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What separates discomfort from pain? A sheet slipping round the winch so you need the handle to grind it in: discomfort. Coming off altogether: a nuisance. Coming off every ten minutes: pain. My 10mm sheets barely hold in the cleats. The cleats are plastic, probably worn smooth and spread slightly with age. Replacing them is a whole project I’d rather avoid. Thirty metres of new 12mm sheet would cost €150–200, hardly cheap.
I decided to buy Barton Wincher self-tailing attachments for €90. The quest began with ‘Will they fit?’ I learnt that my winches were Australian, their drums 7.4cm wide, and their manufacturer long gone. But an old Barton brochure PDF said ‘Size M fits Barlow 22’ — photo one.
14 June 2024. Following the instructions, I poured boiling water over them to soften the rubber. Then passed a strap through the centre, looped it round the winch and pulled. Every last breath left me. I couldn’t decide which worried me more: tearing them or never getting them on. I had to hang my full weight on the strap, bracing against the side. Millimetre by millimetre, the attachment slid over the drum. I doubt it’ll come off without cutting it in half.
They work brilliantly, gripping the rope like a vice. Almost like a big yacht’s winches. A completely different experience. Recommended.
While soaking the rubber, then puffing through the fitting, I watched a lovely scene: an Optimist tacking around the marina, a little sailing boat like a washing-up bowl with a bedsheet. A father lay aft, with his young daughter nearer the bow, learning to sail downwind. A parent sharing his passion with his child. It made me smile. I only photographed them as they pulled the boat ashore.
#maintenance
I decided to buy Barton Wincher self-tailing attachments for €90. The quest began with ‘Will they fit?’ I learnt that my winches were Australian, their drums 7.4cm wide, and their manufacturer long gone. But an old Barton brochure PDF said ‘Size M fits Barlow 22’ — photo one.
14 June 2024. Following the instructions, I poured boiling water over them to soften the rubber. Then passed a strap through the centre, looped it round the winch and pulled. Every last breath left me. I couldn’t decide which worried me more: tearing them or never getting them on. I had to hang my full weight on the strap, bracing against the side. Millimetre by millimetre, the attachment slid over the drum. I doubt it’ll come off without cutting it in half.
They work brilliantly, gripping the rope like a vice. Almost like a big yacht’s winches. A completely different experience. Recommended.
While soaking the rubber, then puffing through the fitting, I watched a lovely scene: an Optimist tacking around the marina, a little sailing boat like a washing-up bowl with a bedsheet. A father lay aft, with his young daughter nearer the bow, learning to sail downwind. A parent sharing his passion with his child. It made me smile. I only photographed them as they pulled the boat ashore.
#maintenance
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