out with bits of forgotten tackle then did serve beer at a very reasonable cost. After that, a quick stagger around the camp site revealed two other association members’ boats: HeNe, owned and polished by the Ryde-Wellers, Bruce and Angela, was gleaming in the evening sun, as was Alan and Jan’s boat.
Saturday
Saturday morning announced its arrival with bright sun, and not only the local dawn chorus but they obviously had all their mates over for a party and it was in full swing. I swear that every bird, sheep and elephant had made its way to just outside my tent to wake me up.
By the time we had eaten and gone down to the boat, Jan and Alan and Bruce and Angela had been joined by Dick and Meryl with their boat and all were starting to rig. After warm welcomes, we rigged our 16 ready for an off at about 10 or 11-ish. Just as we had given up the ghost John Leigh arrived in his Volvo towing his 16. John being without crew joined Jan and Alan in their 16 for the first day's sailing.
The wind was very light if non-existent at times leaving us becalmed periodically. A slow sail down Ullswater in the direction of Glenridding was on the cards as each boat tacked back and forth across the lake heading south. The wind gradually grew to a Force 1 - 2 making progress slow, but warm in the lovely sun. The scenery around Ullswater never fails to impress me. It is absolutely stunning with the colours of the hills and huge variety of trees.
Lunch was convened on a small sandy beach at Sandwick. The sun was out and it was beautifully warm. The beach was reasonably busy, with a large family group celebrating a birthday having a top time. Eddy got out our BBQ and burgers and sausages cooked well, filling a growing gap in my rather empty insides. Come on team, next year I expect to see at least one other Bar B. Cold sandwiches are boring!
After lunch we set sail with a target of Glenridding. The wind by this time had picked up to a good 3 - 4 pushing the sailing from a gentle cruise into great sail, with spray over the front of the boat and a good turn of speed. John, Alan and Jan set off a little after us and decided to turn back at Norfolk Island, the three remaining boats pushing on quite rapidly to Glenridding.
Once moored up against the gravel beach next to the steamer pier we went to the café for tea and Tiffin. Angela, bless, stayed with HeNe to keep her off the beach. After a short spell Bruce and Angela pushed off heading on a run back towards the Yacht Club. The journey back up Ullswater was great. We had a good Force 4 all the way and managed a run the entire length of the lake without so much as one tack or gybe. How good is that? The wind was almost steady all the way and the sun helped by making the lake look warm and beautiful.
Both boats made it back in a scorching 48 minutes!
John I noticed had like last year pitched his tent on a 1 in 4 slope. I'm now convinced he is part mountain goat. Not knowing John that well I had not asked why he does this. I need to know. There must some secret and I'm sure it’s some Ray Mears-type reason such as to prevent hyenas entering or to dissuade tsetse flies laying eggs.
Dinner in the club house consisted of huge fresh steaks with potatoes beautifully fried and served with roasted vegetables, followed by a selection of puddings including one of the best rhubarb crumbles I’ve had (but not as good as yours, dear! X ) and all for £6.50.
Bob: John, why do you pitch your tent on
the steepest part of the campsite?
John: Bob, I'm glad you ask. I feel you may benefit from my wisdom. Having
pitched your tent on the flat, if we have a particularly high tide tonight
you'll be sorry. (John, finishing his beer, looked happy, drunk and a little
smug.)
Bob: Something I have been curious to know is how you stay asleep without
sliding to the bottom in a heap?
John: Well it's simple ... I hammer a tent peg through my vest and just hang!
The evening was great with excellent food,
good wine and lovely beer.
Saturday night as forecast turned a bit wild with the tent being tested in the
strong winds and heavy rain. None of us got much sleep in Chateaux Brayshaw.
Sunday
The next morning it was an easy decision to dismiss any silly ideas of sailing in the very strong and gusty wind. Most decided to independently walk from Glenridding to Howtown or vice versa. We drove to Howtown, passing the steamer pier and made our way up the very narrow and incredibly steep switchback road to park at the top near to Martindale Church. What a beautiful little church this is, well worth a short visit, as is the much older Old Martindale Church a bit further on. Just follow the signs.
We walked the half mile to the steamer pier, but not before stopping to watch a white Ford Transit campervan make its way towards the bottom of the switchback road we had just driven up. Dick and Meryl had obviously had the same idea as us in a trip down to Glenridding on the steamer. Pulling to the side of the road in one of the many former parking places, you could just feel the indecision in that little van. After a moment, with a rev and a lurch, the two little heads in the distance wobbled back and forth as the van set off slowly to tackle the hill.
"This will be good, let's watch," said Eddy with a smirk.
So being charitable we all settled down on the grass to offer support or take the mick, whichever seemed most appropriate. Although forward motion was being made it was clear this was not a confident little van. If this had been the Enterprise Capt Kirk would have been shouting "Give me more power Mr Scott!"
It was inevitable. They stopped with a bit of a cough and a wheeze. Van and occupants shook like a dog that has just swum. In-depth conversations were taking place inside and after a short while, much to the disappointment of the supporters camped on the hill, it started to roll backwards, under control, before turning and heading off into the distance. Party Poopers!
After a short wait we boarded the ‘Lady of the Lake’ for a half-hour trip at a fair pace down the lake to Glenridding. Absolutely packed down below, there was no chance of any shelter from the biting wind and constant rain so we arrived frozen.
We sat in the café on the pier with Angela and Bruce, warming ourselves, constantly looking out of the windows at sheets of rain. Bruce’s got out his rather posh colour Blackberry to check the BBC weather site to see what the day held. Bright sun apparently. Looking back outside God had obviously got it wrong.
The walk back to Howtown, if not a little damp from time to time, was excellent with lakeside, moors, woodland, piglets and calves.
Dinner again was a masterpiece at £6.50. How do they do it? We had chicken
fillets in something and the usual selection of beautifully cooked veg. There
was a vegetarian option both nights, but I can’t remember what they were.
John entertained us with stories from his mice breeding days and his methods of
keeping the numbers down (grim!).
Monday
Monday opened with a curtain of grey clouds and again gusty strong winds. The lake looked a bit unfriendly, so a collective vote agreed: let’s stay warm and dry. Cooked full breakfast in the clubhouse followed by packing up, goodbyes and a promise to meet at Windermere in three weeks' time.
The weekend had been another success, only one day's sailing but lovely walking and great company. It had all been too much for me and, handing over the reins to Catherine for her first ever tow of a trailer, I supervised by snoring.
