Sailing in the Rain

This past weekend was the long-awaited Regia sailing trip in Wales. Originally, it had been scheduled for June, which is one of the reasons that Katya and I moved out to England in May, but it had to be rescheduled. My last sailing excursion was one of my favourite memories from my first round here in England so I wasn’t going to miss the chance to do it again. It was also the event that peaked Katya’s interest in reenactment. It was strange how similar everything was compared to two years ago. Many of the same people were on this trip, so every time I looked through the lens I had a version of déjà vu, except this time they actually called me ‘Jenn’ and not ‘Canada.’ The timeless Welsh countryside of Brecon Beacon was also just as beautiful as ever.

We were the only ØC people to come along to the training, so Katya and I rented a car, and so started our road trip on the wrong side of the road. Katya drove most of the time, but I had a bit of time behind the wheel in Wales. Roundabouts remain terrifying, but we eventually stopped running into the curb and I only almost killed a goose. It was a long drive and we didn’t want to stop, so I developed a form of drive by tourism, trying to get nice photos out the window and googling the stuff we passed. Unbeknownst to us, the sat nav had an automatic setting to avoid tolls. So, rather than take the giant bridge from England to Wales, we took the very long detour around the estuary, and didn’t realize until it was too late. It added about an hour to the drive but it was a more scenic route, up by Glouchester and then back down to Cardiff.

We had a quick stop in Cardiff where we met up with Sven, a friend from Household (another re-enactment group), who works as a security guard at the Senedd, the Welsh National Assembly. He gave us the quick tour around the place, the meeting rooms, the debating chamber, and the big golden stick of power. We saw the other Cardiff tourist places, the Terracotta Pierhead Building, the docks, and most importantly, the Wales Millennium Centre, which I only know because the Doctor uses the time rift near there as a refuelling station for the TARDIS. We grabbed supper at Spoons before heading up to the campsite.

When we got the campsite we were in for a bit of a surprise. The tent that we had purchased for Detling was broken and had been returned, so we were borrowing Tom’s old one. This tent had been used on their camping trip to Snowden in the beginning of August, over a month ago, which had been very rainy. Now, the proper thing to do with wet tents is to dry them out once you get home, before packing them away.

This was not done.

We realized this when, upon opening the tent bag, a musty scent rose up, like the opening of a centuries-old tomb. Katya’s unimpressed face was amazing. As we it set up, she continued a stream of mutterings under her breath, “oh yeah, I love camping soooo much, doesn’t know to dry his freakin’ tent.” We briefly considered sleeping outside, but we were able to air out the tent a bit while we were at the pub. We left the tent flaps open for the night and made a cozy wool blanket nest to keep warm. The plus side was that we had a lovely view of the night sky, which was speckled with stars, and, mercifully, it didn’t rain.

The Bear, our Viking longboat, showed up the next morning and after the usual hassle of getting it into the water, we all loaded in and started sailing. My sailing skills remain the same as last time. I can hold the appointed rope or move to the appropriate spot when directed but it’s impressive to watch the people who actually know what they’re doing maneuver the ship. The wind was being rather temperamental so we had to adjust for the slightest change to get any speed. We zig-zagged across the lake, we ran a few ‘man overboard drills’ with our water cooler bottle stand-in, named Bob, and Katya got the chance to Skipper for a while, since she actually knew what she was doing.

When we weren’t on the boat, a group of us were fighting on the shore, either in pairs or in miniature circles of honour or dishonour. When you fight the same people repeatedly, you can start to see what tricks you’re susceptible to, so I’m slowly figuring out the areas I need to work on. I also need to stop gritting my teeth since it looks like I’m growling in every photo. Katya and I had a few bouts, we might start using this to figure out who does the dishes, but I’m guessing the other roommates wouldn’t go for that.

The great drone rescue of Llangorse.

I had brought my DJI spark drone to get some sweeping shots of the boat. The first two rounds of this were successful. The last one was not. The drone took off successfully but, for an unknown reason, the control pad almost immediately lost connection. I tried to send it back to land but it was not responding to me. I could do nothing but watch as the drone slowly sank lower and lower towards the water. With admirable skill and coordination, we managed to change course and return the ship to where the drone, low on battery power, was hovering inches above the water’s surface. In a desperate attempt to save it from the drink, I tried to use the boat hook to lift the poor thing to safety. This did not work. It was knocked off balance and in a last ditch and misjudged attempt, I tried to catch it, not taking into account its spinning blades, which sliced up my hand and caused the drone to dive under the hull of the boat. The control pad keeps the last known gps coordinates so we tacked again and went back and forth over the spot with all eyes looking over the sides. I wasn’t optimistic, but beyond hope, Tom spotted it and Greg jumped over the side to retrieve it. I tried to dry it off as much as a could on my tunic, while also trying to not get the blood from my hand all over it. Its little battery light flashed faintly. I had a rather soggy, but alive, drone, which was put on rice as soon as possible and I am amazed to report that, as of writing this, the drone is alive. It can hold a charge and fly, still have to test the camera. Katya was rather disappointed in the drone, loosing signal almost immediately and being unable to return to land. She would’ve been a bit happier if it had died so we could attempt to get a newer, more reliable one. So if this one mysterious goes into water-logged remission I’ll know who to blame.

We had dinner on site, a quick drink at the pub, and then we brought our blankets and pillows out to the boat. We got nice and cozy near the dragon-head prow, watching the stars and chatting as the boat rocked softly. It was so snuggly under the weight of the wool blankets that I fell asleep on the boat, but woke up when people started leaving and the wind picked up.

The next morning, the air was heavy with mist, so Katya and I went down to the boat to do some ‘tart photos’ while everything looked atmospheric. The resulting shots were worth almost missing breakfast.

The weather didn’t improve much. Most people opted out of Viking kit and chose more modern weather-proof options. We stayed in our usual male kit, with additional wool hoods and blankets and managed to stay about as dry as everyone else. Katya made a solid effort to try to teach Tom and I some knots but I’m afraid, during the bow line tutorial, my bunny kept getting lost going around the tree and couldn’t quiet figure out which warren was his so he gave up. The rain wasn’t improving and since Katya and I weren’t able to make stops on the way out, on the way back we planned to stop at Caerphilly Castle, so we left the campsite around noon.

Caerphilly Castle, which has to be pronounced very carefully, because if you say it ‘carefully’ you are mocked, is apparently one of the best castles in Wales. As of yet, I can neither confirm nor deny that, so once I see more Welsh castles, I can report back. The castle was very well defended; sure it has a moat and mostly intact walls, but you also have to walk all the way around to find the entrance. That, plus, the lawns seems to be regularly patrolled by Canadian geese, known for their viciousness, so I’m sure at least a few invading forces were deterred.

Caerphilly is a really cool castle. It has a few too many gimmicks, dragons, mazes, videos, sound effects, statues and so on, but the castle itself is beautiful. There was a small group of re-enactors there as well, putting on a sword demonstration, but they lost us when they advised the audience to not play with swords since it was dangerous. Silly advice. Apparently there’s a local show here every year so we may try to make it out here again next year, and we were already looking for the best sleeping or feasting rooms. There are so many places around there to explore, even is some of them are slightly off limits.

I’m so thankful that this weekend worked out, that we were able to do so much, that my drone is alive, and more than anything, that I have these opportunities and friends to share them with.