“A short sail,” we said. “Plenty of breeze,” we said. “Loads of daylight!”

With the weekend winds lately not being that welcoming, last Thursday’s summer evening looked too good to miss. Warm sunshine, a gentle breeze, and a favorable tide it seemed the perfect combination for a quick outing. Nothing too ambitious, just a short jaunt out and back.

So, with enthusiasm high and sails filled, a few of the Sunday Dinghy Fleet headed out to enjoy the evening. We glided serenely up the Roach, passing yachts scattered along the water. Some were watching seals, others simply basking in the sunset. One crew looked set to enjoy a romantic and peaceful drink until a ramble of dinghy sailors ruined the occasion.

Anyway, everyone seemed to be enjoying a laid back evening, soaking up the sun and scenery. We had the breeze, the tide, and not much of a plan beyond “if the wind dies, come back with the tide and be back in time for a beer.”

Naturally, we were having far too good a time, and the breeze slowly began to fade along with our grip on the definition of “short.” As the sun dipped low and the tide began to turn, we initiated what could loosely be described as a “calculated” return.

We crept our way back desperately willing the wind to hold. The RNLI passed by on a training exercise and did our best to look calm, collected, and not at all like we were starting to question the evenings choices. Calling for help? Absolutely not. We’d have slept on the mudbank first.

Fortunately, with the tide just beginning to turn and one final puff of wind, we scraped around Branklet and made it back to the club pontoons, just in time to hear the town bell chime 10.  So, apart from the disappointment of missing a post sail beer, we made it back safely.

Lesson learned: next time, rethink definition of “short” sail and maybe invest in some nav lights for the Laser.