Hangover and Indian

Ouch, should never have had that brandy. Got up at 9am to teach down at the sailing club but got there and it was cold, misty, and my head was killing me. Called it a day very early and headed home, wanting tea, my bed and a good book.

However we are playing hosts tonight, as a friend is staying over and it’s as good excuse as any for a cooking session. I’ve never tried much Indian cooking but since our guest is a vegetarian it was a logical choice and a good excuse to learn. We did some recipes and settled on mulligatawny for the soup course, a lentil and spinach main course and curried chicken for the carnivores among us. M’s ex was also over – it might seem odd but we’ve become fast friends and he comes out with some genius conversation points.

Delia Smith’s mulligatawny recipe was examined and rejected for being too bland, but some on and offline research was done and we found something that was acceptable. A quick trip to the local market turned up everything apart from curry leaves, but we dispensed with those and the dishes still came out well. All in all it was a success, but we’re going to be eating leftovers for some time to come.

Birthday

No, not mine. M celebrated another click on the age clock with good grace, and I suspect appreciated the card, but the day was full. As I’ve already mentioned she’s keen on sailing so at 9am we were off to the club – her for a lesson and me to see what I could do with busted ribs. Even raising my elbow above the shoulder is painful at the moment, so hauling sheets is out of the question.

As it turned out she got not one but two lessons in, and I filled in the time doing a shore class for the newbies. This involved explaining how a boat worked, the points of sailing and some tips and tricks for getting on in the club. One bonus was that all the students were keen and eager to learn, and I raised some smiles explaining how things worked. After the lesson I dealt with some individual questions, gave a little (hopefully good) advice and then found the day leader and offered to do dogsbody work.

As it turns out the commodore (or Her Grand Fluffiness as she prefers to be called) needed a hand marking up and sorting some new foul weather gear so we spent a happy couple of hours deciding what to keep and what to chuck. A huge shout out to West Marine (the go-to place for Bay sailing supplies) for giving us a massive discount on foul weather gear. It’s thanks to policies like that which keep the sailing club going, and it’s why I buy most of my sailing gear from there.

M came back from her second sailing lesson with a huge grin on her face and a walk that suggested some serious hiking out and high speed sailing. The wind had picked up and she and her instructor had been scudding over the waves. It’s a joy to see someone when they’ve had the sailing rush and it’s really kicked in.

After the lessons we headed home for brunch (scrambled eggs and smoked salmon) and cava mimosas - although as designated driver I stopped after one. Then we headed into the city for dinner with a good friend and then home for an earlyish night in, we are getting on after all :)

Back on the water

We’d planned to do a Saturday session down at the sailing club but post-holiday lag had set in and M was still looking peaky.

Instead we headed down today. It’s an Open Day, which means anyone can come along and ride for free on either a 25 foot keelboat or a dinghy, if they don’t mind getting wet. We popped along for the last hour to help fetch and carry, although M managed to score a one on one lesson to get her back into the swing of things.

Then we helped crew one of the keelboats back to the marina. It was a nice 45 minute trip back to dock, and we had a few extra people on board as ballast. Lovely to get back on the water again and taste the salt. The keelboats can handle the wind just fine and move like an oversized dinghy. We stowed everything away and wandered back for a quick socialise and then an early night. Thank goodness for Labour Day.

Dumb idea no.2,216

Some things don’t change - the morning after a leaving day still comes with a hangover.

In a fit of optimism I’d signed up as lesson coordinator for Saturday sailing lessons at the club. This means getting down there at 9:15am and I woke with a thick head, threw on some clothes and pedaled down at a speed only made possible by the fact that no-one else was foolish enough to be awake and on the road.

A few students were waiting, looking impossibly chipper, and we got the boats in the water and sent the first set out. In the meantime I guzzled water, showed people around and helped with docking and unloading. It’s a stressful morning, with a lot of fun thrown in. One senior skipper showed up and gave live capsize practice from the dock for about ten students while they waited, and I sneaked in a lesson at the end of the session.

There’s always a surfeit of students at first. All the skippers are volunteers and it takes a lot to get out of bed at an ungodly hour and teach for free. We got enough to get things moving and then more showed up and the day finished with no-one having missed a lesson – just the way we like it. I even felt human enough to partake of the end of lesson BBQ.