Introducing a New Category - the good old days
I’m getting a bit like my grandfather. I’ve been around long enough now to notice that some things have changed. I want to talk about the differences between then and now, and perhaps comment on where things seem to be going.
Note that I call them the good old days, not the better old days. I’m reminiscing mostly about challenge and excitement, and I don’t think there is any lack of that in today’s world - it’s just that the rules have changed, which stops life from getting boring.
There’s a lot of talk nowadays about over-protective attitudes, coming either from government or (influenced by the culture change) from parents. They certainly exist, but they won’t achieve what the protectors intend. Human beings always make risk judgements and act accordingly. There are well-documented examples of what can happen when you remove an obvious hazard in a road system - because it no longer looks dangerous, people drive faster and concentrate less. Sometimes, the situation gets worse than it was before.
Let’s forget the kind of nonsense that stopped kids from playing conkers and insists that anyone who takes other people’s children for a walk along a beach must have a life-saver certificate, and look at something more serious: clothing for sailing in cold weather in cold seas.
More than 30 years ago, Navy scientists established that no-one drowns in the English Channel. Wearing ordinary clothing, you die of hypothermia in about 30 minutes - even on a warm summer’s day.
I have no trouble believing that. I spent one such summer evening with several friends, searching Chilling beach for signs of a friend in his very early 20s, a strong swimmer, who had fallen out of a sailing dinghy a few hundred yards offshore while taking a novice for a sail. His body washed ashore the next day. He was wearing shorts, a shirt and a buoyancy aid, which was normal practice at the time (late 1950s).
During that period, I was one of several undergrad friends who competed for the fastest round trip from the Hamble River Sailing Club hard to Osborne Bay on the Isle of Wight, picking up a pebble to prove you’d been there, and back. We did it in a 12 foot Firefly dinghy, two up with no other boat around. I think a couple of other university club members knew what we were doing, but no-one waited around to see if we returned safely.
To stand a chance of beating the record, you needed a stiff westerly breeze (making it a planing reach both ways) and a tide stream that would help you in both directions. That made October or even November a good time to try. My best effort was made with John Turpin, a lad of Cornish fisherman stock (his brother wore a gold earring), just as penniless as most of us were. We wore oilskins and buoyancy aids, and did what we could to keep warm. Two thick wool jerseys and a university scarf soaked up a lot of the inevitable streams of cold water that poured down our necks. John’s secret weapon was several copies of the Radio Times stuffed inside his jersey.
Only a few years later, I had my first taste of the Burnham Icicle - a dinghy race held on New Year’s day on the Crouch in Essex. That year was windy as well as cold, and only one boat finished the course - the Jardine twins sailing a Flying Dutchman and wearing wetsuits. The only other boat which looked as if it would survive decided to retire, and the crew were helped back to the warm clubhouse while others pulled their boat up for them. From then on, Icicle rules required contestants to wear wetsuits.
Later, wetsuits became normal wear for dinghy sailing even in summer, and quite right, too. I enjoyed sailing as it was then, but the arrival of modern sailing gear has been a good thing.
